#Sanity is stored in the braid | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

codenamed-queenie · 5 years

Text

#BatsInQuarantine

I am going insane. So I poured my restlessness into one long and very detailed post and got super into it. Please enjoy this hot mess.

The Justice League, being the well-meaning virus-proof Super Friends that they are, took one good look at the news, one good look at their non-powered friends Ollie, Bruce, and their families, and collectively decided that these normal humans must be Protected At All Costs.

Now, keep in mind, Bruce is never one to roll over when it comes to being benched.

However, he understands the importance of social distancing. He knows he needs to set a good example for his kids, and keep up appearances as Gotham’s Most Responsible Multi-Billionaire.

So. Quarantine it is.

But how are his kids handling it?

Dick -

100% on board in the beginning. Gotta do the Responsible Thing. Gotta set a Good Example. Besides, guys, this is gonna be Fun. Quality Family Time is always a Must.

He lasted 2 days.

Then he started to get twitchy.

And as everyone knows? A Trapped Dick Grayson is a Feral Dick Grayson.

He bounces off the walls.

Literally.

“I have to climb.”

“Dick, no.”

“I have to climb everything.”

Has scaled the manor 16 times already. Has climbed the chandelier. The banister. Bruce. The roof. The Cave. Anything in the house that’s been bolted down and especially anything that hasn’t.

Duke found him clinging to the wall 10 ft off the ground like Spiderman and screamed so loud it shattered glass.

Desperate for news of the outside.

He thrives off of it like a starving man.

Was the one to suggest he and Barbara take a break to Social Distance from each other (”Sorry, babe, kissing spreads germs”) and experienced Instant Regret(TM) approximately 5 minutes after.

The Family has labelled him a Flight Risk Level 1 (Most likely to say f**k it and make a break for the outside world)

Jason -

Accidentally got trapped inside the manor with the others when Bruce called Shutdown. If he had his way, he’d be chilling in his favorite safe-house right now, binging The Witcher with Roy and Artemis, and not worrying about finding a stray brother in his sock drawer.

But he’s nothing if not an opportunist.

The way he sees it, Jason has 3 options:

Self Improvement

Self Isolation (See Duke, Cass, and Damian)

Descension Into Madness (See Dick and Steph)

And, well, he always wanted to try a few things. Now he’s got the free time to do it.

So he settles on baking.

Alfred’s got enough food and raw ingredients stored up to feed an army. (Not because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder in times like these. But because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder all the time. Just try feeding 11+ teenagers sometime.)

Uses recipes he finds off Google.

His first few attempts are, in a word, ‘tragic’.

Alfred slips him a few of his recipe cards, and Jason suddenly starts seeing Results.

Turns out he’s pretty good at this baking thing once he gets the hang of it.

Hope everyone’s okay eating nothing but pie, macaroons, biscuits, and whatever else Jason whips up.

Cause that’s gonna be the only food left by the time he’s done.

Barbara -

Self-quarantined with her dad.

They’ve been binge-watching classic black and white movies together.

It’s a fun time, but she’s started to get a little antsy. Loving her dad and wanting to be around him 24/7 are, understandably, mutually exclusive.

Calls the manor to video-chat every day.

For her sanity just as much as theirs.

Gives everyone little challenges to film on their phones and send in. She makes compilations of everyone’s submissions so they can all watch and laugh together.

Bonus points for Creativity

One comp shows the family trying to drop Mentos into coke bottles.

Dick did a handstand, and dropped his Mento from the second story balcony.

Tim did it wearing the Batman cowl. The soda exploded into his face, and the rest of the video is just Bruce’s Shrieking.

Stephanie tried it, but the bottle tipped. Everyone on camera screamed as the bottle rocketed through the front window.

She spends most of her calls having one-on-one convos with Dick.

They’ve come up with little code phrases so they can be Cheesy even with family members lurking in the background.

She thinks the way he clings to the monitor is cute.

Almost like he’s giving her a hug through the screen.

(It’s easier than letting herself worry about his mental state, at least)

Tim -

Oh this boy.

Freaked out for the first five minutes before he decided ‘hey wait, Bruce is letting me stay in my pajamas all day? Noice.’

Now he’s just vibing.

The rest of his family is Low-Key shielding him.

He Has No Spleen, you see.

Steph: “Someone could cough on him and he could die!”

He just goes about his day, playing Animal Crossing like there’s no tomorrow, tinkering on projects, taking naps, etc. Living his best life.

Meanwhile there’s always someone lurking behind him, keeping watch, keeping him safe.

Dick sneezed within 5 feet of Tim once (the fact that he was on top of the dusty bookshelf Tim was perusing is irrelevant)

Jason still full-body tackled him the second Tim’s back was turned.

No one with any symptoms--

Like, any symptoms. They don’t even have to be Corona-related.

--is allowed within 10 feet of Tim.

Tim has been wandering the manor for weeks, now, without seeing another human being.

(He sees Dick on the ceiling sometimes, but that doesn’t really count)

He’s been trying increasingly drastic pranks and shenanigans to draw someone, anyone, out.

But it doesn’t matter how many times he steals Damian’s sword, or sets fire to Jason’s brownie bites.

Nobody wants to risk it.

Cass -

No one has seen her since quarantine started.

Everyone is approximately 87% sure she’s somewhere in the manor though

Because she does eat the meals Alfred leaves out for her.

Or at least someone does, at any rate.

(Jason and Santa top the running suspects list)

Santa was Steph’s suggestion. For some reason it snowballed.

It’s assumed that Cass misunderstood the meaning of ‘social distancing’ and took it too far.

But no one knows for sure.

She is Tim’s Guardian Angel.

People who so much as clear their throats a little too loudly anywhere near him suddenly wake up on a different floor of the house four hours later.

Duke came closest to spotting her while he was up in the attic.

Either that, or there’s another Creepy Sister everyone forgot to tell him about living up there.

She is silent, and watchful, sticking to the shadows, but she does leave the occasional note out to brighten her siblings’ day.

Things like ‘helo i love u’ and ‘hop u ar ok’ mostly.

She is bound and determined to protect her family from this invisible threat, no matter the cost.

Steph -

Like Dick, she was Super Pumped at first.

(Just kind of showed up at Wayne Manor before quarantine was enacted. The original purpose of her visit is unclear, but regardless, she’s Trapped.)

Also Like Dick, her descent into madness was swift.

She is impossible to pin down.

Not like Cass or Damian, who’ve stayed off the grid, and are therefore Untraceable.

No. She’s impossible to pin down, because she never stops moving.

Switches seamlessly between Zumba on top of the Giant Dinosaur in the Batcave, and furiously knitting Alfred (the Cat) a sweater with a pair of Tim’s used chopsticks.

Braided everyone’s hair while they were asleep.

Even Bruce’s.

She tried to do Tim’s, but somehow blacked out and regained consciousness in the attic.

When she woke up with a scream and a furiously twitching eye, she startled Duke out of his Makeshift Fort he built out of old cardboard boxes and antique furniture. He’s had to resort to finding a new hiding place.

Sometimes, on the rare occasions she does sit still, staring off into the distance, she’ll suddenly start laughing hysterically. This may last between thirty seconds and thirty minutes, depending entirely on how long it’s been since she’s knitted a cat sweater or done cartwheels through every room in the house.

Blew up the greenhouse out back, somehow.

Everyone has agreed not to talk about it.

Some people were built to handle prolonged time inside their homes.

Stephanie Brown is not that way.

Damian -

Damian Wayne Cannot Be Contained.

At least not inside the house.

He took off thirty-six hours into quarantine.

Thanks to the security equipment around the borders of the Wayne Estate, he can’t escape the grounds.

(He’s tried and failed multiple times. Jason and Bruce have a running bet on how many times the perimeter alarms will go off per day.)

(Jason is winning.)

He wanders the grounds with Titus as his only companion.

The two of them run laps, practice drills, and find ways to occupy their time.

No one’s entirely sure what those ways are.

In fact, nobody knows exactly where Damian is at any given time.

Only that he is Out There.

And he’s the best security system Wayne Manor’s ever had.

So far, he’s stopped five groups of civilians scaling the perimeter walls before the lasers and electric nets even have a chance to deploy.

They were trying to break in and steal supplies.

(Even ones they already had in surplus. Like Toilet Paper.)

He’s also stopped Dick from escaping twelve (12) times.

Drags him back by his shirt collar and deposits him on the welcome mat.

Usually with a note for Alfred/Jason, requesting more fruit tarts.

Duke -

Did not leave the attic for two weeks.

Then Steph discovered his hiding spot (read: was dumped there by Cassandra) which forced him to relocate to the basement.

Yes, it turns out Wayne Manor does have a basement.

This was a surprise to Duke, who always thought that the Batcave was Bruce Wayne’s basement.

Alfred keeps him supplied with all the necessities:

i.e. food, magazines, assorted pastries from Jason’s latest batch, usually straight out of the oven.

Duke also snagged the Manor’s Alexa.

She has become a sort of ‘Wilson’ to Duke’s ‘Chuck Noland’.

She is his only comfort. His only ally.

He’s determined to wait out this quarantine, doing his best to avoid the others.

Duke has seen these people under pressure.

He knows exactly what he’s dealing with.

Duke: “Alexa is the only motherf****r in this madhouse I ever respected.”

*offended butler noises from the other room*

Duke: “And also Alfred.”

4K notes · View notes

creativeashproductions · 4 years

Text

If I Stay Part One // Luke Patterson

Summary: A beautiful day Luke visits a record store to relive the times he would buy an album, but he finds more than memories. He meets you and a connection blossoms between you two and then Reggie and Alex as well. All is well until Julie discovers something.

Warning: Swearing, talk of death and car accident!

Words: 2.6k

A/N: This is based off the movie If I Stay and the movie Charlie St. Cloud. Sorry for not posting sooner, my sister in law along with my three nieces were in a car accident. Thankfully the kids are okay but my sister-in-law in currently in hospital due to minor injuries thus far.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

So, Julie’s life changed dramatically in the lost year and few months, firstly her family lost their mother. Secondly, Julie’s love for music faded until the melody and lyrics were haunting memories. Thirdly, after losing her place in the music program, she had to question her sanity. For in her garage lived three teenage ghosts to her disbelief and horror quite frankly; the ghosts grew on her so much she was in a band with them.

In the hours that Julie was attending school, the boys tended to tour the entire city. They enjoyed seeing the changes that had happened for the two and a half decades. Reggie really enjoyed the western-themed stores, even scaring a little girl with a floating cowboy hat that disappeared once on his head. Alex adored learning about the drastic changes within in the LGBTQ+ community, he had plans for when 2021 LA Pride came in June. Luke, of course, would go anywhere that had music such as music stores, record stores, concert venues and even followed a rock legend once.

“Ooh.” A voice spoke in the record store, “This would be the perfect gift.”

Luke turned to see you gazing at the Rock N’ Roll records with a passion in your eyes and an adorable smile that melted his heart. He couldn’t help but walk closer even if he had no clue if you could see him or not.

“Def Leppard? Definitely one of my favourite bands.” Luke spoke anticipating the usual one-sided conversation. His speculation shattered when you turned to face him with big eyes, “You can see me.”

You nodded your head, pushing your hands into your faded blue jeans glancing around the store, hoping the owner didn’t notice. To your relief the man was oblivious, Luke glanced over before stepping closer.

“You’re alive?”

“Mhm.” You spoke, removing a single hand to play with your burgundy jacket that cinched at the waist to give form. It was open to reveal a plain black shirt that left an inch of your midsection free, “I always wondered if ghosts were real. I got my answer.”

“This is so cool! My friend is the only person that can see my friends and me.” The grin was breathtaking on the teenage ghost. There was a connection between the two that was immediate and intense.

“At least you’re not alone.” You supplied turning to pick up the record, turning it around to read the tracklist. In the end, you decided you didn’t feel like buying it, replacing it you started for the front door.

A college-aged person walked in glued to the screen of the phone not replying as you mentioned a thank you before the door closed. Luke rushed to follow your steady pace in black hiking boots.

“Where are you going?” Luke questioned coming to the same stride as the girl that had taken his attention quickly. His interest had grown when he found he could hold a conversation with her.

“It’s a nice day. I thought I would go for a walk.” You replied, stopping to look around the street with curious eyes. Luke yearned for those eyes to look in his again because he swore he saw a galaxy in them, “Would you like to join me?”

Luke’s head was nodding in response with a new pep in his step as you walked down the street filled with all different kind of stores. Luke recognized Family Living Grocery store as the one that the Molina got their groceries, he and the guys had joined Julie on a trip once. It was one of his worst memories as a ghost, surrounded by snacks and food he couldn’t indulge in.

“So, what’s your story, Caspar?” You questioned stopping to look as at a beautiful dollhouse, “My cousin had one. We actually renovated it a while back for her unborn niece.”

“Caspar?” Luke teased, watching the nostalgia faded from your expression as you continued on the walk. His hazel eyes, greener at the moment, glittered at the different banter he had with you than the guys or Julie.

“Well, I don’t know your name!” You exclaimed turning the corner at a parlour with gorgeous stencilled artwork on the glass.

“Luke. My name is Luke. Hey! I know this shop!” Luke beamed, stepping back to take in the storefront. In the twenty-five years since he last saw it, the blue faded into a teal, but the door was still the same as it always was.

“You have a tattoo?” You asked, scanning his arms bare in the cut off shirt he wore. You couldn’t see any ink on his skin. Luke couldn’t help the smirk on his face at the blatant heated gaze.

“No. It was 1994. We just played our biggest gig at the time, and Bobby decided we should get tattoos.” Luke’s mouth twisted at the mention of his former friend, “Of course we were sixteen and Alex just about fainted in the shop. The guy took one look at Reggie and laughed at our fake IDs. Told us to come back in a few years.”

One of the few memories that weren’t tainted by the betrayal that Trevor Wilson had gone on to do a year after the tattoo fiasco. It was more than not being credited or his songs being stolen, but it was also that someone he wholeheartedly trusted turned his back on them. Luke frankly didn’t care how Bobby coped after that fateful night. Still, he changed his name and refused any mention of his previous music experience. That hurt a lot.

“So, you’re a ’90s kid.” You raised an eyebrow coming to a stop on the edge of the street, pressing the button to cross.

“Technically a ’70s kid. We died in ’95 a few hours before a life-changing gig.” The mood turned sombre as Luke thought back on that one night that life decided to raise both middle fingers at his dreams, “Death by a hot dog.”

The snicker fell from your mouth before you do anything about it but sobered up quickly in the view of his painful admittance.

“So, you’re seventeen?” You asked crossing when the crosswalk light flickered on. Your attention focused on crossing while listening to the teenager.

“Forever seventeen but I would eighteen physically, but if I had survived I would be forty-three.” Luke mused shoving his hands into his staple black jeans with the chains and his constant accessory of a blue rabbit’s foot.

“Oh, damn. I’ve seventeen as well.” You replied dodging pedestrians before humming a to a song you had heard recently but where you did was unknown. You didn’t want to bump into anyone.

Luke glanced down at his watch, somehow even in death it worked, noticing that it was around the time rehearsal would commence. The thought barely ended before a flash of light preceded Alex’s presence. You slightly jumped in response.

“Luke! Julie’s wondering where you are. We have rehearsal.” Alex was surprised that Luke wasn’t already at the studio. He was always the first one holding his guitar for the rest of them.

One glance at the girl beside Luke cemented a reason for his tardiness. Alex could see that you were the reason and a pretty reason too. Alex wished he had your jacket with such a beautiful colour, but the music was more important.

“Oh, man!” Luke panicked fearing that being late would cause Julie to leave the band after the whole school dance fiasco.

“So, Luke. I like your name by the way. I’m Y/N.” You greeted holding back from offering you a hand, your theory would have been proven correct. Ghosts can’t touch other people, all the movies portrayed that.

“Nice to meet you! I’ll find you soon!” Luke shouted seconds before Alex poofed them both away with a single hand on his bandmate’s shoulder.

A content smile appeared before you continued on your way, unaware of the lack of acknowledgement from people on the street.

The next few days, Luke would find you either in the record store or just out front during his free time. He hadn’t realized how lonely he was touring the music entertainment spots until he had your company. Soon you were joined by Alex and Reggie every once in a while.

The three were planning outings with their new lifer friend as Julie grabbed her songbook from her room. She was amused when the three wouldn’t shut up.

“What are you planning?” Julie questioned scanning their animated expressions, even taking in the slight change in Alex’s appearance.

Alex had a braided bracelet of the rainbow on his left wrist that definitely hadn’t been there yesterday. He even seemed calmer and less anxious, as well.

“What happened to Alex?” Julie questioned with a small smirk, “Did you bump into Willie?”

Alex shook his head, “No, Luke met this girl at a record store and then Reggie and I met her. She’s cool! There’s this app she showed us, and it had videos of anything you could imagine!”

Julie’s teasing smile faltered at the mention of Luke meeting someone before it returned once more. She pushed the feeling away as this girl had brought peace to the drummer.

“What’s her name?” Julie asked, pushing the songbook away to listen intently to the new piece of the boys’ afterlife. The three burst into stories of the girl.

“She took me to this cool place nearby where people store their horses!” Reggie burst out, clapping his head, “I already have a country song started! This is so a hit single for our future country album!”

Alex only released an exasperated sigh at Reggie’s idea that he voiced every single day since the beginning of the band. Luke was just used to finding sheets of songs from Reggie around the studio and often his songbook too.

“She also brought me a bag of clothing she had in her house that she let me go through. Apparently, her house is the place where cousins take their old clothing.” Alex supplied striking a pose in his new white sweater with a rainbow logo on the front.

Julie grinned at the positivity radiating off the two boys.

“Is she a ghost?”

Luke shook his head, “No. She’s alive.”

A spark of happiness flits itself inside of Julie before it dissipated because Flynn had already gently let the girl down about Luke.

“What’s her name! I’m gonna find her Instagram!” Julie took out her phone waiting as Alex supplied her the name. Her thumbs froze before she could type staring down at the black screen.

The name was familiar.

Laying on a bed on San Pablo Street was a girl with her eyes closed and a serene expression. This bed wasn’t just any bed in a home. Instead, this bed was one no one wished to be in. A bed with machines surrounding and right in the middle of those machines was Y/N.

The very girl that had met Luke, Reggie and Alex were in fact in the ICU of a hospital recovering in a coma.

“Why do you look like that?” Luke demanded as the colour drained from the lead singer of their band.

“Are you sure it was Y/N Y/L/N?” Julie gulped dread filling her veins as each boy nodded their head and the girl slumped, “I go to school with her. The thing is she’s been in a coma for two weeks now.”

You were outside the record store once more as the three ghosts appeared in front of you each looking the worst you had ever seen them.

“Did you lie?” Luke questioned stepping closer to the teenage girl that furrowed her brows in confusion, “You said that you are alive. Why did you lie?”

“Lie?” You asked, taking a step back from the odd energy the boys had. A look of distraught on each face, “What are you talking about?”

“Why are you here every day at this exact time. Never late, never early.” Alex questioned sick to his stomach as your brows came together.

“I- walk…” You trailed off thinking of the last week in deep thought paling as you had no recollection of going home or getting to the store. It was like you blacked out each time.

Actually, the last time you remember not being with the guys or at the store was two weeks ago.

“I don’t re…member.” You whispered, “I haven’t seen my family since…oh my god.”

Luke stepped closer, terrified as he reached out, hoping with his entire being his hand would go through you. It didn’t. Luke’s hand rested on your arm, still wearing that burgundy jacket. Your eyes flickered between his solid hand and the same outfit you wore for weeks now. Why would you be wearing a jacket and hiking boots in Los Angeles?

“My cousin had been saving up for a trip for her eighteenth birthday. She wanted to go skiing, so we split the cost between our families.”

As if a wall broke, you realized with horror that the college boy that hadn’t held the for you like you first thought. He hadn’t seen or heard you because in his world you weren’t there. No one had acknowledged you because they couldn’t see you just like they couldn’t see Luke.

“What else do you remember?” Reggie spoke up next, noticing that Luke was getting more upset. His eyes going so light the green appeared to be blue and glittered with tears and his heart dropping.

“My parents, my cousin and I were driving up the mountain in the rented car. There-“

Two Weeks Ago

Your head leaned again Lou’s head sharing the headphones connected to your phone blasting the carefully curated playlist. Lou had been living with your parents and you the last six months as her parents were travelling for work. It was a dream because she was like a sister already and vice versa; Lou as a surprise baby with her older sister being ten years older.

“We haven’t been to the slopes since we first got married.” Dad said glancing over at your mother in the passenger seat, “Didn’t we conceive-“

“Dad! Gross!” You shouted, wrinkling your nose as he glanced in the rear-view mirror to smile at your antics. Your mother’s laugh was probably one of your most favourite sounds in the world, it was warm like hot chocolate on a cold day.

“Did you see that video of the hologram band?” Lou asked, not paying attention to your family’s antics, “It’s super cool.”

“We still have half of our playlist to go through. You should show me when we get to the cabin.” You replied, “We could put it on the projector with the others.”

The others being your extended family, including the surprise of Lou’s parents. Your mother pointed out the snow on the mountain gaining everyone’s attention. It was beautiful compared to sunny Los Angeles.

Lou’s thumb was just about to click the video of Julie and the Phantoms against your wishes. You felt the fear before the yell, snapping your head up you watched as a pickup truck hit ice swerving into your lane. The screech of tires preceded the crunch of the vehicles hitting each other. Throughout the surrounding area, the echoes of the crash bounced off the mountains scaring birds away. Miraculously Lou’s phone survived the crash and played the electric video of ‘Edge of Great’ by Julie and the Phantoms. A song you would hum under your breath during your walks meeting the guys.

The snow turned red under four of five bodies. You lay nonconscious a stark difference in the burgundy jacket and black shirt you had painstakingly chosen that morning.

If I Stay Part Two (Final)

Tag List (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED!)

@safehavenmuse @siennanoelle01 @whiterose291 @mell-bell @blackhood5sos @ficrecsideblog @ifilwtmfc @deadpoolgirl23 @crappy-unicorn @sunsetcurve-h@elioelioeli0 @lovesanimals @popcrone818 @lolychu @deepsleepnat @tenaciousperfectionunknown @aunicornmademedoit @just-a-writer-here @simp4reggie @parkeret @faithiebrock01 @overlyhypedup @differentsoulrascalsalad @aesthetic-lyss @versaceapa @carleywhittaker @lostgirl219 @itsalexx21 @elllaoo4 @merxxleighann @mediocremunge @fantomlovesjuke4ever @dpaccione

#luke patterson imagines #julie and the phantoms imagines #jatp luke #luke patterson x reader #angst #agentsofsupernaturalmarvel #caitsy and ash productions #julie and the phantoms #luke patterson

620 notes · View notes

hela-avenger · 4 years

Text

To the Stars Who Listen- Part 9b

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 1618

Summary: When Loki desires to never fall in love, he casts a spell to prevent such a thing from happening. Except, well, in the matters of love and magic, you never know the result it may have in the end. Loki x Reader

A/N: I have been waiting so long for this part. Things will no longer be the same after this night. Thanks for the love everyone! (Also, if you’re able to, pls go vote today!)

Tags are open! (Send me an ask/message/response.)

TTSWL Masterlist

You’re relieved to find the halls towards the lab empty. Natasha had forced you into your costume before even considering letting you leave her room. You didn’t have the energy to argue with her and let her slip the dress on. You still had no idea what you were supposed to be and Natasha still refused to tell you.

In the end, it doesn’t matter.

It was Halloween and you had a mask to blend in with the other costumes that would surely be roaming around the party.

“Tony, I hope you’re done,” you call out as you enter the lab. “I’ve given you more than 20 minutes…”

You trail off as you notice the display that lays front in center. You tentatively make your way towards it and are in awe at the glimmer of the gold chains that would wrap around your fingers and wrist.

“Beautiful, right?” Tony asks as he finally appears. He’s already dressed. No costume as always as he wore his usual tux. “Might be my best work.”

“You definitely have a Midas touch,” you praise him. “Could definitely create another billionaire franchise if you make a couple more of these.”

“Not going to happen but it’s nice to know that I have a fall back,” Tony grins as he picks up the modified gauntlets and turns them around for you to see. “Now this is my favorite part.”

The stones that the gauntlet stored are now placed in a unique set of molds.

“The sun and the moon.”

Tony’s smile grows.

“Three things cannot be hidden,” he states as he pulls the ring-bracelet out to place it on you. “The sun, the moon, and the truth.”

They mold perfectly into your hands allowing the stones to settle in the center of your palms.

“Thought it would be fitting for you,” Tony adds. “Especially since you’re playing Lady Justice for the night.”

You look down at the white and grey gown that resembles the graceful flow of Grecian togas.

“Is that who I am? Seriously?” you groan. “I thought I was some Game of Thrones character or something.”

“Nope, you’re Lady Justice. Nat thought it would be funny with the whole truth telling thing you’ve got going,” Tony shrugs with a chuckle. “The silver mask is meant to emphasize the whole ‘justice is blind’ thing.”

You let out another groan.

“I never had the urge to strangle someone so much.”

Tony continues to laugh as you set the mask aside. He uses this lull in the conversation to place the other modified gauntlet on your hand.

“Refrain from turning my party into a bloodbath,” Tony responds. “Just try your new and improved gadgets and let's call it a day.”

You heed his advice and turn away from him. With ease, you shoot two straight beams of energy into the wall scorching it once more.

“That’s great,” Tony mutters at the holes that decorated his wall. “Let’s just add more repairs I’ll have to do.”

Loki had to give it to his brother. He did indeed have a brain and he knew how to use it seeing as Thor was ready with a casket of Asgardian mead for both of them to enjoy at the party. Loki more than gladly accepted the offered glass and did not hesitate to drink it all down in one swallow before asking for a refill.

“Brother, I’m glad you got into the holiday mood and dressed up,” Thor states as he slapped Loki on the back.

Thor took in Loki’s appearance and smiled at the all black suit he was wearing.

“What on earth are you talking about?” Loki scowls.

“You’re dressed in a costume!”

“Costume? I’m not-” Loki’s scowl deepens. “I’m not in costume, you idiot.”

“Oh, really?” Thor asks, confused. “Then why are you dressed like a witch?”

Loki refrains from responding as he inhales his second glass of mead. If he were to survive the rest of the night, Loki would need a couple of more drinks in him.

“Isn’t this great?” Thor exclaims as he motions towards the party that was at full swing. “Almost rivals our own parties, doesn’t it?”

Loki rolls his eyes and continues to drink.

“There’s Wanda and Vision dressed as a… well, I don’t know, but they look quite nice! And there’s Steve too! I don’t understand his attire either. Oh and will you look at that…”

Loki turns towards the direction that Thor is pointing to and everything seems to stop.

You’re walking down the staircase adorned in a gown that closely resembled the ones found in Asgard. Your hair was in an intricate braid decorated with jeweled pins that caught the light making it seem as you were crowned with the night sky.

He’s not the only entranced by your presence. Loki can easily see the amount of attention you’re receiving at the simple moment. You don’t pay it any mind seeing as your focus remained on him.

You smile.

It catches Loki off guard even more so as you ignore some of your new admirers in preference of his company.

It skips his mind that he was avoiding you for a reason and when he realizes it, he’s too late. You have already made your way towards him.

“Thor, Loki,” you greet with a nod before turning to him. “You both came and you dressed up...”

“I’m a prince and Loki’s a witch!” Thor gleefully provides.

“I’m not a witch,” Loki snaps.

“Then what are you?” you ask him.

“I’m dressed as a Midgardian,” Loki answers curtly.

“Right,” you whisper, noting his disinterest in the conversation. “Loki, can we…”

“And what are you dressed as for this occasion?” Thor asks, unknowingly interrupting you. “I could mistake you as a high lady of the Asgardian court. Don’t you agree, Loki?”

Loki chokes on his drink and desires so strongly that he had stabbed his brother like all of his instincts were telling him to. He didn’t wish to respond to his question knowing it would reveal too much of him.

“Yes, she does.”

Your eyes narrow at him.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m what?”

“You lied,” you repeat, stepping closer to him. “Why?”

Loki doesn’t know what drives him to respond or where the words even come from.

“I think you precede some high lady,” he states. “You are regaled like a queen tonight.”

“Oh.”

You look away from him then and try to fight off the smile on your lips.

“Well, this has been entertaining,” Thor chuckles before setting his glass aside. “My Lady, will you do me the honor of giving me your first dance?”

You look at Thor’s extended hand and smile.

“That’s really nice of you, Thor, but I can’t,” you answer as you turn to Loki. “I was hoping to give that spot up to your brother.”

Loki ignores the grin on Thor’s face as he looks at you. There is no malice or mischief at the request. You were genuinely asking him for the first dance.

“He accepts.”

Loki has no choice as Thor shoves him forward to you. You are quick to grab his hand then and pull him towards the dance floor. It is music that he is not accustomed to but you manage to lead him through it.

“I’m sorry to resort to low tactics to get you alone,” you tell him. “I just really need to talk to you.”

Loki attempts to pull away but your hold on him is surprisingly strong.

“I had no intention of making you feel uncomfortable,” you continue. “I’m sorry I crossed a line. You didn’t deserve it. No one does and yet I did it, but please know I did it unknowingly. I had no intention of digging up secrets you were not prepared in sharing. It won’t happen again.”

Loki detects no lies in your apology and yet he hesitates to trust you.

“What you saw…”

“I saw nothing,” you answer and though it is a lie, you hope he understands that your lips are sealed in the matter.

It seems the message was received as Loki nods in response.

“Very well,” he mutters.

It wasn’t the forgiveness you were hoping for but one you would accept anyway.

“Oh, and while I’m apologizing for my drastic actions,” you add with a smile. “I hope you don’t mind this one.”

You pull away from his hold to reveal your hands that are no longer sporting the gauntlets he had given you. Instead, gold chains wrapped around your fingers and wrist like an ornate bracelet. You slowly turn them over and Loki loses the little sanity he had for the night.

“Loki?”

He reels away from you unsure of how to make sense of what he’s seeing at the moment. Cradled on the palm of your hands rested sigils he never expected to see in his lifetime.

“You’re carrying the sun and the moon.”

“I guess... I am, yeah,” you laugh lightly as you look down at them. “They’re definitely an upgrade from the heavy gauntlets and they still work.”

Your words aren’t being registered at the moment as Loki attempts to make sense of the sudden shift that only he is aware of.

“I have to go,” he interrupts you.

“Wait, what?” you ask him. “But the party…”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers as he retreats.

A path opens for him easily at the dark look that encompasses his face. He didn’t get to enjoy the fear he inflicted on the general population like he usually does. Loki was just desperate to get out of there and by sheer luck, you don’t follow him.

In the end, Loki finds himself wishing that you had.

TTSWL Tag: @catsladen @is-it-madness @manyfandoms-marvel @mejusttryintogetby @illogicalfangirl @ariel-snow-tmnt @islinglivesinshire @musicconversedance @missmadwoman @smaranshakthi @adaydreamingdragon @poetic-fiasco @like-a-wildfire @jasminecalia @ha-tep @charbokbok @setsuna-meiou31 @ms-blvck @country-cowgirl-101 @bepo-is-sorry @hufflautia @waitforthehurricanrose @fictionalhoomanofnowhere @sanniegirl1214 @telenari @anonymouscastiel12 @ddaeing

Loki Tag: @unicorniorosacomefrutillas @thesilentbluesparrow @oddly-drawn-muse @josiehosiedaninja @hp-hogwartsexpress @sadwaywardkid @wolf-lover74 @sizzlingbarbarianglitter @sigyn-nightshade @aoirohi @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @just-a-donut-who-reads @day-dreaming-fox @heykathchuu

All Works Tag: @jmb959 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @hellocookiecutter @steve-rogers-personal-hell @buckybarnesyard @not-zari-tak @strangersstranger @thefridgeismybestie @ariel-snow-tmnt @badhollandfluff @what-a-flammable-heart

182 notes · View notes

transgamerthoughts · 4 years

Text

What I Found In The Leaves

Last August, as the lease to my apartment was about to end, the roof began to smolder until the place I lived was full of smoke. When all was settled and done, my apartment had no roof. My room was spared and most of my things were okay—this part of the story being set in late capitalism, I am required to assure you that the things I purchased were okay too—and I decided to leave New York City to return to New England with my family. One of the first things I did when I arrived was look at the sky and imagine I was up there. Falling or sailing or flying. It didn’t really matter. I wanted to touch a cloud, to feel the whipping wind.

I promise… this is leading to something. In the months since, in spite of comfort and proximity to my family… in spite of the arrival of my nephew into this world—a child I would climb a mountain and punch God for if I needed to—and in spite of a happy job… I have spiraled into depression. My solution was work and writing. To throw myself into my job and to, somewhat foolishly, take on the task of novelizing my favorite game: Skies of Arcadia. Because if you’ve read my work long enough, it always comes back to Arcadia. I am proud of that project but it sparked a yearning in me. To truly connect to the world I was writing. It lit a fire. Before we proceed, let me be clear that by depression I don’t mean the woes of pandemic living or some disaffection with the reality of entering my 30s. I mean a deep and painful darkness with all the implications therein. Regardless to say, my efforts to combat it drained me. To the point that I burnt myself out and with some prodding from my boss, took a vacation. Which I am currently on. This is not the first time this series of events has played out. I made a promise to myself when I started vacation: no writing. I am breaking it because I have found, yet again, a moment where I must desperately drain the wonder in my heart and attempt to explain to you that I think there are magical things in the world, and that I believe there is some type of magic in art—in that strange alchemic or shamanistic way—that transfers to us. This will be my second attempt to explain it, and to explain what it has to do with video games. (Forgive the indulgence of this introduction by the way; an editor would surely have cut it all but I need you to understand two things: I am in pain and there's a part of that pain which I think points to something important.) This is a story of ritual and tea. Of how my senses and imagination came together to send me on a journey around a fictional world, in search of heroes who both do and do not exist. As part of my love for Skies of Arcadia, I’ve become something of a paraphernalia collector. I bought an old light novel from ebay, I used my rudimentary Japanese skills to set up a warehouse dropbox so that two fan magazines could be sent there and then subsequently shipped to America, and I have drank tea based off the game. At the time, I wanted to collect the little tins the tea came in; they seemed excellent collector’s items. What I found with my first round of tea was art unto itself; balances of flavor and spice and blends that symbolized characters and connected me to them. These were crafted by a dedicated fan and fellow writer. I don’t have the time to sit and research all the ways in which tea is used in ritual. Because I am tired and older and depressed and writing a blog post that perhaps thirty people will read. Regardless, to my delight I found that the tea-maker had created blends based off the various moons that dot Arcadia’s skies. For those who do not know the game, which I assume is many of you: each nation of the world rests under a magical moon. There are six, with one—a Black Moon—theorized to have gone missing. Here was my opportunity for a journey.

I bought teas based on each moon, and one based on the world itself. I will post a separate collection of all my individual tastings and reviews later. The important thing is this: I had been given an amazing gift. With these teas, I had something of that digital world which was actual. When we play games, we hear them and see them. Perhaps with certain haptics we can feel them. But we do not smell them or taste them or literally consume them. Eight teas, eight chances to smell and taste that wonderful world. To touch the clouds. Quem quaeritis? This is a famous question asked by an angel to the three Marys visiting Christ's tomb: his mother the Virgin Mary, Mary Magdalene, and Mary, who is the sister of Lazarus—the man Christ brought back to life after his death. It means: “whom to do you seek?” I was journeying, one tea cup at a time, around Arcadia. From continent to continent, I tasted their spices and experienced hints of their values, their cultures as expressed through the tea. The question played in my mind: Quem quaeritis? Whom was I seeking? The answer is complicated. First, I was seeking something of myself. The part of me that understood magic and wonder. The part of me that believes in the soul and believes that art, in allowing the complex interaction of creators and characters with players, performs some type of soul-magic. It impresses upon us, real and actual changes. I was seeking that piece of me; that part of me that understood that each cup was a ritual that brought about a communion with a distant world. I was searching for the younger part of me that believed in wonderful things.

I drank the teas in the order our heroes travel the world, and in doing so I was performing a sort of perseveration of their journey. I communed with some place distant and followed in their footsteps. Which answers another half of the question. Whom did I seek? I sought my heroes. I sought the adventurous Vyse and his dogged determinism, I sought the firecracker Aika and her swift rushes to action, and I sought Fina. The woman I wish I could be: feminine, slight, beautiful, kind, brave. Quem quaeritis? All of this sounds like nonsense and when I try to explain the nonsense, I feel a deep embarrassment. To care in the 21th century, particularly in America, is to be weak. To be publicly vulnerable is to make yourself a target. You must be hard and solid as a rock. You cannot believe in magic or else you are doomed. But here I was, chasing myself and my heroes one cup at a time. And I need you to know that it hurt to do that.

I went to the corner store today to buy some energy drinks. When I got back home, my father asked: “did you find what you were looking for?” I told him “That’s a very complicated question.”

Let me explain. Let me do the thing that I feel I cannot do well anymore; let me do some game criticism. In the world of games, the entities we control exist as two things. They are actors; manipulatable bodies, guided by code and controller inputs, that we guide around as we see fit. In this way, players have extraordinary power. In some ways, it is a… fraught power. We can, as Soulja Boy did, leave Braid’s protagonist in a perpetual flux state: jumping and rewinding. Back and forth, forth and back. Eternal puppets for our amusement, avatars for our power fantasies. Sometimes, as in the case of a game like Skyrim, our controllable actors are little more than flesh suits But actors are, more than anything, just… avatars. Video game actors are also characters. Within their worlds, which are fictional, they have motivations and wants and desires and dreams. They want to live and grow and succeed. Cloud Strife wants to defeat Sephiroth and uncover the truth about himself, Joel wants to protect Ellie and survive in a cruel world. Arthur Morgan wants to find a calmer life and redemption for his sins. They are, as characters, people. But since they are also actors, we can deny them their hopes and dreams whenever we want. We can have Cloud while away his days gambling at the Gold Saucer and, if we want, we can force Arthur Morgan to murder to population of an entire town. The core truth of a player's relationship to the character is this: we decide if their dreams are fulfilled. I find that troubling and I will try to explain why. But first let’s be clear: I do not think the character in games are sentient entities. I outlined this relationship of players and characters in a GDC talk a few years ago, using highly rhetorical terms and my reward was the ridicule of countless gamers who questioned my sanity. Some made videos about my presentation. It was hell. To be a woman, perhaps especially a progressively minded trans-woman, in games is to know a very real hell. To this day, I cannot go a week without some type of horrid experience on the internet. Some judgment of my worth, some assumption about my competency, or in the worst cases some proclamation about my right to live. No doubt this is part of why I needed my vacation. But here is why I find the player/character/actor relationship troubling. It is not merely the abstract notion, the thought experiment that elicits fun but meaningless philosophical natter. The reason I find that relationship troubling or at least complicated is because for all of their fiction, the characters in games can give us real things. They can, through some type of power—a deep power found in the act of story-telling itself—impart aspects of themselves on us. For instance, they can teach us lessons which we then carry into the rest of our lives. My father, for reasons I can’t recall, once told me: “the meaning of life is to serve others.” Though he does not know it, that truism has been etched into my soul. It is a “thing” that my father has given me. But my father is not the only person who has etched something into my soul. Vyse, that dashing pirate, has etched many things into my soul. For instance: “impossible is just a word people use to make themselves feel better when they quit.” That is etched on my soul too. Just as much as anything my father has taught. So we come to the heart of it: what does it mean that Vyse can so alter my being and values, and that he can do it with the same strength and “realness” of my father? What does it mean for a character, who is also often an actor that I guide, to give me such a powerful gift? Because let us be clear: values are “real” things. When I tried to explain that I believe that certain things are actually true, for instance that looking at landscapes does mean that we are looking at something real…. I spent an afternoon with former Jeopardy! contestant Arthur Chu and a cohort of Twitteristas attacking my philosophical surety. So, again, fuck the internet… I digress.. Let’s explore: I believe in the realness of things because of the depth of the emotions those things make me feel, and I refuse to believe that life is just endorphins, hormones, and instinct. That music or games or anything else can make us weep for joy is proof-positive to me of the existence of a soul; of an ineffable thing that is “us.” Not necessarily all enduring but certainly extant. And if this thing exists, it can be acted upon. I know this because my father, with his truism, changed my soul. Changed the core of me. I know this because Vyse and the others did so as well.

I’ve written that games criticism is a kindness; that it seeks the good in art and attacks the banal explicitly because art is beautiful. I write today to suggest this: art is magical. It alters us, not metaphorically, but in the ways it can affect our souls. Which brings us back to character and actors. I control Vyse since he is an actor and I am a player; but he is a character with dreams and hopes and personality. And values. Wonderful values which he shared with me. So what does it mean now that I can send actors to their doom? What does it mean that I can control them utterly when I know for a fact that they can affect and change me? I do not have clean answers for this. Perhaps there are none. Perhaps all I have written is silliness, even as I beg you to please understand. Please.

Understand the power of stories, understand it in the way that Tolkein did when he said: “Creative fantasy, because it is mainly trying to do something else … may open your hoard and let all the locked things fly away like cage-birds.” Understand that I am telling you that the locked thing is your heart and soul, and that just as a lover or parent or mentor can open that thing… so can the people we meet in our fictional journeys. Vyse is not just the captain of a ship. He is my captain. That means something. Art is ritual and play is ritual. In creation, we place something of ourselves in another thing. In play, we allow ourselves to be transmuted and changed. This is magic, of a sort. I am left wanting however. I followed the path of my heroes in as literal a way as I could, pulling on new senses to understand the world they live in and touch their skies for a fleeting moment. But I cannot reach them; I am Tantalus in the mire. Ever reaching, ever chasing. For that moment I can be the person that my heroes trusted me to become. Note by musical note, word for written word, tea cup by tea cup, I am chasing my captain. When I went back to my apartment the day after the fire, I looked up at the spot where the roof used to be. All I could see was blue sky and I thought I might fall into it. Perhaps in superficial ways I have shared something with my heroes; I have tasted something they have, even though the tea is not actually from Arcadia. It was merely a conduit to my imagination, to the transformed parts of my souls. Yet, I did not find him and I could not find myself. Which is why it hurts, in spite of how wonderful it was. Quem quaeritis? He is not here. So I will keep sailing after him.

#skies of arcadia #games criticism #tea #dreams

9 notes · View notes

j-mysticalien · 3 years

Note

🔫 the oc content, hand it over /lh

you don’t have to if u don’t want to lol I just saw you said something about ocs and 👀 I am interested

FIRST OF ALL 🥺🥺🥺

SECOND OF ALL OKAY OKAY HERE TAKE IT

(I ended up dumping a lot ... I saw the opportunity and ran with it I didn’t mean to oops)

These guys have been in my head for y e a r s and even though I'll abandon them for months at a time, there are plot points I've forgotten, it’s very very unfinished, and clearly influenced by my freshman year interests, they're some of my favorites to imagine and write like every time I do a picrew chain or something I make them too for myself okay okay-

So. Exposition. For ages the demons and dark things have slipped between the veil and into the world. As evil rises, so do those who stand against it. In some parts of the world The Order was established not to eradicate or wage war against the demons, just to keep everything in their proper dimensions and destroy those who refuse. Members of the Order work in groups with assigned roles, often passed down generations. 1: trained in the physical aspects of fighting creatures, they have the unique and mysterious ability to survive in the other dimension-at least better than the average mortal. 2, “Alchemist”: Usually a witch, human descendant of a magical being, or a particularly skilled mortal even. they provide the magical aid since the other cannot perform magic themselves. (Though Witches tend to form their own communities or work with the demon realm which historically has caused tensions) While fewer and well hidden, this secret society guards the mortal realm to this day...

There’s a small, quiet town in the northeast. Nothing much happens- the power may go out or the weather may turn within seconds and figures may appear and shift into the shadows but it all turns out fine eventually. Nothing to worry about. But those who know a little too much know where to go when things need to be taken care off. Bloom’s Florist and Garden Shop, a sweet little store in the middle of town staffed by the owner’s two teenaged kids. They’ve got a lovely selection of flowers and herbs. If you hear noises from their basement, best to ignore it. If you see the kids sprinting down the street, best to stay out of their way. If they tell you to avoid the woods one night, you listen...

OCS MY BELOVED HERE THEY ARE

Dante Achilles Sindweller. He is type 1. He’s tall, thin but muscular, almost dangerously pale. His hair is blue, eyes blue though they sometimes look red. Riddles with piercings and pale scars. Cocky bastard but well deserved. Friendly and deadly all at once. He’s good at what he does and is always up for a challenge. Low key high key losing his sense of humanity. You see actually being in the demon dimension is draining because of the pure chaos of it but returning to reality is rough too. Because of the hunter’s ability (I’m pretty sure they have this ability bc the og demon hunters secretly fucked a bunch of demons so Hunters have demon blood and cannot “die” in the hell dimension but idfk at this point) they can adapt to the word with a combination of demonic attributes and idealized forms that disappear when he gets back. So um the mental toll is very much a thing that he hides very well...at least at first. He doesn’t actually have to travel too often thought, just during emergencies and later he genuinely visits some chill demon friends there.

Cordelia Emerys Bloom, “Cordie”. 5′2″, dark brown skin, black hair she keeps in two short braids, round rimmed glasses. She’s the alchemist. a few of her far off ancestors were fae. Her own magical battery is low so she’s become skilled in working with. potions and magical plants. She’s the most serious member. of the trio. She knows the job, she has a rhythm, she doesn’t like change. This group had three braincells and 90% of the time she has all of them. She likes her plants, her books, and Dante. She’s a little high strung and stubborn but she’s clever, intelligent, and really warm person once you get past her shields. She grew up way too fast and with all her adult figures gone, Dante slowly slipping (though she denies it to the point where Alice bright it up and they didn’t talk for a week), and this irritation turned fear that Alice’s presence is temporary leaves her with some issues but it’s okay im determined to let her be happy, she just has to let herself accept happiness.

Alice Barnet. A witch. Thick, bright red hair, hazel/ blue eyes. Absolutely stunning. and a fashion icon. She moved to attend to uppity private school right outside of town. She stumbled upon the shop and immediately sensed the great power hidden in there. So she just walked in- because of the dimensional portal not because the girl at the register she saw through the window was so pretty what are you talking about it was witch instinct only- and announced herself and offered her services. She’s a flirt, though a sincere one. She projects a confident, fun vibes even if she doesn't actually feel it. Fake it until you make it I guess. Coffee addict will memorize your birth chart, Starbucks order, and all the little behavioral things. Most of my early drabbles with her involve her sitting on Cordie’s desk sipping her iced coffee while Cordie is like “how tf did you get in here” “good question. Better one: they didn’t have the black tea you like is green okay?” She actually is part of an informal coven but that’s a whole side story with its own cast of characters I haven’t touched in ages

Dynamics dynamics so Cordie and Dante are siblings in all but blood, they’ve been together for almost their entire lives. (Cordie’s parents are almost always away-either on Order business or just vibing idk they’re cool though. Dante’s parents are dead but only Dante himself seems to know that-Something about demon blood and dimension hopping doesn’t let their kind live long) They’re really close. If they met at this point in life they probably would never have been friends and Cordie probably would despise him but as they are they love each other and *know* each other. Technically Dante is older but Cordie is the eldest sister of the relationship.

The two of them have opposite reactions when Alice enters their life. (This entrance is one of the few *full* scenes I actually wrote down) Dante is allured-not by her but by the potential adventure she represents. She states her case and he’s like oh this’ll be interesting. They become best friends almost instantly. Their sass, confidence, and more adventurous sides click harmoniously- much of the time to Cordie’s dismay. To Cordelia, Alice is something unknown, something potentially dangerous. She makes her assumptions (prissy, incompetent, entitled, inexperienced) and tolerated her. Alice has had a crush on her since day 1. She was determined to prove herself to the group and really she’d just like to get her trust and friendship at some point, gushy feelings be damned. They fall in love slowly, they learn to trust and be weak and learn to know each other and be themselves Alice is genuinely interested in all the stuff Cordie knows about the magical world and Cordie gets to try to be a person outside of that world. The recent stuff I’ve actually written down involves a lot of sleepy conversations and whispered confessions and soft touched and hhh

Some of the non-human characters

“Lady”: the ghost that haunts the basement/ Order base. She can’t really speak and isn't always visible, never fully. They don’t know who she was or why she’s there. She helps out when she can though. Might help Dante in the very end.

All of the actual demons are off ideas. Like each deadly sin has it’s own demon (they didn’t realize some humans had grouped them together for some time but they think it’s funny, sometimes they hang out just because of that) The gang doesn't directly meet a lot of them but

Curiosity aka “Apple” aka “Heather” aka “Bee”aka...:The spark that fuels innovation ne the spiral of a downfall. frequently visits human world, team switches between stopping them from blowing up a building to playing Mario kart together. Like he definitely causes trouble and should not keep escaping through the portal but like...he’s fun to got to the mall with. Funky Lil dude who’s there for a good time and some chaos. Changes aliases all the time.

Nostalgia aka “Honey-Lavender”: the kind that leaves the ghost of a smile on your face, the kind that drowns you in the past, the kind that makes you want to go back, or forget. mostly stays in hell. One of the demons Dante visits and is acquainted with. They lay and talk. She can be a downer but he doesn’t mind, he appreciates the company and some days she keeps him tethered to his life and sanity (on the bad says she has the opposite effect, she can’t help it)

OKAY AHAHA THATS ENOUGH OUT OF ME THERE THEY ARE THANKS

#OH BOY UM OKAY #j mysticalien ocs #I’m cringing putting some of this on here but #j mysticalien speaks #Dante Cordie Alice

3 notes · View notes

xxbyimm · 4 years

Text

The knight and the princess - Fíli x reader - Modern AU

Link to my Masterlist.

This was a prompt I originally received from @saviorsong yesterday: next-door neighbor trope with the line ‘That won’t work, Try again’. As I wrote down most of this in bed last night, this piece expanded from a short drabble into a short fic of more or less 1500 words. I don’t know what happened and I don’t regret it. As I try to be less brutal about the level of perfection my work has to achieve to be worthy, I try to NOT edit my oneshots endlessly. So bear with me on that, and I hope y’all enjoy.

The knight and the princess - Fíli x Reader

Summary: Friday night. The reader tries to set up her new surround sound system, but it turns out to be harder than expected. Luckily friday night also means her favorite next-door neighbor comes over. MODERN AU.

Warnings: Fluff, bit of cursing.

Taglist: @soradragon @pistachiozombie @legolaslovely @tomisbaeholland @swoopswishsward @fizzyxcustard @deepestfirefun @ruthoakenshield @mariannetora @thequeenoferebor If you don’t wish to be tagged anymore, please let me know! Or if you’re not on the list and want to be tagged: check out my lists and I’d like to hear which list you want in on!

It shouldn’t be this hard. Literally anyone could do it. At least, that was what the people at the store had told you. And the delivery girl. Even the helpdesk guy had told you the same, though he even had the nerves to inquire ‘if you had read the instruction manual’.

Of course you did! You weren’t stupid, you were an grown-ass woman -damn it- and you could take care of yourself.

‘It’s not hard, ma’am.’ The guy repeated for the zillionth time. ‘Just put the red cable-’ ‘And I told you there is NO RED CABLE!’ you hissed back, exasperated by the fact that this person refused to listen. ‘There has to be.’ He mumbled. ‘Because otherwise you won’t be able to connect the tv with the left box.’ ’Okay, you know what…’ you grumbled. ‘I think this doesn’t get me any further than it already did.’ ‘But have you checked the package the system came in?’ You let out a strangled groan. ‘Of course I checked it!’ ‘You sure?’ the guy pressed. ‘Because more than often, our clients-’

You ended the call, just before you would have battered those poor worker’s ears with the most vile curses in the English vocabulary. It wasn’t his fault, you knew that. He probably had to stick to a protocol anyway and you were too impatient to follow such bureaucratic nonsense. But still, he wasn’t the proud owner of a surround sound system that was nowhere to near to be connected with the rest of your setup.

You heaved a sigh and eyed the chaos around you. There were cables everywhere and the manual lay crumpled on the couch. Six sound boxes were scattered across the room, waiting patiently to be put in their new place. Oh, and you weren’t even talking about all of the packaging it had arrived in! Ugh. You were ready to give up, even if it meant you couldn’t enjoy your favorite movie with some proper sound effects tonight. Whatever that meant anyway. This hadn’t been your idea.

Defeated, you strolled towards the kitchen. The least you could do, was reward yourself with a glass of wine. You opened the fridge and nearly jumped when someone knocked on the kitchen window. When you quickly turned your head to see who was disturbing you, your eyes met the dreamy blue ones of your next-door neighbor, Fíli. He was holding a bottle of wine and winked at you. His golden locks radiated in the sun and for a moment, you once again appreciated how handsome the bastard was. He obviously liked to take care of himself, as his blonde, shoulder length hair was almost more soft than yours and his beard was trimmed into perfection. Normally you weren’t into mustache braids, but the way this guy sported those made your legs weak. Fíli was wearing a simple, blue t-shirt with a V-neck that showed off some of his chest hair. You sincerely hoped that he had not paired it with his favorite jeans, because otherwise you’d spent all night gawking that fine ass.

‘Hey, Y/N!’ Fíli called, his eyes twinkling mischievously. ‘You’re going to let me stand here all night?’ You smiled and moved to the door to let him in. Because of all the hassle, you almost had forgotten it was Friday night. A few months ago, when you were new in this neighborhood, Fíli had swung by to say hello. In hindsight, you had lost your heart that night on your doorstep, though you had denied it for months after. It wasn’t a coincidence that the two of you had developed a habit of spending Friday nights together, since both of you highly enjoyed each other’s company over going out in search of love. In addition, Fíli was one hell of a chef in his spare time.

‘How are you faring, love?’ Fíli inquired while kissing your cheek. ‘How was work?’ ‘Ah. It was fine.’ You replied, closing the fridge and reaching for your fancy wine glasses in the cabinet. ‘My boss was a total pain in the ass, though that’s nothing new.’ Fíli smirked. ‘What’s the old toad up to now?’ A giggle escaped you and you shot him a glance. ‘You know you can’t call her that! What if I say that while at work? She will have my head!’ ‘Ah, but then all you have to do is to call upon your knight to save you.’ He told you while opening the bottle and pouring some wine. ‘I have a knight?’ you wondered. ‘Why hasn’t he informed me yet? I would spare me loads of trouble.’ Fíli shrugged, his eyes flashing briefly over your face. ‘Maybe he’s been a coward and doesn’t know how to show it’s him.’ ‘Selfish bastard.’ You muttered, too engrossed in the red liquid pouring into your glass to notice. ‘Anyway, no matter. I don’t need a knight.’ ‘Not even in shiny armor?’ ‘No.’ You groaned. The last guy you had gone on a date with a few months ago, had those ridiculous old-fashioned standards that you possibly couldn’t and wouldn’t meet. Naturally, the date had been a disaster when you straight up told him you refused to settle for a ‘woman’s place is in the kitchen’ kind of relationship.

Fíli took a sip and leaned against the counter. ‘I don’t get why the women get the knights, and us men have to settle for the princesses.’ ‘You want a knight, eh?’ you grinned, grateful for the fact that your friend hadn’t noticed you mentally had visited the dreadful topic of your dating life. ‘Exactly.’ He nodded vigorously. ‘Someone who can battle dragons, command legions.’ ‘And take over the world?’ you filled in. ‘Bend every civilization to your will?’ Fíli laughed and lazily moved towards the living room. His blue eyes burned through yours and you bit your lip. ‘Those are your words, milady, not mine.’ He purred as he disappeared in the hallway.

You winced when you discovered that he was, in fact, wearing his (and your) favorite pair of jeans. Damn that fine ass!

‘I said I wanted a knight.’ Fíli went on, obliviously to your appreciative glances. ‘A knight, Y/N, not a- Mahal’s hairy balls! What happened here?’

Oh Mahal’s hairy balls indeed. You had forgotten about the ground zero in your living room. You turned the corner. Fíli was eyeing the chaos with an amused smirk. ‘Is that the surround sound system I recommended to you?’ he asked. ‘Yeah.’ You said. ‘But I wasn’t finished just yet. I merely went to the kitchen to get myself some wine.’ ‘Finished with what?!’ Fíli grinned. ‘Wreaking havoc?’ ‘Oh, you ass! I was getting there!’ ‘Yeah?’ Fíli gestured at the pile of cables on the carpet. ‘That won’t work. Try again.’ ‘Hmmm.’ You mused while draining your wine in one go and putting the glass aside. ‘If I do that, I will lose my sanity. The helpdesk guy said it was easy, but I beg to differ.’ ‘You even called the helpdesk?’ Fíli chuckled as he grabbed the manual from the couch. ‘You must have been quite desperate.’ ‘I wanted to do this by myself!’ you said fiercely. ‘And I know I can, it’s just…’ ‘It’s not that complicated, once you know what to do.’ Fíli told you. ‘Shall I walk you through it?’ You narrowed your eyes. ‘Are you going to make fun of me in the process?’ He laughed. ‘Maybe a little. But in the end you’re a bloody amazing person and I’m sure you can do anything, if you set your mind to it.’ ‘Don’t mock me.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m not. You’re the proverbial whole package, and I don’t mean that in a patronizing way.’ You lifted a brow. ‘Then in what way?’ He took a step closer. His wineglass still holding in one hand, he gently stroked your cheek with the other. A fond smile was displayed on his face. ‘In a brilliant, I rather spend my free nights with you than going out, because what I want is right there, way.’ Your cheeks were on fire and you lowered your gaze. Your teeth sunk in your lower lip and slowly turned into a mumbling, flushed mess. ‘What? But I’m-’ ‘Y/N.’ Fíli whispered and a soft thud informed you he put his glass on the floor. You didn’t dare to look up, because you knew this moment would turn out to be a) a dream, or b) a cruel joke. So instead, your gaze was fixed on the carpet.

‘Y/N.’ Two sturdy hands cupped your cheeks and gently tilted your head. A pair of dreamy blue eyes came into view and your heart skipped a beat. ‘You have asked me countless times why I had zero interest in dating.’ Fíli began with a faint smile. ‘Now let me answer that one for you: from the moment we met, I haven’t been interested in any other woman, but you.’ ‘Why didn’t you say so?’ you managed to blurt out. ‘Because you’re quite independent.’ Fíli confessed. ‘And it’s one of the things I like that about you.’ ‘Independent doesn’t mean-’ ‘I know that.’ He told you. ‘But I wanted to make sure that you and I match in all the right ways, rather dragging out our worst qualities like some couples tend to do.’ ‘Oh Fíli… Why would you think that?’ ‘I just...’ He heaved a sigh. ‘Fell in love with the wrong person one time, I suppose. After that you get careful.’ You pulled him against you and placed a gentle kiss on his jaw. ‘Sounds like you’re in need of a knight.’ Fíli chuckled. ‘And a damn brave one, I daresay.’ ‘That settles it. I am forever in your service, good sir.’ You grinned. ‘Do you happen to know a princess with technical proficiency?’ Fíli laughed and you reveled in the sound. ‘Oh, Y/N.’ he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours.

And then he kissed you.

Thank you so much for reading my humble story. Feedback is always welcome. Did you like my work? Spread the love and reblog! :) And here’s my Masterlist.

#fíli #fili #our golden lion #son of durin's folk #fili x reader #fili x you #modern au #the hobbit #fili fanfic #fili fanfiction #the hobbit fanfiction #fluff

63 notes · View notes

ericsonclan · 4 years

Text

Spooky Jitters and Calming Love

Summary: Prisha tries to brave the dangerous of spooky horror games. Through the power of love, cuddles and determination she might just succeed.

Word Count: 1110

Read on AO3:

Prisha gave a small yawn as she walked through the doorway towards the couch. It was her day off, meaning she could do whatever she wanted. Sadly she couldn’t align it with one of Violet’s days off but luckily for her her wife only had work till lunchtime. Meaning that Prisha only had to distract herself for a few hours before she could spend the rest of the day with Violet.

Her eyes wandered around and noticed that Sir Tubbs had already decided that today would be a wonderful day to nap. A decision he made on a regular basis but one that he enjoyed nonetheless. She continued to scan the room and spotted her library book of The Hound of Baskervilles laying on the coffee table. She needed to make sure to return that before Friday and to let Aasim know that she had finished it so they could discuss it.

Her bare feet moved across the floor and she sat down next to her cat. Sir Tubb let out a smokey meow then rolled over lazily, expecting some attention from Prisha. Prisha obliged and began to give Sir Tubbs some pats when an idea popped up in her mind. She could play a game. Louis had gifted Violet his old PS4 a few months back, saying he got a cool collector’s edition version of a PS4 and didn’t really need two.

Prisha and Violet had accepted his gift but didn’t really know what to do with it until one day when Prisha noticed a deal happening on the Playstation store. She never could resist a good deal, especially when a lot of games seemed so intriguing to her. She ended up buying a few horror games which was a bit of a mistake. For what Prisha quickly discovered was that she got easily spooked. Something she was rather embarrassed about at first, but Violet didn’t seem to judge her for it. She would simply laugh and sit beside Prisha and give her the support she needed to get through a particularly spooky part.

Prisha slowly got up and turned on the TV and PS4. The logo appeared on the screen before dark, spooky music took over as she tapped the x button to select Amnesia: The Dark Descent. It was definitely an eerie and scary game but the lore hidden within it and the dark tale had intrigued Prisha. Sitting back down on the couch, she felt her hands begin to sweat and her heart pump at the scary music. Gathering all her willpower, she pressed the continue button and was pulled back into the dark, twisted Brennenberg castle. Pausing the game for a second, Prisha pulled down Violet’s blanket and spread it over her legs. It instantly calmed her down for a moment and she snuggled into it before continuing onward.

She played for ten minutes before putting down the controller and plopping Sir Tubbs in her lap who seemed rather annoyed by being woken up but soon settled down again.“You’ve got this, Prisha,” She played with the tip of her braid then picked up the controller and continued. It soon became obvious that she could only play for small segments of time before having to pause the game and spend some time with her cat. It was a system that worked for a while, that is until she reached the dungeons. As soon as she realized that she was surrounded by enemies, had limited matchsticks and oil and that it would take calm energy to get through this, she paused again. Prisha twiddled her thumbs for a moment, debating what to do next. There were sure to be a lot of letters and lore in this section of the game. Surely it couldn't be that scary. With a determined glint in her eyes she tried once more.

Prisha instantly regretted that choice though as she got chased down by an enemy while her sanity in the game was at its end. “No, no, no, no, no, no! Gahhhh! Get away!” Prisha screamed and tossed the controller as the enemy reached her. She tugged the blanket over her head and pulled SIr Tubbs close to her. Her heartbeat was out of control and she was far too scared to move at all. Sir Tubbs flicked his tail and gave an annoyed meow. “Well, I’m sorry, Sir Tubbs, but you have to stay with me until Violet gets back home.”

After half an hour passed the front door to the apartment opened and Violet walked in with a paper bag in her mouth while balancing more food in her hands. Closing the door, she tossed her keys then dropped the paper bag from her mouth down to her hand.

“I’m home. I hope Italian is okay for lunch. I-” The blonde’s face scrunched up as she moved over and placed the stuff down in the kitchen before looking around to spot her wife. It seemed like Prisha was nowhere to be found until she saw Sir Tubbs appear from a giant blob under the blanket on the couch. The sounds of the game were still playing on the TV screen.

“Prisha?” Violet moved forward and sat down on the couch, muting the TV before lifting up the blanket to see her wife. Violet let out a small laugh. “What the hell are you doing?” she asked as Prisha shifted out of her blanket cocoon.

“Well, you see, I was deciding how to spend time before you got home and I sort of played a scary game and…” Prisha’s hands played with her braid again. “You got spooked again, didn’t you?” The blonde’s question made Prisha’s face fall in shame.

“Yes, but I got really far this time. I learned so much about the castle and what is happening with Daniel but then I got to the dungeons and that's when it all went wrong,” Prisha slowly wrapped herself up more into the banket.

“You wanna cuddle before we have lunch?” Violet’s words made Prisha look up.

“Would that be alright?”

“Sure,” Violet shuffled closer and Prisha held out her arm to wrap her wife in the blanket. Violet wrapped her arms around Prisha and rested her head on her shoulder. Prisha’s arms came around Violet and she settled into her soft warmth. After a few minutes Prisha felt all residual nerves from playing the game melt away. She rested her head on top of Violet's, her heart as ease as she lived in that moment. She would try her best from now on to wait till Violet was home to play any type of horror game.

#twdg #twdg prisha #twdg violet #twdg sir tubbs #twdg privet #fanfic #ericson's diner au

4 notes · View notes

sparklyaxolotlstudent · 5 years

Text

More class shenanigans!

After them outing Lila as Hawk Moth, they decide to try and make lighting strike twice... and realize it was not possible

Mainly because the writer is a hack and realized either the jokes would be the same, so he decided to go a different, and wackier route.

MAYURA IS..

The week continued ordinary after Marinette and Juleka’s presentation. Well, as ordinary as it could be with Hawk Moth akumatizing someone every other day. The class had avoided Lila like the plague the first few days, but eventually settled back to their old routine after realizing how silly they were being for thinking one of their classmates could be Hawk Moth. Marinette had enjoyed it while it lasted.

“So, who’is Mayura?”

The question took Marinette by surprise, who stared a few seconds at Kim, unsure if she had heard right.

“What?” she asked in autopilot, her brain still trying to catch up with the question. She was still writing the homework that Miss Bustier had left for the weekend while some of the others had already left.

“Yeah, I figured that you and Juleka could do a presentation on your theories on Mayura”

Marinette looked surprised for a moment. “That was for school, Kim. And we specifically told you that we weren’t going to do another article”

Kim pouted like a small child. “ Awww, I was really looking forward to it”

Marinette blinked twice in slight confusion. Kim was just that adorable. If he made puppy eyes, she was doomed.

And then he made puppy eyes.

Doom.

Marinette sighed in defeat. She turned around to see who else was still in the classroom with them, until she landed on her next victim. Of course!

“Yo Alya, wanna be Mayura?”

Alya had just finished storing her stuff in her bag, and was as confused as Marinette had been a few seconds ago. And then she saw Kim.

“Huh… Sure? I guess” she said, not very sure. “Just promise you will not make me doubt my own sanity”

“Fine, I promise”

“I don’t” said Juleka casually, while passing in front of her friends.

Alya was about to protest to Marinette, but she was already gone. “I’m blaming you” she said to Kim, who only replied with a smile.

Monday arrived, and only Nathaniel, Kim and Alya knew why Marinette and Juleka were wearing their awesome business suit, Marinette now with her hair in a bun, and Juleka with a side braid that pulled her hair from her face. They arrived before school and started their presentation before class started, much to everyone’s surprise

(The surprise was that Marinette was early)

“Hello, Hello everyone!”

“And welcome back to our news, where you can learn everything about the current events!”

“As you all know, our edition from last week revealed the TRUEST identity of Hawk Moth!”

Lila blushed and covered her face with her hands, clearly embarrassed.

“And now, we have come here today to reveal her very one second in command!”

“Mayura!” they both said at the same time, revealing another drawing of Mayura.

“Once again we would like to thank Nathaniel for his sponsorship”

“Whatever you need for your crazy antics!” replied the tomato boy.

“So, who’s Mayura?” asked Kim from his seat, even though he already knew the answer.

“Mayura, the Peacock Miraculous holder, is none other than… Alya Cesaire!”

“WHAT?” was the general consensus of the class. Except Kim who said a “YAY”, and Alya who facepalmed, already regretting her consenting to this.

“SO! Does everyone remember the first time Hawk Moth attacked?”

“You mean Lila?” asked Kim, clearly too enthralled by the show.

“Yeah, her. Sorry” Lila facepalmed on her seat. Nathaniel slided away a little, this time being careful to not fall on his butt.

“Anyway, does anyone remember what else happened that day… something different from other days?”

“Chloe took your seat by bullying you?”

“She said differently” argued Chloe while filing her nails. “Pay attention Kim. She obviously mean she dared to stand up to me and my evil ways”

“And why I was able to do that?”

“Cesaire. Cesaire was the new girl” said Chloe a bit more surprised than she should, enough to stop filing her nails. She noticed and kept doing them.

“Yep! A new student whose first day happened to be the first time Hawk Moth attacked!”

“Coincidence? Or Hawk Moth’s second in command preparing the ground for a new Akumatization?”

“Wasn’t it actually Kim’s fault for Ivan getting mad? OH, Kim never apologized either. Sorry for getting you into trouble Ivan”

“No problem; that did eventually brought Mylene and me together.”

“So Kim was technically their…”

“Finish that pun and I’ll finish you”

“And wouldn’t it make more sense for Chloe to be Mayura?”

“GUYS! We’re trying to prove Alya is Mayura, regardless of how much other people fit that profile!”

“I mean, honestly guys, I take pride on being Queen Bee…”

“Trying to make a train crash notwithstanding…”

“I TAKE PRIDE in being Queen Bee. Me being Mayura or helping Hawk Moth makes absolute no sense and only a complete moron would think I could do that despite my admittedly spotty redemption”

“Point taken, moving on, Alya also makes sense as Mayura because… huh…”

“… Me appearing at the same time as Hawk Moth first attack was all you got, wasn’t it?”

“I mean, there’s also the fact that Mayura’s main color is blue and the peacock symbol is pretty much an eye, which fits the aesthetics of your boyfriend”

“Wait dude, I’m the one wearing the blue shirt with the creepy eye. Wouldn’t it be more logical for me to be Mayura?”

Marinette blinked twice at Nino statement. She recovered quickly.

“Bold of you to assume we were using logic”

“Touche”

“It would have made more sense” whispered Juleka. Marinette side eyed her.

“Ugh, this was easier with Lila”

“Wait, seriously? Your only proof was that I was new? So, if you’re implicating all the new kids, who’s Adrien? Chat Noir?”

Adrien paled at Alya’s joke and looked terrified at the thought of Marinette and Juleka actually guessing he was Chat Noir.

“Nah, he’s obviously Ladybug”

“WHAT?”

“Well, obviously, he’s a model, so he’s comfortable with his body, we know the transformations involve magic, and the best way to hide his identity would be to chose a form that would be completely different to how he looks normally, ergo, a blond haired tall boy becomes a black haired short girl.”

Everyone looked at Juleka as if she had grown a second head. Even Marinette seemed interested.

“But Adrien has the hots for Ladybug!”

“NINO!”

“Sorry… but you do”

“A more perfect cover! Having a crush on his other identity would prevent people to make the connection!”

“He does always disappear when there are akuma attacks.”

“I know someone else who also disappears when an akuma ppears” said Juleka, eyeing Marinette, who gulped nervously. “If Adrien is Ladybug, it’s obvious that Nathaniel is Chat Noir”

“WHAT?”

Now it was Lila’s turn to side eye Nathaniel and slide a little away from him. She also landed on her butt.

“He does have the same kind of crush that Chat Noir has on Ladybug”

“Does that mean that Nathaniel and Adrien are destined to be together?”

“WHAT?”

“You cheater! What about Marc?”

“I mean, Marc makes more sense as Ladybug”

“OH, SO I can’t be Ladybug now?”

The bell rang and the class pretty much ignored it. Miss Bustier walked on her class having a very polite and wild discussion. She was going to say something, but something about Adrien and Nathaniel going on a date made her do a double take. She decided to step out of the class and give her students five more minutes.

#miraculous ladybug #ml fic #ml au #Hawk Moth is #Wackynette

149 notes · View notes

thehopefuldandelion · 5 years

Text

Not Him

part 3

part 1 and 2 and 3 on ao3. part 1 and 2 and 3 on ff.net.

thanks to all who have supported me on this journey!

*sends kisses and hugs*

also I'm sorry this has taken me weeks. life has been hectic.

***

Peeta

My god. Holy frickin cow. Katniss kissed me. Well, my cheek but still! The burning sensation from her soft kiss is still present. She may have run from me but at least I have a chance with her, the most beautiful goddess there is. I sound like a fuckin’ love sick teenager.

That fateful day that the stars aligned and she interviewed, I knew the universe was sending me a message. I’ve known Katniss since forever. Those putrid yellow swings’ memory still burns a hole in the back of my mind. The little girl with the red checkered dress and two braids moving with the wind, she was absolutely breathtaking, and, well, she still is. I may have been 5, but hey, the heart wants what it wants.

Graduation, class of 2009. It was sunset, the most vivid sunset I think I’ve ever seen. The sky was painted with indigo, orange, and rose colored pink. Katniss Everdeen, the star of my wet dreams, became more than I ever thought a person could. She not only stole my heart but gained a new title, the girl on fire. The subtle reds and vibrant oranges mixed behind her while she gave her eloquent valedictorian speech. My heart only had room for her and I could barely breath she was just that alluringly, gorgeous. I thought of her as my Katniss even though every interaction with her ended with insults. She loathed me and I wasn't sure why. I’m still confused as to what changed.

I watch her long, wavy raven hair flutter behind her as she runs to her car. I bring my fingers up to touch my cheek, savoring the memory of her soft lips.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

***

Katniss

As I drive home, I begin to question my barely there sanity. I-why did I kiss him? Not only is he my boss but I hated him. No, hate not hated. What’s wrong with me? I feel as if everything in my life is changing so fast I can’t see the path in front of me like a car on a foggy morning. My lungs fill with air that can’t seem to release and before I know it, I’m hyperventilating. Blindly, I shove the key in my apartment door, unlock, lock, and sink to my knees with my back against the door.

I can’t explain these rampant feelings that are blindsiding me. Do I actually like Peeta Mellark? He does cause butterflies to erupt in my stomach and warmth to flow throughout my body when he walks in a room. Our past 2 “dates” awakened my soul more than it has been in years. He was flustered and shy after I kissed his cheek. What could that mean. Does he like me? Wait, he hated it didn't he. God, I’m such a dickhead and I don’t even have one.

As the days pass into weeks and weeks into months, I do my best to avoid Peeta at all costs. He seems to be doing the same which is fine with me. I still have erotic thoughts and memories of that fateful night at the movies but as times moves on, it pushes to the back of my mind. He and I aren’t a thing. Right?

It was Christmas time in Panem. Rosy cheeks and runny noses with melodious laughter fill every coffee shop, street, and home in this little town. Snow banks pile up on the edges of roads. I decided to come home for my Christmas vacation, not that there is really a home to come back for. While the neighbors would hang boughs of holly and red ribboned wreaths with colorful lights, my house was bland. It wasn’t always like this. When my father was alive, there never was a dreary day. Of course that all changed when he passed and my mom became a recluse. She moved away shortly after, but I couldn’t bring myself to sell the house. Memories of sweet hot cocoa and Eskimo kisses flood into my mind. A slice of my heart died with my father.

Shaking those troubled thoughts away, I climb the steps of the rickety wood porch and open the front door. Because I never visit, it has fallen apart, literally. Oh, father I’m so sorry. Roughly all the window panes are broken and rat droppings are scattered around. The kitchen faucet is loose and dust clouds.= every surface. I have my work cut out for me.

I spot some firewood outside and lay it in the hearth, lighting a match and setting the wood ablaze. Warmth. Love. Home. I missed this. The smell of wilderness and smoke waft into nose. I curl up and fall into a deep sleep, rat droppings and all.

Tap. Tap. Tap. I awake to a sharp knock at the door. Peeta? What is he doing here all handsome and muscular. My god, his arms. I want to lick the sweat that glistens on his forehead.

“Peeta? What are you doing here?” I ask confused and slightly drowsy from sleep.

“Katniss,” Peeta says breathlessly. “I-I can’t keep doing this. Why did you stop speaking to me?”

Taken back by his words, I hesitate before saying, “I thought you hated the kiss, I mean, me.”

“Hate you, no, never Katniss. I love you, completely and incandescently,” he says while stepping into the house and brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

He...loves me? Me? How was I so stupid. Without thinking, I gently press my lips against his. He is hesitant at first but adds pressure to my lips, lightly kissing back. He then wraps his arms around my waist, as I bite his lip, sucking it to relieve pain. He tentatively tangles his tongue with mine causing a moan to bubble up in my throat. We break for air, the tension sizzling between us. His baby blue eyes are darker and filled with lust.

I forcefully latch my lips on his and he pushes me against the now closed door. Through our bruising, loving, tender kisses, I feel an underlying urge for more. To initiate this, I jump into his arms with my legs wrapping around his waist. I hear a “Fuck Katniss” and I groan loudly.

‘Do’. Kiss. ‘You’. Kiss. ‘Know’. Kiss. ‘How’. Kiss. ‘Long’. Kiss. ‘I’ve’. Kiss. ‘Wanted this,’ Peeta says shakily. He makes his way to the stairs and I point him in the direction of my bedroom. He grins and gently lowers me to the bed. He gently unbuttons my shirt while I push down his jeans.

“Peeta,” I moan excited for what’s about to happen. I can’t believe-

Bang. I sit up looking around me. My hair sticks to my forehead as my whole body is drenched in sweat. Shit. The handle of the sink in the kitchen fell off. The fire is nothing but embers and ashes at this point with the sun streaming though a crack in the curtains. Disorientedly, I walk to my bag and pull out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. I am in definite need of a shower.

I decide to go into town once I’ve showered and changed. A quick glance outside of the kitchen window shows evidence of powdery snow dusting every surface. It’s a winter wonderland, literally. I wonder what Peeta would think of this. He always had an eye for beauty. Thoughts of him brings me back to my dream. It was so realistic and I-I wish it could be real. What am I thinking? Even though it's not exactly right, I don’t regret any of these thoughts.

***

As I walk around the narrow brick streets, stopping briefly in each store, my stomach lightly grumbles. In the distance, a bakery can be seen. Warm light spills out the clear windows, illuminating the snow in gold. My fingers itch to open the heavy, wood door and feel the heat tingle my cheeks and toes. The aroma of freshly baked pastries and bread waft into my nose, leading me to the door.

The wooden floor is worn but homely and the countertops have just been cleaned. Surprisingly, the cozy bakery is empty, not a soul can be seen. Eh, their loss. More pastries for me.

I bend down to look at all the mouth watering cookies, mini cakes, and breads. and spot something that I remember from my childhood. When I was younger, my dad would take me to the bakery every Sunday after hunting. He would buy a cheese bun and spilt half of it with me. The curly haired baker’s son would walk from the back with a fresh bun and hand it to me with a shy grin on his face. That all stopped when my father passed and I never saw the baker or his kind son ever again.

A man’s voice shakes me out of that memory.

“Would you like to buy something, miss?”

I stand up slowly and look the man on the eye and say, “Yes, definitely.”

The man is an older gentleman with crinkles around his bright blue eyes when he smiles. His hair is golden with gray mixed in. He is also tall with broad shoulders, he seems like an older version of Peeta almost.

“Can I get 1 cheese bun please?” I ask politely to the man.

“Yes of course, Katniss,”he responds.

“What-wh-how do you know my name?” I reply in a shocked tone.

“Why Katniss, it's me. Peeta’s father.”

“Oh my gosh. Mr. Mellark? It’s been years.”

“Yes indeed it has. I sold this bakery about a decade ago and moved closer to the city to be near Peeta. He helped me open a bakery there, which he owns now, and it is very successful,” he says with pride in his voice. “I moved back to Panem about a year ago and bought this bakery back and it has been my love ever since.”

I nod at this and realize that Peeta works for a huge corporation he started up and owns a bakery. What else can he do?

Mr. Mellark walks to the back, I’m guessing to pick up a fresh cheese bun, and discusses something with someone. I’m slightly craning my ears to hear what is being said when the last person I expected to be here walks out.

Peeta.

Fucking.

Mellark.

“K-Katniss. What are you doing here,” he says, slightly flustered.

My cheeks blush as I remember my erotic dream of last night. Peeta’s hair is unruly as if it has been brushed through by his hands one too many times. He is wearing a tight fitting white shirt with a similarly colored apron around his muscular waist. A bit of flour lines his upper cheek and icing trails down his shirt. He is hot.

“Uh, I decided to come home for Christmas. What about you?”

How ironic is it that the girl who always had something rude to spat out at Peeta, can barely make a comprehensible sentence.

“Same. So, um, here is your cheese bun,” Peeta replies while handing me the gooey and delicious pastry with a crooked grin.

Oh my God.

Peeta is that boy. The boy with the bread. My boy with the bread.

“Th-tha-thank you,” I stutter out.

I quickly turn on my heel and find a table to eat at. The daisies and flickering candles create a sweet ambiance that distracts me from the weather outside. Speaking of which, the snow is heavily falling, to the point where you can’t see your own hand in front of your face. On top of that, it's dark, the sunset having already set, and I realize that getting home will not be easy.

Shit.

The cheese bun, which was delicious, is gone in a flash and I start towards the door. I push with all my might but realize it won’t open because of the packed snow in front of it. Dang it.

“Katniss, do you need help?” Peeta asks, watching my struggle.

“No, I don’t need help,” I grumble. I then turn back around, back facing Peeta, and push some more.

After a couple more attempts and badly held in giggles from Peeta, I give up and resignedly walk back to the table I had preciously occupied. Damn him.

I come to the conclusion that I will not be leaving this bakery until at least morning. Might as well get prepared for a long night.

Peeta comes towards the table and says, “Seeing as the snow won’t let up any time soon, I guess we are stuck here.” No duh.

I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly at this and lay my head on my arms.

“Well, the table can’t be comfortable, Katniss.”

“It’s fine, Peeta. Perfectly okay,” I mumble to him in my sweater.

“I-I have a loft above the bakery with a bed and bathroom if you want to use it. I don’t mind, honestly,” he rubs the back of his neck while blushing causing me to fluster. Why am I so weird around this man?

“Uh-well, if y-you don’t mind,” I respond while standing up and gathering my stuff.

“Follow me.”

Peeta leads me through what seems a maze of a kitchen in the back and farther into the building until we reach a flight of stairs.

“Ladies first,” he tells me.

I blush, again, and walk quickly up the stairs. At the top, is a large oak door which I can only guess was from a large tree that soars into the air. Peeta steps around me and unlocks the door, cracking it open. I cautiously peer at him and he nods his head in a manner of telling me to enter.

Whoa. That is my first reaction to the professional kitchen with metal countertops and floor to ceiling window on the south wall. In one corner is a mini office, complete with a desk and chair with stacks of paper, bills I'm guessing, laid on top. The opposite side of the loft holds a worn, blue couch and small tv. Outdoor lights brighten the place and can be found hanging from almost every high surface. The bathroom is directly across from the front door and the spacious bedroom is next to it. Who new a loft could have this much character with its brick walls and worn orange wood floors.

“My father has a house about a mile from here and we rent this place out when I’m not home. It helps during slow times at the bakery and I don’t get down here much so its rented almost all year round. This is home for me, I guess.” Peeta says timidly.

“I’m speechless. This loft is beautiful,” I say in awe.

I drop my belongings and follow Peeta as he gives me a quick tour.

“Thank you for this, truly,” I address him.

“Of course, Katniss. I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he smiles back at me.

“Could I use a toothbrush and tooth paste by chance?”

“Yes, I will go get them for you,” Peeta says as he walks to a small hall closet. “I also have some sweats and a t-shirt you can borrow if you would be more comfortable.”

“U-uh yes. Thank you,” I say quickly, stumbling on my words. To be honest, I hadn’t even thought about changing but Peeta offered so I couldn't refuse.

He returns with clothes and basic toiletries for me to use tonight and I take them and smile shyly.

“I’ll be back.”

He nods his head and walks over to the kitchen, I presume to bake.

Closing the bathroom door softly, I realize the awkward predicament I am currently stuck in. What does it mean that I’m wearing my boss’ clothes? I wore his shirt before. This isn't that different. What about sleeping arrangements? Surely, he will want to sleep in his bed and I’ll take the couch. Yes, right, that’s perfect.

The shirt’s scent was, well, Peeta. Dill and cinnamon with a hint of detergent wafting to my nose. It was a couple sizes too big and hung off my shoulders. The sweatpants were a different matter altogether. They too, slipped off my body, causing me to tighten the strings. It will have to do. I kinda loved being in his clothes, Peeta’s scent radiating around me and his warmth enveloping me.

Tonight is going to be a long night.

***

Peeta

As soon as I saw Katniss sitting quietly at the wooden table, munching on a cheese bun that I made, I knew I had to talk to her. Through her struggles to open the door and my giggling which wasn't hidden well, I couldn't be more in love with her. I never thought for a second that she would say yes to my proposal of coming upstairs and spending the night. The tinted blush on her cheeks is so adorable causing me to think of things I shouldn't.

I offered her my clothes and didn't even think of how irresistible she might look with them on. Well, shit.

I decided to cook Chicken Alfredo, seeing as she only ate a meager cheese bun and must be starving.

“Thank you again, Peeta,” I turn as I hear her say this, “for the clothes and letting me stay tonight and uh everything else,” she smiles.

God, I love that smile. It’s directed at me too. Can this day get any better?

That’s when I notice my oversized clothes on her slender body. The sight will never fade from my memory. She is sexy and breathtaking. I feel a sense of ownership because she is wearing my clothes. My Katniss. I feel a playful growl wander its way up into my throat and I quickly swallow it down. No need to scare her off, Peeta. Don’t be stupid.

“Y-yeah of course. I don’t mind one bit.”

She hops on the counter next to the stove as if it is an everyday occurrence. “Whatcha cooking? It smells divine,” she asks while her stomach rumbles.

I let out a snort, “Hungry are we?”

“Duh, I may be small but I will never pass up food.”

“Chicken Alfredo. I hope you enjoy it,” I respond. Then, I reach for the wooden spoon and dip it into the soft noodles wrapping them around it. I swerve it towards her mouth, a risky move, I know, and see a look of surprise spread across her elegant face. She opens her mouth slowly and sucks off every noodle playfully causing a twitch in my pants and a hunger in my stomach to form.

Katniss leans her head back and moans in delight from its taste.

“Peeta, this is delicious. Can you cook for me everyday?” she remarks with a glint in her eye.

“You wish,” laughter erupts from deep in my belly. I meant it, though. I would, Katniss, I would cook for you forever if I could. If only she knew.

Later, after dinner has been devoured and dishes are being washed, I hear a slight humming noise. It sounds like a distant memory embedded in my mind. That song, I know it. Katniss is washing dishes and I bump my shoulder against hers.

“That song. I’ve heard it before. What is it?”

“The Valley Song,” she turns the water off and gazes at me softly. Before I can respond she asks a follow up question. “Why did you push me off those yellow swings when we were younger?”

I racked my brain for the situation she was indicating. Oh, that day.

“Long story short, I have-had a slight crush on you and may have been trying to show off with my super strength.” At this, I lift my arms in a front double bicep position, showing off my “strength”. I kiss each bicep and hear a giggle slip out of Katniss. I turn my head and give her an inquisitive look. Neither of us can hold a straight face causing laughter to erupt between us like a volcano.

When she finally can breathe after laughing so terribly much, she responds, “I guess that makes sense, body builder.”

“Yeah right, if only.”

Instead of laughing, she peers at me silently, with an unreadable look on her face.

Later into the night on the couch with almost one season of Ozark under our belts and the popcorn bucket empty, I realize Katniss has dozed off on my shoulder. Her forehead isn't creased like it usually is during the day and that scowl that I have come to love has seamlessly disappeared. A tiny flicker of hope floods my senses. Many nights of Katniss curled up against me, me tucking her in our bed with a peck to her forehead, little feet pattering on the hardwood, maybe even the click of a dog's paws. If only this could come true, I sigh internally.

Resolute to enjoy this moment, I fulfill one of my imaginations. Carefully, wrapping my arms under her knees and her back I walk to the bedroom. She is laid down gently on the bed and I notice her plump red limps. Tiny puffs of hair escape her mouth causing tendrils and wisps of her long locks to float. I couldn’t imagine not loving this woman. She has turned my life upside down, for good.

What would it be like to memorize every facial expression she forms or to hug her large round belly filled with my kin, an Everdeen-Mellark. As I tuck her in, pondering these unrealistic thoughts, she stirs.

“Peeta?” the goddess faintly asks.

“Yes, my lov-Katniss,” I respond, almost slipping up, still overwhelmed by those dreamy thoughts.

She reached for my wrist and wraps her slender hand around it.

“Stay?”she murmurs, drowsily.

There is one, singular answer that can fulfill this question.

“Always,” I tell her.

Wrapping my arms around her in bed and kissing the top of her head lightly I realize something I could never let slip from my memory.

Even if Katniss and I are never what I wish, as long as she is in my life, a part of my heart and soul, I shall not want again. My love, my beauty, my Katniss flower.

***

Katniss

A kiss on the forehead and a warm man next to me. Who knew that would make me feel like I’m home. No, not just any man, Peeta. I couldn’t comprehend loving another man. Oh. My. God. I love him. I don’t know when, I certainly don’t know how, but I just do. A sleepy grin crosses my face as I slip into a soft sleep with the man I love by my side. Home isn't always a place but sometimes a person. People may enter your life unexpectedly and flip it upside down. You may even hate the person but one thing is for sure, forever and always, I’m glad it's him.

***

So that’s it? I can do an epilogue if you want it just let me know. It probably seems rushed but I don’t really care. This has been such a joy to write and I’m so so thankful to each and everyone of you for sticking around to the end. Also, did you enjoy Peeta’s perspective?

-xoxo Clara

#nothim #everlark #the hunger games #fic #its over #unless there is an epilogue #ahhh #thanks all #enemies to lovers

40 notes · View notes

solargroup09 · 4 years

Text

Yuevlive ep. 2

× episode two

× ‘96 line first vLive recap

× wc 804 words

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

- The Vlive starts and the whole '96 line is pretending the screen is frozen, so they are not moving;

- Then Doyoung sneezes and everyone groans;

- "You ruined everything!" screams everyone, quoting Woozi;

- Doyoung is pouting;

- "Hello everyone! A lot of people requested a '96 line Vlive so here we are!";

- The members are sitting on a big couch, with Chungha precariously sitting on the armrest. Doyoung, who wanted to be the MC, got himself a chair and the tallest people were pushed to sit on the floor;

- The beginning is a mess, Doyoung is trying so hard to keep everyone focused but Yueliang and Woozi are annoying Hoshi, while Changkyun just wants everyone to do aegyo to see them suffer;

- "You are not allowed to read comments anymore" says Jun taking the phone from Changkyun;

- For seven full minutes it is just dudes showing off their biceps and talking about going to the gym together;

- Rowoon got food from the convenience store and it becomes a weird mukbang for a while;

- Hoshi manages to fit 13 marshmallows in his mouth before nearly choking and dying;

- Chungha is surprisingly great at throwing popcorn in the air and catching it with her mouth;

- Yueliang tries the trick and fails miserably;

- "Let's pretend this never happened";

- Tease Hoshi Festival 2020 edition started;

- "We have no concept today, this live is a mess" says Woozi after reading comments of confused fans;

- Doyoung is trying so hard to MC but it is definitely not working;

- Pray for Doyoung sanity 2020;

- They tried to answer some fan questions but they always get lost and start telling funny episodes instead;

- This episode contains a great amount of inside jokes no one understand other than the '96 line;

- Wonwoo is salty because Chungha mother thinks Rowoon is the most handsome out of them;

- They are currently obsessed with JYP's “Fever”, even if it is one year old already. At random moments they just start singing it and it is MESSY;

- They love BIBI rap part and now it is stuck in fan's brain too;

- “Kiss on my wrist, baby I want more, keepin’ up my lips, baby like muah muah”

- Did JYP paid them to give him a shoutout?

- “We don’t have a leader but if we did, it should be me” says Doyoung;

- “We all know our leader is Woozi because he’s the richest here” replies Yueliang simply;

- “I never said I wanted to be the leader!”;

- “Now you are, congratulations”;

- They are back on aegyo and they want Woozi to show his cuteness again but he strongly refuses;

- "You have to kill me first";

- So they played the clip from Weekly Idol TWICE;

- "I thought we were friends!" -Woozi, 2020;

- They did some acrostic poems and it was more frustrating than the infamous "NCT dream the love" vs "NCT dream IS love" MarkHyuck situation;

- "Oh Canada"

- They are reading more fans’ questions and comments and Wonwoo is actively choosing the weirdest stuff just to piss Doyoung;

- Pray for Doyoung sanity 2020;

- Yueliang is playing “Feel Special” by Twice;

- “It’s always Twice time!”;

- “Is there someone in Twice that was born in 1996?” asked Chungha;

- “I’m googling it right now” replies Yueliang, “Jeongyeon, Momo and Sana sunbaenims were born in 1996! We need to befriend them!”;

- “We will befriend EVERYONE!”

- Honestly, they are a bit scary;

- Fans want to know who has the most damaged hair in the room and it is a FAIR QUESTION;

- They spend half the time quoting memes, they are coming for us;

- Yueliang has been braiding Chungha hair for half the video now;

- Fans are asking if they will ever do a meet up with the '97 line;

- "This will never happen because we are too cool for them" Changkyun answers;

- "Also they ignore our texts" admits Jun;

- Tease Hoshi Festival 2020 edition is still going on;

- Yueliang is laughing so much she is going to die;

- She has actual tears in her eyes;

- "Please sing us a song!" asked a fan;

- They choose Chungha latest song;

- They try to harmonize but fail and go off pitch;

- "Don't sing my songs anymore, please" says Chungha;

- "I'm stressed" - Doyoung, 2020;

- "This was our first live ever and, judging from my manager expression, it will be the last too" concludes Rowoon;

- They close the Vlive with BIBI rap again because it’s just that catchy;

- “All that marks, and I’m woo ahh…”

#yuevlive #solar.yueliang #solar yueliang #yueliang 🌒#solar au #oc girl group

5 notes · View notes

daincrediblegg · 5 years

Text

As Time Goes By (1/2)

Pairing: Arthur Fleck x Co-worker!Reader Word Count: 1803

Author’s Note: Lmao so I’m deadass 3 days late with this, but I got inspired for it literally on New Years Eve, and it’s been running away from me ever since (mostly ‘cause I actually came down with a pretty bad infection, and now I’m apparently allergic to the antibiotic the doctors gave me for it. It’s not been fun the last few days). Here it is now in its final form (split into 2 parts for my own sanity and yours), and with it, I thank you all for coming in at the butt end of 2019 and playing a big part in saving my ass. All your fanfic, all your art and acceptance of mass mutual love for this boy, and whether you’ve reblogged and liked or commented on my art or what little writing I’ve done or even my dumbass tag meta, I’m incredibly humbled and screaming about it literally all the time, and I love you all. Hope to talk to more of you in 2020 to keep the clown love going strong, and I’ll see you all very soon for part 2 ;)

Arthur hadn’t really believed it when he’d been invited.

In his 33 years of life he had hardly ever been invited to anything. Birthdays, Christmas parties, dinners, drinks. If he had been offered any of these occasions, he’d often be forced to turn them down. He could justify to himself that he’d hate to leave his mother alone on any given holiday (let alone any day, with how poor her health was), but deep down, he felt the gesture empty. If he went, he’d be no more than he already was- an invisible man. Nobody to talk to, nobody to really celebrate with despite festivity cascading all around him. All because nobody really wanted the freak there anyway. Why go to all the trouble when he could be far more comfortable at home alone instead?

But when Gary had approached him one sunny Gotham winter morning as he was buttoning his golden vest, and said that the rest of the guys were planning to go to a bar on Nolan and 3rd to celebrate the New Year, he actually thought about going.

He was sweet to do so. Always nice to him. He’s sure the other guys wouldn’t think to extend such a courtesy to him, let alone want to. He knew what they thought of him, and frankly he didn’t think too highly of spending more time with them either. He was ready to make his usual excuse- that meds needed to be picked up, that his mother needed tending.

But it was four little words that Gary had said- soft enough and potent enough to make him reconsider.

“She’ll be there too.”

His eyes find her almost immediately, and Gary’s eyes follow- by the vanity, where she tugs down her wig to cover her hair- bright red spun yarn, dressed in a pair of braids. Her fluffy underskirt poking out a brilliant white under her blue polka-dot dress as she leans closer to the mirror.

She’s lovely. Always has been. In and out of makeup. Always wishing him a good day, laughing at his jokes. She even asks for them- on days when she drags her feet up that long staircase, tired eyes hoping all the more that whatever he has for her will do the trick that he loves best- a smile, no matter how soft, and a chuckle, whether it leaves her chest or not. Anything is enough for him.

He knows he’s going, deep down. He knows it surely as his heart starts thudding against his fragile ribs just a little harder as she smoothes her hands down her plush skirt.

“I-... I’ll think about it.” he concludes softly.

“All right. I hope you will. It’d be good to see you there, mate.”

They share smiles- genuine ones, before Gary gets back to his locker, dragging out his own jacket and wig. Just then, he sees a flash of pastel blue flutter past him, and his eyes flit up to her face, full of warmth as she waves a gentle goodbye to him.

“Have a good day, Artie.”

Chills shoot up his spine in a rush. A hit of joy. An impossible wish, but one spoken true all the same. He wonders if there’s invisible cherubs behind him, stabbing him with arrows.

Arthur lifts his hand, wiggling his fingers weakly as he smiles back at her.

“Have a good day…” he repeats.

Her smile gets wider before she turns her attention to the dwarf next to him.

“You too Gary.”

“And you!” he shouts after her, as she finally picks up her bag and trots down the stairs. He knows his eyes aren’t the only ones on her when she leaves, but he hopes that his eyes are more important than most.

“How come she never tells me to have a good day?” Randall quips with a shrug. Gary rolls his eyes as he turns to him in reply.

“Maybe because you’re an arse-hole.”

He laughs at that. Neither the laugh he pushes out of himself for courtesy, or the ones that force themselves out and choke him. He laughs for real, and he knows he’s going.

He has to.

His mom is nodding off, thank God.

She’s been fed, and they’ve watched a bit of the Live Gotham New Years Celebration coverage on TV- Murray Franklin, hosting- from her bed. The lights are out, save for the soft blue glow of her TV, and it’s just enough of a sleeping potion to start putting her under. She always gets like this, in truth. Out cold long before the night really has a chance to even begin. It’s a blessing, really. Especially tonight.

Because it gives him plenty of time to get ready.

Sure, he doesn’t have much of a choice in what suit he wears- the only one he owns being a deep maroon, a hand-me-down from the last decade. He can’t decide how to style his hair (though he’s bathed, he’s at least managed that much, for her), whether to slick it back or keep it casual, all he has in the way of cologne is something cheap he got from the drug store on his way home from work the day Gary invited him, but he’s got the spirit. For Her. And it seems that today, it’s enough.

He gathers the necessaries from the closet before he leaves his mother to sleep, switching the tv in the living room onto the special while he prepares, dabbing the cologne to his wrists and neck, wiggling his spindly legs into his suit pants on the couch.

Just then, as he’s buttoning up his fly, the brief commercial break ends with a quick jazz sting from the band- moved all the way downtown just for this occasion. He watches as the comedian approaches a couple. Arm in arm in the snow and smiling like they’ve won the lottery. Murray quips of how happy they are, about his own relatively new wife and how it won’t last- all in good humor. But he can’t register any of it.

All he registers is the way the woman’s hands move around that man’s waist. He feels it himself. On him. Faint. A warm hand wrapping around him, just under his jacket, grazing over the deep blue sweater he’d dragged on this morning to go to therapy, fitting so neatly in the space between his hips and his ribs. It’s uncanny. It feels just like her.

And for just a moment the couple on the screen is gone. Replaced by another, far more handsome than the last.

Him and her. Together. Happier than the thousands of handmade smiles they paint on themselves with rich pigments in cheap grease. Hers is particularly divine. Her cheeks rosy as they lift fully to accommodate her joy. It makes his heart want to break his bones, leap right out of his chest, into the palm of her hand of its own accord.

And they remained that way. For hours. Gotham’s imposing buildings shrinking beneath the way they look at each other, hold each other close and not just for the inevitable warmth her body brings to his. And at the stroke of midnight, he pulls her impossibly close, cupping her face when he kisses her, the cold air melting away under their shared warmth as confetti falls around them with the snow. They even get on the kiss cam.

Gotham sweethearts. And everyone knows it.

He smiles, as the saxophone slowly pulls him out of reverie. The chilling blue light of the tv washes over him, and his hand pulls itself agonizingly from the spot it found across his abdomen, feeling his rib sticking out in his laid-back position. Murray, bundled up in scarf and woolen coat, speaks loud and clear into his microphone over a cheering crowd, ever the professional.

“Well folks, this is it! Not much more than an hour left until the New Year! Pour some Champagne, and get your sweethearts close, and we’ll be right back after these messages.”

Panic washes over him so fast he almost tumbles over the coffee table trying to get up off the couch.

He’s late.

Quicker and more lithe than a cat high on their nip, he tugs his sweater off, buttoning up his clean white dress shirt as fast as he can- praying he didn’t skip any buttons, or that he improperly tied his tie.

“Happy? Where are you going?” a sleepy lilt calls from behind him.

He almost yelps, but before he can he turns to see his mother, leaning against the hallway, looking like she could pass out again right then and there. Leaving his waistcoat not fully buttoned, pulling his suit jacket on, he strides over to her and supports her sleepy form, starting to try and lead her back to bed.

“I’m meeting some guys from work for a drink.” A half-lie, as they reach the bedroom door. Enough to not make her question why he’s dressed to the nines and the strong and heady scent coming off of him - discount eros from a bottle. She hums a little “oh”, mulling over what she should say in response. He doesn’t give her the chance.

“I’m sorry Mom, I forgot to tell you.” Another half-lie, but it completes a full truth for her, letting him keep the solitary thought of her all to himself, even for a little while longer.

A look of unnecessary worry strikes across Penny’s face.

“You shouldn’t drink, Happy. It could mess with your pills. And you know I don’t like you being out this late.”

He winces at that. Guilt hitting him like needles prodding his veins. It isn’t much, but it’s enough to hurt. That she doesn’t trust him to leave and make it back in one piece. That she doesn’t trust him to know himself.

That she doesn’t trust him.

But she can’t dissuade him now.

They reach the door to her room, and they both slink in. He lets go of her once he’s sure she can make it the rest of the way to her side of the bed by herself, and swipes up his old hoodie draped over the corner that isn’t hers.

“I’ll be home by next year, I promise.” He purses his lips with a playfully disarming smile for her. She gives him a breathy chuckle of acceptance, and sits back on her bed again, pulling up the covers as she does.

“All right, Happy. Be careful.”

He nods, tugging the hoodie over his suit- trying not to wrinkle the sleeves as best he can.

“I will, Ma.”

He blows a kiss, and before she even has the chance to give him one back, he’s picked up his wallet and keys, and he’s out the door, locking it behind him.

#arthur fleck x reader #joker x reader #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck imagine #lmao part 2 is juicy and will come out when I'm not chaining benadryl to get rid of the nasty hives I've got now #might even be a smutty part 3 but only if people want it.#I love my fluff but I certainly wouldn't be opposed #joker 2019 #joker imagine #also lmao pls my dms and inbox are always open please come talk I'm just really bad at initiating shit #'cause I'm just a shitty anxious baby #my writing #fanfiction

54 notes · View notes

annoyinglyjovialbird · 4 years

Text

Voltron: Next Generation

Impending Difficulties: I

Word Count: 2812

AN: Don’t hate me too much. XD

It had only been a few hours, but Kenny's brain couldn't seem to process anything but the encounter from before.

It had been years.

His grandfather never spoke about either of Kenny's siblings, never mentioned them, or even what had happened to them. During the launch of the failed mission, the one Kenny's parents never came back from, he found it weird that he didn't see his sister. His parents asked him about it but he could only shrug. He hadn't seen her in three years at that point. It was her birthday, but Kenny suspected they didn't know.

Every memory Kenny had stored away in his brain was being taken out and being sorted through again. Unfortunately, the reason for the resorting came up empty when Kenny couldn't find what he needed.

He couldn't remember his sister's face.

Allie, who had been wandering the ship and the only one awake, passed by the bridge. Seeing Kenny leaned over, she thought nothing of it. This was the fifth time she passed the bridge, and Kenny still hadn't moved. On the sixth pass, Allie had two large cups. One of them had a tea bag string over the rim, the other did not. Both drinks were steaming and brown, albeit two different shades.

With careful steps, Allie placed the cup with the teabag on the console desk in front of Kenny and walked away without another word. The pager on her belt made a sound, and Allie walked towards the observation room.

In Kenny's mind, a brightness came over his memories.

Laughter rang out in the juniberry fields on Uncle Lance's farm, chasing a dwarf around. Black hair in pigtails and a dress covered in red poppies. Tripping over something in the fields, Kenny landed face-first in the juniberries. Instead of complaining and standing up, he rolled over in the fields and stared at the never-ending blue sky. The dwarf he had been chasing toddled towards him with the biggest smile on her face. Letting a small giggle, she smacked her hand on Kenny's forehead. He laughed at the smack, staring at her face. It was blurry. He couldn't see anything past that big smile.

"Klance!" A delighted squeal came from her mouth and she once again toddled forward.

"Kenny, you okay?" Uncle Lance asked, bending over the fallen boy. His arms went to the little girl's waist and she was pulled higher and higher. Her squeals didn't seem to stop.

"Yeah, I'm okay." Kenny used a hand to shield himself from the glaring sun to stare at his uncle and the little girl. She had turned her head away from Kenny, staring at something behind them.

"Good." Lance readjusted the girl, who turned her focus to the man who had moved her from her perch on Lance's hip. "Ahora te paras o te paro!" In a flash, Kenny had stood, running towards Uncle Lance's house where the other farmhands (or cousins who needed something to do in the summer) were heading. Looking back at fields he'd left, Kenny saw the little girl had laid her head on Uncle Lance's shoulder, turning away again.

In another memory, Kenny was sitting at a dinner table. The book work in front of him was unreadable, but he was counting his lucky stars that he wouldn't be doing whatever his brother was doing at the head of the table. The boy at the head had dark hair, wearing a red jacket with a green stripe around the middle. In front of him was an array of wires and connectors with a light bulb and two switches. One of the papers in front of Kenny was the answer sheet to his brother's problem.

"Hey, Ky." The boy had looked up and said. Turning to a doorway that led to bedrooms, the little girl from before was rubbing her eyes. Her hair was a little longer but still styled in pigtails. Her jammies were a vibrant shade of seafoam, a gift from Uncle Lance. "Did we wake you up?" Without saying a word, the girl approached the boy, and he pulled her into his lap. She stared at the circuit board with bright, curious eyes. She noticed something off to the side and grabbed it. Attaching it to connectors in between the switches, she pointed at the switch to her right. Complying, the boy flipped the switch, and the light bulb lit. His face said it all. He had no idea what he was doing wrong.

"Ky, what did you do?" By this point, the girl had covered her addition with her hands to keep it out of view of the boy. When she went to point, Kenny saw what it was. With a flourish, she held her hands up and almost smacked the older boy in the face.

"You were missing a power source," Kenny said for the girl, who had let her arms fall to her side and looked up at the boy. He had started rubbing his head, staring at the battery. Kenny remembered he was taking a double course load, something no one had done without losing sleep or sanity.

"Kyla!" Kenny's mom came around the corner. Her brown hair was pulled into a ponytail and her eyes matched the girl. The green long-sleeved shirt and the oversized gray coat was a signature for her, along with the transition lenses over her eyes. "Leave your brothers alone!"

"Mom, stop." The boy sighed, leaning back in the chair. The little girl, Kyla, had bowed her head and her eyes became glassy.

"She's a kid! What can she do?"

"C'mon, Ky." Kenny stood, walking towards the now upset little girl. "Don't listen to Pidge, she's just upset," He said much quieter, lifting the little girl. Her arms wrapped around Kenny's neck and her head leaned into his shoulder. Taking her back to her room, Kenny pulled aside the dark gray comforter covered in white stars and the white sheet underneath covered in gray astronauts. The little girl hung on for dear life as she sat on the bed. Unwrapping her arms from his neck, Kenny looked into her eyes, which had dimmed. Reluctantly, she laid her head down on the pillows and fell asleep.

A hand on his shoulder startled the poor man. Returning to reality, his eyes took in the sight of the bridge. Following the hand on his shoulder, he met a pair of jarringly familiar brown eyes. Even if they weren't as bright nor as curious as they once were, they matched his mom's eyes.

"Kenny," Kova repeated, trying to get the young man's attention. He stared at her like she was the object he had been looking for his entire life. Pulling a tissue from the box Allie had brought by earlier, she patted Kenny's tear-stained cheeks.

"Will he be alright?" Allie asked, arms crossed. After checking on Keith, she had passed by a few more times. When she found Kenny crying, she left a tissue box and ran for Kova's room.

"Kenneth? You have to breathe." Kova said to the young man instead. He was taking shuddering breaths, just roaming over Kova's face.

"Kyla?" He whispered under his breath. Kova met his eyes with shock, then defensiveness, finally with acceptance. She didn't nod, nor did she shake her head.

"C'mon, Ken." Pulling on Kenny's hands, Kova stood. "Let's get you to bed." Kova walked Kenny to the door, with Allie following close behind with the box.

——————————————————

In the morning, Kova was determined to let the others know, with or without the Colonel's approval. Speaking of the Colonel, he had thought long and hard about Kova's words. Shiro knew Kova was serious. She didn't fight orders unless she deemed it necessary for a specific reason.

She fought patrol officers when they tried to restrain students to Garrison grounds.

She fought her commanding officer when Caleb and her groups teamed up for training purposes.

She even fought Curtis when he tried to stop the pair from taking little Cyrus to the McClain's farm when he and Shiro were on vacation.

In every event, Kova won the fight. She was smart, strong, and dealt with any consequences that would come.

Other students tried using Kova as a scapegoat and immediately realized why she had permission to leave Garrison grounds. They didn't appreciate the unpaid work on McClain's farm as much as Kova did.

The commanding officer purposely gave the teams the hardest jobs on school grounds to make the others leave. They stayed intact until the last quarter when Jazz transferred to a more traditional school setting and Allie became her replacement.

With the last one, while Kova had to be the one to bathe Cyrus after falling butt-first into a mound of freshly scooped cow droppings, she didn't complain.

Kova sat through breakfast without a word to anyone, eating from the small bag of assorted nuts and dried fruit she snuck onboard. Cake and Liz exchanged nervous looks, while Allie stared at Kenny nibbling on an Arusian fruit.

At least it wasn't whatever beverage the Arusians packed for them.

When finished, Kova stood and walked towards the bridge. Without saying a word, the others followed. They were in their respective seats while Kenny sat in his corner as they stared at the slowly changing sky.

Shiro walked into the bridge, descended the staircase, and went right up to the window. Kova stared at the back of his head, daring him to try to tell her no.

Turning around, his eyes met hers. A tense minute.

Cake nervously looked from Shiro to Kova and back again. Caleb was tense, ready to hold someone back. Liz followed this sentiment with her bayard in hand. Allie had a first aid kit under her console if a fight did break out. Kenny was lost, staring ahead.

Shiro broke the stare with a sigh. Looking up again, he said, "Tell them."

Opening a program on her console, Shiro walked forward so he wasn't covering the screen. On-screen, three folders appeared with different titles.

The first read 'ACHLYS MISSION'. The second read 'FIRE REVIVAL'. The third was simply 'KHKH'.

Typing away at her console, the first folder opened. Documents, pictures, and a video file fell into order on the screen. Clicking on a particular picture, Shiro looked away.

The ACHLYS was standing tall and proud, most notably intact. In front of it stood five people. From left to right, a woman with medium-length brown hair pulled into a braid. She had an arm around the waist of the man to her left, who was a full head taller than her with a scar on his right cheek and black hair tied into a ponytail. A gloved hand was on the shoulder of the Colonel, who had a hand tucked into his pants pocket. The man on the other side of the Colonel had tan skin and cropped brown hair. The last man also had cropped hair, black in color, and was much darker than the man next to him. Four of the five people in the picture wore matching orange, gray, and white suits. The men to the Colonel's left had helmets in their hands, while the ones to his right didn't.

"Pictured left to right: Katie Holt, Keith Kogane, Colonel Takashi Shirogane, Lance McClain, and Hunk Garrett." Liz read aloud, squinting to read the caption. Kova opened a document file and it appeared beside the picture. In big bold letters, the word 'CLASSIFIED' was stamped onto the page. The top read 'INCIDENT REPORT & DISAPPEARANCE OF ACHLYS CREW'.

"I was right." Cake turned in his seat to stare at Kova. "You did know what happened."

"We weren't supposed to say anything," Caleb replied instead.

"The ACHLYS was ambushed," Shiro said, staring at the picture. "According to evidence collected, the crew escaped in pods, but never made contact."

"What evidence?" Shiro stayed silent. "I thought we were learning everything, so why—"

"Lance was the only one of the four that returned to Earth. His pod was used to locate the others, but it was unsuccessful. It was too dangerous to continue."

"But we found Keith! He's alive, right?" Cake turned his attention to Liz and Allie. Both girls were staring at the small devices in their hands. Something of Liz's creation used to monitor Keith's monitor. If there was a too high spike, a too low valley, or a change in anything, it would alert them both.

Keith had been unresponsive and stable since he had been brought on.

"My dad could still be—"

"Cake," Kova said. Her voice was firm, staring straight ahead. "The ACHLYS was ambushed by the Fire after an initial recon by Keith and Pidge." Cake became quiet, turning to the screen.

Closing the file, Kova opened the second folder. Possibly even more documents came from the folder, many of them with the same 'CLASSIFIED' stamped onto them.

Opening a picture file, it showed a crazed timeline of events leading up to the ambush Kova mentioned. Kova was adding onto it.

At the top of the chain was a Galra with huge fluffy purple ears that seemed to curve like horns. A robotic eye replaced their left eye while their right eye was entirely yellow. Under his picture, the nametag read 'SENDAK: DECEASED; FORMER'. A red line pointed down towards a second Galra. Or Altean. You couldn't really tell. The being in the picture had an almost gray skin tone with yellow sclera and dark irises and pupils. Their ears were pointed, a long chain earring running from the tip to the lobe. Below, their name tag read 'RALAN: ALIVE; CURRENT'. There was no line connecting Ralan to anyone else on the board.

Taking footage from her helmet cam, Kova changed a few details. Adding a picture of Yorak to the board and connecting a line from Ralan to Yorak, Kova changed the nametags. The 'CURRENT' changed to 'FORMER' and Yorak received an 'ALIVE; CURRENT'.

"Chain of command," Caleb said. Allie had turned around to look at him with a question in her eyes. She turned back around, studying Ralan's face.

"Ralan?" Allie whispered to herself, seemingly trying to find the memory of this man. "Was he a general or a guard?"

"Allie," Shiro turned. "Do you have something to add?" Allie stared at the Colonel.

"It may be in your best interest to contact the Emperor of Altea concerning Ralan." It was all she was able to say before twin pagers went off. Allie stood and raced towards the observation bay.

When Allie left, Shiro began to push down his feelings and started explaining more in depth what the mission against the Fire was about. Liz and Cake would interject here and there, saying the Coeus and Voltron should fight when instigated. Shiro reminded them that while Kova can be as reckless as she wanted, they weren't to go against the Colonel's direct orders.

The Fire's revival began a few decades ago, staying mostly unknown until the recon mission. Yorak's concerned parents, Keith and Pidge, had gone after him because they had reason to believe he was working with an organization that threatened the peace in the universe. The recon mission Keith and Pidge were on took a full calendar year to complete. They had reported a small organization, but it was well armed. On a vote, all former members of the original legendary defender would be suited up to go. Keith and Pidge ran their own organizations, Lance occasionally served as ambassador to Altea but traded often with Alteans, and Hunk had relinquished most control of his culinary empire to head chefs in individual restaurants. The last former member, Shiro, had been offered the Headmaster position at the Garrison, and he didn't turn it down. The ACHLYS was completed in two years after Keith and Pidge returned, and the launch was televised all over the country. It had been months after the mission had launched, and there were routine communications between the ACHLYS and the Garrison, now under Shiro's command. One day, the communications stopped.

There was no response. Not even static. Just silence. Nothing.

Then, on the one year anniversary of the launch, two students reported and assisted a pilot from an escape pod bearing the silent ship's name. The pilot inside was Lance and the students were Kova and Caleb on their way to the green for lunch when they spotted the incoming ship. Neither said a word.

Before Kova could open the last file, everyone on the Coeus had slammed into the nearest object to their right. For Liz and Cake, it was the floor and Kova's pedestal. For Kenny, it was pressing further into a wall. And for everyone else, they had shoulders pressed sharply to the walls. Liz paged for Allie and the crew of the Coeus began defending their ship.

#voltron: next generation #voltron lions #igf coeus #pidge #keith #lance #hunk #shiro #kovalia shirogane #caleb shirogane #liz griffin #allie smythe #cake garrett #kenny holt #kenny kogane #klance #bad parenting #family issues

6 notes · View notes