#but i needed to busy my brain with something other than sitcoms and my own fanfic so | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

upat4amwiththemoon · 3 years

Text

The Villain

Summary: Wanda is an Avenger, a hero. Wanda’s girlfriend’s father is a villain, though Wanda doesn’t know that. What happens when Tony Stark successfully kills him?

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Warnings: angst, some descriptions of violence, me not knowing how guns work (please tell me if I missed any!)

Word count: 1859

Prompts (taken from thecharactercomma.com): ‘A character finds out their best friend is destined to be the next villain’ and “You’re so convinced that I’ll hurt them that you haven’t considered that’s the last thing I’d ever want to do.”

a/n: If you want to, you can send me a request for a fanfic! I can write to any MCU, GOT, OUAT and TVD/TO characters. If you have some other show/movie in mind, request it and I’ll see if I have seen it! I’m not 100% sure how requesting works, so if someone would like to tell me I’d really appreciate it! But for now, I’ll just tell you all here. Feedback is greatly appreciated :)

Y/D/N = your dad’s name

A knock on the door awakens Y/N from her slumber. She grumbles, looking at her surroundings for a moment. A blue hue hits coming from the TV hits her face gently. She fell asleep to her couch while watching Wanda’s favorite sitcoms to understand the references she threw around their conversations. Knocking comes from the front door again. Y/N stands up and quietly walks to the door, looking through the peephole to see who could be at her door at this time of the night. She sees Wanda’s ragged face.

Y/N opens the door. “Wanda, what are you doing her?” She pulls her girlfriend into a tight hug. “Are you okay?”

Wanda nods, breathing in Y/N’s comforting scent. “I am now. Can I come in?”

“Of course, come on. I’ll make you something to eat and you can take a shower if you want to, okay?” Y/N starts walking around the apartment after sitting Wanda down to the couch. She starts going through the kitchen cabinets, looking for something to make for her. Deciding a sandwich would do for now, she starts taking out the ingredients.

“Bewitched.” Wanda comments from the couch.

“Huh?”

“You’re watching Bewitched.” Wanda smiles widely, her heart fluttering. She knew sitcoms were never Y/N’s favorite genre of TV shows, but the fact she was watching them for Wanda, made her feel warm inside. “How do you like it.”

Y/N giggles. “It’s actually better than I thought. I see why you like it so much.” She comes to sit next to Wanda, giving her the sandwich she made. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” She asks, nodding at the dirt and small bruises on her face.

“A mission.” Wanda sighs. “It was a rough one, but still successful I suppose. We almost had him, but people would’ve died if Tony hadn’t killed him.” She takes a pause, taking a piece of the sandwich and swallowing before talking again. “It would’ve been better if we got him alive, but this is a victory nonetheless.”

“Who? A big bad villain?” Y/N smirks playfully.

Wanda giggles, shaking her head. “One of the baddest, Y/D/N.”

Y/N freezes on her place. Her eyes turn wide and her breathing shallows. Wanda doesn’t notice the change in her posture right away, instead, she continues talking about the mission. How he had kidnapped bunch of people and murdered two men, who were most likely ex business partners. Y/N knew that already, her dad had told her very early on that he hurts bad men. That some people might call him a bad man, and her was okay with that, because there were even worse men in the world. He never killed innocent people, he did hurt them for his own advantage, to distract the heroes from stopping him doing his main goals. The two men he killed today were in fact previous business partners, but they did horrible things for fun. Shot endangered animals, drugged and did bad things for women, there were even rumors they hung around in pedophilic rings. When Y/D/N found out about these allegations, he stopped working with them and killed them. Just like that. Killing was never a problem.

“Love?” Wanda touches Y/N’s shoulder, bringing her out of her head. “Are you okay?”

Y/N nods, looking straight ahead. “I need to do something.” She stands up, brushing Wanda’s hand off of her. “You can stay here and do whatever, I’ll be back before morning.” She starts changing her clothes into more decent ones than her oversized t-shirt and sweats.

“Where are you going at this time?” Wanda stands up, following her around, the sandwich now forgotten.

“I just need to go, don’t worry about it.” She gives Wanda a quick kiss. “I’ll be back before you know it.” She walks out of the door, leaving Wanda to stand in front of it all alone.

Y/N sobs inside Stefan’s, who is her father’s right hand man, arms. He is holding her tightly, also feeling devastated from the loss of his best friend. Three other men stand around them, hanging their heads down, sad and ashamed they couldn’t save him. Other people liked to call them a gang or a mafia, but they didn’t see themselves like that. To them, they were just a big family that happened to kill bad people. Of course, others wouldn’t see it like that.

“You know what happens now, right?” One of the men ask as Y/N’s tears subside.

She backs away from Stefan. “No, I don’t.”

“Your father left you a list of names, you have to continue his legacy.”

Y/N stays quiet. She had to wear his mask and become a new him. It was always meant to be hers, just not this soon. She picks up the slightly broken and dirtied mask from the ground, turning it around in her hands. It feels heavy. The mask is originally black, though now it’s coated in blood red paint. That’s what they did, made the mask redder after every kill. Now it had to be cleaned back to its original color. The cycle begins from the start after the mask passes to the next generation.

“I don’t think I’m ready.”

Stefan sets his hand on her shoulder, rubbing it in a comforting manner. “I know this is sooner than we thought, but you have to be ready. It’s your job now.” He digs a paper from his pocket, giving it to her.

The paper is full of names, some of them crossed off. Every name on the lost had done something horrible to get a place on the list. What was considered horrible, was up to the maker. All of the leaders made a list, it was their life goal. Unless they died, then the next person had to cross off the rest of the names. Only after it they could build their own.

“You have to finish it. Kill them for your father.”

“And Stark.” Another man comments, his voice full of venom when he spits out Tony Stark’s name.

“I’m not going to kill Stark.”

They don’t know she is friends with him and the rest of the Avengers, or that she is dating the Wanda Maximoff. Even her father was in the dark about this. It’s not like Wanda knows about her father either. She just couldn’t get the words out of her mouth.

“What? He killed your father! He deserves to die.”

“He is not on the list. I’m not killing him and that’s final.” Y/N commands, her voice rough. She didn’t recognize it. It wasn’t like her to yell or to be cold. Now, she had no other choice.

The man nods, silencing himself.

Y/N glances at the list. Sighing, she stands up straighter and gives the mask to Stefan. “Clean it up, we have work to do.”

After a week, four names have been crossed off the list. The Avengers never got close to catching Y/N, because she knew them. She knew their priorities when it came to missions. Get every civilian out of danger. It was easy to cause a distraction that included innocent people without actually hurting them. Just like her father did.

Y/N punches the man. She is at a bank vault with the owner while the rest of the men are holding the workers and customers hostage in the main area of the bank. It was working flawlessly, at least so far.

“Do you know what you’ve done?” The man whimpers and shakes his head. “No? You have no idea what these pictures were doing in your computer?” Y/N shows him a few pictures she printed out. The man is looking away, not wanting to show any reaction to the photos. “You’re disgusting.” She holds up a gun to his forehead, clicking the safety off.

“No, no! Please, please let me go! I was forced to take them! I didn’t want to, please.” He starts pleading.

Pathetic.

“So, you did take the pictures?” The man nods, his whole body is shaking in fear. “I need you to say it.”

“I took the pictures!”

Y/N hums and shoots him straight through his brains. Spitting on the man’s dead body, she starts walking away from the vault. “I’m done down here, we’re ready to leave.” She communicates to her men through an ear piece. When she hears confirmation from Stefan, she starts jogging to the back door, ready to leave everything behind.

But life wasn’t on her side today.

A familiar with descends in front of her, stopping her to her tracks. “You aren’t going anywhere.” She growls, her eyes gleaming red.

Y/N stares at her. She raises her hands over her head slowly, dropping her ear piece and smashing it under her foot. Her men knew what to do, they didn’t need her guidance anymore.

Wanda frowns slightly, but covers it up quickly. She didn’t expect her to give up so easily. Y/N rips off her mask and throws it to Wanda, showing herself. Wanda gasps. Her stance falters. “Y/N?”

“Hey, you.” She gives her a weak smile.

“Wh-What are you doing here? Why are you wearing that mask?”

“He was my father, Wanda.” She nods towards the mask. Wanda’s eyes widen even more if that’s physically possible. “I had to continue what he left behind.”

“Killing people?”

“Bad people.”

“What are you talking about? Those people up there aren’t bad people!” Wanda glances at the gun in Y/N’s hand. “Drop your gun.”

“You’re so convinced that I’ll hurt them that you haven’t considered that’s the last thing I’d ever want to do.” Y/N ignores Wanda’s command. “My intention was never to hurt them, they were merely a distraction.”

“A distraction?” Wanda scoffs. “They are people, Y/N, not distractions.” Her stance changes again, it goes back to the hero Wanda. “Did you do everything that happened this week?” Y/N nods. “Drop the gun.”

“I’m not killing innocent people, only those who deserve it. So did my father.”

“Your father killed the previous president!”

“He was a rapist and a liar!” Y/N yells, making Wanda waken her magic. “He was a bad person and he deserved to die.” She says, now more calmly.

“No one deserves to die.”

“What about Hydra? Thanos and the chitauri? Ultron? My father? They are all dead. Did they not deserve it?”

“We had no other choice.”

“Neither do I.”

The two are staring at each other, quietly, both wondering what was going to happen now.

“I’m not going to come with you.” Y/N whispers. “I have a job to do.” When Wanda doesn’t answer, she picks up her mask and puts it back on. It covers her whole face. “I still love you.”

“I know.” Something takes Wanda’s attention away from Y/N, most likely someone talking to her through comms.

Y/N uses the moment to her advantage and runs away. Wanda could’ve stopped her, easily, but she didn’t. She chose not to.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff #mcu #marvel #marvel fanfiction #fanfic #angst

383 notes · View notes

imreallyloveleee · 3 years

Note

past past past life OR a combo of A hello/good-bye kiss that is given without thinking - where neither person thinks twice about it. + S5 post-time skip

“Alright.” Jughead groans as he stands up from his desk, stretching one arm over his head, then the other. “I’m gonna be late for my shift, but it seems like everything’s under control.”

Betty smiles up at him from her seat at the table, and nods as the handful of students they’d recruited to work on the Blue and Gold echo their assent from the back of the room. “Say hi to Tabitha,” she tells him as he slings his messenger bag over his shoulder.

“Will do.” He clasps a warm hand to her shoulder, bending down to press a quick kiss to the crown of her head as he passes. “Bye.”

Betty freezes.

For his part, Jughead does not seem to recognize that anything out of the ordinary has occurred until he is halfway out the door. He nearly trips over his own feet as he comes to a halt, turning back to look at her with mild panic. “Uh –” He clears his throat. “Bye. Everyone.”

Betty doesn’t dare look towards the cluster of students behind her, but the abrupt silence and stifled laughter confirm that they’ve just seen their English teacher kiss his colleague goodbye with all the familiarity of a husband leaving for work in the morning.

She busies herself tweaking the center spread layout – or pretends to, at least – until fifteen minutes have passed. Long enough for their buzzing teenage brains to move past whatever surprise they’d notched at witnessing an unexpected intimacy between their newspaper advisors, or so she hopes.

She gathers her things quickly, though she’s in no particular rush – she just needs to get out of this room. “Logan, you’ll lock up?” When he nods, she flashes them all a bright smile. “Night, then.”

Home is a welcome distraction, the house on Elm Street a whirlwind now that it’s occupied by three generations of Smiths-Coopers-Blossoms. (Betty does not envy Polly the day when the twins come home from school seeking help on a family tree assignment.) Everyone else has more or less settled in for bed by ten o’clock, though, leaving Betty with another few hours to occupy herself before Jughead gets home from the diner.

She half-watches an old sitcom, sipping at a lukewarm mug of tea, until the faint yellow gleam of the Andrews’ motion-activated porch light bleeds through the curtains.

Jughead is still fumbling with his keys as she climbs the front steps behind him. He startles at the sound of footsteps, but his shoulders relax when he looks back to see it’s just her. “Hey. It’s late.”

He sounds exhausted. She doesn’t know how he’s been keeping up this schedule – late nights at Pop’s, followed by early mornings at school – but he insists it’s manageable.

“I know.” She watches as he unlocks the door and then steps inside quickly to disarm the alarm. Archie must be spending the night at Veronica’s. “I just thought –”

“We don’t have to talk about it, Betty.” He leans against the doorframe, blocking her entrance, and she can’t deny that it hurts just a little. “It won’t happen again.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Except we do. Because Logan and Britta and Claire all saw it, and one of them’ll mention it to their parents, and then it’ll come up at a PTA meeting or something and Weatherbee will have questions –”

Jughead sighs, and swings the door all the way open. She can’t help but feel a tiny burst of satisfaction. “Okay, fine.”

He pours them each a glass of water, and then more or less collapses into a chair at the kitchen table. “There’s just not that much to say.” He rubs a knuckle into the corner of his eye. “I obviously wasn’t thinking. I’ve got a lot of…muscle memory of that room, or whatever.”

She takes a sip of water to hide her flush. She has memories of the room too, a lot of them much more physical than a simple kiss on the head. Lately, she’s found herself thinking of them more and more.

When she says nothing, Jughead shrugs. “Well?”

Betty drops her eyes to the glass in her hand. “I guess…I’m wondering if you finally feel ready. Because I think I do.” For what, she doesn’t say. If he doesn’t know already, it means the answer is no.

She hears the hitch in his breath. His voice is soft when he says, “I want to be. I don’t know if that means I am.”

She lifts her gaze to meet his. “I don’t want to hurt you again.”

Jughead laughs, but it’s not bitter like the last time she’d said that, all those months ago. “I don’t know if either of us gets a choice in that.”

It doesn’t sound like an invitation. But then he’s holding her, his arm around her waist, hand sliding up into her hair, and he’s pulling her into his lap. He’s kissing her.

She’s kissing back.

(send me a prompt. literally any prompt!)

#bughead #bughead fic #betty cooper #jughead jones #riverdale #arsenicpanda #sorry it just uhhh ends? lol #loveleee takes fic prompts #fic

134 notes · View notes

suituuup · 3 years

Photo

pieces - chapter thirteen

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca didn’t expect to see her again dancing in a strip club, out of all places.

rated: E (drug use and emotional abuse in early chapters)

ao3 link

It didn’t take long for Beca to realize that Sarah was right.

She probably had been oblivious to her feelings for Chloe or chalked them up to close friendship because Sarah was in the picture, but as soon as her guilt over breaking-up with Sarah faded away a couple of weeks ago, it felt as though a veil lifted.

Her whole being lit up every time she saw Chloe, and she craved those soft moments with her, either talking about Bean, or working on the nursery, or cuddling up on the couch.

Beca didn’t know if Chloe felt the same way, and even if she did, she was probably miles away from being ready to launch into a relationship, between the baby and her recovery.

She focused on her music in the meantime, writing three more songs to go with that one piece she came up with the day after she saw Chloe again. One was about being brave, another about getting redemption, and the last one about finding happiness. All about Chloe, and how much her journey inspired Beca.

Beca came home pretty late from the office that night, wrapping up the final versions of all four songs with Luke. She found Chloe on the couch watching a sitcom and padded over. Chloe was now shy of 22 weeks and sporting the most adorable baby bump.

They had worked on the nursery over the last two weekends, hanging cute, colorful pictures of several woodland animals and sticking colorful, minimalist tree wall decals on the opposite wall. The crib, changing table, and car seat had been ordered, and Beca was planning a surprise baby shower with Aubrey, a month after the Bellas reunion, which was taking place in two weeks at a cabin upstate.

“Hey,” Beca murmured, plopping down beside her. “How was your day?”

“Pretty good. Bean and I went for a walk, then we met up with Aubrey for lunch, and napped for most of the afternoon. She’s kicking like crazy right now, though.”

Beca grinned. “Yeah?” She cleared her throat, hesitant. “Can I… feel?”

“Of course,” Chloe said softly, taking Beca’s hand and setting it on the left side of her stomach. “That’s where her foot was just a second ago.”

Beca folded her legs under her and sat back on her heels to be more comfortable, silence descending upon them as they waited. After a minute, she glanced at Chloe. “Maybe it’s not strong enough to be felt from the outside, yet?”

“No, it’s not that. I think she’s stopped.”

“Oh,” Beca let out in slight disappointment. Just as she was about to pull her hand away, she felt a light tap against her palm and gasped. “Oh my god, I felt it!”

A giggle burst from Chloe’s mouth. “That was a strong one.”

“That’s amazing,” Beca mused aloud, her voice sticking to her throat a bit. Yes, she was about to cry over Chloe’s baby kicking, that’s how soft this whole thing had made her. “Jesus Beale, your kid is turning me into a giant puddle of mush.”

Chloe chuckled, moving Beca’s hand to a new spot and keeping hers on top. Bean kicked again, pulling another gasp from Beca.

“Does it hurt?” Beca found herself asking, her gaze sweeping upwards to watch Chloe’s expression.

“It’s a little bit uncomfortable whenever she kicks in the ribs, but other than that, no.” Chloe moved her hand to another spot, tracking the next kick. “How was your day? You’re home pretty late.”

“Yeah, Luke and I added the finishing touches to my EP.”

Chloe’s eyes lit up. “When is it going to be out?”

“We still have to get the art for the cover, so probably in a couple of weeks, right after the Bellas reunion.” Chloe nodded slowly. “Are you excited to see the girls?”

“I’m… a bit nervous to be honest. What are they gonna think?”

Beca smiled. “They’re going to think that you’re a badass.” Chloe broke eye-contact, shaking her head as looked down to her lap. “Hey, I’m serious. None of them are going to judge you. And just like Aubrey and I, they’re going to be so happy to have you back in their lives.”

Chloe hesitantly met her gaze. “You really think so?”

A firm nod. “I know so.”

Chloe managed a smile and a faint nod. “Okay.”

The following two weeks were busy for Beca as she focused on promoting her EP and tied some loose ends before the Bellas reunion so she wouldn’t be bothered that weekend. Early on that mid-August Saturday morning, they set off to Lake Placid, having planned to meet the Bellas there by lunchtime. Chloe didn’t mention anything, but Beca could tell she was nervous from all the cooking she had done in the past few days, enough to feed an army.

She was glad, however, that Chloe used that as a stress-reliever as opposed to falling back into bad habits.

They made it to the cabin Beca rented just before 1 pm, and Beca heard Chloe suck in a sharp breath as soon as she killed the engine, her expression similar to when they made it to her parents’ two months ago.

“It’ll be okay,” Beca murmured, covering Chloe’s hand with her own and squeezing it. She was a bit worried about there being alcohol, as Chloe insisted they shouldn’t have to restrain themselves for her sake.

“Thanks,” Chloe breathed out, flipping her hand over and holding Beca’s for a moment. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Most of them had made it there last night as they were flying in, shouts and laughter carrying from the backyard, where the outdoor pool was. It was sunny and way too hot for Beca’s liking, but she didn’t say a word, as being pregnant in that weather was definitely worse.

If Chloe was uncomfortable with the temperature, she didn’t let it show, looking gorgeous in her yellow maternity summer dress.

Stepping inside, they set the food bags on the kitchen island and Beca walked towards the open bay window, Chloe following behind.

“Hey nerds,” she called out as she stepped out on the patio just as Amy made a cannonball, the splashing water nearly drenching her. “Dude!”

“Sup Shortstack?” Amy greeted as she emerged a few beats later.

“Chloe!” Beca turned around to see Stacie striding over and hugging Chloe tightly. “I’ve missed you.”

“Hey Stace,” Chloe murmured, embracing her back. “I’ve missed you, too.”

As Beca had predicted, the Bellas took it all in one stride, greeting Chloe like it hadn’t been over six years since they last saw one another and making her feel like a part of the group without a second thought.

Now able to relax, Beca helped herself to a drink, watching from afar as Chloe met Stacie’s three-year-old daughter for the first time, a fond smile etched in her features. It was clear from that first exchange with Bella that Chloe would rock this mom thing, given how much of a natural she was around kids.

After lunch, the girls made the most of the pool, either playing various games in the water or sunbathing in the lounge chairs. Beca was content soaking it all in at the table, sipping on a margarita. Her gaze often wandered to Chloe as she chatted with Jessica while reclining on a chair, clad in a bikini with one hand rubbing her belly.

It was easy for her thoughts to escape towards what it could be if she and Chloe were to become something more. Raising Bean together, buying a house somewhere outside the city, getting a dog, possibly getting married...

“Oi, Mitchell.”

Beca snapped out of her reverie, clearing her throat in embarrassment as Stacie plopped down next to her. “What’s up, Stace?”

“You good?” She asked, cocking an eyebrow. “You looked like you were having a moment.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Beca assured her and smiled, setting her drink down before pushing to her feet. She wanted to get in on the pool action, but her bathing suit was upstairs in her overnight bag. “I’m gonna go change.”

“Be quiet if you’re going upstairs?” Stacie asked. “I just put Bella down for her nap.”

“No problem.”

Beca headed to her room and changed into her bikini, sliding her denim shorts back on and grabbing her sunscreen as she didn’t want to resemble a lobster tonight. As she quietly headed down the hallway towards the stairs, she couldn’t help but freeze when she heard her name behind a door left slightly ajar.

“Feelings? For Beca?”

It was Aubrey’s voice. Beca knew she shouldn’t eavesdrop, but she really couldn’t get her feet to move, curiosity rooting them down.

A sigh that belonged to Chloe followed. “I was convinced it was just my hormones going wild at first. But then something happened the other night when she felt Bean kick for the first time. You should have seen her reaction, Bree... she was completely moved by it, and it’s like I felt my heart double in size. And I think about her non-stop, even when I need to… take care of myself.”

“Oh my god, ew, Chloe!” Aubrey hissed while Beca nearly choked on her saliva, her entire body feeling as though it just caught on fire. “I don’t need to hear that.”

“I’m sorry!” Chloe whispered, stifling a laugh. “What I mean by that is that it’s not just platonic love or gratitude because of everything she did for me lately. I’m physically attracted to her, too. It feels exactly the same as it did in Barden.”

Beca’s heart stuttered at that. Chloe had feelings for her back then, too?

“Are you going to tell her?” Aubrey asked softly.

“I…” Chloe hesitated. “I want to. But I’m just getting my life back together, I’m not ready for a relationship yet. And I’m also… scared she might not feel the same way.”

Beca forced herself to walk away, knowing that what she was doing wasn’t right. Her brain reeled from the onslaught of information all evening long. She was physically there, but her mind felt thousands of miles away, her thoughts going back and forth between that night at Barden, and if she should tell Chloe about how she felt.

She retreated to her room before the others, not that it surprised anyone as she was, along with Aubrey, considered the grandma of the group. She had just slipped into bed when a knock sounded at the door.

“Come in,” she called out softly.

The door opened just wide enough for Chloe to step inside, and she shut it behind her, padding over to the bed. “You okay? You’ve seemed off tonight.”

Beca nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay. I promise.” She patted the space next to her. “Wanna hang out here for a bit?”

As Chloe nodded and shuffled to lie next to her atop the covers, Beca felt her heartbeat quicken. It was odd, knowing for certain Chloe had feelings for her and holding the cards in her own hands.

“Today was a lot of fun,” Chloe murmured as she sat propped against the pillows, bracing a hand over her stomach. “You were right. The girls don’t care about my past.”

“Well, your past doesn’t define you,” Beca said with a soft smile. “I’m glad you’re having a good time.”

“Are you nervous about tomorrow? About your EP coming out?”

Beca shook her head. “Not really. I didn’t write those songs with the goal to hit the top of the charts, so I don’t exactly feel any pressure.” At Chloe’s slight tilt of the head, she added, “I wrote them because they helped me work through some of my feelings. Especially the first one.”

Twisting her head to the right, she grabbed her phone and her headphones, plugging them in before gently setting them over Chloe’s ears. She puffed out a breath and pressed play, willing her ratcheting heart to chill the fuck out as Chloe closed her eyes and listened.

The song only lasted a few minutes, but it felt like the longest of Beca’s life. Chloe’s lids slowly opened, and she lowered the headphones so that they hung around her neck, her gaze full of questions.

“It’s about us,” she whispered, no doubt having picked up the few hints woven into the lyrics.

Beca swallowed, nodding. She had never felt at ease pouring her heart out, and she sucked in a deep breath through her nose, puffing it out through her lips. “You remember when I told you about listening to your gut?” Chloe gave a faint nod. “That’s what I should have done that morning after because not telling you how I felt was the biggest mistake of my life.”

She briefly glanced down. “I had broken Jesse’s heart just a little while before, and I was scared that I just wasn’t made for relationships. So I didn’t say anything, because I couldn’t break your heart, either. I would have never forgiven myself if I did.”

Chloe remained silent for half-a-minute, processing Beca’s words. “I knew you were in love with me,” she admitted softly. “And I had the feeling you were just scared, so I didn’t push you. I figured… you just needed time, and I was ready to wait for you. But then…” she cleared her throat, her eyes flickering down. “My life skidded out of control.”

Beca’s heart suddenly feels heavy with the weight of regret. She can’t help but wonder how different things could have been, had she been honest with Chloe that morning. But she willed her mind to come back to the present because there was no point in wallowing in the should-haves and what-ifs. Not when she was being given a second chance.

No chickening out this time. She wasn’t a kid anymore.

“I want to be with you, Chlo,” she murmured, her throat shrinking with emotions as she forced her gaze to remain locked with Chloe’s. “These past few months… living with you and being by your side through this journey-- it made me fall in love with you all over again.”

Chloe closed her eyes, and a few tears toppled down her cheeks. She released a long breath. “I want that, too. I do,” she croaked out, and something that had been poking at Beca’s heart suddenly vanished. Chloe reached out to swipe her palm over both cheeks, her other hand sliding into Beca’s. “I just need some time. I need to find a more stable mindset before I open that door.”

“I know,” Beca whispered, blinking back her own tears. “And I’ll wait, this time. For however long it takes. I promise.”

“I know,” Chloe echoed, her thumb slowly stroking Beca’s knuckles back and forth. “I trust you.”

They shared a soft smile, and Beca didn’t think she had felt this light, ever.

“I guess I should head to bed,” Chloe said after a moment of comfortable silence.

Beca nodded. “Okay.” Releasing Chloe’s hand, she rubbed her palm over Chloe’s belly gently. “Night Bean.”

Chloe stood up and cast her short wave when she made it to the door, shutting it softly behind her.

#bechloe #bechloe fanfic #bechloe fic #pieces

61 notes · View notes

ridiculously-over-obsessed · 4 years

Text

Mistletoe and Pining

@hrmdream Ho Ho Ho, it is I your Secret Santa! The Barden elves and I have been hard at work in the workshop to bring you your Christmas gift and we’re very excited for you to read it! Have the best holiday period, and I hope you enjoy your present!

Mistletoe and Pining

Rating: G

Words: 6.6k

Pairings: Bechloe

Summary: When Chloe panics and tells her mother that she's dating Beca so that she doesn't set her up on yet another disastrous Christmas date, both women have to try and navigate the holiday whilst harbouring their own feelings.

Read on AO3!

Chloe paced the floor of the studio apartment, running her hand through her hair, biting her lip. Why had she done this? This was perhaps the single most stupid thing she had ever done. There was no way Beca would agree to this. Oh god. What the hell was she going to do?

“Yo, dude, I got the groceries we needed on the way home!” Beca called as she let herself into the apartment, “Although they were out of that yoghurt you like-” She stopped as she saw the look on Chloe’s face, brow furrowing in concern, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” Chloe forced a smile, trying to adopt her normally breezy demeanor as she looked at Beca.

“Nice try Beale.” Beca raised an eyebrow, “How long have we know each other now? I know when there’s something wrong.” Beca went and set the bags of groceries on the table before turning back to Chloe, “C’mon. What is it?”

“I- I told mom we were dating so she wouldn’t invite someone over for Christmas dinner to set me up and now she’s insisting I bring you for Christmas…” Chloe knew there was no point dancing around the issue. Better to rip the band aid off now.

Beca’s jaw dropped, but she quickly recovered, shaking her head a little as she tried to keep the idea of dating Chloe out of it. Now wasn’t the time for that, “You… told her we were dating?” The brunette asked slowly, an amused smirk on her face.

“It’s not funny!” Chloe exclaimed as she saw the look on her friend’s face, “I panicked okay? She always picks the most boring people to set me up with, and I just didn’t want another Christmas of awkward flirting and trying to let them down easily…”

Beca could see that Chloe was starting to spiral a little, and she reached out and put her hands on her shoulders, “Hey, it’s okay. I get it. Of course you’d pretend to be dating me, I’m delightful!” She grinned as Chloe giggled a little, shaking her head.

“You don’t have to come, I know you were gonna go and see your dad, and Atlanta is way warmer than Portland at this time of year.” Chloe smiled reassuringly, “I can make an excuse for you.”

“Are you kidding? A chance to see where Chloe Beale grew up? I’m there!” Beca was still grinning, her mind racing with possibilities, but the one that stuck out most was that this was probably her only chance to date Chloe. Even if it was all pretend.

“Beca, you don’t have to change your Christmas plans just for me.” Chloe shook her head. It’s not that she didn’t want Beca to come for Christmas, it’s just that something felt… wrong about lying that Beca was her girlfriend, especially when she wanted it to be the truth.

“I know. But otherwise it’s dad and the step-monster trying to turn us into some perfect sitcom family, and that feels more painful than this.” Beca let her hands drop from Chloe’s shoulders as she started to unpack the groceries she’d brought home.

“Are you sure?” Chloe asked, heart beating a little faster as she thought about the prospect of having Beca there on Christmas morning.

“Certain.” Beca flashed her a grin, “So when do we leave for Portland?”

“Day after tomorrow.” Chloe smiled. Maybe Christmas wouldn’t be so bad after all.

-----

AUBREY: YOU’RE DOING WHAT????

CHLOE: It’s fine Bree, it’ll be fun!

AUBREY: Fun??? Fun??? You’re taking Beca, a woman I once saw eat spaghetti with her hands, to meet your family, who use more knives and forks than even my parents do, and you’re lying to them that the two of you are dating WHILE hiding the fact that you have a raging toner for Beca. You’re right that does sound fun!

CHLOE: It’ll be fine.

AUBREY: Who are you convincing here Chloe, me or you?

AUBREY: Honestly you’d have been better off saying you were dating me, at least I know how to mingle with that crowd!

CHLOE: Oh, so you’d have left your pregnant girlfriend to come spend Christmas pretending to date me?

AUBREY: I typed yes but Stacie smacked my arm…

AUBREY: Just be careful Chloe… I don’t want you getting hurt

CHLOE: I know. It’s gonna be fine, Beca knows it’s not real, it’s just to get my parents off my back

AUBREY: Is it?

CHLOE: Yes.

So now Chloe was lying to her parents and to Aubrey. Brilliant. Chloe set her phone down as she carried on with her packing. Beca was finishing up her shift at the record label, and Amy had already left to spend Christmas with her mom in Australia. She sighed as her phone pinged again, picking it up to see another message from Aubrey.

AUBREY: Does Beca know who your parents are?

Chloe didn’t reply to that. Aubrey knew the answer. None of the Bellas knew that Chloe’s parents owned the biggest digital processing unit company in Oregon, a family business that, once her brother took over, had four generations of Beale men running it. Her family were basically royalty in Portland, but Chloe had never told anyone, except Aubrey of course, but that was only because she’d come to stay with them over the summer their freshman year at Barden.

Chloe had always been determined to be her own woman, and her family had respected that for the most part. Given that she was the youngest of her three siblings, her father had paid relatively little attention to her compared to the others and had opted instead to just throw money at her. It wasn’t that he didn’t love her, Chloe never doubted that for a moment, it was just that he focused on her older brothers more, the heir apparent and the doctor. She didn’t mind, not really, but as she got older, she found herself never wanting to have to rely on her parents for anything, including money. Although they had insisted on paying her tuition fees for every year she was at Barden, and Chloe was never going to argue against not having a student loan.

She was worried that once Beca found out about her trust fund and the money that her family had, she’d be mad at Chloe for not getting them a nicer place to live in New York, or for not getting her a nicer birthday present. Three people in a studio apartment was difficult at the best of times and knowing that Chloe could have changed that might make Beca mad, especially as it would have meant that she had got her own bed. The redhead sighed again as she sunk onto the end of the bed, head in her hands. Why had she made this all so complicated?

-----

It was Christmas Eve and Chloe was pacing again, this time outside the airport in Portland. Beca watched her with a mildly bemused look on her face, but inside her heart was pounding. She hated Chloe being stressed out, the redhead usually the more optimistic of the two of them but watching her like this you’d think the world was ending.

“Dude, it’s gonna be okay. It’s just three days, and then we’ll be back in New York.” Beca tried to reassure Chloe.

“Yeah…” Chloe mumbled, pausing her pacing as she looked at Beca. Their eyes met, and Chloe felt that connection that she had felt ever since their eyes had first met at the activities fair all those years ago. The connection that convinced her, on occasion, that Beca might feel the same way about her, but she was too much of a coward to do anything about it.

Chloe opened her mouth, intending to tell Beca about her parents whilst they waited, but at that moment a town car pulled up, the brunette’s jaw dropping not for the first time that Christmas period.

“Um…” Beca started, “Is that… is that for us?” She frowned slightly.

Chloe could feel her cheeks blush as an older man got out of the driver’s seat, dressed in a suit, a warm smile on his face.

“Miss Beale, I’m so glad you came for Christmas. May I help you with your bags?” He had a light English accent, every bit the stereotype.

Beca stood with her mouth agape as Chloe returned the warm smile, picking up her bag herself.

“Me too Arthur. I’ve got them, thank you though. Arthur this is Beca Mitchell, Beca this is Arthur Wallace he works for my family.” Chloe introduced them to each other with a grin. As bad as she felt about not telling Beca about her family before now, she was enjoying the lock of shock on her face.

“It’s nice to meet you Miss Mitchell.” Arthur nodded politely in Beca’s direction as the brunette just stood there, gob smacked, “Miss Beale perhaps I am overstepping a little here, but surely you should tell your friends about your family’s business before you bring them here?”

Chloe giggled a little as she loaded her bag and then Beca’s into the trunk of the car. She turned to Beca who was still trying to figure out what was going on.

“Dude…” Beca started, finally finding her words again as she looked to Chloe, “Are you loaded?!”

“My dad is Portland’s leading data processing unit producer. It’s a family business, he does really well from it.” Chloe shrugged, sheepishly rubbing the back of her neck.

“Woah...” Beca managed to squeak as Arthur opened the rear door for Chloe and Beca to get in.

Chloe thanked him, Beca nodding as she clambered in next to the redhead, still trying to figure out just what was going on. She was thankful that the dividing window between them and Arthur was up when they got in the back of the town, swallowing hard as she turned to Chloe.

“Exactly how posh are your folks?” She asked nervously.

Chloe smiled softly, taking Beca’s hand in hers to give it a reassuring squeeze. It was a familiar action that seemed far more intimate than ‘just friends’ but that fact seemed to pass both of them by.

“They’re gonna love you Beca. And they’re not that posh, it’s going to be fine.” Chloe could see the gears in Beca’s brain working overtime as she tried to take in all this information, “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you about my family before we came.”

“Why didn’t you?” Beca asked, a soft frown on her face. She thought Chloe trusted her with everything.

“I didn’t want you to be mad…” Chloe’s voice was barely more than a whisper, “I didn’t want you to think I was hiding money from you or something, because I’m not. My family has money, but I don’t use it unless I have to. Sure there’s my trust fund, but I don’t touch that, I’m saving it for the future.”

Chloe was starting to ramble the way she always did when she was nervous and it caused a smile to form on Beca’s lips in spite of everything, “Chloe.” She interrupted, “It’s okay. I’m not mad, why would I be? It’s your money and your family, whatever you need to do with it, it’s your business.”

Chloe just smiled gratefully, not taking her hand from Beca’s as the car headed for her parent’s house. Deep down, she supposed she knew that Beca would understand, complicated family wasn’t exactly a new concept to the short brunette.

“So how are we doing this?” Beca asked, “Do you just want me to follow your lead with it?”

“Yeah. It shouldn’t involve anything too intimate so don’t worry about that.” Chloe was conscious of Beca’s issues with people in her personal space, so she was trying to accommodate for that, “And my parents are insisting we sleep in different rooms, despite the fact that I’m nearly thirty. But it’ll be fine, it’s been a while since I had a bed that I didn’t share with a starfish!”

Chloe giggled at the look of mock outrage on Beca’s face as the brunette raised an eyebrow, “Well at least I won’t have to wrestle someone for the blankets anymore!”

Chloe just rolled her eyes, already feeling more at ease than she had when the plane had landed. It wasn’t long before they pulled onto her family’s estate, Beca’s eyes widening as she looked out of the window.

“You guys have a whole forest?! That’s so cool!” Beca’s eyes were wide with excitement as she watched the winding road take them up to the Beale’s house.

“It’s not a forest…” Chloe laughed, “It’s just a few trees. In a group. Okay so maybe it is a forest…” She conceded with a thoughtful frown.

“Whoa…” Beca exclaimed as they pulled up in front of the house.

House might be the understatement of the century. It was easily twice the size of any house Beca had ever lived in, more akin to a mansion or a small castle to the short brunette. Waiting on the front steps of the house were two people, red hair like flames against the white walls, older than Chloe or Beca, but as the car pulled to a stop in front of them, Beca could see the family resemblance and knew they had to be Chloe’s parents. She put her hand on the handle of the car door to open it but was stopped as Chloe placed her hand quickly on top of hers.

“It’s dumb, but you have to wait for Arthur to open it.” She smiled softly, “First impressions and all that.”

“Oh.” Beca pulled her hand away from the handle, turning to look at Chloe again, “Sorry. They’re gonna hate me aren’t they?”

“No…” Chloe took her hand in hers and gave it a tight squeeze, “No they’re not. They’re gonna love you.” She smiled warmly, ‘Just like I do.’ Chloe added silently in her head.

Beca bit her lip as she looked down at herself, at the flannel shirt and pants that she had travelled in, and suddenly feeling like she was incredibly under dressed. She wished she could believe her, but her heart was pounding a mile a minute.

“It’s going to be fine Beca.” Chloe reassured her as she saw Arthur’s shadow fall upon the door, “Just take my lead.”

Chloe stepped out of the car first, Beca’s hand in hers as she let Arthur shut the door behind them, warm smile on her face as she led the brunette to meet her parents. Beca was trying hard not to think about the fact that she felt so out of place here, or that her hand in Chloe’s felt like the most normal thing in the world, but honestly what else was there to focus on? None of this was a situation that Beca was used to.

“Hey mom.” Chloe grinned as the older women quickly and easily wrapped her in her arms, Chloe’s hand dropping from Beca’s as she hugged her back, “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas sweetie, I’m glad you came!” Chloe’s mum hugged her tightly, her daughter the spitting image of her mother and definitely every bit the hugger she was, “We’re so happy you could make it, we really missed you.”

Chloe pulled back from the hug with a wide grin, turning to her dad and giving his hand a firm shake, “Hi dad.”

“Hi Chloe. Merry Christmas.” His smile was wide and warm, and his eyes had the same twinkle that Chloe’s always had, “Are you going to introduce us to your guest?”

“Of course!” Chloe grinned, taking Beca’s hand again, the brunette shuffling her feet awkwardly, “Mom, dad, this is Beca Mitchell, my girlfriend.” The word girlfriend rolled off her tongue with surprising ease, her heart leaping a little even though it was a bald-faced lie.

“Hi.” Beca forced a smile, anxiety making her chest pound as Chloe’s mom pulled her into a hug, “It’s really nice to meet you both.”

“It’s really nice to meet you too! Chloe’s told us so much about you, it wasn’t that much of a surprise when Chloe told us that you two were dating.” Chloe’s mom grinned broadly as her daughter blushed furiously, Beca’s grin genuine when she pulled back and looked at Chloe.

“Really?” Beca asked, mischief written in every line of her face as she looked at Chloe. She turned to Chloe’s dad, shaking his hand as it was offered to her, “It’s nice to meet you sir.”

Beca hadn’t meant to call him ‘sir’ but her brain was in overdrive as she tried desperately to adjust to the unusual situation she found herself in. It seemed to be the right call though as a smile of approval crossed his lips, returning the firm handshake. Beca mentally thanked god for her experience with meeting new clients at the label as the experience seemed to be paying off.

“It’s nice to meet you too Beca. Our daughter speaks very highly of you. Arthur, bring their bags up to their rooms please.” Chloe’s father’s tone was warm but still commanding as the older man nodded.

“Of course, sir.” Arthur smiled as he went to get the bags from the trunk.

“Dad, Beca and I can manage our bags.” Chloe frowned a little at her father as she moved to go and help.

“Chloe, whilst you are here you get the same luxuries as everyone else. And I’m sure your friend would like to experience them as well.” The look from Chloe’s father was a little condescending and Beca bristled slightly but said nothing, not wanting to cause a scene.

Chloe opened her mouth to argue but seeing the look on her father’s face she new it was futile. Instead, she followed him and her mother inside, her hand slipping into Beca’s once more. It took all of Beca’s self-control not to let her mouth hang open again as the short brunette stepped inside, the interior of the house looking like something out of a fairytale. The large staircase in the hallway (if you could call the cavernous room they were in a hallway) had green and gold tinsel twisted around the banisters, and a huge tree stood pride of place next to it. It was the biggest Christmas tree Beca had ever seen, dwarfing her as she gazed up at the gold and silver decorations in wonder, feeling a little like a child again.

“Chloe! You made it!” A cheerful voice echoed through the hallways as a young man, perhaps two or three years older than Chloe came into view.

Beca was still in a trance looking at the Christmas decorations as Chloe let go of her hand, allowing herself to be swept into her brother’s arms, laughing as he spun, hugging him tightly.

“Hey Ben! Of course I did, wasn’t going to pass up a chance to see my favourite niece was I?” Chloe grinned as he put her down, their matching blue eyes both sparkling with excitement.

“She’s so excited to see you, Jenny took her to do a little bit of last-minute Christmas shopping, they should be back soon.” Ben beamed as he looked over his sister’s shoulder at Beca who was still looking at the decorations in wonder, “Do I get to meet your girlfriend then or…”

“Oh, of course!” Chloe beamed, a soft laugh on her lips as she tapped Beca’s shoulder to pull her out of the trance she seemed to have fallen into, “Becs?”

“Hm? What?” Beca shook her head a little as she came back into the moment, a light blush on her cheeks, “Sorry.” She mumbled with a sheepish grin.

“This is my brother Ben; I think you guys met actually a few years ago? After the ICCA finals in your first year?” Chloe grinned.

“Oh yeah, I didn’t recognise you without all the eye makeup and the earrings!” Ben teased, sporting the same infectious grin his sister always did.

“Yeah, the earrings make security at the airport a nightmare.” Beca shrugged, grinning in spite of herself, “It’s nice to see you again.” Beca couldn’t remember him for the life of her, but in all fairness most of that night was a blur thanks to the adrenaline of winning and the less than legal drinking after their performance.

“There she is my baby sis!” Another male voice made both Beca and Chloe turn their heads as the oldest of the Beale children joined them, grinning broadly as he gave Chloe a tight hug.

“Rob, I missed you!” Chloe grinned, hugging him back just as tight. Once they broke apart, Chloe turned to Beca again, “Beca this Rob my oldest brother, Rob this is Beca.”

“Hi.” Beca grinned as she shook his hand, “It’s great to meet you.”

“Where’s Laura?” Chloe asked, looking around for her sister-in-law.

“Right here!” A woman, about five years older than Beca and Chloe walked into the room, a wide grin on her face, blonde hair tied back into a loose ponytail. Chloe gasped in delight as her eyes fell upon the unmistakable bump of a pregnancy.

“Oh my god, you’re pregnant?” Chloe grinned, going to hug Laura as she laughed.

“Yep! We figured it would be a nice Christmas present for you all if we just didn’t say anything.” Laura giggled, hugging Chloe back.

“This is so exciting! I’m gonna be an aunty again!” Chloe was beaming from ear to ear as Beca watched fondly.

Watching the redhead surrounded by her family, all of them so happy to see each other gave Beca a warm comfort that she hadn’t really experienced before. Being an only child of divorced parents meant that she had never really experienced a Christmas like this. She might be there under false pretenses, but Beca was glad that she had decided to come.

“Laura this is Beca.” Chloe introducing her pulled Beca from her thoughts, “Beca this is Rob’s wife Laura.”

“Hi.” Beca grinned, “Congratulations on your pregnancy!”

“Thanks!” Laura beamed as Rob wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist, “We’ve been waiting a long for this.”

“AUNTY CHLOE!” A loud voice rang through the hall as a small bundle of winter wear barreled its way over to Chloe, the young redhead beaming as she bent down to scoop her in her arms.

“Monkey!” Chloe grinned, spinning her niece in her arms as the young girl giggled gleefully, “Ooo I’ve missed you! You’ve gotten so tall!”

“Mummy says if I keep growing like this, someday I’ll be as tall as Uncle Rob!” The little girl grinned.

“Woah, that’s so tall!” Chloe gasped in amazement as the young girl’s mother joined them, dark hair a little windswept as she set a few shopping bags down, “Hey Jenny, merry Christmas!” Chloe beamed at her other sister-in-law; arms currently wrapped around the young girl.

“Hi Chloe, merry Christmas.” Jenny’s smile was easy as she moved her hair back from her face, “Did you guys have an okay flight?”

“Yeah, it was fine.” Chloe set her niece down and turned to Beca, “You guys haven’t met Beca before right?”

“Hi.” Beca gave an awkward wave as she smiled.

“Hi! I’m Ellie!” The young girl beamed, sticking out her hand as Beca squatted down so they were the same height, shaking her hand.

“Hi Ellie, it’s really nice to meet you.” Beca smiled warmly, the young girl reminding her of her aunt a little.

“You’re aunty Chloe’s girlfriend?” Ellie asked, eyes wide, “But you’re nearly as small as I am!”

Chloe laughed as Beca blushed furiously, Jenny shaking her head, a little mortified with her daughter.

“Ellie, grown ups don’t have to be really tall!” Jenny gently chided her daughter, “I’m sorry, it really is nice to meet you.” She smiled apologetically as she turned to Beca who had stood up, still sporting a smile.

“It’s fine.” Beca shook her head, “If I wasn’t used to short jokes by now there’d be something wrong with me.”

“What’s that saying? All the best things come in small packages?” Chloe grinned, arm easily and naturally slipping around Beca’s waist as she chuckled, the brunette feeling her heart pound, ready to leap out of her chest at how natural this felt for two people that weren’t actually dating.

“Alright, how about you two go and unpack and freshen up, we’re having lunch in an hour.” Chloe’s mother beamed at her children, happy to have a house full of them again.

“Okay.” Chloe grinned, “Which room’s Beca’s?” There was a hint of annoyance in her voice at the idea that (even though they weren’t actually dating – Chloe had to keep reminding herself of that -) her mother didn’t trust her with a partner in her room.

“The one opposite yours.” Chloe’s mother smiled warmly, “I know you’re both grownups, but still you know the rules of this house Chloe. No guys OR girls in your room overnight unless you’re married to them.”

“I know, I know.” Chloe mumbled, taking Beca’s hand and leading her up the stairs.

In the back of her mind she was cursing herself for wrapping an arm around Beca’s waist like she had, it had simply been a spontaneous moment, the redhead caught up in the charade and how easily Beca fit into their family dynamic. Once they were upstairs and had reached the room that Beca would be staying in, Chloe quietly shut the door, turning to Beca with a guilty look on her face.

“I’m sorry. About the arm around your waist thing, I got in the moment and-” Chloe started, the beginnings of a nervous ramble starting to talk form before Beca cut her off.

“It’s fine Chloe.” Beca grinned, giving her a reassuring smile, “You told me to follow your lead, so I am doing.”

“I know… I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, I know how you feel about people in your personal space.” Chloe gave her a small smile.

“It’s really fine.” Beca reassured, “Besides, when it’s you I don’t really mind…” The words were out of Beca’s mouth before she could stop them and she blushed deeply, red with embarrassment as looked at her feet, at the bed that her bags had carefully been placed on, at anything but Chloe.

“Oh.” Was all the redhead could think to say, “W-well that’s good! Um, the bathroom is the second door on the left as you head back down the hall, if you want to shower or something, and I’m just across the hall. I’m gonna go unpack.” Chloe hurriedly left the room, heart pounding as Beca’s words bounced around her head. She couldn’t have meant them in the way that Chloe had heard them right? That wasn’t what she meant.

‘Cool it Beale. This is all pretend remember?’ She thought as she stepped into her room with a sigh. Maybe asking Beca to do this had been a mistake. Maybe Aubrey was right, this was going to be too painful. But it was too late now.

Beca sank onto the edge of the bed, head in her hands. Why the hell had she said that? How much of a dumbass was she? She had been so swept up in the warmth of Chloe’s family, of the residual feeling that had been caused by the arm around her waist that had placed there without a second thought, that she hadn’t thought before she’d opened her mouth.

“Dammit Mitchell.” She whispered, shaking her head, “Just be cool for once in your life. This is just a temporary thing, a favour you’re doing for a friend.”

‘A friend you’re in love with!’ Her brain unhelpfully responded as Beca groaned softly. Why the hell had she agreed to this? Chloe was her friend, that’s all she was, and here Beca was letting her ridiculous unrequited feelings get the better of her.

-----

Christmas Eve with Chloe’s family was far easier than Beca had thought it would be after what she said in the guest room. The way Beca slotted in the Beale’s family dynamic was effortless, almost as if she were meant to be there all along. It was a weird feeling for Beca, to be waited on rather than helping with the food and serving it, and there had been a couple of awkward exchanges that Chloe had quickly helped her figure her way around, but that aside it had gone off without a hitch.

They had bid the family good night and walked to their rooms, hand in hand as if it were the most normal thing in the world (although that didn’t stop a tingle in Beca’s hand every time she felt Chloe’s hand pressed against it), stopping only as they reached their doors.

“I’m really glad I came Chloe.” Beca said as she turned to her with a smile, “I know that I’m a little awkward with all the posh stuff, but I’m having a great time.” They were stood usually close, even for them, but neither of them seemed to notice.

“I’m glad you’re here too.” Chloe grinned, “Like really glad. Even if it were just to pretend I was dating someone, I’m glad the person I picked was you.” Chloe had imbibed three glasses of mulled wine, and Beca was starting to have flashbacks to the hood night party of her freshman year as the redhead pulled her close, “I’d always pick you Beca.”

“Thanks Chlo…” Beca whispered, a little tipsy herself but having drunk less to make sure that she made a good impression on Chloe’s parents (which seemed ridiculous considering they weren’t actually dating, but nonetheless she preserved with making a good impression).

“G’night Beca. I think Santa’s gonna leave you some really cool presents tonight.” Chloe winked, her face mere inches from Beca as the brunette giggled softly. In a daring move that caught Beca completely off guard, Chloe closed the gap between them, pressing her lips to the brunette’s.

Beca forgot how to breath, how to move, how to do anything but stand there as Chloe kissed her. She knew that Chloe was a little drunk, that this probably didn’t mean anything other than to steer her clear of the mulled wine tomorrow, but god this was Chloe Beale kissing her and it was all she had ever wanted since she’d started college.

Chloe pulled away, smiling warmly as she waved her fingers at Beca and disappeared into her room, sighing happily as she flopped down onto her bed. That was the best Christmas Eve ever. Having Beca here only made everything better, Aubrey had been wrong. Stupid Aubrey, how could anything that had happened hurt her friendship with Beca?

It was 5am when Chloe’s eyes snapped open, her chest clenching as she sat bolt upright with the answer to the question that had been on her mind as she fell asleep rang around her head. She kissed Beca. She kissed Beca. She kissed Beca. Oh god. Scrambling out from the sheets and blankets that she’d tangled herself in, she immediately went to Beca’s room. Sure it was 5am and the brunette would almost definitely be asleep, but everyone else would be up at 7am and this conversation couldn’t wait.

Opening the door to the guest room, a small smile crossed Chloe’s lips as she saw the brunette splayed out across her bed, starfishing, her mouth hanging open a little. Tiptoeing, Chloe walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of it, gently shaking Beca’s shoulder.

“Beca? Beca I need to talk to you.” Chloe whispered, her tone soft but urgent.

“Huh, wha… what time is it?” Beca grumbled as she stirred, frowning a little as she rubbed at her eyes.

“Five am. I’m sorry.” Chloe winced a little as Beca groaned, flopping backwards into her pillows dramatically, “It’s just we need to talk about what happened last night.”

Beca’s eyes snapped open, heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t want to have this conversation, didn’t want to hear Chloe call it a mistake. But here they were, and this was a conversation they had to have.

“I uh, I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry. It was the mulled wine, I guess I just got caught in the moment.” Chloe blushed as she rambled a bit. She wanted more than anything to tell Beca that, yes she hadn’t meant to kiss her, but god was it the best thing she’d ever done.

“It’s fine.” Beca forced a smile onto her face as she sat up, “Really. You’ve always been a little handsy when you’re drunk.”

Chloe couldn’t help but giggle a little as Beca teased her even as she felt her heart break inside as Beca blew it off so off handedly. Part of her wanted Beca to tell her it wasn’t nothing, that it was something she had wanted all along, but here was the definitive answer: Beca didn’t feel the same.

Beca thought she saw a flash of disappointment in Chloe’s eyes and took a deep breath. She’d been thinking about this all night, she’d been thinking about how Chloe’s lips felt against hers, how it felt like electric coursing through her every nerve, how she hadn’t kissed her back. Seeing the look of resignation on Chloe’s face made her wonder if the redhead felt the same way. All too quickly the moment was gone, as Chloe got off the edge of the bed.

“Right, I’ll leave you to get some more sleep then.” Chloe smiled breezily, trying to hide her heavy heart as she left Beca alone again.

Beca could’ve cried as she laid back in her bed, hands on her forehead. Why was this so complicated? God, the look on Chloe’s face… it was playing in her mind over and over. Right. That’s it. Beca sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, throwing her hair up into a messy ponytail before quietly tiptoeing down the hall. She frowned as she entered the kitchen, trying to figure out where things were so she could do this properly. A big gesture. That’s what she needed.

“Can I help you Miss Mitchell?” Arthur’s voice made Beca leap three foot in the air, spinning around as she spun round to see him stood at the entrance to the kitchen.

“Jeez dude!” She exclaimed, getting control of her breathing again as she shook her head.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Arthur had a bemused smile on his face.

“It’s fine. I really could use some help though, I- I’m trying to do a big gesture, but I suck at this sort of thing.” Beca smiled sheepishly.

“For Miss Beale I assume?” Arthur entered the kitchen, taking a couple of mugs out of the cupboard, “To show her you don’t want to play pretend anymore?”

“How did you?” Beca gasped, mortified at the idea that they hadn’t be as convincing as she thought they had.

“The barrier between the passengers and I in the car is not soundproof… it’s a very common mistake.” Arthur smiled again as Beca blushed.

“Ah. Yeah that makes sense…” Beca grinned sheepishly, “Alright, so big gesture, how do I do this?”

“Hot chocolate.” Arthur started, “There are mini marshmallows in the pantry and whipped cream in the fridge.”

Beca quickly rushed to get them as Arthur heated the milk, ready to melt the chocolate into at as she returned. There was a quite pause before Beca asked him the question that was on her mind:

“Why are you helping me?” Beca didn’t look up from her hands as she asked the question, “I know you work for Chloe’s family, but you have no reason to help me…”

“I have known Miss Beale since the day she was born.” Arthur was dedicated to his task as he gave Beca the answer, “She is like a daughter to me. And I have never seen her look at anyone like she looks at you, or anyone look at her in the way you do. I want her to be happy, and I believe you would make her happy.”

Beca sniffed slightly as she grinned at him, “I’m really going to try…” She promised.

-----

Chloe lay back on her bed, frustrated and sad at the way that this had panned out. God she should have listened to Aubrey, because this really hurt. She was sad, and her heart felt heavy, and Beca hadn’t kissed her back. And now? Now she was stuck spending Christmas pretending to be in a relationship with someone who wasn’t in love with her, which would’ve been fine if she wasn’t so desperately, pathetically in love with them.

A light knock at the door paused Chloe’s spiral as the redhead got up, a soft frown on her face before she opened the door. Stood in a Santa hat that she had purloined from god only knew where, a mug of hot chocolate in each hand and a soft smile on her lips stood Beca. Chloe stood there for a moment in shock, not understanding what was happening.

“Here. Take these.” Beca grinned broadly, waiting patiently as the redhead took the mugs from her and set them down on a table, “It’s the proper stuff, hot milk, melted chocolate, cream and marshmallows. Y’know the kind you drink when you’re sad because it reminds you of being a kid at Christmas.”

“How did you-” Chloe started, trying to figure out what had happened in the half an hour since she had left Beca’s room that had got them to this point.

“You told me once. You were drunk, you’d failed your Russian Lit midterm in our senior year, and I asked what I could do to cheer you up, and you said proper hot chocolate with all the trimmings, because it reminded you of the happiest times in your life.” Beca grinned broadly as Chloe just opened and closed her mouth like a fish.

“Beca, what’s-” Chloe was struggling to find her words as she looked at the big grin on Beca’s face, her heart pounding as her brain worked overtime.

“Look up.” Beca said softly, biting her bottom lip a little, nerves making her heart pound right out of her chest.

Chloe looked up, gasping softly as she what was fixed (a little haphazardly admittedly) above her head. A tear slipped down her cheek as she lowered her head again, a soft smile of disbelief on her lips, “Mistletoe…” She whispered.

Beca nodded, saying nothing more as she leaned in, closing the gap between them as she pulled her close, pressing her lips to Chloe’s, one hand on her hip the other on the back of her neck. Chloe closed her eyes as their lips connected and lost herself in the feeling on Beca kissing her like this as the short woman’s tongue slid across her bottom lip, the kiss deepening far quicker than either of them could’ve imagined it would. The redhead wrapped her arms around Beca’s waist and lifted her upwards, the brunette’s feet not touching the floor as she just grinned against Chloe’s lips, taking advantage of the new angle to press her tongue against Chloe’s in a way that made her let out a soft groan.

Eventually, the need to breathe broke them apart, a little breathless as Beca stood in Chloe’s arms both of her arms now draped around Chloe’s neck.

“That’s what I should have done last night.” Beca whispered, forehead resting against Chloe’s as she grinned.

“Yeah, you really should’ve.” Chloe teased gently.

“Merry Christmas Chloe.” Beca grinned as she kissed her again, chaste and soft.

“Merry Christmas Becs.” Chloe mumbled, grinning from ear to ear.

This really was the best Christmas ever.

#merry pitchmas 2020 #bechloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale #pitchmas #pitch perfect fanfiction #fake dating au #fanfiction #fanfic #my fic #pp #pitch perfect

74 notes · View notes

themonkeycabal · 3 years

Text

WandaVision Episode 9 Spoilers

I can't believe we're already at the finale.

This has been better than I expected, though I didn't have any particular expectations one way or the other. I had hoped it would be bonkers, and it's had its moments, but I didn't expect it to be breaking my heart. I'm glad Wanda (and Elizabeth Olsen) got this moment to shine. It was very well done, and it's been nice to have fun with a Marvel property again. It's been a little while.

My wishlist for this episode is simply that somebody, anybody punch Acting Director Dick square in the face. And also that Jimmy Woo arrests him. A lot.

Other than that, I don't know what to expect, or how they wrap this up in 30 minutes.

Previously on: Wanda finally earned the name Scarlet Witch after Agatha made her relive the worst moments of her life. Harsh, Agatha. Vision uttered a line that launched a thousand gif sets. And Hayward revealed his genius masterplan which is a reactivated Vision, devoid of color and powered by the energy bleeding from Wanda's hex. I'm sure that will go swimmingly for him.

Let's see how this all ends.

Agatha still has magical tethers around Billy and Tommy's necks, which obviously Wanda doesn't like. Agatha gives the boys a tug, knocking them back, and Wanda lets loose, walloping Agatha. The boys are now free, but Wanda tells them to go to their room. They object, she insists, Tommy grabs Billy and they zoom off. Wanda hits Agatha again with a hex, but Agatha sort of collects it into a little glowy ball in her hand. Oops.

"I take power from the undeserving. It's kinda my thing."

Wanda notices her hand turning gray and gnarly — the look of somebody about to be magically mummified. Agatha hits her with a hex and taunts her some more.

"You're clearly in over your little, red head, so why don't you surrender your magic to someone who knows what to do with it?" Agatha, you're pushing your luck. "I'll let you keep this pathetic corner of the world all to yourself. What do you say?"

Wanda says she will throw a car right at your face, Agatha. I laughed. Didn't see that coming, did you? Knocked Agatha right out of her boots.

As Wanda is investigating, Director Dick's white Vision floats down behind her. He's creepy looking.

Wanda walks over to him, staring at him. "Is it really you?"

He puts his hands on her face, all gentle like, but it's a lie. He starts to squeeze. "And I was told you were powerful."

Gross, AD Dick. I hope you get stepped on by Ant-Man when he's being Giant-Man.

Sitcom World Vision (hereafter just plain old Vision) makes a timely reappearance, and takes out Not!Vision. He wants to know where the boys are, Wanda assures him they're safe, and she apologizes for everything and that she should have told him what was happening, "the moment I realized what I'd done". Poor Wanda. He tells her it's alright. She says she can fix it. Not!Vision climbs out of the burning remains of a camper.

Agatha reappears to note the awkwardness of the situation. She asks Wanda who she's going to choose, the ex or the boyfriend. What happens when Wanda hits you with more power than you can contain, Agatha?

Wanda tells Vision "this is our home." He agrees, "then let's fight for it." I hope for the best for you two crazy kids! Marvel has a dicey record on happy endings, though. Sorry!

Vision takes off towards Not!Vision again. Agatha flies off, too, and Wanda follows.

Across the street Monica is pounding on a window, calling for Wanda. Fietro, lounging with a guitar in his … stoner den?, tells her nobody can hear her. Can we talk about how Monica's SWORD uniform looks like ST:Next Gen unis? I can't stop seeing it and it's distracting. Anyway, she tries to escape, but, Fietro is still all fast and stuff, so she's thwarted.

In the sky, Vision and Not!Vision battle. Not!Vision says Wanda must be neutralized and Vision must be destroyed. Hmm. Not!Vision tries to rip out the stone in Vision's forehead but Vision goes intangible. More fighting with intangibleness. It's pretty cool.

Outside Westview, AD Dick is feeling cocky as he watches both Visions on tracking monitors. I loathe him so much. Jimmy Woo is brought in handcuffed by a pair of SWORD goons. I'm sorry, who the f is SWORD? Like, they have arrest powers now? Dick says "hey, it's my favorite member of the Bureau." New wishlist: everybody gets to take turns punching AD Dick in the face.

Dick asks his minion to reconfirm mission objectives while Jimmy listens carefully, mentally noting each and every violation of federal law and the Sokovia Accords.

The minion says she can't get through to not!Vision, his system is overloaded. A cellphone rings on a desk nearby and Jimmy eyes it, then tells Hayward that he'll never be able to cover up these shenanigans.

While Dick is busy boasting and the SWORD goons are doing everything but paying attention to their prisoner (in my head all the SWORD goons applied to SHIELD but Maria Hill laughed at each and every one of their applications and then called Pepper to laugh some more and then texted choice bits to May tagging them "RE: LOL"), Jimmy eases over and grabs the phone.

"Wanda canceled her show,” Dick says with the sort of confidence only an enormous prick can muster, “so there's no footage proving there was ever more than one Vision."

Jimmy points out that that is dumb, because there is other footage, from SWORD HQ and stuff, and probably evidence of tampering. He casually sits on a table, shaking his head, like he's just so disappointed (i'm hoping he's somehow managed to use the phone to record the monolog-ing) .

Dick is still too far up his own ass to notice Jimmy being sneaky. "No one's going to care once I've eliminated Wanda Maximoff. They'll believe that the Vision that emerges from the Westview rubble is the one she illegally tried to bring back to life."

Wait, bringing him back to life is illegal? You're full of shit, Dick. And also, an extremely terrible person, who will destroy a whole town for … something? A Vision weapon? Who are you fighting, Dick? BTW, I award him no sympathy points for surviving in the post-Snap world. So if he's been scarred by that or whatever, I don't care. Trauma doesn't excuse murdery megalomania. As has been said before: Cool motive, still murder. I hope Vision intangibles him into a lamp post that gets peed on every day by a parade of small dogs.

"They'll thank me for recovering such a valuable asset. You could be part of that victory, Jimmy. If only you had a little more … vision" says the smug prick who is asking for it. And by it I mean something both terrible and humiliating to happen to him asap.

Jimmy fake laughs back. "That's a good one, Hayward. Okay, I'm convinced. The trouble is my friends at Quantico will probably have something to say about your plan. When they arrive. Inside the hour." heh.

Oh, poor Dick doesn't like being mocked back. He tells his brain-dead goons to remove Jimmy. The goons throw Jimmy into a … stack of hay? In a fenced in cage thing? As you have on your pop-up military facility. Where he sets to work removing his handcuffs with a clip he also stole, because Jimmy Woo is cool like that. Close Up Magic! See the things you can learn from criminals. "Flourish" lol.

He calls his friends at Quantico. "I was hoping you could get here … inside the hour?"

Back in Westview. Wanda is looking for Agatha while the town goes about its business. Weirdo delivery guy drives by "Don't shoot. I'm just the messenger. ha ha."

Then she gets hit in the back by a purple hex. Ouch. She has hit the pavement hard kind of a lot in this episode already. That hurts, my dudes, I know this from personal falling down experience. Wanda's hand, by the way, is still looking ashy and not very healthy.

Agatha taunts her from a rooftop. "Did you know there's an entire chapter devoted to you in the Darkhold." How could she know that, Agatha? Also, boo the Darkhold. That bit of nastiness led to the Framework, and I'm still a little scarred by that myself. "That's the book of the damned," says the witch standing in front of a billboard for "Squeaky Shine" lol.

Agatha produces the Darkhold and recites from it, "The Scarlet Witch is not born, she is forged. She has no coven, nor need for incantation." Wanda insists she isn't a witch, nobody taught her magic.

Agatha continues, "Your power exceeds that of the Sorcerer Supreme" Steven Strange will like that. Not much. He's so twitchy about things like that. "It's your destiny to destroy the world." Always with the destinies. FREE WILL FOREVAH!

Wanda insists she's not the Scarlet Witch thingy. Agatha says "oh really?" and uses her mojo on Emma Caulfield. Hi Emma Caulfield! She seems to be 'awake' and introduces herself to Wanda (who knew her as Dottie) "My name is Sarah. I have a daughter, she's 8, maybe she could be friends with your boys. If you like that storyline. Or the school bully, even. Really anything, if you could just let her out of her room. If I could just hold her." Wow, ouch.

Speaking of free will or the lack of, Wanda accuses Agatha of doing this, but Agatha says "She's your meat puppet. I just cut her strings." Poor Wanda. And now Agatha wakes up the whole town, who all head towards Wanda.

And we cut to Fietro's den of manchildness. Monica asks what that place is, but come on Monica, it's clearly a den of manchildness. Fietro is making himself a smoothie and explaining the purpose of a mancave — chillaxing.

Monica ignores him and rifles through his bills and whatnot. She finds a headshot of Fietro with the name "Ralph Bohner" underneath. Because, people just keep their headshots lying around willynilly. Wait, are we saying Ralph is an actor? Lol.

Fietro meanwhile is planning for a Steven Segal marathon — my dad and I watched all of those movies and for the life of me I could not tell you why. We didn't *like* them. I mean, mostly we laughed, but still. Why?

Anyway, Monica is trying to solve the mystery of Fietro. It's not Agatha's house (obviously) it's Fietro's (Ralph). He's an ass and asks if she wants to fight some more, so she flips him over her shoulder and pins him down, trying to figure out how Agatha is controlling him. With her new glowy eyes, she notices the bead necklace he's wearing sparkles in a magically way. She rips it off and Fietro becomes Ralph.

Elsewhere the Visions are still battling in the sky and the boys are watching from their bedroom. They lose sight of dad, but Billy gets a vision of mom in trouble in the town square. He and Tommy run off.

The townsfolk are confused and scared. Wanda tells them they're all going to be fine. "When you let us sleep, we have your nightmares." Ouch. Wanda insists she kept them safe. Wanda, sweetie, you're very far in over your head.

"You feel, you feel at peace," she tells them, kind of hoping that works. It doesn’t. "We feel your pain." "Your grief is poisoning us." "Please let us go." This is an awful thing to do to Wanda, Marvel!

It escalates with all those voices begging her to free them and she screams, grabbing her head, and when she does that, red light appears around the throats of the townies, silencing them, choking them. Wanda realizes and puts her glowy hands up "stop, stop, I'm sorry", releasing them all.

"If you won't let us go, let us die." Wanda promises to let them go. Agatha wonders what's stopping her from actually doing it.

"Heroes don't torture people." Agatha's a very sink-or-swim kind of teacher.

That does the trick and Wanda throws her arms back and yells to the sky, releasing her power up at the hex surrounding the town. "Go, all of you. Now, go." The people run and the town flickers through the eras and the barrier starts to fall.

Outside, Director Dick tells his morons "this is it, we're going in!"

The Visions keep on battling, but as the barrier falls, Vision starts to falter himself. I was afraid of that.

The Morons roll in with their big trucks and big guns because … reasons. I have a very low opinion of SWORD. Maria Rambeau's agency deserves better than this shitshow.

Vision falls and it looks like bits of him are chipping off. He hits the ground hard, he gets up, but he's glitching, too, falling apart as Wanda takes down her spell. He reaches for her. The boys appear now, too, screaming for mom, but they seem to be flickering as well, flying apart in pixelly pieces. Poor Wanda.

Agatha says "Now do you see? You tied your family to this twisted world and now one can't exist without the other." This is terrible. "Save Westview or save your family." TERRIBLE.

Wanda pulls the hex into herself again, recreating the barrier. The kids and Vision recover and run to her. Outside, as the hex closes, Jimmy Woo is, yet again, left to stare at the barrier, cut off from the fun inside. Poor guy, lol. But, his FBI buddies are arriving, so at least he won't get lonely.

Agatha throws a hex at Wanda and Wanda throws up a shield to protect her family. Which Agatha starts to draw towards herself like the magic vampire she is. Greedy Agatha. Wanda's arms are all gray. And SWORD rolls into town square, because that's what this confrontation needed — these dipshits.

Anyway, the Family stands ready to face Director Dick and his morons, in a quality recreation of the Incredibles family pose. "Listen boys, your mother and I never really prepared you for this," dad says. Because your boys are like three days old, Vision, it's okay. "But you were born for it," Wanda assures them very fiercely. Get 'em, sister!

As they square off, Vision's like "oh crap, it's the other me, back in a mo'" and flies off to tackle Not!Vision who's trying to sneak up behind them.

They destroy the town library and Vision wants to know why Not!Vision gotta be like that. "My programming directive is to destroy the Vision."

Ha ha, says Vision, a loophole. "But, I'm not the true Vision, only a conditional Vision."

Hmmm, says Not!Vision, and they stop fighting, "I request elaboration". Hey, Vision, move into Not!Vision's body and you can be true Vision again! Problem solved, my work here is done.

Back to the street where we find Dick and his Morons and Agatha who is not making this situation at all better. The morons point their guns at Agatha who magics them up off the ground like thirty feet in the air, "Same story, different century. There will always be torches and pitchforks for ladies like us, Wanda." I'm not going to say you're wrong, Agatha, and God knows these SWORD morons are morons, but you're also a pain in the ass. So …

Anyway, then Agatha drops them and Wanda reaches out to catch them. But once caught, she does let them drop the last five or six feet. They'll be fine, but also they deserved it, so I laughed.

"Boys, handle the military. Mommy will be right back." They're my new favorite family.

Wanda flies up to tangle with Agatha and Agatha is super ready except … Wanda throws a curveball and disappears. Suck it Agatha.

Down on the ground the SWORD morons continue to cover themselves in glory and point their guns at CHILDREN. I don't care if they're powered children, you know what I'd like, I'd like if one of the morons would just be like "um, but … they're kids and how about no? I'm going to get Jimmy Woo! He'll know what to do. Don't try and stop me!" That doesn't happen.

Billy freezes the soldiers in place and Tommy super speeds by and steals their guns and hats. AD Dick, being the absolutely loathsome, vile, lower-than-a-maggot, piece of shit that he is, gets out of his humvee and shoots at the CHILDREN.

Monica, who has just arrived to the party, runs and throws herself between Dick and the boys, taking the bullets meant for them. Her new powers render her sort of … I don't even know. Not quite intangible, but she kind of looks like a ballistics gel dummy and the bullets go through her but they slow down a lot as they pass and then just sort of fall on the ground. Dick, crossing the line into pure evil, fires again, the bullet misses Monica and heads towards Billy, who just raises his hand and stops it with his power then he grins at Monica.

"Nice tricks," she tells him.

"I like yours, too," he says.

Dick tries to fire AGAIN! But he's out of bullets. He only had four? Or maybe his gun jammed. Anyway, like the brave man he is, he runs to the humvee, gets in, reverses at speed, stops and looks like he's going to put it in gear and drive at them because the dude is unhinged. But! Lo! It's Darcy and the funnel cake truck, that is apparently built like a tank, though come to think of it, it probably was an armored vehicle in the real world.

Anyway, she t-bones Dick's vehicle, thwarting his evility for the moment. "Have fun in prison." Lol

Back to the Visions. They're having a philosophical debate. "You are familiar with the thought experiment "The Ship of Theseus" in the field of identity metaphysics," Vision prompts Not!Vision.

"Naturally." And Not!Vision helpfully spells it out for us. "The ship of Theseus is in a museum. Over time its planks of wood rot and are replaced with new planks. When no original planks remain, is it still the ship of Theseus?"

Vision presses his advantage, "Secondly. If those removed planks are restored and reassembled, free of the rot, is that the ship of Theseus?"

To sum up, neither is the true Vision, both are the true Vision.

"But I do not have the mind stone," says not!Vision.

"And I do not have one single ounce of original material," replies Vision. "Perhaps the rot is the memories. The wear and tear are the voyages. The wood touched by Theseus himself."

Not!Vision says he doesn't have the memories, though, but Vision insists he does, the data is still there, hidden. Not!Vision says nah, Vision must be the true Vision because he believes himself to be. But, Vision says that's not true anymore, he plays the reverse card, "upon meeting you, I have been disabused of that notion." This is the most philosophy nerd game of 'not it' ever.

Vision continues to try to get at Not!Vision's memories. "As a carbon-based synthazoid, your memory storage is not so easily wiped. May I?" Not!Vision allows Vision to touch the glowy bit where the memory stone used to be, and Not!Vision is flooded with Vision's memories. Not!Vision's eyes go … normal, I guess you'd say, no longer robot-like and glowy.

"I am Vision" he says and flies off. It was a lot to take in, I guess. He needs a little me-time.

I guess we're going to have to go back to calling Vision Sitcom!Vision, anyway, he goes outside and the boys run over to him and there's hugging and stuff.

Agatha stalks them from the rooftop, but it seems she might have forgotten Wanda for a second, because Wanda appears behind her and does that thing she does where she makes you see your worst fear. Enjoy that, Agatha!

Agatha sees herself bound to the stake in the woods again. Her coven dead. Wanda is there in the vision, too. "You see the difference between you and me, is that you did this on purpose."

The coven rise from the dead and shuffle to her while Agatha begs for it to stop. But, then Agatha gets control of herself, I guess, and the undead mummy witches start saying Wanda's name and pointing at her. You're just no fun at all, Agatha.

Now the coven ties Wanda to the stake. "You can't win, Wanda. Power isn't your problem; it's knowledge." That is, actually, very true. Wanda's Scarlet Witch headpiece appears on her all magical-like, marking her as the Scarlet Witch of myth, I suppose.

"Give me your power, and I will correct the flaws in your original spell. And you and your family and the people of Westview can all live together in peace."

If Agatha is so smart, why doesn't she just take Wanda's power, hmm?

"And no one will ever have to feel this pain again. Not even you," Agatha tries cajoling, but that was the wrong tack to take. Wanda gives her the head tilt of imminent ass-kicking, and her powers explode outward, flinging way the weird creepy coven of zombie mummies. Then Wanda knocks them both back into Westview.

She starts hammering Agatha with her powers. "Take it, I don't want it." Vision tries to fly up to help her, but she blocks him with a spell.

Witch fight in the clouds. Every time Wanda misses Agatha, her hexes hit the shield. Outside Jimmy Woo looks on, concerned.

"There's more," Agatha says, "I want it all." Wanda's looking a little mummified, but she's still flinging hexes left and right while Agatha cackles evilly. Eventually Wanda runs out of steam and just sort of hovers there.

"About our deal. Once case, a spell can never be changed." You're terrible, Agatha. Very cruel. "This world will always be broken. Just. Like. You." Low, Agatha. Lower than dirt

Agatha gathers herself and tries to hit out at Wanda with all that yummy power but it just fizzles. Nothing happens. Oh noes, Agatha, what's wrong?

Wanda starts looking like her normal self again and behind her glows a giant rune. Oh, dear, Agatha, you taught Wanda something. When she was missing Agatha and hitting the shield all those times, she was actually casting runes. LOL to you.

The sky is angry and red and stormy. Monica, Vision, and the boys look on.

"In a given space," Wanda says, "only the witch who cast them [runes] can use her magic. Thanks for the lesson, but, I don't need you to tell me who I am."

The Scarlet Witch headpiece reappears and now Agatha has her a fright. I like you Agatha, you're rotten in fun way, but you took it too far, sister. Wanda takes her power back with prejudice and she is transformed into the Scarlet Witch. Updated version of the classic costume. Nice, I like it.

"Oh god," Agatha gasps, "You don't know what you've done." Wanda drops her on the ground more gently than she deserved.

Agatha asks if Wanda's going to lock her up somewhere. And Wanda says, yeah, here in lovely Westview. "I'll give you the role you chose; the nosy neighbor."

"You have no idea what you've unleashed. You're gonna need me." "If I do, I know where to find you." lol

And Wanda turns Agatha back into Agnes. "Hiya, hon. Say, that some kind of getup you're wearing. Did I leave the oven on, or is that just you, hot stuff."

Wanda says goodbye and walks over to her family, kissing her boys.

Vision says their dream home has turned into a fixer-upper. "I know you'll set everything right. Just not for us."

"No," Wanda agrees because Marvel likes to hurt us all. "Not for us."

Monica kind of bounces on her toes, trying to get Wanda's attention, but probably also not entirely wanting Wanda's attention. Wanda gives her a hesitant nod as she and Vision leave with the boys.

The field around town starts to shrink, the circus turns back into the SWORD base.

They get home and tuck the boys into bed.

"Big day today," Vision says. "Your mother and I … are very proud of you both."

"Very proud," Wanda agrees. "You know, a family is forever. We could never truly leave each other, even if we tried. You know that right?"

They kiss their boys goodnight. Outside the window, the field flickers and fails. "Boys, thanks for choosing me to be your mom."

The town of Westview returns to its sad old self, street by street. Wanda turns out the lights in their home.

But, Vision turns one back on. "Oh, I read somewhere, that it's bad luck to say goodbye in the dark." "No, you didn't." You guys are killing me.

Why did this have to be so good and sad?

And finally the collapsing field reaches their street, they watch it coming.

"Wanda, I know we can't stay like this, but before I go, I feel I must know, what am I?"

She touches his face. "You, Vision, are the piece of the mind stone that lives in me. You are a body of wires and blood and bone that I created. You are my sadness and my hope, but mostly you're my love." Stupid show, my screen went blurry there for a second.

Vision cries a bit, they both are a little astonished by the tear.

"I have been a voice with no body, a body but not human. And now, a memory, made real. Who knows what I might be next." Aww, Vision, I love you.

Here comes the field.

"We have said goodbye before, so it stands to reason—" "We'll say hello again." STUPID SHOW why do you have to make me feel things?

The field collapses and everything is stripped back into nothing. "So long, darling." And Wanda stands in the empty lot, in the foundations of the home that never was.

She walks away again. Poor Wanda. And back into town. The people look at her, they don't seem happy. I don't know why she chose to do that, she does have a car. Ah, she's going to talk to Monica.

"They'll never know what you sacrificed for them," Monica says. "It wouldn't change how they see me," Wanda tells her. "And you? You don't … you don't hate me?" "Given the chance, and given your power, I'd bring my mom back. You know I would." "I'm sorry, for all the pain I caused."

Wanda promises to figure out her power and then files off. The End.

Heartbreaking. Good, but heartbreaking.

Mid-credits scene. Jimmy Woo is large and in charge. He's setting up the incident response in town, ordering folks around (in his good natured way).

Jimmy spots his friend. "Monica!" "Authority looks good on you, Jimmy." "Where's Darcy?" "Something about ‘debriefs are for the weak’?" lol "But we can thank her for that."

And down the street AD Dick is being arrested. Nobody punched him in the face. I'm sad. Darcy came closest, I guess. What with hitting him with the very large truck. It will have to do.

Monica is summoned to the theater by another agent. Hmm nobody there. The agent follows. "I was sent by an old friend of your mother's." And the agent is a Skrull. "He heard you'd been grounded. He'd like to meet with you."

"Where?"

The Skrull points up.

What was Fury's Skrull buddy's name? I don't recall. I didn't actually like the Captain Marvel movie. I felt like they told it backwards, and also they should have just cast a younger actor to play young Nick Fury. That bugged me. And I wanted more of Annette Benning’s character. Anyway … I guess we know where we’ll see Monica again.

Well, that was fun. Like I said, I'm not sure what I expected from this series, just that it be some degree of fun, I guess. But it was much better than whatever I had half-envisaged. AND SADDER, MARVEL.

Thank goodness for the multi-verse. I'm sure we'll see some version of the boys again. And also Not!Vision, who is probably also Vision at this point, knocking around the world, trying to find himself. Talk about identity crisis. I feel you, brother. Stay safe, get plenty of whatever passes for rest for you!

See you guys in a couple of weeks for Falcon and the Winter Soldier. I WANT NO TEARS FROM THAT ONE! Unless it's tears of laughter.

ETA: FOR THE SECOND POST CREDITS SCENE THAT I MISSED. Stupid Marvel hiding things from me. Thank you, @beelzebufo

Mountains, a mountain lake, a place I’d like to be right now. Wanda sits on the porch of her lonely little cabin. The tea kettle whistles and she goes inside. There’s a rattling and whispering from the other room, where the astral projection(?) of the Scarlet Witch reads the Darkhold and her children call for her. I don’t know, Wanda, seems dicey, that’s not a very nice book.

FOR REAL THE END THIS TIME

#wandavision #wandavision spoilers #wandavision liveblog #long post

34 notes · View notes

dadsbongos · 3 years

Text

Mommy Issues

Movie/Game/Show: Umbrella Academy Dynamic: Five Hargreeves/Reader (Platonic) Warnings: you’re a mom of two, maybe might be sad? Summary: Five has to pay a visit to the old lady. ~~~

“Come on,” she held out the can of beans, shaking it around slightly when the boy refused, “You have to eat, Five.”

He shook his head, continuing to mark up the book in his hands, “Too busy.”

“You’re never too busy to fucking eat,” (Y/n) huffed, grabbing the book from his hands and replacing it with the can of beans, “It’ll all be here when you’re done.”

Five pursed his lips but decided to not argue with the woman, “You’re lucky you’re the only person left in this hellhole.”

“How so?” (Y/n) crossed her arms, desperately attempting to hide her starvation, “I get to take care of a little boy?”

“I’m not a little boy, first of all. I’m thirteen, technically a teenager.”

The woman snickered, “What’s your second point?”

Humming through his chewing, Five quirked a brow, gesturing for her to continue.

“You said ‘first of all’,” she shrugged, reaching for the bottle of wine settled amongst the rubble of an old library, “Did you have a second point to bring up?”

When the boy didn’t respond, (Y/n) quietly laughed before looking at the book Five was so focused on since he found it. Extra Ordinary by Vanya Hargreeves, her brows furrowed as she picked it up and began flipping through it. Five nearly choked on his beans, “Careful with that.”

“I will be,” she calmly replied, tone softening at the shared surname between the two, “Was she your mom?”

Five shook his head, taking the book back, “Sister.”

“I’m sorry you have to go through this,” (Y/n) forced on a smile, reaching into her tattered pants’ pocket, “If it’s any consolation, I lost some people too.”

Just as he went to retort, a picture of two children was forced into his hand. A boy his age and a much younger girl, and suddenly he regretted every time he mockingly called her mom. Her sad smile was still painted on her lips as realization sunk its claws into Five, “Your kids?”

“Yeah,” she murmured, sitting up straight, “I took all the pictures in the house before packing up.”

“Since we’re learning about each other,” he held out Vanya’s book, “I think you should read this.”

(Y/n) nodded, opening up to the first page, “If you want, for whatever weird reason is in your genius brain, you can keep the picture. I have a lot.”

“Thanks,” he pressed the photo into his blazer pocket, “you can’t keep the book. I want that back when you’re done and don’t write in it.”

“Naturally.”

Silence broke over the pair until (Y/n) spoke again, much quieter than before.

“What?”

“Stop zoning out, creeper,” she ruffled his hair.

“Don’t baby me, (Y/n),” the thirteen-year-old boy snapped, still clutching his mannequin companion to his scrawny body.

In response, the woman rolled her eyes, “I’ll baby you all I want, Five, because in case you haven’t noticed, we’re in a wasteland and I’m the only adult alive.”

“So far,” the boy glared, “There could be some lonely Australian man across the ocean and we have no clue.”

She shook her head, “Well until we find him, I’m still going to baby you - because that’s what you are to me. A little baby in need of mothering.”

Five grumbled under his breath, “You’re more annoying than anything else at this point.”

(Y/n) didn’t verbally reply, only pulling up the scarf acting as the boy’s mask before continuing down the road. She turned when Five didn’t follow, nudging her head down the way, “Come on, I think there's a wagon we could find to carry supplies!”

A wagon there was, but only one. At least at that point. The grown woman huffed while looking around, “Put Dolores in, you’re rolling the thing with you.”

“What?” Five looked up at her, “But you’re the adult, aren’t you?”

“Which means I get to tell you to roll it around.”

The wagon would go to him then. The boy.

“What’re you thinking about?”

Five’s brows furrowed as he walked, lugging the dirtied thing behind him, “What are you talking about now, (Y/n)?”

She simply stared at him, a blank, empty stare, “What are you thinking about?”

Her eyes made him nervous now, they were devoid of any kindness and warmth they usually held when looking at him. Less like a loving mother-figure and more like the mannequin he held close at night. But even Dolores smiled every so often.

“Five!” she suddenly shouted, no longer walking. She rushed over, grabbing his shoulders, “Five!”

There were no hands on his shoulders, just the old, wrinkled one between his own hands. He blinked a few times, shaking his head before looking down to the elderly woman on the floor, “Sorry, what were you saying?”

“As spacey as ever,” (Y/n) chuckled dryly, coughing a few times between the laughter, “I asked what you were thinking about.”

“Oh, nothing much,” he lied easily enough, “Just how much I’ll enjoy you not bossing me around.”

The dying woman shook her head, using what little strength she had to smack his arm, “You’ve been a rude little boy since we met.”

“Well,” he shrugged, letting a soft silence fill the heated air, rubbing his thumb over the weathered bones in this old woman’s hand, “What about you? What are you thinking about?”

“My kids,” she smiled faintly, “I’m excited to see them again.”

Little Joan and Lacy, he’d heard about them countless times. Joan was about his age when the pair first met after the Apocalypse, dark hair and light eyes with freckles spread across his cheeks. Lacy was on the younger scale with little curls sprouting from her head and brown eyes like honey pots with a birthmark right on her forehead. Adorable kids, from what few pictures survived the fall of humanity.

“I wish I could’ve met them,” he grinned down at the faint woman.

(Y/n) nodded weakly, eyes fluttering shut every now and again, “You three would’ve been so cute together. Them trying to make you smile and you just being grumpy; like something out of a sitcom.”

Five’s eyebrows rose at the sentence, “Now I’m not so sure.”

“Stop,” she wheezed, patting at her chest, “You would’ve loved them…” it was quiet for a few more moments, “I’m worried about you too, you know? Being all alone after so long, I don’t want you to go completely crazy.”

“I won’t be alone,” he attempted to reassure, nodding towards their plastic friend, “I have Dolores, don’t I?”

“God, don’t get me started on that…”

“I really will be fine,” he gripped her hand a little tighter, “Don’t be worrying about me, I can handle myself, old lady.”

“One day you’ll be an old man, and then who’ll be laughing? Me, from the afterlife.”

Five wouldn’t admit it, but the thought of (Y/n) still being somewhat around comforted him, “I’ll be counting on it.”

“Better be.”

. . .

Five rubbed at his temples, stopping the Apocalypse built up a headache worse than surviving it. He pushed the doors to Griddy’s open, not having had one of their coffees since his first night into the present. He slid onto a stool at the counter, giving Agnes a nod when she waved at him.

Agnes went into the back and after a few murmurs, he assumed a new waitress would be serving him.

Looking to the right, two familiar faces came into view. His eyes widened, hands fumbling for the photo in his blazer pocket. After (Y/n) died he made a habit of keeping it around; felt wrong to go without it. He looked between the picture to the children.

The doors from the back opened up and a painfully familiar woman stepped through. She smiled at two kids, ruffling the boy’s dark hair and pinching at the girl’s cheek before going over to Five.

(Y/n) shot him a grin, pulling a pad of paper from her uniform, “What can I get you today?”

Five didn’t answer immediately, stare fixated on the living, breathing, not-dead woman in front of him. Unlike in their years together, her skin was less dirt-covered, hands less crusted in ash and soil, hair more well-kept. She seemed healthy, happy. After realizing he was staring for far too long, he cleared his throat, pocketing the photo, “Sorry, I’ll have a coffee. Black.”

“No donuts?” she teased, “I know they’re not top-of-the-line, but I never miss an opportunity to snag a few for my kids,” she pointed her pen in the kids’ direction.

“Well, I suppose I could get…” he looked over the menu before continuing, “a lemon jelly donut.”

(Y/n) wrote down the order, “Funny, that’s my son’s favorite.”

“What a coincidence,” of course, he knew that. He knew it fifty times over.

Nodding, she tore off the paper before walking towards the back, stopping at the two kids. The tiny glances from both child in his direction made it obvious he had been mentioned. Giving Joan and Lacy each a kiss on the forehead, (Y/n) made her way to the back kitchen.

Lacy looked between her older brother and the strange boy before getting down from her stool and skipping over to the brunette. She gave him a broad, pearly smile, “Hi.”

Five smiled slightly, turning in his seat to look at the girl properly, “Hello.”

Joan followed after his sister, smiling apologetically to the boy about his age while taking the girl’s hand, “I’m sorry about her.”

“No, she’s fine,” he waved off the other boy’s sympathies, “She's pretty adorable.”

(Y/n) returned from the back, carefully setting down the steaming coffee followed by Five’s donut, “Hope my kids aren’t bothering you. They like making friends with the customers.”

He shook his head, “Not a problem.”

Joan slid onto the stool beside Five, holding his baby sister in his lap, “Haven’t seen you around here before.”

Five nodded slowly, wrapping both hands around his warm cup, already feeling his headache begin to dissipate, “I used to come here a lot when I was younger.”

#tua #The Umbrella Academy #five hargeeves #five hargreeves x reader platonic #just founds out i'm allergic to my face scrub because nobody wanted to tell me it's not normal for my skin to turn red flaky and hurt #pretty t'd off about it ngl

71 notes · View notes

cartoonfangirl1218 · 4 years

Text

Riverdale should have been a Disney show

Riverdale should have been a Disney show. There I said it. I'll admit the first season was fine Great even. Self-contained with an intriguing mystery and you waited at the edge of your seat for what will happen next. But then... Part of the problem for me is because I've read the original comics since I was a girl. I still do get some from my mom, and the way they have changed the characters just bug me.Betty used to be the girl next door, always hopeful, smart, trying to figure out the mystery. And it was perfect that she was a reporter because Betty was always someone who valued honesty so her being the roving reporter was perfect. And her taking pills for anxiety or some sort of disorder was also a nice take because she does take on so much, and tries so hard to help and be good and nice and perfect. All the stress. Archie was also great in the first season. A bit horny, but he means well, and he truly is an average American boy so his big trouble of choosing between music and football. He's a klutz and sometimes his plans go sideways but he means well, he's all for family and Riverdale and school spirit. None of this whole Red Hood/semi mafia/wrestling nonsense. I actually really liked their take on Veronica, she still a bit materialistic and thinks she can depend on her wealth to get her out of trouble but I do like their take on trying to be enterneauripal and working to act less high class society girl as she was used to.

Jughead, I'm conflicted with. Because he's good I guess as a brooding, investigative journalist he's good. It fits the setting of the show. But I do have a soft spot for him as the sane man to Archie. Going about his business, surprisingly philosophical. And you can't forget the most important attribute to him. His love of food! I miss that. Like the one scene in season 1, I forget what exactly but basically he ordered burgers and when Cole Sprouse just protectively held the burger to him...such a nice touch. That sort of guy I can see as a DCOM. The genius ditz I guess it's called. But he's not dumb. He just prefers napping to being awake.

Now the others...omg.I have a bone to pick when it comes to the other characters in Riverdale. Josie and the Pussycats-- they are such lively musicians who solve crimes, sometimes in space. ABsolutely wasted here. Melody barely had any lines. And they didn't have Alex or Alexandra Cabot which was such a shame. I know, I know they're in the new Katy Keene show but having them be step-siblings who used to date is wrong and weird and bad and no! Stop having the twins in these shows with vaguly incesteous feelings. It's weird!

Kevin Keller, all his storylines revolve around his bfs or lack of bfs or how much he wants a bf. The Kevin of Archie comics was so much more well-rounded. He was head of ROTC, he was class president, he ran marathons, he was Veronica's bff, he was a reporter. He had an appetite to match Jughead's. He even had a brief crush on Jughead! He was so much better than this sham. He was confident in who he was and did his best to help others feel good about themselves too because he knows not everyone is lucky to come out as LGTBQ in a supportive environment.

Reggie. I think not giving him enough of an arc in season 1 really backfired because if he appears, it's only as Veronica's arm candy. Which is a shame because he is a good contrast to Archie. A bit richer yet a cheapskate. Thinks he's a casanova, loves being the class prankster. A modern day politician with his sweet words when all he cares about himself. Basically like

Yet he has his hidden depths with his neglectful workaholic parents and jealousy of Archie's popularity. Cheryl. Omg Cheryl. They have ruined you here. I'm sorry, I do NOT find any of her lines iconic. It's like she swallowed urban dictionary and a gothic novel and came out all jumbled in a google translate. She may be abused but the way she still treats others like shit and gaslights her gf and makes everything about her is just...ugh!!! OMg, comics Cheryl is actually fun and iconic. She's as rich and pretty as Veronica and unafraid to use it. She wants to be a star like a modern day influencer. She's a red-haired Sharpay Evans basically.

Also Jason, her twin whom they sadly killed off. He was also fun like a meaner, snobbier version of Reggie. But with a huge crush on Betty which I think could have been used to milk such drama.

Polly also got hit badly. She was a good older sister. She was a reporter, and inspired Betty's enviormental-feminist activities. A sane person. Not a cult worshipping cuckoo. Toni Topaz, ah she was so good in season 2 and then they made her Cheryl's arm candy. Alas. I liked her as a friend to Jughead. In the comics, she was his equal in food contests. That's no small feat. She was cool, and joined Betty's band and... she was her own person. Remember when Toni used to be a photographer for the South Side paper. Yeah. Basically Toni as a 3d character with personality. Please return.

Dilton. Oh Dilton. Once the smartest person in the Archie universe and they turned you into a survival freak to get killed by the gargoyle king. Or whomever. I just remember he got killed somehow. Honestly, they should have stuck to smart Dilton. They need a smart scientist there, cuz no one is using their brains in Riverdale.

Chuck. They have done you SUCH A DISSERVICE! So so bad. Chuck was a good person! He was a cartoonist, and a basketball player and Archie's friend. (Yeah, that's right Archie has friends in the comics. Even though Riverdale makes some effort to show Archie and Jug's bond, they're mainly consorting with their gfs. In the comics, they had guy nights. Reggie, Chuck, Kevin, Dilton, Moose. Come on show. Friendships are just as important.) And what did they do, make him a lying scumbag, turn him good and then have him arrested because of what Cheryl did! No, no no. Bad writers. Just no. Ethel Muggs. You have also been wronged in season 3. Making her a crazy freak. Ethel in season 1 was nice. Ethel in the comics is nice. Plain but with a good heart even though she had a slightly obsessive crush on Jughead. Here, making her cult worshipper.... smdh. Okay at this point I know I sound like a bitter, bitter person complaining how it'S nOt liKE tHe cOmICs. But hey, I admit season 1 was good even if they changed the characters a bit. It’s just that I watched Riverdale because of the property it derived from. Because of the comics. At the least I expected some faithfulness to the characters. Not make them all so inconsistent and crazy.

It's just the writing is so inconsistent! The plots hop around and so do their moods. Bughead and Choni broke up for one episode and then they got right back together. Even though they had VALID reasons to break up. Nope. That made fans mad. So they had to get back together. Ugh. And Archie got attacked by a bear and was so traumatized that he broke up with Veronica because "he's changed" for like two episodes before forgetting about it and going back to Veronica. Oh which brings me to the ridiculous "love triangle" of Archie/Reggie/Veronica where she couldn't choose. Please, Archie and Veronica were reuniting and planning to go run away for a weekend together. Reggie was completely forgotten until he walked in on them. And Veronica couldn't decide because she loves them both? No, she didn't. She may have felt bad to tell Reggie but it's not because she loved him. Forgetting a guy so quickly...yeah great proof of love. Horniness maybe. But her indecisiveness makes her look bad. Don’t tease a will they, won’t they when the answer is so obvious. If you're going to do something like that, you should have there be something called CONSEQUENCES! They can get back together but at least wait. Wait 8 episodes at least so they can have character development. But who am I kidding. Character development is not the goal of this show. The character's just move because the writer's want them too not because it fits their personalities. Such as Archie's grieved reaction for baby Teeth in season 3.

Not only do I have no idea when (the ridiculously named) Baby Teeth appeared, much less why Archie or I should care about his death. But sometimes the show juggles too much. Too many characters. Too many plots. It's all so ugh!!! So my final thought on this is... Riverdale should have been a disney channel sitcom. Archie comics are about family friendly entertainment and sometimes imparted lessons... well so does Disney. I get the appeal of having Riverdale reach a new teen generation, but from what I can see the only big thing Riverdale on CW is that it allows alcohol and gartituous sex scenes.

Which is another small gripe of mine. I can handle sex scenes (hello Magic Mike XXL) but so many at such inappropriate moments too It's like that scene in an action movie where they suddenly kiss when they should be running for their lives. No teen is that horny all the time. Plus there's always less is more. If one kisses so much it loses the meaning. If you think your shirtless Archie is going to distract me from lack of plot haha. No. Plot and consistency still sucks and shirtless Archie does not make it better.

But Riverdale as a Disney show can work. After all the comic stories are a bit formulaic. It's all high school hijinks. And all the characters fit an archetype. Archie, the protagonist. Veronica, the fashionista. Betty, the reporter. Jughead, the slacker. Reggie, the class clown/bad friend. Cheryl, the Sharpay, Kevin, the sane one. And if people want a season long story arc with dramatics, Disney can actually handle it too. After all they had the mysterious "threat' lurking in the background of My babysitter's a vampire season 2. Or the Juliet and Mason saga of Wizards of Waverly Place. And if people want adult situations, look on to Jessie. Rewatching an episode now, there were so many adult jokes and references that flew over my head so they could sneak those in. Heck, Disney channel is infamous for all the innuendos they manage. And they handle consistency. Cody and Bailey broke up in Suite life on deck, they actually stayed broken up for a good half season. Gabe matured from a prankster tween to teen in love in Good Luck Charlie. Actions have consequences, characters grow. Storytelling 101

And the best part is they don't even have to think too hard for the plots of the week. They literally can build on stories from the comics. All 80 years of it. And I have put some examples right here from my own Archie comics. Like Veronica literally being the fashion police.

Veronica and Cheryl teaming up + rolling around in their money.

Cheryl changing the Cherry Blossom Festival to the Cheryl Blossom Festival

Archie doing his classic Valentine's Day mix up

Veronica and Betty buy Cheryl’s maid service when her father forces her to get a job.

Jughead and Trula (Jughead's nemesis & psychoanalyst in training) get amnesia and become friends.

A boy dares to change Veronica

Jughead falls in love with the lunch-lady

Betty and Veronica pretending to be distressed damsels to get Archie's attention (it backfires)

Toni and Jughead foil each other in a food eating contest.

Betty's cast causes more pain to other students

Reggie dates Cheryl (for real)

Reggie helps Kevin dress for the dance and his mystery date

Riverdale Shore.

Cabot vs Lodge

I think all this pretty much illustrates my point. Archie comics equals Disney sitcom all by itself.

#Anti Riverdale #my opinions #random musings #salty rant #archie comics

21 notes · View notes

yakocchi · 4 years

Photo

Be My Princess Social // Yakov Chernenkov, Season 1, Episode 1

// The Great Prince of the Country of Ice

o wats this, self-indulgent crap?? haha the joke is that all the translations i post are self-indulgent crap, thank you for coming to the press conference

This is going to be part of a translation of the Yakov Chernenkov route for the Be My Princess Social Platforms (GREE, Joshige, Eternal Kiss, etc.)

I figured this should be… relatively all right given that it seems like Voltage is done with BMP Social games forever in terms having English versions. tbh kinda surprised no one ever took the task of doing it. publicly at least? i searched a bit, found nothing. if someone already did it pls tell me lol …..but i guess something like this is a stan’s job to do, right (ﾟ▽ﾟ*)

idk, we’ll see how this goes… only did 1 ep as a test run to see if i feel like doing this rn lol this is lengthy endeavor

Image-heavy!! Please credit if you take any of it, thenk u (･ω･*)

Intro & Legend

This route is similar to Zain’s in that they wipe just about everything from the Paid version (the one with Sergei and the Anastasia backstory…lol that was wild thinking abt it) and start anew with the character. But Yakov is different from all the other BMP1 characters in that they also changed his personality almost completely. This is reflected in his profile when they change his blood type and age from the Paid version (B → O, 25 → 31)

If you’re familiar with the Social Zain route, you can kinda see through his bits how they changed him. A BMP fansite master describes him as “high-handed, but charismatic - a person with the character of a king” which sums it up better than anything I could ever think up

So I guess it would be a good idea to not carry over expectations from the Paid app route to this route because that’s just a recipe for disappointment lol. i know a lot of people like the Yakov from the Paid route, so I wanted to put that out there. It’s a shame bc that character is effectively “gone” but… the yakov i stan is the social one, so if that had to happen so my 2d man could come into existence…well…

thank u for ur sacrifice

➤ are my own commentary.

➢ are the choices that pop up. For the most part I have both (iirc I don’t have one near the end bc I forgot I was trying to pick the wrong ones on purpose lol). Note that all my wrong answers are from the original version’s text and thus they may have been changed for EK. Correct answers are labeled with ❆

➼ at the end of a line signals that the choice text has “ended” and it returns back to the general text. The general text resumes on the line that begins with a ➼. This is mostly just for organization on my part - the docs I type+format these on get very, very annoying to scroll through, so

Bolded dialogue reflect the screencaps.

I hope you enjoy some part of it! ( ´◡` ) Thanks for reading

Episode 1 // The Great Prince of the Country of Ice

➤ Interestingly, the original title they used for GREE and Joshige is The Cold, Rational Prince of Sanct Sybil Kingdom. I dunno why they would change it except maybe it was too long for the title card to look pretty lol

When I opened the door at the sound of the chime, there stood a man wearing a gentle smile on his face. Taking note of my presence, he places his hand to his breast and gracefully bows.

[Zain]: “You must be Miss Kara Go. I am Zain, the personal steward of Nobel Michel Castle.” [Zain]: “As promised, I have come to pick you up.” [Kara]: “Y-Yes. I am indeed Kara Go.” [Kara]: “To go out of your way to come here - thank you so much.” (Am I really… not just dreaming here?) Pulling a letter out from my pocket, I recall the events over the past few days that had led up to today.

I had torn the seal of a blank-white envelope that had no written return address, and my eyes widened in shock. “I want you to become an exclusive designer.” In the enclosed message - along with a bit of contact information, the end of the letter had been signed by Nobel the XIII, the lord of Nobel Michel Castle. (This must be some sort of mistake… A-Anyhow, I should try to verify it.) Thinking that, I call the contact number on the letter…

But, indeed - the letter was not a mistake, and they spoke to me about wanting to have a proper consultation about the position. I was told that Lord Nobel wanted some time to talk in-person with me, and eventually the promised day where I felt that my dreams were coming over the horizon… finally came. (Even when it’s finally here, in front of me of like this, I still can’t believe it…) [Zain]: “Thus, His Grace awaits. Let us depart.” [Kara]: “O-Okay…” With a spring to my step, I get onto the limousine with Zain.

(It would’ve never crossed my mind that I’d be going to Nobel Michel Castle for a second time.) (And on top of that, I’ve been called here in terms of being a designer of all things…) I was pretty nervous the time I had come here for Jean Pierre’s errand, but now I’m even more nervous compared to that day. I felt my heart noisily thumping as I waited for Lord Nobel, and eventually the parlor door opened.

[Zain]: “My Lady, we must deeply apologize.” [Zain]: “His Grace’s conference is going longer than expected, so it seems you will have to wait a few moments longer.” [Kara]: “I see…” [Zain]: “Since you took your most valued time to come here― Would you like to take a look around the castle gardens until the conference is over?” [Kara]: “Castle gardens… you say?” [Zain]: “Indeed. Several varieties of the rare flowers we raise are currently in bloom– so if it pleases you, I can guide you around.” (You don’t get the chance to tour the Nobel Castle gardens everyday.) [Kara]: “Then, if you may.” [Zain]: “Very well. Shall we go now?” With Zain as my guide, I get to visit the castle gardens.

[Kara]: “Wow… it’s absolutely stunning.” [Zain]: “Thank you. Everyone who visits these gardens tend to voice similar sentiments about it.” The courtyard stretched over a vast space, and it was a feast for the eyes even with a simple glance. (In a way, it’s as if I’ve been sucked into a fairy tale.) As Zain explained the parts and features within it, I was completely enamored by the beautiful garden― When an teenage boy clad in a butler’s uniform comes running to us from the castle.

[???]: “Zain! So this is where you were.” [Zain]: “…Theo, you are before a guest.” [Zain]: “I must apologize, My Lady.” [Zain]: “This is Theo, who is training in this castle as an apprentice steward.” The boy called Theo – at being scolded by Zain, straightened his posture accordingly.

➤ i can’t believe bmp2 stans denied us from having the wacky family sitcom a theo route would have smh my head bro

[Theo]: “…I am Theo.” [Kara]: “I’m Kara. Nice to meet you, Theo.” [Theo]: “M-Mhm…” Theo, whose face still held remnants of childlike youth, averted his eyes shyly. Then Zain, who had witnessed all of this, lightly presses the boy in a gentle tone. [Zain]: “Theo, did you have any matters to discuss with me?” [Theo]: “Ah-, right! I was sent by His Grace to relay this message to you.” [Theo]: “He urgently wants your input on something, so you gotta come to the conference room.” [Zain]: “His Grace does?” [Zain]: “But, right now…” His eyebrows knit together, as if troubled. With a smile I turn to him. [Kara]: “I’ll be all right by myself. Though while I wait, may I take a look around the garden?” [Zain]: “Yes, of course.” [Zain]: “I apologize for being unable to guide you around myself for now– but if you could meet with me afterwards…” [Zain]: “Can you wait just a moment?” [Kara]: “All right.” Sounding apologetic in his words, he then goes with Theo towards the castle. (Being the exclusive butler to Lord Nobel must be quite the busy job…) I thought about that as I took a stroll around the calm gardens, sunlight beaming… When―

[Man]: “Please, at least, once more– Please consider thinking about it…!” The cries of a man at his wits’ end cut through the silence of the courtyard. (Is something going on…?) Looking in the direction of the voice, I find three men standing from the other side of the building. The shouting from earlier seems to have come from a man who looked slightly older from other two, and said man also seemed to be desperately calling for something. [Man]: “…The state of the administration right now still is unstable.” [Man]: “If we act too carelessly, the balance of the three nations could collapse once more!” [???]: “…I have long past made a decision.” The words that had answered the aggravated man were bound to a terribly icy voice. As this man stood with his back facing me, I was unable to see his face; but from pitch alone he seemed to be a young man. With his long, platinum-blond hair having been pleated into a single braid, he silently rebuffs the rage of the older one.

[???]: “Even if you did indeed manage to chase me all the way here― Decisions are not something to turn back from.” [???]: “That is all that need be said, so I shall leave first.” [Man]: “…Yakov–Sir, why are you this impatient?!” [Man]: “It can't be that you don’t realize that now is a crucial time for the country, is it…?!” In pure exasperation, the older man grabs onto the man called Yakov. But in doing so, a man in a butler’s uniform that had stood across from him swiftly yanks the man off.

[Butler]: “What are you thinking in that head of yours, grabbing onto someone of his (Yakov’s) status?” [Butler]: “Even if you get imprisoned for disrespecting the state, this is an inexcusable situation you’ve found yourself in.”

➤ so the term he uses is specifically for lèse-majesté, which is the fancy term for insulting the ruling sovereign, monarchy, ruling state, etc. etc. but i didn’t want to just throw in that term bc i felt like it’s not… very common? idk i feel like the bmp mc wouldn’t know what that is granted i guess you could do the galaxy brain take and be like “she doesn’t know what that term is and that’s why she couldn’t piece together that yakov is royalty”

[Man]: “Urgh…!” The older man was then pinned to the ground, and as his arms were confined behind his back, he groans in pain. The moment I see the expression on his face, a cry spills out from my lips.

[Kara]: “Ah…!” [Yakov]: “…!” Hearing my voice, the platinum-blond man whips his head around.

His eyes, peeking out from behind his long bangs and deep blue like the sea, then sharply leveled at me. [Yakov]: “…What is your business?” [Kara]: “Uh…”

(What should I answer with?) Menacingly asked to speak, I…

➢ I’m unable to say anything. ➢ “He’s in pain.” ❆

➢ I’m unable to say anything. (This person… has an awfully intimidating air to him.) Unable to say anything particularly impactful, I only turn my eyes to the man held to the ground. ➼

➢ “He’s in pain.” [Kara]: “I don’t know what’s going on here, but you’ve gone too far… He’s in pain.” [Yuri]: “Of course. It’s only natural for it to hurt when you’re bound down like this.” The man in the butler’s uniform answers me with a smile plastered on his face. (What the-… He’s smiling, but it’s honestly quite frightening-) [Kara]: “B-But… if you end up injuring him, that’d be terrible, no…?!” While paralyzed with fear, I managed to raise my voice at him. ➼

➼ With that, the platinum-blond man shifts his eyes to the man in the butler’s uniform. [Yakov]: “―Yuri, release him.” [Yuri]: “…” At his words, the one called Yuri immediately relinquishes his hold.

➤ Yuri’s name might actually be Urey, as one of Ivan’s Birthday Event routes note how Ivan’s wolf Urey and butler Yuri have the same name (by coincidence). But the JPN version always spells it as Yuri so I’m just used to it. Not that you should really be taking the app’s romanization as official though given they have stuff like “Lewis” (Louis), “Jean” (Jan), and the occasional “Robert” for Roberto ( ´_ゝ｀)

As the older man staggers back up from the ground, the blond man speaks to the two of them. [Yakov]: “Do not start trouble in the castle grounds of other kingdoms.” [Yakov]: “ ―Regarding what happened here today, I shall overlook it this time. Good?” [Yuri]: “Understood.” [Man]: “…My sincere apologies.” As the two men lower their heads, the man called Yakov then directs his piercing gaze towards me.

[Yakov]: “Forget what you just saw and heard here. Not a word to anyone.” With only those words to me, he leaves with the other two following behind him. (That “Yakov” person, and “Yuri” too… what terrifying people.) Alone in the garden, I was completely petrified to the spot from the overwhelming pressure those men had left me with.

[Theo]: “―Miss Kara, here is where His Grace’s been hanging o– awaiting your presence, rather.” Afterwards, Lord Nobel’s conference had ended and Theo had come to take me to him. While heading to the parlor where His Grace was waiting, Theo’s innocent self causes a smile to crack my features. [Kara]: “Just ‘Kara’ is fine, Theo. On that note, you don’t have to speak so formally with me.” [Theo]: “Uh- But…” [Kara]: “I’ll be more at ease and less nervous that way.” [Kara]: “Besides, I’m in a similar situation as you.” [Theo]: “‘Similar’?” [Kara]: “I’m only a rookie designer.” [Kara]: “So like how you’re an apprentice butler, it’s kind of a similar position.” [Theo]: “Gotcha…” At my explanation, Theo, apparently happy about some part of it, breaks into a smile. [Theo]: “…I get you. Then- When we’re together like this, I’ll be sure to do it.” [Theo]: “Since only super-distinguished people ever come to this castle, I get pretty stressed out.” [Kara]: “Hehe, I’m feeling the same too. Just entering this castle makes me anxious.”

[Theo]: “Right?! Lord Nobel and Zain treat me really well so it’s all right for now, but…” Theo wore a smile that was quite fitting for a young boy like himself. Calmed by his pure sincerity, I enter the reception room.

[Theo]: “…Your Grace, I have brought Miss Kara Go.” [Nobel]: “Thank you for your hard work.” [Nobel]: “Kara, sorry for making you have to wait on me when I was the one who called you up here.” Lord Nobel wears a merry smile on his face as he kindly welcomes me. I bow my head down in gratitude. [Kara]: “I am, indeed, Kara Go.” [Kara]: “Thank you for inviting me to such a meeting.” [Nobel]: “You don’t have to greet me so formally,” [Nobel]: “as the truth still stands that I was the one who summoned you today. I just wanted to talk with ya about something.” [Nobel]: “―So, Kara, do you know of the country of Sanct Sybil?” [Kara]: “Yes. I’m only knowledgeable with news and info that’s been reported to the public, but…”

Sanctis, Sybil, Versurk― Those three countries had united into one, and the resulting nation is apparently called “Sanct Sybil” from what I’ve heard. With this as my sole knowledge of the country, Lord Nobel speeds up the conversation.

[Nobel]: “Then I’ll cut to the chase.” [Nobel]: “The truth is that Sanct Sybil is planning to join the Nobel Michel Alliance.” [Nobel]: “As they’re still a new nation, they’re searching for talent both inside and outside the country.” [Nobel]: “In pursuit of capable individuals, the prince of Sanct Sybil has come to me for some guidance, so…” Cutting his own words short, a smile then markedly graces his features.

[Nobel]: “Kara, you are to be the exclusive designer of Sanct Sybil Castle.” [Nobel]: “I thought that I’d like to go see you work there.” [Kara]: “Uh-…” (I’m… going to be the exclusive designer… for a royal castle?!)

[Nobel]: “Besides yourself, I’ve been in talks with other talented folks in all sorts of industries.” [Nobel]: “It’s only the designer position that’s yet to be decided.” [Nobel]: “I personally wanted to recommend you, but… what do you think?” [Kara]: “Um… I’m truly grateful to be able to have this conversation with you, but…” [Kara]: “Since I’m still new to this, I don’t have any achievements to show for anything.” [Kara]: “Knowing that, why did you call on me for this…?” I can’t hide my own utter confusion from his sudden invitation. Voicing my bewildered thoughts with that question, the corners of his lips quirk up into a smile.

[Nobel]: “I learned about you through a list I asked from Jean Pierre.” Lord Nobel, upon consulting with the prince of Sanct Sybil, requested Jean Pierre to produce a list of designers with promising futures. (Jean Pierre himself put me on that list…) [Nobel]: “Certainly, you don’t have any prior accolades… but within the multitude of applicants, I saw your design sketches,” [Nobel]: “and I was considerably charmed by them.” [Nobel]: “I grew delighted just from simply looking at that design.” [Nobel]: “And for that reason I wish to bring you to Sanct Sybil, a nation newly born into this world.” [Nobel]: “I think that a person full of zeal like yourself is necessary for such a place.” [Kara]: “Your Grace…” [Nobel]: “By all means, please consider it for me.” (I’m simply unworthy to be having this sort of discussion…)

At Lord Nobel’s invitation, I…

➢ “Give me some time.” ❆ ➢ “If it is all right with the other party…”

➢ "Give me some time.” Having heard all of this from Lord Nobel so far, the feeling of wanting to give it a shot comes to me. (But…) [Kara]: “…Could you give me a bit of time to think about it?” [Nobel]: ”Of course. You should go ponder it a great deal before coming to a decision.” ➼

➢ “If it is all right with the other party…” [Kara]: “If it is all right with the other party, I feel that I would like to accept this offer.” [Kara]: “However…” There’s an uneasy feeling in my heart about it, and my words drift off. Then Lord Nobel, as if he understood my thoughts nods his head once. [Nobel]: “It’s all right if you don’t rush yourself to a decision.” ➼

➼ [Nobel]: “Can you give Zain an answer a few days from now?” [Kara]: “Understood.” Putting my answer on hold for a moment, I depart Nobel Castle.

(The chance to be the exclusive designer for a royal castle won’t ever come by me again, but…) (While Jean Pierre is having a hard time, I can’t just leave him like this.) Turning down the offer to be dropped off at my apartment, I head towards the office of Jean Pierre.

[Jean Pierre]: “Oh my, is that ma petite?” [Kara]: “Pierre!” Not expecting to meet him like this, I’m surprised to see him here. As if he had sensed something about me, he smiles.

[Jean Pierre]: “…With a face like that, looks like you got something to talk about, hmm?” [Jean Pierre]: “Instead of standing around outside to chat, please just come on in.”

Pierre unlocks the door to his office and I come inside. [Jean Pierre]: “You somehow came all the way here… Could it be that you had talked with Lord Nobel?” [Kara]: “…Yes.” [Kara]: “I received an invitation to work as the exclusive designer of Sanct Sybil Castle.” [Kara]: “But for someone like me, who has no experience nor achievements, to take up such a grand job is…” [Kara]: “I don’t really have the confidence that I can do something like that.” [Kara]: “And on top of that, I want to be further taught by you…”

[Jean Pierre]: “What are you saying?! Is this not a good thing? This is your big chance!” He looks at me with a serious expression. [Jean Pierre]: “In that list I submitted to Lord Nobel, there were also designers that had prior achievements.” [Jean Pierre]: “Despite that, I was convinced that you would be the one to be chosen.” [Kara]: “Why… is that?” [Jean Pierre]: “From your designs, I feel this power to them.” [Jean Pierre]: “There are some parts that are rough around the edges, but there’s this energy, one that can completely transform people, hidden within!” [Jean Pierre]: “Lord Nobel definitely sensed that too, I bet.” [Kara]: “Ah…” (Thinking about it, Lord Nobel did say something along those lines…) (He said that the designs- from simply looking at them, he grew delighted…)

[Jean Pierre]: “Please believe in yourself.” [Jean Pierre]: “I, as well as His Grace, would never recommend someone who we’d feel couldn’t do the job.” [Jean Pierre]: “I believe in your potential, ma petite.” [Kara]: “Pierre…” Even though he himself is in a difficult position, he’s so firmly supporting me in this. With my heart overwhelmed with such emotion that I couldn’t speak, Jean Pierre smiles. [Jean Pierre]: “I’m also going to use this moment as a source of encouragement for myself, as I plan to work hard as a designer once more.” [Jean Pierre]: “One day, no doubt in my mind― the offices of Jean Pierre will be restored!” [Jean Pierre]: “And that’s why, ma petite… without worrying about these offices, please just go and try what you want to try.” [Kara]: “…Thank you!” (I can’t let this chance from Jean Pierre and Lord Nobel just pass me by.) Urged on by Jean Pierre, a smile appears on my face as my chest is enveloped in this determination.

―That night. Resolute in accepting the offer of exclusive designer, I contact Zain as soon as I return to the apartment. [Kara]: “Concerning the aforementioned position of Sanct Sybil’s designer… I think that I will accept the invitation.” [Zain]: “Thank you very much. I think that His Grace will be quite pleased to hear that.” In a soft tone - As if thinking for a moment, Zain continues to speak. [Zain]: “If I can be honest with you, the prince of Sanct Sybil himself is actually coming to stay at the castle for official business.” [Zain]: “Normally, we would hold your interview over at Sanct Sybil, but…” [Zain]: “Since the prince will be coming over, how about you two introduce each other here at Nobel Castle instead?” (Is that so?) (Even if Lord Nobel is recommending me, it could become a situation where the prince of Sanct Sybil is not too impressed by me.) [Kara]: “I see… If you could reserve some time for that, that’d be great.” [Zain]: “Then, I shall make the proper arrangements and contact you again.” And with that, it was decided that I would meet the prince of Sanct Sybil.

A few days later―

I’ve been called to Nobel Castle once more. While having a spot of tea with Lord Nobel and Theo, I bow my head again. [Kara]: “―Thank you for granting me an opportunity like this.” [Nobel]: “Ohohoho.” [Nobel]: “At any rate.. you’ve become quite resolute about this.” [Kara]: “…Yes. Your Grace has given me words of immense appreciation, and Jean Pierre has also encouraged me.” [Kara]: “I think, as a designer, I want to take advantage of these chances given to me.” (But… with no achievements of my own, I wonder if the Prince will approve of me…) Anxiety running through my heart, Lord Nobel smiles while stroking his beard. [Nobel]: “I also have hopes for you, Miss Kara.” [Nobel]: “I believe that, surely, the prince of Sanct Sybil will indeed require your power.” [Kara]: “Thank you…!” When I beam at Lord Nobel’s kind words, Theo then cuts into the conversation.

[Theo]: “So Kara… really is a designer, huh.”

[Theo]: “But… if it were possible, I was hoping that you’d become the designer for this castle.” [Kara]: “Hehe, thank you.” [Kara]: “I think that I definitely wouldn’t be able to be the designer for Nobel Michel, but I hope one day I’ll be able to make clothes for you, Theo.” Replying to Theo with a smile, Lord Nobel watches us with a gentle look on face. [Nobel]: “Ho ho, looks like you two have become quite close.” [Nobel]: “As I thought, Kara, you seem to have this charm that just mellows out everything around you.” He laughed heartily when there came a knock on the door. [Zain]: “Please excuse the interruption,”

[Zain]: “For I have brought Prince Yakov of Sanct Sybil.”

➤ “op are u just making excuses to post caps of zain as much as possible” perhaps PERHAPS if im gonna need to break down the blobs of text, zain is nice to look at

(Ah…) I get up from my chair, and face the doorway nervously. But at the next moment, my eyes instinctively open wide. (That, person…) The figures that followed behind Zain were two men I was familiar with―

The platinum-blond man with the air of intimidating beauty, and the man in the butler uniform who had worn a smile on his face―

The people I had witnessed in the courtyard days before.

[Prince Yakov]: “―As I have heard that you have found a candidate for the designer position, I have come.” [Prince Yakov]: “Your Grace, I give you my humble gratitude for granting my request.” [Kara]: “Eh…” [Prince Yakov]: “…” I inadvertently let out a small cry of surprise, and the Prince finally meets my eyes. For a split second his eyes had widened, but almost immediately after it shifts into a sharp gaze. (A person like him is the prince of Sanct Sybil, of all things…)

Steeped in the shocking reality of it all, I stare dumbfounded at Prince Yakov―

➤ now part of me was thinking, do people really need all the screencaps of when he makes the -_- face but honestly him doing the -_- face for half of his portraits on this route is part of the experience

To be continued…

(Letter)

➤ so uh this might be a crapshoot in terms of placement bc there’s diff letters based on the special story you choose, and also i forget where the last few letters go loool but that won’t be a problem until later

From: Yakov Title: (untitled)

…So you are the designer recommended by Lord Nobel? If you come to my country, you will be treated to the finest hospitality. Therefore you should not ponder over unnecessary matters and just bring yourself here. Good?

―Yakov

holy fucc idk why this is more tiring to translate than other stuff. maybe bc this is a slow route where we have exposition and non-romantic chara development we have to tread thru first. also lol translating the bmp writers’ style seems like more work? vs stuff like cybird? idk it’s hard to explain. i’m not a super big fan of what i have rn…. in fact i’m like wtf what is this incomprehensible garbage i made... but i’m too tired to do revisions rn…… aye… but i’ll definitely look over it again in attempt to give it more clarity+readability so yea. there’s nothing’s “wrong” in terms of the literal meaning per se - it’s more like i’d like to make it flow better and actually follow grammar rules instead of cheating with dashes and line breaks hahaaa

anyway guess ill see u at the next part when (if?) i bother to do it. hrmmm i should try to make the chunks larger given that this story is 15 eps + 3 special stories (with ~3 variations for each story) + epilogue but fuuu ill get there when i get there

Next Episode…

“If you wish to hear of my tastes - you will have to ask me in a more alluring voice.”

yea thats rite im hitting u with the azn drama cliffhanger. well now i have to do this translation or else this would be mean….. this is a psychological effort to get me to not leave this unfinished

Again, thanks for reading!

#be my princess #yakov chernenkov #bmpYCS1 #yea thatll be my tag for this shit so feel free to block it #bmp

35 notes · View notes

nat-roman0ff · 5 years

Text

favourite ex

favourite ex you were my no sleep, cried for weeks, favourite ex

an angsty little thing loosely based off favourite ex by maisie peters

words: 1,482

There’s an eerie quiet in your apartment tonight. You can still hear the cars pass by, the wind rustle through the leaves on the trees, your neighbor’s tv blaring their fourth marathoned episode of Jeopardy. You keep track of the half hour based on the theme song. It seems every time you blink it plays again.

It’s a lonely kind of silence, of being stuck between all the sounds in the world. Trying to find a place or purpose, caught in a wind tunnel of life all around. Things and people are existing and then there’s you, bottled up and shut in. The lonely silence sits like a low bearing fog in your apartment, a tomb of sorts.

The lonely is you.

You curl into yourself a little more. Missing him, missing yourself, missing what was. You couldn’t remember what you were watching, nothing but a stream of lights and colors shine across the screen and you can’t seem to make any sense of any of it. Your brain is too full, too fucking sad to follow along.

It had been a month to the day since the two of you broke up. It had been mutual, and something that was a long time coming and needed to happen for the sanity of you both. But it wasn’t without love.

There had been no epic fight. No knuckle dragging, teeth bearing screaming match; the end all be all of fights. No, it was one of you finally being brave enough to say “this isn’t working anymore”.

It had been you to start the conversation, Shawn was always too much of a passive person to begin such a thing. And he loved you too much to lose you like that, but agreed between busy schedules, fleeting time and constant attention that the cons were starting to outweigh the pros.

“Maybe in a few years, when things have calmed down,” he’d said with tears in his eyes.

You hated the color of his eyes when he cried. It made them look darker, and not in the way you loved - but a muddy, wet darkness that brought nothing good along with it.

“Maybe,” was all you could manage to him.

The studio audience on the sitcom awwwws, the couple kiss, and you feel that knife twist again in your stomach.

It hadn’t always been sunshine and butterflies with Shawn. You had fights that left you shaking so hard from the tears you thought you’d never catch your breath again and spent countless nights crying yourself to sleep. But for every one fight, a dozen beautiful happy moments existed in your memory.

Because that’s all they were now; memories.

Happy little moments, replaying over and over behind your lids every time you closed your eyes. Being awake made it easier to forget about him. You could drown yourself in something else but the second your eyes shut, the only thing that played was him.

You had both agreed it was best not to speak for a little while. You both needed time to heal, and that couldn’t be done while being in contact. It was hard at first, not getting a good morning text, or calling him when you got home from work to catch up on your days. The sudden pull away felt like when the air sucks out from your chest as a roller coaster drops, just a hollow, empty, nothing.

Over and over again.

The hardest part was not being able to blame the breakup on anything in particular. There was no cheating, no third party, no fight, no trust broken or lies or anything else that breaks up a relationship. Time was wilting around the both of you and as the last few sand particles of time ran up in your hourglass you knew you were loving on borrowed time.

It takes you a while to realize the knocking isn’t in your head but at your front door. You move, not remembering the last time you did so, from the couch and stand on wobbly legs. Head dizzy from the lack of food and water (did you eat today or Tuesday?), you tiptoe softly against the cold hard floor.

“Who is it?” You ask, your voice so hoarse you barely recognize it yourself.

There’s a sniff and then a pause, “it’s me.”

Shawn.

You answer by opening the door and he looks at you, eyes sunken in and red, with deep purple bags below them that match yours. His hair is a mess of long curls, longer than you remember them and his face is thinner too. The whole of him looks empty, like the sunlight had been burned out of him. There was no light in his eyes, only that deep dark mud that you hated so much.

“I miss you.”

He’s the first one to say it, say anything. And you stumble back but he takes it as an invitation to come into the apartment and shuts the door behind him. You can’t think of how to react - you’ve felt the tide of emotions rolling in and out on a day to day basis since he left and now the waves are crashing and you just can’t fucking speak.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Shawn says, “just, I needed to see you. I needed to know you were okay.”

“I’m not.” You croak.

A whisper of a smile creeps up onto his lips but as soon as it arrives it’s gone and replaced with a deep frown, “yeah, me either.”

The laugh track sounds from the tv like a sick joke and the more you look at Shawn the more skeletal he looks as the light reflects the hollows of his cheeks, and it shatters your heart a hundred times over again to see emotions affect him physically. Once a strong, glowing and warm man is now a cold and fragile shell.

“Why did we break up?” He asks, his voice a little higher than normal and you know it’s because he’s holding back from crying.

“Because Shawn -”

“Because what!” He’s louder now, angry almost, “because what? Because there’s someone else? Because you were bored of me? Because I wasn’t good enough?”

You clench your fingers into fists, letting the sharp of your nails pierce your palms, “we both agreed it was for the best.”

There’s tears in his eyes now, “it was for the best. At least that’s what I thought. Now I haven’t been with you for a month and I - I don’t even know how to function. I can’t eat or sleep or perform or write or do anything. I’m too fucking sad to get out of bed half the time and I can’t figure out why this was for the better.”

You look up at his tear streaked face, stumbling on words when he speaks again.

“Just tell me anything. Tell me you fucking hate me. Tell me you hate my career and the traveling and the girls -” he trails off, his face looking increasingly angry as the tears continue to pour over, “let me hate you! Anything! Please!” He yells, pacing the short length of the living room to gain his composure before looking back to you from across the room, “please?”

It’s barely a whisper when he says it and you shake your head no.

“I can’t do that, Shawn. I won’t do that.”

He lets out a choking sob, and wipes up his pinkened blotchy face with his sleeves, “then how else am I supposed to get over you?”

You shrug, “I don’t have that answer for you.”

Your own share of tears are running down now and all you want him to do is hold you, so you open your arms like you always did when you wanted him to and the first glimmer of hope you’ve seen since he walked in the door washes over his face. You nod in permission and he crosses the room quickly in large paces to wrap you up in his arms.

Lifting you up off the floor, you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you to the bedroom. He drops you slowly, gently, onto the bed before laying down beside you.

The two of you look at each other, face to face. So many nights spent like this under happier circumstances with fuller people and peaceful hearts. He wipes away as many tears as he can manage with his fingertips and you lay together without words or actions.

It’s the first time you’ve been able to close your eyes and not think of anything. A warmth of familiarity washes over you and you take the first deep breath you’ve been able to manage for a while.

“Stay?” You ask.

You open your eyes to see Shawn crying again, silent tears streaming down his face, “always,” he sniffs, “always for you.”

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes fic

243 notes · View notes

bigskydreaming · 4 years

Text

Tagged by @hood-ex to post the last line I wrote from a WIP. I didn’t do that, obviously. I mean, I started to do that, I did do that, but then once I’d typed it in here I kept going and writing the rest of that scene, which was very much not the point of that tag game but hahahahaha what are rules even.

From a fic about Ric, Jason and Cassandra, called “The Dead Don’t Live Here Anymore:”

Still buzzing with more energy than he knew what to do with, Ric finally paused long enough to survey the tempest tossed aftermath of the fight’s chaotic seas. He wiped a slightly bruised hand across his face, mopping up a dab of blood as he did so. The bodies of prone and groaning men were scattered across the floor, making a chain of island outcroppings amid the flotsam and jetsam of broken barstools and shattered pool cues. The air stank of sweat, blood and violence, garnished with the citrus scents of spilled (and wasted) tequila. His tongue probed experimentally along the side of his mouth. He might have chipped a tooth. Damn.

Still perched atop the bar counter in the same position in which she’d weathered the entire fight - seriously, from the glimpses he’d caught in his peripheral vision, Ric was pretty sure she hadn’t budged the entire time - Cassandra finished off the last of her nachos and licked her fingers clean.

“Are you two done bonding yet?” His alleged sister asked without even a glance in their direction. Both decidedly unbothered and distinctly unimpressed, all at once and without needing so much as a word to express that. She wore her disdain like a jacket layered over her tank top; nothing in her posture or facial expression conveyed it explicitly, but it was very much there all the same.

Now there was a skill with multiple applications. He was kinda jealous, not gonna lie.

“Eh, I could go for more. It’s not even ten o’clock yet,” Jason said somewhat absently. The majority of his attention - and his scowl - stayed focused on the ragged hole evident in his leather jacket as he held it up for inspection. It was actually more of a pout, Ric decided. He smothered a snort. The guy took a shard of broken beer bottle in the arm without rating it even worth a look, but one more scar added to his battle-worn coat, and he was having an honest-to-God sulk.

Not that Ric was judging or anything. He definitely got the combination of emotional attachment and very few possessions with which to be attached. Honestly, it was more just....a swift surge of humor rising up from one of the locked and unlit rooms deep inside him, the ones still waiting for the return of a tenant who was very much not him. He’d done his best to stay away from those halls. Squashing the curiosity that every now and then urged him to wander those corridors, citing arguments that he had just as much a right to walk them as anyone. And maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. It always ended up feeling like rummaging through a dead stranger’s clothes either way.

But this was one of those times where it wasn’t like he’d gone looking through another man’s belongings, because he didn’t have to. The laughter that bubbled up at the sight of the tall and daunting other man wearing an extremely young-looking and put upon expression.....it came spilling out one of those dusty, locked away rooms all on its own, unprompted, no trespassing required. The rush of affection it gathered from the mental hallways it raced through and navigated far better than he himself did, the jokes, the teasing that somehow were all waiting right there on the tip of his tongue...it was all as familiar as it was unnerving. It was all unnerving because of how familiar it was.

Ric had never had a younger brother, younger siblings - well, not that he remembered, obviously - but he didn’t need a guidebook to know this moment, this second right here was what it felt like to have them. It would be so easy, then and there, to just grab onto the tail end of that laughter as it rushed by. Ride it to the surface, out into the open, let it fly free and claim the credit in its wake, just enjoy whatever came after it....

But he bit his tongue at the last possible second, swallowed it all down and shoved all that back away into the burrough of his mind he’d designated as “The Other Guy’s.” Turned the aborted laugh into a choked cough instead. Air gone down the wrong pipe, no big deal, just need a moment.

Because no matter how familiar, how right it felt for a second, all the ones that followed never failed to call that out as a cheat, a lie. Not his to enjoy. It wasn’t his place to tease Jason with familiarity he’d never earned. There was nothing for him, nothing that might actually be called his, in the telling of jokes he couldn’t claim to understand. That may have been what it felt like to have a younger brother, that split second right there, but it wasn’t his brother, his feeling, his familiarity to enjoy. Ric had enough trouble feeling like he had a right to his own damn life as it was. He didn’t need to feel like he was stealing a dead man’s family on top of it all.

Course, as always, the younger siblings that still couldn’t make up their own minds as to whether they were Dick’s or Ric’s or neither’s or both’s, well, they seemed just as determined as ever not to get that. He had the sense - born of instincts, not the tattered echoes of someone else’s memories - that not having made up their own minds yet wasn’t really a problem for them. Figuring it all out on the move, making it up as they went....that all seemed very much the rest of this family’s style. And it wasn’t even that Ric couldn’t see the advantages of such an approach, didn’t get the appeal....he just didn’t know how to get as comfortable with figuring it out on the go. He was plenty familiar with going through life without the firm dependability of solid ground beneath his feet, but this was something else entirely.

And just wanting to match the end results of lifetimes spent adapting on the run.....that didn’t actually make a damn bit of difference when it came to how far behind the rest of this family he was now.

Like the saying goes: If wishes were horseshoes, well, his parents would still be alive.

Okay, maybe that wasn’t exactly how that went, but close enough.

“And sister, please, don’t trivialize what we did here,” Jason proclaimed dramatically, drawing Ric out of his maudlin musings and back into the fitful fluorescent lighting of the here and now. The younger man swept one arm out wide to the side, emphasizing everything within its broad radius, then did the same with the other. He wore a painfully false face of earnest piety, along with hints of a smirk threatening to erupt from beneath. “This was about justice, not fraternization. These are very bad men.”

Cassandra skewered every bit of his bullshit all at once, in one go. With just one single spearing look, and a coolly half-raised eyebrow of contempt.

Once again, Ric just. Felt all the jealousy. Decided what the hell. Embraced it fully.

“Okay, see, that,” Ric called out, jabbing a pointed finger at The Other Guy’s little sister. She flicked her eyes at most half an inch in his direction in acknowledgment. Ugh. Her nerves of steel were as impressive as they were annoying. Whatever, that was a grudge for another day. “That right there? That’s just....masterful. Forget about that stuff you were telling me about reading body language, the way you sell your body language....I mean jeez, you packed enough judgment into just that one little look, you could send a whole convent of nuns running off to do penance without needing a single reason why. Now that, I can definitely make use of. Can you teach me that?”

She flicked her eyes the rest of the inch or so needed to take Ric in fully. Raked him up and down with a brisk, assessing look, though assessing what, he had no idea. It wasn’t like they were total strangers at this point. Whatever. Point being, he felt decidedly judged. Rude. It was only fun when she did that to Jason, not him.

“No,” Cassandra decided at last.

Huh. Cool cool. Well. Let no one ever accuse Little Sis of not being succinct, at least.

Jason snorted.

“Cassandra’s a prodigy, y’see,” the younger man drawled out, piling heavy emphasis on a tone best named Mockery. He punctuated his jab with dramatically wide eyes and a nod of his head in his sister’s direction.

She propped one elbow on her leg and dropped her chin atop her fist, leaning into it as she contorted her face into such a saccharinely sweet expression, she could have refilled the sugar shakers with it.

“Whereas Jason’s just a bitch.”

Their brother dropped his own facial contortions and took up a scowl and a glare in exchange.

“Why are you like this.”

Cass shrugged. “Tu existis, ergo sum oportet.”

“You will be, therefore I must,” Ric’s brain translated for him absently, even though Latin had definitely not been one of the languages of his youth. He hardly noticed though, busy gesturing back and forth between the two siblings.

“So this is like, like a thing with you two, huh? Okay, so. Now. Is this just like a you thing, like just another one of the very many ways this family is like the superhero version of the Addams family, but heavily on drugs and no, not the good kind, or like, is this actually a normal family thing and I just grew up watching the wrong sitcoms.”

Both of them stopped and visibly contemplated that for a beat. Jason tilted his head towards the ceiling, face scrunched up and squinting with one eye as though doing particularly complicated math in his head. Cassandra remained positioned exactly as she was, but thanks to some infinitesimal, impossible-to-pinpoint shift, she now was the spitting replica of Rodin’s Thinker.

“It’s more like...hmm. How best to put this,” Jason mused. “Let’s just like, call it ideological differences, I guess. Look, the only thing you really need to know is I’m right, she and the rest of the ilk are wrong, and you should be on my side and get on the winning team.”

Cassandra rolled her eyes and leaned back, now bracing herself with her hands planted palm-flat on the bar counter to either side of her.

“Now ask him how much of his ideology was formed back when he still had literal, actual brain damage, and whether he just remains committed to it because being a stubborn asshole is most of his personality.”

“Wow, very uncool, sis,” Jason said loftily. He threw an arm in Ric’s direction. “Just tossing my old brain damage out there like that, and in front of our currently brain-damaged older brother, no less. For shame, Cassandra, for shame.”

He sniffed dramatically and pointedly then. “Also, not that you care, obviously, but that was a very sensitive time for me. I was only recently resurrected and imbued with mystical roid-rage and my only caretakers were assassins who believed blowing things up was the solution to all life’s problems. I mean, not that they were wrong about that part, but still.”

Their sister looked actually contrite for a moment, but the flicker in his direction had Ric suspecting that had more to do with him and his well, currently brain-damaged state, than it did Jason’s follow-up soliloquoy. To which Ric now had follow-up questions of his own. Oh, so very many follow-up questions.

He held up a hand, palm out. “Wait, hang on. Rewind a second. Can we revisit the ‘recently resurrected’ part of that?”

Jason waved dismissively. “Its a long story. Basically, like, back when I was fifteen I was beaten to death and blown up by a homicidal clown and then six months later I crawled out of my own grave because, to be honest, I don’t even know still, Gotham’s just like that, y’know? Then our Dad’s grudge-bearing ex-girlfriend, who happens to also be the daughter and second-in-command of a legendary order of elite assassins, like, she found me and took me back to their secret magic day spa to give me a good dunking in that sweet, sweet resurrection juice that also gives you like, intermittent road rage but worse, and then when I was back to my old self except but now with those couple little extra features, they trained me up and sent me home to sow chaos and destruction in the old man’s city because I mean, like I said. Grudge-bearing ex. Hell hath no fury like an al Ghul scorned. Anyway, so yeah, that’s the gist of it. It was this whole thing or whatever, but its pretty much ancient history at this point. And that’s what you missed on Glee.”

Ric took a minute to absorb all that, rewind it, run through it again, and then loop it all around a good five or ten times in case there was a secret code in play somewhere and he just wasn’t getting it.

Meanwhile, Cassandra wrinkled her nose at their brother. “Really? You watched that show?”

“Only enough to know how to mock it,” he fired back defensively.

Ric held up his hand again, so as to derail all of whatever that was before it had a chance to run off and become its own separate thing. Problem was, he still hadn’t quite organized his thoughts on the debriefing of moments prior, and didn’t have a clear plan of attack for how to go about tackling his desperate need for more context there.

So when “Beaten to death and blown up by a homicidal clown?” was what came out as most direly in need of further information, he wanted to go on the record as feeling that wasn’t entirely on him. It was the missing context’s fault, see.

Jason squinted at him. “Yes, beaten to death and blown up by a homicidal clown,” he reiterated, as though a lack of repetition was the real problem there. “What part of that are you having trouble with?”

Ric looked over to Cassandra, somewhat helplessly.

She just offered a casual lift of one shoulder. “It happens.”

While Ric was still trying to formulate a response to that, oh, somewhere in the vicinity of “Does it, though?” Cassandra carried on.

“And don’t let him fool you with that ancient history bit. The only thing less dead and buried than that is him. He has to fit in “I died though,” at least once before every meal and again before bedtime. Otherwise people might forget, of course.”

“Fine. It was an important milestone in my life, alright?” Jason pronounced with steadfast confidence that was only slightly diminished by his sudden preoccupation playing with the zipper of his jacket.

Cassandra rolled her eyes again. “And yet I’ve died twice and manage to occasionally go ten whole minutes without bringing it up.”

“That’s his real gripe with me,” she added as an aside to Ric, as he stood there...processing. “He can’t play his favorite ace in the hole when I’m around. Drives him crazy.”

“Whereas dearest sister’s gripe with me is she’s the absolute worst and can’t let me have anything ever,” Jason grumbled in audible annoyance.

“Yes, that’s what it is. Absolutely.”

“Exactly, see? I’m so glad we’re all on the same page here."

“Make better choices,” Cass sing-songed, attention intent on a bottle cap she’d found to play with, walking it knuckle by knuckle on one hand and then the other.

“I just want everyone here to know that I used to dream of having a sister. I wanted one more than anything in the world, I thought having a sister would just be the best thing ever. And then she happened,” Jason flung his narrowed stare at her like twin daggers.

Cassandra yawned at him.

“Well great,” Ric said at last, into the silence that followed. “That clears everything up nicely then. Thanks so much.”

16 notes · View notes

smartguyreviewed · 4 years

Text

2x5 - Dumbstruck

Original air date: October 8, 1997

Yay, an episode where TJ is actually acting like a kid! And also an excuse for me to rant about how much I despise group projects.

A very over it Lisa Simpson (played by Yeardley Smith) is handing back tests to her dumb ass students save for TJ and this annoying white kid named Clark that we’ll be introduced to briefly because Mackey ended up being the lead token white on this show, right next to Yvette’s cute friend Nina.

Clark asks how TJ did. He humble brags and Marcus snatches his test to gloat about his brother finally not doing well at something. Sike! TJ got a 110 on his assignment. Marcus is dumbfounded since he clearly doesn’t even put in the bare minimum.

Lisa has to remind Marcus that demonstrating how you actually studied will get you more points. She gives her lazy, remedial students a chance to make up for their piteous attempts with a makeup assignment, an oral group report on WW2. Now everyone is mad at TJ because he fucked up the curve of the grading system, facilitating the need for a makeup assignment. Mackey is pissed.

Marcus and Mo of course decide to stick all the work on TJ while they go to Dawgburger. TJ, now wanting to fit in with his cool brother and bestie, agrees but is promptly thrown into a garbage can by Mackey and his 30 year old goon when they give him shit for being smart. Because the plot calls for it in this episode, TJ isn’t masterminding a plan to put fudged up charges on Mackey’s record or flunk him out of school forever.

At the Henderson crib, TJ is attempting to do the assignment but the boys are watching The Three Stooges with non-copyright stock sound effects and can’t be bothered to lower the volume. Even Floyd stops scolding Marcus and Mo to join them. Apparently, TJ thinks being a genius and being entertained by slapstick are mutually exclusive.

Yvette is in the kitchen frowning at her fruitless yogurt when TJ comes in to whine about feeling left out. Yvette, as usual, is there to provide motherly advice and reassure TJ that he’s too brilliant to relate to simpleton humor. She even suggests that he’ll be the only non crooked black politician on the Supreme Court. Aww. TJ will revenge porn her in the future.

Just then, a truck pulls in with daddy Floyd’s wood--hehe--and the boys, including Mo, gather in the garage to bring in Floyd’s wood--last time, I promise--to wherever it needs to go.

Yvette comes in after the gang delegates how the work flow will commence and then commands the plot for the episode when she tells TJ his shoe is untied while Mo and Marcus are handing boards to each other. This ended well.

After passing out, Marcus, who is terrifyingly not alarmed, just calls for Floyd and then we end up at the hospital where it seems that TJ’s relatively light board smack has now rendered him dumb. Not only dumb but more childish than usual.

Marcus cares nothing about TJ’s prognosis, however, because he is a horny teenage boy and the doc is hot. Yvette has to literally drag him out of the room by his ear.

The doctor tells Floyd that this strange concussion could leave TJ acting like this for weeks. Of course Floyd is concerned since TJ is gifted. The next morning, TJ is so forgetful and delayed at breakfast that Floyd and Yvette have to play charades to help him navigate feeding himself.

Marcus comes in and asks if TJ is back to normal because he doesn’t want to do anything that makes him use his own damn brain for a change. After Flody sees this because Marcus did it right in the kitchen where he was about three feet away, he of course takes Marcus aside to tell him to quit badgering TJ to get well again.

At school, Mo thinks it’s a good idea to simply undo TJ’s problem by hitting him in the head again. Since we’re working off corny sitcom logic, he’s not exactly off base here. I mean, it did only take two light hits from a wooden board to turn TJ into an imbecile so why not do the same to get him back to normal, right?

During class, TJ is wowing everyone with his diminished IQ that was announced to everyone in the class for some reason. Eh, it’s Piedmont so I really shouldn’t be surprised that all of his business is out there.

Lisa is pissed because now that TJ is dumb and she hates Clark for some reason, teaching will be damn near impossible because nobody participates. I think I feel her pain because she asks a super easy question (what naval base did the Japanese attack) and nobody but annoying ass Clark answers. Poor thing. She probably came into this profession bright-eyed and bushy tailed, ready to change students’ lives and become the next Erin Gruwell but ended up becoming nothing more than a de facto babysitter.

TJ is taking advantage of being one of the guys by making fun of the more deadly effects of dropping bombs and says it led to radioactive monsters. The boys laugh but Lisa is aggy that nobody is taking this seriously. To spite her idiot students, she makes the reports worth half of their grade. Mackey blames Clark instead of the teacher who literally just assigned it. For some reason, this tickles Clark even though he’s going to end up in the garbage soon.

Since TJ is one of the guys again, he manages to tag along with the crew at Dawgburger, a place he wasn’t invited to earlier since he was going to do their group assignment all by himself. In hindsight, I hated group projects because I did all of the work anyways since my cohorts were dumb as rock boxes, so this wouldn’t have bothered me at all. Abolish group projects!

Post Dawgburger, TJ is in bed reading a comic and shooting the shit with Marcus. This is sweet. I like seeing siblings bond on TV shows because the regular narrative always seems to involve them all hating each other. Here, there’s no drama, just Marcus actually being responsible because he’s studying for the oral report and TJ, in what would be his natural state if he weren’t a genius. They even have a heart to heart when TJ asks if he’ll be okay and what would happen once he’s back to normal. Marcus says he’ll still stick up for him. Aww.

In geometry the next day, TJ’s intelligence just comes right back after he flawlessly recites the Pythagorean theorem when the dorky teacher asks. Once he realizes this, and after having probably the few easiest days in a while, TJ understandably commits to pretending to be a dolt. That is until pops sees TJ’s quantum physics magazine inside of a comic book!

Floyd traps TJ by making up a pretty damn good scenario in the Jughead comics but later confirms the lie by letting TJ know that wasn’t in the comic. He goes into how he likes being dumb with the guys because they like him more. Makes sense! TJ has nothing in common with them outside of attending their school but now he’s intellectually on their level. He knows this would change once he goes back to his regular self. Floyd should know this too but alas. I do love how he tells TJ he won’t rat on him. TJ returns the favor by telling his dad that he should write for the Jughead comics because that story he made up made him LOL super hard.

We cut to school where Mackey is just finishing up his group presentation about the X-Men invading Iwo Jima. Lisa Simpson isn’t impressed. Marcus and crew are up next and poor Marcus is struggling. I think it’s so funny that Marcus, a singer with a whole ass band, has stage fright upon trying to remember everything he studied for but just goes to show that music comes easier to him than school.

The internal monologues of everyone come up. Marcus is trying to remember what he studied. TJ contemplates bringing his brain back. Mo is...fucking beatboxing in his head. This shit had me dead when I first saw this episode.

However, Lisa ain’t having it. She is two seconds away from using the dreaded red pen before TJ saves the day and begins talking about WW2. The boys are shocked but it helps trigger Marcus’s memory and then he’s able to spew out the facts. Mo doesn’t contribute but he will definitely take the credit!

Later in the Henderson crib, Marcus is pissed because TJ almost let them fail. Although TJ is reminding Marcus that he put his effort into something and it paid off, Marcus is still annoyed leading TJ to think he doesn’t like him anymore.

Marcus explains that he enjoyed TJ’s company when he was dumb because he finally felt like what he is: his older brother. Kind of hard to feel that way when your younger brother is better at everything you do and a major know-it-all. He even admits that he can’t even pretend now that TJ is smart again because it won’t feel the same. I like when Marcus is doing more than chasing girls every episode because he shows maturity at times that is pleasing to watch.

He offers to instead be an older brother in other ways like threatening other people with violence if they make fun of TJ. Cute, but we all know Marcus is scary. Nice gesture though! Floyd comes in and tells the boys good night. At the end, we see Floyd took TJ up on his advice and is submitting an idea to the Jughead comics. Aww Floyd. I wish we’d gotten a subtle nod to if his idea was used because he seemed really happy with himself afterwards. Eh, whatever. Parents aren’t people so who cares.

Things I noticed:

- Clark being oddly satisfied that he knows Mackey and his fellow middle-aged adult friend are going to put him in the trash. Clark either has a crush on Mackey and didn’t like TJ for the attention he got from Mackey or he has some sort of a trash fetish. Or both. Maybe that’s why Lisa doesn’t fuck with him.

- “Okay students, now watch as I turn left to a right triangle.” I’m a dork and this actually made me laugh. Tough classroom, though.

#smart guy #mo tibbs #tahj mowry #yvette henderson #marcus henderson #jason weaver #essence atkins #omar gooding #john marshall jones #disney #90s #nineties

12 notes · View notes

angelicspaceprince · 5 years

Text

Youtuber!Beetlejuice Headcanons Part 2

I don’t know how, I don’t know why, but my Youtuber!Beej hcs have gotten almost 200 notes in like under a day (thatsalsocountingthespamjustballoonfishthingsdidbutanyway) and I promised a part two once I reached 100 so. Here we are.

Part 1

Tagging: @justballoonfishthings, @broadwaytrashstrikesagain, @imma-fucking-nerd

You have figured something wasn’t quite normal with Beetlejuice long before the two of you started dating

For one, he always ate just really weird shit

Bugs, glass, wood, paper, rat poison on one occasion and just constantly eating tide pods

At first you’d panic but as time went on, you figured it was all a prank and it was just sugar made to look like inedible stuff

Would explain his hyperactivity and why he always seemed to just need to Move

But when you eventually started spending more and more time at his and filming your videos at the Deetz’s who were his family but also not apparently, the more you realised

No there was some fucked up shit happening

The amount of times he just....took a glass from the cupboard and started munching, or just took one of Adam’s model houses and slammed the whole thing in his mouth or found a random beetle and just. Fucken ate the sucker

It was terrifying

But according to Lydia, he has a really strong stomach and he won’t die from eating literal poison as he downs a bottle of weed killer

You just watched and decided

Ok. Fine. I can handle this

Then there was the hair. On camera, you thought it was a trick of the light because during the con, his hair was a permanent green with occasionally the tips being pink, but that could be hair chalk

But at home, his hair changed constantly, on its own, according to his mood

Perhaps it was a type of hair dye that changes colour depending on body temperature

Ignoring the fact that his hair is very much, for the most part, away from his scalp

But more small things started to happen. Like how he could just disappear and reappear at random, at first you thought it was ninja skills. But then it became ‘no this is physically impossible for him to be here so quickly’

Once, you swore you saw him levitate

His total lack of regard for danger too, it just all slowly started to add up that perhaps there was more to this story than everyone was letting on

The kicker was when you literally caught him sitting on the ceiling to entertain Lydia

It wasn’t the ceiling part that got you, although that was creepy

It was the fact he was slowly turning his head a full 360 degrees

You booked it out of there, rushing past the concerned Maitlands and the Deetz’s and out the front door, all the way back to your house

Beetlejuice kept blowing up your phone with voice messages, his preferred way to text ‘You ok babes?’ ‘Adam said you looked like you’d seen a ghost!’ ‘Please message me?’ ‘Babes, seriously, are you ok? Everyone’s worried.’ ‘Are we through? Are you ghosting me?’ ‘Very mature Y/N. Call me when you decide you want to be an adult.’ ‘Please. Please at least text me. I’ll get Lydia to read it out! Just. Don’t ignore me, please babes.’

The last one sounded so broken but you ignored it

What the FUCK was that?

You could feel the panic brewing in your gut as the vision played again and again in your brain

Maybe you imagined it? No, there was no way that you thought this up

When you finally collect yourself, you text Lydia

‘What the FUCK was that with Beetlejuice?’

Minutes passed before you got a response, simply a question mark.

‘His head was rotating like a fucking owl Lydia!’

Almost instantly, your phone started buzzing with Beetlejuice trying to call you

You hesitate over the ignore button, but figured that it was best to hear the excuse from the man himself.

You press accept

“Babes! Are you alright?” He shouts down the phone, clearly concerned.

“What. The. Fuck.” Is all you get out, anxiety now turning into rage. “What the fuck was that? How the fuck? Beetlejuice, I could accept that perhaps you had this weird biology thing which meant you could eat weird shit, and perhaps you could decide to be light on your feet when usually I can hear you coming towards me a mile off, but what. Was. That?” You spew out in one large rush.

There is a pause, you can feel him thinking

“Say my name three times.” He begs

“What?” The change of subject confused you enough that the anger pretty much all but disappeared. “Is this a hypnosis thing?”

“No!” His protest is loud as he struggles to remain composed. “Look, just. It’s hard to explain. Just say my name three times, it’s gotta be spoken, unbroken ok? Just say my name three times in a row.”

You blink but decide to entertain him.

“Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice.”

“One more time. Please babes.”

“Beetlejuice.”

Suddenly, with a loud pop, he was there. In front of you. Still holding his phone. His hair was blue and purple, which you came to realise was sad and scared. He quickly hangs up and just stares at you as you process what just happened.

“What. Ok. I’m losing my mind.” You finally decide. “Stress, I have too busy a schedule, I’m just stressed.” You flinch when his hands move to grab your shoulders

“No babes, it’s me.” He hesitates for a second before taking a breath. “I’m dead.” “You’re gonna be.” “No, I mean now. I’m the ghost with the most. Dead.”

You blink before mouthing the words ‘dead’. “I need to see a shrink, clearly I’m psychotic.”

Beetlejuice groans. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I was scared you were gonna run off and. Well. I didn’t want that.” His hand moves to cup your cheek, thumb running at the skin under your eyes gently. “But this is real, and I’m still real, even if I’m a dead guy.”

“Hence the glass and bugs and rotating head.” He nods.

“It’s not all I can do, but it’s some of it.”

You poke his chest, causing him to push back slightly before sighing. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

He looks at you confused. “You’re not dumping me?” You raise an eyebrow

“I moved halfway across the country to be closer to you. You’re still the same dumbass I fell in love with, the one with Mommy issues who loves it when people during out livestreams spend the entire time gushing over how lucky I am to have you, because it gives you an excuse to say that you’re the lucky one that I chose you. Still the dumbass who laughs during horror flicks because its so unrealistic and claims to be best pals with the Mothman and is addicted to Buzzfeed Unsolved and wants to do a collab with them. I’m not dumping you. You hid this from me for a reason and I’m just glad that you’ve told me now. But, as I said.” You make eye contact for the first time since you saw his head spin around his body like a Beyblade. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

“I tried to marry Lydia in an attempt to become alive but she killed me shortly after, Delia gave me the ok to kill a man and I’m pretty sure Charles has come close to murdering me too, but we are all friends now. Also, the Maitlands are also ghosts.” He gets it out in one long breath. You just stare at him.

“Is everyone in that house dead?” “No, just me and the Maitlands.” “Lydia looks like she might be dead.” “She is on the inside.”

You nod as the shock slowly goes through your system. “You tried to marry a teenager?” “It was a green card thing!” He protests. “And, and, and! I had a full blown panic attack because breather emotions are evil and that teenager stabbed me!” “I think she had a good reason Beej.”

It takes a little adjusting and a lot more questions, but you are more or less content with the whole thing, a month before you’d fully accepted it and five weeks before you finally processed the whole thing

You had a lot of questions for the Maitlands and when they told you the sort of person Beetlejuice was before he met you, it made sense compared to all the shit he had told you in confidence

Still

Life goes on

And it turns out you have a dead youtuber for a boyfriend, who lives in a house with two other ghosts, a teen he tried to marry, a spiritual guide who asked him to murder her ‘guru’ named Kevin and one relatively normal guy

Tbh that’s a sitcom that you’d wanna watch.

118 notes · View notes