#gotta get my hands on that movie and live the nostalgia

[strangefable]

TFW a gifset blindsides you full force with feelings about a long dead ship for a long dead oc with an rp partner you no longer have contact with 🥲

[kitseddie]

This Must Be The Place

Chapter 6: Life On Mars?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Part 7

(Eddie Munson X GN!Reader)

Summary: Eddie is a dumb idiot and doesn’t talk about his feelings. He should work on that.

W/C: 3.7K

Warnings: smoking, miscommunication

A/N: Eddie is a jealous baby and Steve is also a himbo who doesn’t connect dots super well. I know in reality that Steve would of probably mentioned a new neighbour to Eddie but I didn’t think about that when I wrote this ❤️ so leave me alone just enjoy the fluff okay????

“Hey honey, why don't you head down to that video store and find us something fun to watch?”. Your mother called from the living room, as you brought her and your stepdad a hot cup of coffee. A sigh escaped you, you wouldn't mind a nice movie night with your family but you didn't really want to run the risk of bumping into Eddie. Despite your short lived night of nostalgia, he’d still continued to be distant for the past week or two and you couldn't figure out why.

“Uh, I don't know if I'm up for driving Mom, I've had a long week”. She sighed looking a little disappointed and you started to feel an ache in your chest. Maybe you could put your insecurities behind you for enough time to rent out a couple of movies, besides you couldn't even be sure that he was working today.

You reached out and picked up your keys, as you watched her eyes light up. “Just a quick drive and no complaining about my picks, alright?”. She nodded and mimicked the zipping of her mouth as you smiled and headed out. The whole drive your legs felt like jello, why were you so damn nervous? You were acting like a child. When you pulled up you let out a deep breath, siking yourself up as you headed inside. The bell rang and you quickly noticed that the place was empty, you silently thanked the gods and started rushing around the family section for something to take home. When you were satisfied with your choices you stacked them on the counter, trying to avoid any small talk or eye contact.

“Oh nice, I actually rented this a couple of-”. You raised your head at the familiar voice, widening your eyes in shock. He paused mid-sentence and smiled at you, equally as surprised.

“Steve? You work here?”. He grinned, scratching the back of his neck, his cheeks blushing a little. He did a pretty good job at keeping that a secret until now.

“Uh yeah, kinda lame I know. But gotta pay for the beemer somehow.” You smirked at his awkwardness, you didn't have any issue about him working here. It was kinda sweet. He continued ringing you up when you chuckled and shook your head.

“I can't believe you never told me! I mean…a friend of mine actually works here too.” He raised his eyebrow, bagging up your videos.

“Oh yeah? Lemme guess, Robin?”. He gestured to the girl whose eyes were glued to the ground as she focused on not dropping the high stack of tapes she was holding. You chuckled, glad for her sake that she didn't notice you.

“No actually it's-”. Right on cue, he appeared. You sighed and relaxed your shoulders, your eyes meeting his. “Eddie.” You almost whispered, Steve was stunned as he turned to his coworker in confusion. Eddie didn't look very happy, but he hid it well enough to fool Steve.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He said weakly, looking between you and Steve. You smiled and stood there awkwardly, struggling to think of something to say. Robin followed the sound of your voices and stumbled out from the back room and onto an awkward interaction.

“I uh, I didn't know you guys worked together. I guess Hawkins is smaller than I thought”. Eddie still looked like he was on edge, walking a little closer to Steve.

“And how did you two get acquainted?”. You could sense the tension and it felt a little familiar, Eddie used to be super protective over guys you were seeing in middle school. He wanted to make sure you were in good hands. But he seemed to be getting it all wrong with Steve.

“He's my neighbour.” His eyes slowly turned back at you, slipping his hand from Steve’s shoulder. Robin was holding her breath, only now connecting the dots.

“Your neighbour”. He repeated, mainly to himself as he looked between you both coming to his own realisation. Steve nodded seemingly on edge, not understanding why Eddie was acting so defensive.

“Eddie, can we talk for a second? I mean, if that’s okay with you guys.” Steve nodded, handing you your tapes as the older boy followed you outside the back door. He immediately reached into his jacket pocket for a cigarette and took a drag. “When we were dropping off Max that night…you saw me, didn’t you?.” He was struggling to make eye contact, taking another long drag before finally looking over at you.

“Yeah, yeah I saw you. Saw you in Harrington's car days after moving here and I just…I don’t know I just got in my head about it.” You didn’t get it, didn’t get why he wouldn’t just speak up so you could talk it out. Why would he bottle up his emotions like this and just push you away? Why not be open and honest about it? What was he so afraid of?

“I get it, you’re protective and you’re worried about me and that’s so sweet Eds but I’m not a little kid anymore, you don’t have to look out for me.” He chuckled to himself, shaking his head and rubbing his hand against his face.

“I’m always gonna look out for you, I’m always going to protect you. That’s my job.” God, he was so sweet, even sweeter than you remember. He threw his cigarette butt on the floor and ground it into the sidewalk with his boot. “As charming and deviously handsome as I am…sometimes I get a little…insecure. Totally on me though. Something for a future therapist to charge me $60 to talk about.” You shoved him and he chuckled, what he didn’t know was that this was not just on him. Because it was your job to look after him too.

“Or you could save the $60 and talk to me.” You reached out and grabbed his hand, stroking his knuckles gently as he started to relax. “Or you could just give me the $60, totally your call.” He smirked at that, rolling his eyes as he pulled you into a hug. You closed your eyes and squeezed him tight, you wished it could be like this. Always like this. Robin and Steve peeked their heads around the open door, catching a glimpse of the interaction.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t recognise them from the video store,” Robin muttered, shaking her head at his obliviousness.

“You were in the way!”. She rolled her eyes and stared back at him, her hands on her hips.

“Or in the movie theatre?”. He grew frustrated at the accusations, both you and Eddie watching them both bickering as you chuckled.

“It was dark! Come on, cut me some slack!”. Robin stormed off into the building, Steve following closely behind as you both giggled. He glanced down at you, getting a little lost in your eyes as he patted your shoulder.

“You should probably get home, kid, your mom will wonder where you’ve gotten to.” You nodded as he walked you back inside, you pulled Steve into an awkward hug over the counter and waved goodbye to Robin. He opened up the front door and you grinned, always the gentleman.

“What time do you get off work?”. He seemed surprised by your enthusiasm but glanced down at his watch to check the time.

“Like five. God, you’re not gonna make me study are you? You know Sunday is the day of rest”. You almost snorted, there's that playfulness you'd been missing. That old Munson charm.

“Oh God, no. I just… it's kind of lame but after going back to the trailer park with you, I've been feeling sort of homesick. I thought maybe I could stop by after you're home?”. His brown eyes gleamed against the sunlight, his head nodding gently.

“Stay by the phone, I'll call you when I'm home.” He smirked revealing a movie from behind his back. The Goonies. “On the house. Don’t tell Steve.” He whispered, as you crossed your heart and smirked. There was a small pause as you considered pecking his cheek, but backed out at the last second. Instead, you pulled him into another hug and said your goodbyes before climbing into your car, a smile clinging to your face the whole ride home. You were finally getting Eddie back.

You wandered into your house with a stupid grin on your face, swaying the bag of tapes back and forth and collapsing onto the sofa. Your mom and stepdad shared a knowing look raising their eyebrows at your new sunny disposition, you just glanced over to them and smiled finding it impossible to hide your grin. They didn’t even question it, telling you to pick a movie as you slid in the copy of The Goonies that Eddie had snuck into your hand before you left.

Halfway through the second movie, you heard the phone ring, rushing up to your feet and almost pulling a Robin in the process. With a deep breath and a cough you watched it ring a couple more times before finally picking it up. Can’t be too eager to answe. You muttered a casual hello, pretending you didn’t just almost sprain your ankle rushing to answer as you could almost hear his grin through the receiver.

“Heard this was a number for a good tutor, think you can squeeze me in?”. You snickered and rolled your eyes, he was so cheesy.

“Didn’t anyone tell you? Sunday is the day of rest”. Okay, so maybe cheesy was okay by you. This line earned you a chuckle, filling your chest with a new sense of pride. You heard a small meow coming from the background as you smirked thinking about his ringed fingers scratching behind the ears of the trailer park cats. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you had company”.

He huffed a laugh, clearly not expecting the phone to pick up her demands for food. “Yeah, we’re having dinner if you wanna join, how's dead rat sound?”. You scrunch your face in disgust as a shiver runs down your spine at the thought.

“Ah you know, I actually had dead rat for lunch”. He chuckled and you could sense him shaking his head, sighing dramatically down the line.

“A shame really.” You nervously twirled the chord with your finger waiting for him to invite you over. “I got a better idea for some food, come meet me in the woods by the trailer park.”

“Daunting pickup line, but I have no concern for personal safety so I’m in”. You noticed your mom and stepdad eavesdropping and trying to subtly crank their necks to see what you were up to. “I’ll be there in 5.” Oh right, the movie. Your mother’s eyebrows were cocked at an angle as you sat next to her and held her hand in between yours.

“It’s okay. It’s Eddie again, isn’t it?.” She knew without you even opening your mouth, you just nodded with a shy smile and she waved you off as you rushed upstairs to get changed into something warmer. You threw some essentials in your bag and wandered out to your car, kissing your family goodbye.

God, you were beaming, you didn’t know what the hell had gotten into you. These few weeks of distance and disinterest had been slowly eating away at you. It was becoming strangely clear that Eddie’s company was really important to you. You shook it off and pulled into the spot behind his van, noticing him perched on his doorstep having a smoke and giving chin scratches to his fluffy friend. When he lifted his head to meet your eyes his face morphed into a wide smile, it was comforting to know he was just as happy to see you.

“Didn’t know you had a lady over, hope I’m not interrupting”. You dropped your bag near the steps and sat in the empty spot next to him, watching her rub up against his leg and purr like a chainsaw. “Wow, she really likes you, got catnip in your pocket or something?”. He turned to face you with a look of shock, as you giggled.

“That’s cold. Is my alluring charm and selfless generosity not enough? You have to resort to asking if I have cat drugs in my pocket? I’m hurt.”He slapped a hand over his chest and tilted his head leaning closer as you rolled your eyes and shoved him.

He chuckled and tapped his knees before rising to his feet, offering his hand out to you. Your wide eyes stared up at him and grabbed it as he pulled you to your feet. He picked up your backpack and spun you around, pulling your arms through the straps before throwing his own around his shoulder.

“After you.” He held out his arm and gestured in front of you as you went ahead, trailing towards the woods.

The outstretch of land that started from the edge of the trailer park went on for miles, there were a few paved pathways but it hardly mattered since the ground was mostly flat anyway. It was springtime in Indiana, meaning there was still a touch of frost in the air, especially during the night. It wasn't even seven o’clock when you headed out and it had already started to get a little darker. The moon illuminated the sky through the thin layer of clouds, and the stars twinkled above you both as you shared a grin and headed deeper through the trees. Muddying up your sneakers as you stumbled through the dirt and leaves that stuck to your feet.

Eddie stopped and you almost slammed right into his back, as he rested his palms around his hips and turned around with a grin. It was still pretty dark so you pulled your flashlight from your backpack and shone it over the secluded area. Two large logs sat on each side of a pile of sticks, rocks carefully circling the circumference. Without a word, he laid out a blanket on one of the logs and patted the seat next to him. You sighed and joined him, blowing on your hands and rubbing them together feeling the nip of the crisp air. He pulled his lighter out of his pocket and held the flame to the sticks, watching it slowly start to burn as you smiled.

“This is usually the part of the movie where we get killed by the local legend who lives in the woods”. Eddie chuckled, reaching deeper into his bag and pulling out a cassette player.

“Yeah well, pretty sure bigfoot was last seen in Kentucky, so I think we’re safe.” You laughed but then started to get a little scared, I mean…bigfoot or not, weren't there bears in these woods? You did not come prepared for bears. “Close your eyes”. He demanded as you raised your eyebrows and he stared at you, waiting. You decided it was best not to argue so you did as he said, hearing the sounds of him rummaging through his bag.

“Okay.” He said almost under his breath as you took that as confirmation to open your eyes. “Voila!”. The floor was littered with snacks that upon further inspection happened to be ingredients.

“Marshmallows, chocolate and gram crackers…now if only we had-”. He cut you off, pulling two long wooden sticks from behind his back as you smiled widely. S’mores. “Eddie Munson, you sure know the way to my heart”.

“S’mores are the way to your heart? God, you're a cheap date”. You gasped and barged his shoulder with yours as he chuckled and pressed a marshmallow against the tip of the stick. He snapped a gram cracker in half and piled some chocolate in the middle, trapping the marshmallow in between both halves.

“Hold it at the bottom, alright?”. You nodded and grinned as it started to all melt together, your eyes were glued to the roaring flame as you pulled it back. You placed it on your lap to cool, as you mirrored what Eddie did for you but with his stick as you handed it back to him. He started to hold it over the flames as you pulled his hair over his shoulders so it wasn't close to the fire.

“I missed you.” You blurted, his head snapping back to look at you as he lost his grip and dropped his s’more in the fire. He muttered a ‘shit’ and backed away, watching it slowly melting over the sticks. With a deep sigh, he fell back against the log and held his head in his hands. You nudged him, his eyes glancing over as you handed him half of yours.

“I missed you more.” He smiled, staring back at you as you both took a bite and groaned in approval. Fuck, that was a good s’more. You high-fived and finished up as you noticed a bit of chocolate on Eddie’s cheek, you subconsciously licked your thumb and held his cheek to wipe it off as he immediately pushed you away. “Gross, I don’t want your spit on me! Personal space issues or what, Jesus”. It was a little too dark to see but you swore you saw his cheeks blush red.

You noticed in the corner of your eye the cassette player resting on the other side of him, hooked up to a pair of headphones. Leaning over you grabbed it before he could stop you, you’d got your own at home but you didn’t think to bring it considering only one of you could listen at a time. He watched you intently as you untangled the wire and he moved closer, gently placing the headphones over your ears. You stared back with doe eyes and smiled.

“There’s this song I wanted to show you, it’s not my usual sort of thing but I kinda like it.” He skipped through the mixtape and landed on the one he was looking for. He gently placed the player on your lap and waited to see your reaction. It started with some gentle piano and as soon the vocals kicked in you recognised the artist immediately. Bowie. Eddie likes Bowie. You closed your eyes as it kicked in and the wails of the guitar mixed with his voice made you feel like you were on another plane of existence. And during all this, Eddie was marvelling at you getting lost in the sound and wondering how someone could look so beautiful.

“God that was…awesome.” Your eyes met his, he never looked away not even for a second. He smirked and pulled them off your head, placing them back in his bag and shoving some more marshmallows on your sticks. “Thanks for bringing me out here, Eds. I think I’ve had so much going on with work that I forgot how stressful it is moving cities.”

“Nothing to thank me for sweetheart, like I said before I love hanging out with you. It’s cool to uh, get my best friend back…”. You shared a genuine smile between the two of you, as you just looked into the fire and listened to its faint crackle. As you watched the flames dance and the small remnants of ash float against the wind you started to think back to the memories you shared in these very woods.

You and Eddie were always inseparable, even from a young age. The woods were the perfect place for a couple of kids looking for an adventure, full of small caves made from giant rocks and gentle streams that ran throughout the area. Your family would always give you hell for coming home late, covered head to toe in dirt and bruises. You’d search for the tallest tree you could find and race to the top, picking a solid branch to rest on as you watched the sunset.

“Hey, pack your shit. I got an idea”. A curious look appeared on his face, packing up his bag and following closely behind you. If your memory serves you right, it wouldn’t be too far from here. It took about ten minutes of silent walking, glancing up at the tops of the trees before you found it.

“Where are we-“. Your arm stretched out to stop him in his tracks, staring at the sky and pointing above you. His eyes followed and he almost gasped. “No fucking way”.

Standing before you was a large oak tree, the trunk decorated with a now unstable set of ladders made from cheap pieces of plywood and secured with numerous rusty nails. It leads up to a small treehouse, with a shattered roof and no door, covered in dirt and moss. The wood was damp and split, with regular wear and tear as a result of the Indiana climate over the past decade. But it was once a house built on memories. Of laying against the floor, reading each other your favourite books and laughing at your own stupid jokes.

“I can’t believe it’s still here.” It needed some work, but the fact it was still standing after all this time was a miracle. Eddie went to open his mouth when your wristwatch started beeping, oh yeah, Monday tomorrow. “Fuck, I gotta head back home, up early and all. See at school?”. He nodded, placing a hand on your back before moving forward with you.

“Lemme walk you back, don’t want Bigfoot following you home.” He saw your unamused face and chuckled to himself.

“Not funny.” You threatened, his smile never shifting. And he did just that before you even realised you had circled back to your car. “Tell Wayne I'm sorry I missed him.”

“Don't worry, I'm sure you’ll be back again soon”. Your eyebrows rose at his confidence, squinting back at him as you unlocked your car door.

“That's pretty presumptuous of you, Munson.” He huffed out a laugh and pulled you into him, pressing your body against his chest. It came as sort of a shock, he was never the one to initiate the goodbye hug but it was actually kinda nice. So you relaxed and you hugged him back, holding him tight as the scent of cigarettes and cheap deodorant crept up your nose.

“Call me when you’re home safe, okay?”. He pulled away and held onto your arms until you nodded with a smile, he muttered another “okay?” as you muttered one back. And you felt it again, that weird and strong urge to kiss him goodbye that was met with a stronger feeling of anxiety and dread. So you hopped into the driver's seat and backed out of the trailer park, waving out the back window and watching him through your rearview. You’d be back soon.

Taglist: @honey-eyed-munson

[video-gh0st]

So back in June I watched all the Ghostbusters films cause it was the anniversary of the original movie and I thought I'd do a quick bullet point review since it's been a bit since I watched them all together.

Ghostbusters (1984)

It's still a classic. Has memorable moments that will live on.

Fun scenes. Going after Slimer is always silly and chaotic.

Peter Venkman is a rough. I actually had a person tell me that Venkman is the reason why they never watched the first movie, and I don't blame them.

Wish there was a bit more build up to the confrontation with Gozer. Would be neat if they kept uncovering clues rather than just the moment they figured it out in the jail cell.

Ghostbusters II (1989)

I don't know why people dunk on this movie, it's great!

You can tell the cast and crew are having more fun and things are a bit more fleshed out.

Venkman actually has some good character growth and is not a total creep!

I actually like the build up to the climax on this one. Throughout the movie, there's a focus on the slime buildup in the city and the flow of the story feels good.

Some fun light scares.

I kinda don't like the whole "the ghosts just stop showing up" thing. It's a trope specifically for this franchise that's not really explained. Just "yeah nothing happened between the movies and people think, we're frauds again! Gotta do it all over again!"

Ghostbusters: Answer the Call (2016)

This movie gets a lot of undeserved hate thrown towards it for being the female lead reboot. A bunch of misogynist trolls threw a fit and never gave it a shot the moment it was announced.

The cast was great tbh. Everyone seemed to gel with one another.

Chris Hemsworth plays a himbo and we see him with his shirt off.

I really like the main antagonist in this movie. I think his character could have been fleshed out a bit more, but still fun idea.

The gear looks really cool in this movie.

Some scenes do keep going a bit too long and has like not good Saturday Night Live skit energy. I think they relied a bit too much on improv.

How the fuck is Chris Hemsworth the funniest motherfucker alive and why is he so cute?

There's a teeny tiny bit a queerness in this story, but I also feel like there's themes of found family going on here too and I like that.

Chris Hemsworth plays a himbo and we see him with his shirt off.

Ghostbusters: Afterlife (2021)

Trailers do this movie a disservice by making it feel like it's going for a Stranger Things feel, kinda relying a bit too much on nostalgia or even doing the "wow kids these days." It just felt like they didn't have any confidence on the movie itself when marketing this tbh.

The tone is a bit more serious, but honestly I'm fine with it. Still has some funny moments, but it's leaning more into the horror part a bit more.

Watching Phoebe learn more about her grandfather is honestly fun. And this movie does a great job with handing things off to a new generation in a way that doesn't feel like it's disingenuous.

Literally cried at the end. Honestly that ending felt wonderful and it felt like a good tribute to Harold Ramis.

I don't know why, but my first watch of this last year wasn't as good as the second watch this year. I don't know what happened. But I remember the first time I watched this and felt like it was just ok but not my favorite. Maybe it was just a bit of frustration that the sequel to Answer the Call got cancelled before it could even get into full production.

I appreciate the movie using some practical effects. There are just certain elements that you can't mess with in Ghostbusters movie and they nailed it.

Muncher is my least favorite ghost tbh. Idk, there are people who love Muncher and I do like the tardigrade inspired design, but idk, they didn't appeal to me like the other ghosts did.

[choccy-zefirka]

Well then. I had to take a plane ride with some obnoxiously talkative neighbors that would have prevented me from taking a nap, so instead I decided to put on headphones and watch a movie. The in-flight entertainment catalog was not very varied, so I ended up settling on the live action Aladdin, which I have been blissfully avoiding all these years. And yeah, that sure was a movie.

I'd say that I enjoyed it less than both the Lion King and Beauty and the Beast, particularly the latter, which I actually had genuine fun with, albeit most probably because I watched it with a friend and we were so carried away by pointing at the screen and riffing off each other that it might have created an illusion of a grand old time, softening the flaws of the film. Anyway.

There were a number of things that I kind of liked about live action Aladdin. They almost, just barely, brought the experience to the brink of being fun.

I remember all the Blue Will Smith memes back in the day, but he actually was one of the least meh parts of the movie for me? His performance was charming, when he was being himself rather than emulating Robin Williams. And I really appreciated the idea of this version of Genie turning into a human once he was freed from the lamp. Aside from that, I was rather interested in some of the new additions/character expansions (and I actually laughed out loud at the "I am going to get some bread... To go with all the jams" bit, it aligns perfectly with my sense of humor), but then they sort of... slipped away.

I wanna draw a parallel with the visuals here: in some parts of the movie, like the cave of wonders and the landscapes in A Whole New World, the backdrop was rather muddled. Both in terms of a diluted colour scheme and in terms of overcluttered details that do not pop the same way as the more simplistic yet bold and expressive animated scenes.

The plot buildup feels the same: there were moments that made me mentally go "Ooh, nice", like the backstory of Jasmine's mom, or the hints that Jafar and Aladdin are foils of each other, with similar backgrounds as thieves, or the attempt to make the captain of the guard more three-dimensional than "Grr gotta chase Aladdin with a sword"; but then they were not explored in-depth.

And I get that, I am beset by blorbo concepts that come to me as kernels of potentially intriguing plot and then simmer into nothingness all the time. But I am a small gremlin with a mundane day job, not a big-name creator at a multi-billion business meant to entertain people across the globe.

My biggest disappointment, though, aside from the almost complete loss of Iago's personality (which is also why I felt it made little sense for Jafar to pull Iago into the lamp at the end, as this is now less of a sidekick that you want to take down with you, but a random borb that talks sometimes), was the fact that I fully expected the himbo Fantasy North European Prince to show up when Jafar tossed Aladdin into the middle of the snowy nowhere.

I wanted it to be his kingdom, and for him to come riding in on a sleigh or something, and be like "Hey man, I see you got the princess over me, no hard feelings, let me give you a hand". The story paid way too much attention to him during the first act, turning the original asshole suitor from the animated movie into a dumbass but well-meaning jock that got bitten by Rajah not because he was being a douche to Jasmine but because he could not resist petting the Danger Kitty, which. Valid.

Justice for Himbo Prince.

Oh, and I guess the nostalgia bait of the songs worked on me to some extent, and I am now having flashbacks to my own retelling of Aladdin that I toyed with but obviously shelved because I did not want to come off as culturally insensitive. Overall, not the worst alternative to failing to nap.

[cinemaseeker]

Hot Take: Pinocchio (2022)

There's a reason why the story of this little wooden boy has been adapted to screen so many times. However, you'd never know what that reason is while watching this version, Disney's latest copy-and-paste "live-action" remake.

I think I would respect Disney so much more if they had just called this the computer-animated version. But then again, maybe not. But seriously, if you're going to call something "live-action" then put in some live action. And no, Tom Hanks gawking awkwardly at you through your TV screen does not count. I really hate bad-mouthing Tom Hanks like this but he and we both deserve better than this:

Maybe Disney knew they had a stinker on their hands and that's why they released it on Disney+ and not in theaters. The platform is starting to feel like a dumping ground for projects not anticipated to do well at the box office (don't even get me started on Turning Red, I'm still not over that nonsense).

But it's becoming increasingly obvious that the writing is on the wall.

The jig is finally starting to be up. And something's gotta give.

Here's the thing: there's a big difference between being told that something is whimsical and actually witnessing something whimsical. This whole movie feels lazy and condescending, like the corporate equivalent of waving keys in front of a baby's face. I'm not going to laugh just because the movie tells me that something is funny or cry just because they tell me that this moment is sad (Major pet peeve alert: fake-out deaths in Disney movies. In my mind, that's about as cloying and manipulative as it gets.)

Emotions are not something that can be told, they have to be felt. And that's what studios don't seem to understand. They keep trying to wring tears or laughs out of us to no avail. They keep trying to hedge their bets but now they need to start pulling new tricks up their sleeves or start putting actual effort into their projects if they want us to keep watching.

Either way, things need to change.

These movies have no reason to exist outside of making money and banking on our collective nostalgia. But who's the blame here? The studio that keeps giving us garbage or the people who keep watching and, more importantly, paying to watch it? Money talks loudly in Hollywood, no more so than in Disney, and our dollars have told them that this is apparently what we want to see:

Now with all that said, I do understand the appeal of these remakes, how exciting it can be to see familiar stories take on new forms, and how these movies can provide comfort for people burned out on a chaotic world filled to the brim with uncertainty. I would never wish to take that comfort away from anyone, but I still believe that we can demand better products from our corporations.

After all, they are here to serve us, although it often feels like it's the other way around (aka, backwards).

The sad thing is that this had the potential to not only be a decent remake but an actual good movie. This could've been a golden opportunity to incorporate some outstanding practical effects and use, oh I don't know, ACTUAL PUPPETS in this story about a LIVING PUPPET. If any studio had the resources to make that happen, it's Disney and the fact that they didn't even think to take advantage of such an opportunity is beyond insulting.

Hopefully these remakes can help turn younger generations onto the far superior hand-drawn animated versions and maybe help turn the tide back to 2D animation. These remakes could actually be good case studies of why some concepts work better in hand-drawn animation than in CGI, or even vice versa. I AM glad to see more studios taking the hybrid approach, using the best of both worlds.

But for now, all we can do is pray that Guillermo Del Toro's take on the story, set to be released on Netflix later this year, will give that little wooden boy the proper creative treatment he deserves.

My Rating: 2/5 wishing stars

[sakurology]

Szn’s Creamings

Miya Osamu x Fem!Reader

Warnings: oof a lot sorry- eggnog(its delicious and you’re all just mean), corruption if you squint, clandestine sex I guess? Choking, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), nipple play, the Miya accent, improper use of Christmas decorations, bondage, unprotected sex(you should know to expect this from my writing by now), vaginal penetration, squirting, creampies/breeding, use of the word daddy like ONCE, cum eating, a dash of overstim for optimal flavor, ahegao (😌) aaaaand snowballing (aka spitting cum in someone’s mouth) swearing obviously ummmmm shit man idk anymore I’m 999% sure that’s it- good shit below da cut

Wc: 2.5k

A/N: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, and a VERY Happy Holiday no matter your culture’s festivities! This is part of my collab with my lovely friends in The Sewer Server- @rat-suki ty anu for organizing it all! I’m love u. This fic was written in an eggnog & fireball induced  blackout, and is singlehandedly fueled by lust for Osamu’s Dorito body and my love for Steak n’ Shake.

Cheese-on’s Greetings Collab mlist here 🎄🎁🐁

“This... is it?” He cocked an eyebrow at the concoction, the red and green sprinkles bleeding dye into the whipped cream, the sad cherry on top sunken into it. 

“This is what you’ve been goin’ on about fer the last 3 weeks?” 

This- was an eggnog milkshake. A wintertime classic, and a staple at the local diner in your hometown. Simple enough. It didn’t look like much- in fact, it honestly wasn't. But to you, this shitty, artificially-flavored diner milkshake encompassed all the joys of holiday magic into one tall, frosted glass. You could count the years you spent in this diner, knocking them back. You’ve grown of course, but the nostalgia always stays the same. Having Osamu come to your hometown for the holidays was a pretty big step in your relationship, sure, but including him in the milkshake tradition usually reserved for your best friend? That was even bigger. 

“You haven’t even taken a sip, you ass,” you giggled, putting your own straw to your lips, reveling in the cool flavor that was coating your tongue. Pure sugar, just a hint of nutmeg and cinnamon- perfect as always. You pushed the glass over to him, urging him to try for himself. He took in a large drink, letting it rest before clicking his tongue a few times and looking over at your eyes- eyes that were aglow with anticipation and gingerbread men? No, that was just the reflection of the gaudy tinsel that adorned the booth you sat in. 

“Soooo?” 

“Not bad,” he sighed, pushing the glass back your way. Always anticlimactic. 

“But I could definitely make one that’s better.”

“I’d like to see you try,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes at him. 

One thing you knew he could never resist was a challenge. Grabbing his wallet, he slammed some bills on the table, whisking you away from the diner in 2 minutes flat, the milkshake an ever present memory, like that of the favorite Christmas gift from childhoods passed. You didn’t think he’d take it that seriously, but you also knew that Osamu took everything- especially food- seriously.

Even still, the drive back to your parents’ was a calm one, like every night adventure. The only difference was the bitter cold in the air, and the soft crooning of songs about Santa Claus on the radio. The only thing was- you just couldn’t stop pressing your thighs together….

“Put it away, sir.” you said jokingly, shifting your current position on the couch. Miracle on 34th Street shown on the small screen of the television as you flicked through what seemed like every Christmas movie ever made with the remote.  The feeling of his cock starting to stiffen at your back told you everything you needed to know; that Osamu wasn’t interested in whether or not Santa Claus was real, or  whatever the ‘true’ meaning of Christmas was- he was solely interested in the meaning of that which currently resided between your legs. 

A sneaky had drifted under your shirt, breath hitching in your throat as his thick fingers rolled one of your nipples, the soft tugging leaving you mewling as the sensation traveled down to your now throbbing clit. You leaned into it for a split second, but you were bought back to reality by the sight of your family’s Christmas photos on the fireplace mantle. There was no way in hell you could get fucked in front of a photo of your grandmother. You swatted Osamu’s hand away.

“We can NOT do this right now-” your words fell on deaf ears as  his hand snaked up your thigh, leaving a trail of warmth in  its wake as he settled them right above your stomach, fiddling with the drawstrings of your shorts. 

“My mom and dad are literally upstairs….” The words left your mouth faintly your body lurching toward him.

Again, you tried. A valiant attempt. It wasn’t a lie- they most certainly were upstairs, presumably fast asleep, as they had been up there for almost two hours now, leaving you and Osamu to watch a few corny Christmas movies- or so they thought. But he saw through your objections. Hearing the way your voice softened, seeing how your chest wavered as he got closer and closer to your face, he simply couldn’t contain himself. 

“It’s not my fault ‘ya wanted to stay here,” he huffed, large hands seizing your own, pushing away their protests as he passed his thumb up and down your clothed slit. You bit your lip in an effort to silence the moan that was bubbling its way up and out of your mouth. You had started to become feverish, your own state of vulnerability apparent as Osamu used one arm to pin your wrists above your head, sending your lower half flailing and bucking up into his free hand as you whimpered desperately for his touch.

“You want it, don’t ya, little love?” Little love. The one pet name you could never resist. Almost like a switch, you moaned a particularly needy, not-so-hushed “hmmhm- yes, daddy,” that definitely would have blown your cover. Luckily, Osamu’s thick fingers worked their way into your mouth to silence you, your lips immediately wrapping around them and obediently sucking to heed his words.

“Just be s’quiet as possible,” his hushed tone came out in a low baritone. He pressed a finger to his lips, pointing another up toward the ceiling from the couch of your parents living room. 

Keeping your arms restrained, your boyfriend’s free hand pushed past your layers of clothes, your saliva coated his fingers, providing just enough slickness to enter your hole with ease, gently curling against that soft spot right inside. You were so warm, so needy, easily molding into his touch as he watched your eyes widen within his. You fixed your mouth to open, but it hung there as his fingers worked, your cunt sucking  them in manically. 

“F-fuck,” you could barely manage that. “Please I-hmph- please…”

“Use yer words, little love,” he cooed, the tone of his voice was sickeningly slow as he teased you, slowing his fingers down. You bucked your hips in protest, pouting and wiggling underneath him to feel some form of friction.

“Stop Squirmin’.” His demeanor shifted immediately, darkening at your perceived disobedience. The hands that held your wrists met your throat, a half gasp escaping you as he gently squeezed, your face softening into a pout. 

“I said- use yer words.”

“Please, please fuck me,” you squeaked. “F-fill me up.”

“Then we gotta find a way t’keep ya nice n’ still. Will you be good fer me?”

You nodded. You always were. Osamu’s ability to render you a compliant, malleable toy for him to fuck was astounding. You could spend the rest of your life being his obedient little thing without a care in the world or a complaint.

“I know ya will,” he pressed a kiss to your lips. “My little love’s always s’good…” 

You knew you were in for it- but you didn’t expect this. It was a little different from your normal setup, but at the same time, the rush of excitement built in the pit of your stomach just as it did the first time ‘Samu ever bound you. It just so happened that there were some discarded lights nearby the Christmas tree. You could see the glimmer of an idea in his eyes as he plugged them in, smiling as the glow lit up his face. He looked at you on the couch and wiggled his eyebrows- as much as you wanted to laugh out loud, you weren’t in the position to be picky about your rigging tonight. You had to make do. 

“It’s…. festive?” You could tell that even he was amused. But amusement aside, the desire that built between you, the stored tension of having not touched each other for almost two days now was clearly screaming to be addressed. His large hands made a bite in the wiring of the lights and they quickly found themselves around your wrists, the illumination beautiful, but also kind of blinding this close to your face. With a kiss to your lips, he moved from your wrists and down toward your torso, trailing an interesting track of holiday cheer into a harness around your chest and tying in your back. Your arms were bent forward at the elbow, snugly enough so that you could wiggle your fists, but your wrists were of no use.

 Pushing you onto your knees, you felt the press of your boyfriend’s hand against your back as he repositioned your arms and elbows to place you on all fours. Cool air immediately hit the skin of your lower half as you felt him pull your bottoms off. You wriggled your hips in an effort to help, but instead your flesh was met with an aggressive strike. Managing to catch your discomfort in your throat, a lowered hiss bared through your gritted teeth, soon followed by a sharpened inhale as you felt the presence of him towering over you. 

“Been thinking about the way those cute lips were wrapped around that straw all night,” he panted, palming his cock through his sweats. You could see how uncomfortably hard he was- it lit a fire in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t wait to serve him, you couldn’t wait to feel the weight of his thick cock against your tongue- and stretching your pussy past it’s limits.

“I bet’cher sweet mouth wrapped around my cock would look even prettier, don’t ya think?” 

His words hit at your core. Your mouth began to water in anticipation as he pulled himself out of his sweats, gently pumping before lining up at your mouth. 

Delicately, your tongue swirled down the slit of the head, plush lips wrapping around the pink bulb. Osamu’s hands guided your head down the length, drool sliding out of your mouth and down your  chin, where it dripped onto your chest, riddled with bright multicolored light. Slowly, he fucked himself with your throat, allowing you to adjust to his girth. 

“Yep,” he exhaled deeply, hissing at how warm your mouth felt around him.

 “Ev’n prettier.”

 His motions sped up as he bobbed your head up and down, the slight saltiness of his precum going down easily, leaving you practically begging for a full load.  You always craved him on your tongue- he tasted much better than any diner milkshake could. The soft gargling of his assault on your throat slowed to a stop as he pulled you off, leaving you gasping for air. Licking the drool from the corners of your lips, Osamu kissed you passionately before throwing your bound body onto the couch.

You clenched haphazardly around his cock as soon as he entered you, head flying forward with the force of his thrusts. His arm held you upright, parallel to his chest as his cock pistoned in and out of your hole. 

“‘S-sa-ah!~ ‘Samu- ffuck!” Your eyes snapped shut as he fucked into you. His breathy grunts resounded deep in your ears, sending jolts of molten lust down your spine, chest heaving as you tried keeping your voices down. Your hot, wet cunt sucked him in deeper and deeper each time he entered you- your urge to milk him for everything he had was only made more apparent by it. 

“I can feel you baby,” He purred into your ear. “So fucking wet.” 

Osamu released you from his hold, letting you fall forward into the couch, one hand pushing your head into the cushions, the other roughly kneading at the flesh where your ass and hip met, digging his nails into the flesh as he began to carnally pound into your pussy. Each stroke hit your sweet spot with a ridiculously precise skill. Your muffled sobs echoed into the cushions of the couch as he drilled you, never once slowing the rate in which his hips snapped into yours. You wouldn’t be surprised if the smacking of his skin against yours woke your parents at this rate- you couldn’t be bothered to care with your orgasm this close to the horizon. 

Somehow you managed to free a hand from your twinkling ties, immediately pushing it to your clit to rub it feverishly. The squelching started up shortly after, your ears beginning to ring as your throat squealed itself raw into the deep void beneath you. Osamu pulled you back by your hair, pressing his lips to your ear and clasping a hand to your mouth.

“Keep rubbing that pretty pussy, sweet girl, so fucking close to cumming fer me, aren’t ya?”

You could only whine in response. He softened the hand on your mouth, muffled words spilling out.

“I’m gonna cu-ah-cum! Please let me cum!” 

“Hmmm? Gonna cum? Did I hear ya right, little love?” He knew what he was doing, egging you on like this.

You were mere milliseconds away from losing it, the edge pulling up to you so close that you could barely collect yourself as you began to feel yourself slip over it- eyes whiting out as Osamu gave you the go-ahead. 

“Just let me c-” he finished your sentence for you.

“Cum.” It was a simple word, a simple command. But the way it hit your ears: the way the low growl tore through your body- you didn't stand a chance. The warm wetness of your release sprayed against his abs, trickling down your thighs and pooling into the upholstery. Your eyes crossed, face contorting further into lewd bliss as a scream tried to escape your mouth- but only silence hiccuped its way out. 

“Good fucking girl- now take this, baby. Take it all…” God, he was the devil. 

Fucking you through it- your boyfriend chased his own high, cock twitching inside as the vision of you wrapped in lights blurring into colorful stars as he spilled into you, his load coating your insides with a mass of sticky, soothing heat. You both collapsed into each other, bodies writhing as you caught your heavy breaths. 

As he slipped out of you, Osamu lifted your hips to his mouth, sucking in the mixture of his and your own release, savoring it on his tongue. Your puffy, fucked-out cunt spasmed at the contact, the sensation overwhelming as you tugged at his steely grey locks, snapping his head back. 

“Hmmph-  s’too much ‘Samu!” Your thighs clamped together as soon as he released you.

Humming a soft apology, he moved up from your lower lips to the upper ones, pushing his tongue past them, spitting arousal across your tongue. You swallowed the mixture greedily, smiling against his lips. You could still feel ropes of cum pouring from your spamming hole and leaking onto your thighs.

“Whaddaya think?” The words were slurred against the skin at the crook of your neck while he peppered your skin with kisses.

“Delicious.” You looked at him with a smirk, mind still hazy as your body shook its way through a few more aftershocks. 

“Told ya I could make a better milkshake.”

 As he said it, laughter broke out between the two of you. Your chest struggled against the harness, as it was still pretty tight. Osamu unplugged the decorations, gently untying you as snow fell outside your living room window, the faint jingling of bells filling the room again as the tv light illuminated you both. 

 Taglist Starseeds (check ur privacy settings if your url is in bold): @honey-makki @crushzone @yumekosgamblingroom @boujiesav @onesingleravioli @ushijimasfarmhat @trouvelle @nekoma-hoe @right-shoe-jpg @atsumusc0ck @ukeis @nivky0-0 @animoozies @charmarsmith

[mellow-em]

Bittersweet Temptations

CHAPTER 3

[special dts: @bluewingedangel @siennamariia <3]

Your neighbors, Nathan and Elena, have been friends with your parents for years. Whether it’d be family gatherings or vacations, they were around; they were family. But when you return home from your final years of college, what will happen when you find that it isn't just them living in the house next door anymore?

_____________________________________

I wanted to say something.

I knew based on the long expressions plastered across their faces, that they were waiting impatiently for me to say something too.

But I physically couldn’t.

A knot cemented itself at the back of my throat, suffocating me as I tried to swallow. I could feel my mouth suffer through a drought as I did so.

All I could do was look at the three of them, internally wallowing in embarrassment with a load of questions making my head spin.

How could Nate and Elena keep something like that from me? What were they thinking? No. What was I thinking?

Suddenly, the voices of people scattered amongst the yard became too loud. Though, the stares directed towards me were louder.

“Y/n can you say something?”

Without even thinking, I felt my body turn away from them, and I carried myself away.

“Y/n?” I could hear Elena calling after me.

“I’ll just be a minute” I finally croaked back to her, relieved that I could finally get a word out.

I rushed past the deck towards the side of the house.

I knew in the back of my mind that I was being ridiculous. It wasn’t something to run away from; knowing they probably felt just as awkward telling me.

But I had to get away from Sam.

I couldn’t bear standing there while his smug grin could be seen in the corner of my eye.

It was driving me crazy.

Why does he insist on making this hard on me?

I continued to let my feet travel, not even worried about where I would end up. It felt good to step away from the chaos that my parents organized, for a while anyway.

But I soon found myself at the dead end of the street, in front of the wooded patches that lined the edges of the pavement; sectioning off the neighborhood from the forest.

Without any hesitation, I stepped past the barricading trees, and onto the trail that led to a place of sanctuary.

A small body of water sat on the indented ground, with blooming ferns and bushes fencing it. Farther away from the pond, large rocks collected together, forming makeshift seats to take in the atmosphere.

It looked like it belonged in a cheesy disney movie, or a landscape renaissance painting.

I found this place with Nate when I was little, and since then I would escape here when things become too much to handle.

I sat myself down on one of the largest slabs of rock, almost seeing the memories with Nate passing around me in the form of faded visuals; they were almost ghost-like.

I took myself into these moments one by one; succumbing to the laughter, the playfulness, the smiles, the thrill.

Even though I love my parents more than anything, the bundles of memories Nate and I shared, showed me a glimpse of adventure that my parents couldn’t give me.

The overwhelming feeling of contentment pushed a smile onto my face.

But in an instant, it all faded.

Sam.

That one moment with him feasted on my conscious mind like a ravenous vulture. It made my stomach churn in the worst possible way.

I sunk my head into my hands, huffing in frustration.

That is, until I heard a few raucous cracks of leaves and sticks not too far from me.

I fix my posture while whipping my head towards the direction of the noise, only to be met with guilty eyes.

Nathan stood there, leaning his upper body on the stiff trunk of a tree.

Perfect timing, Nate..

My lips flatlined as I scratched at the corner of my forehead, “Hey.”

He steps closer, leisurely but surely.

“Hey,” he gestures to the vacant space next to me, “can I?”

“Yeah.”

Placing both of his hands on his thighs, he plops down next to me, slightly grunting. We sat there in silence; but it wasn’t peaceful, it was impatient.

The both of us were longing to say something to one another, but neither of us preferred confrontation in the slightest. So we sat there, staring at the grove.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been here.”

I look over to him, noticing the tinge of nostalgia sketched upon his features.

“uh yeah.. yeah it really has,” I release a breath, reverting my eyes back to the pond, “almost 5 years.”

It was two days before I left for college. Screaming echoed throughout the house, and reverberated through my head, overwhelming my senses.

My parents chalked it up to being stressed over ‘my big move,’ which I can believe. But the words said that day pushed its way through me. I finally had enough of the nonsense and hollered back at them.

Big mistake. ‘you’re an absolute failure’ They said, ‘you’re never gonna go far.’

Long story short, I ran out of the house, and into the forest. I sat on this same rock, with tears planting glistening streams down my face.

Nate apparently heard the commotion, which wasn’t too surprising, and he made his way to me.

He didn’t even say a word before wrapping his arms around me; embracing me with a comforting warmth that slowly eased me back to normal.

‘Sic Parvis Magna,’ He said.

I was more than confused with those few words, until he began to speak once more.

‘Greatness from small beginnings. Now this isn’t exactly small, you know, with you leaving me here to go to college and all. But it is a new beginning- your new beginning. Don’t let anyone stop you from moving forward.’

That was the last day I saw this beautiful spot of ours, and the last time I really had a solid conversation with Nate; it made the final memory bittersweet at best.

“It really hasn’t changed a bit though.”

“Probably because change is dining elsewhere,”I tried to whisper under my breath, but unfortunately, he heard me loud and clear.

I look up at him in the corner of my eye, noticing his presence fall into a sea of guilt again.

He runs his hand through his surprisingly neatened hair, letting out a sigh that releases all of his proper posture.

“Look, y/n, I wanted to tell you. I really did. But it’s just-”

“Nate all I gotta ask is why? Why would you keep something that major from me?”

I had my body fully turned to face him now, while he still remained there; slouched with his head bowed to his fidgety hands.

I could tell he was stalling, swallowing his responses with force.

“Nate. Just tell me. Please.”

His eyes closed as he exhaled, “It’s a very long story.”

“I’ve got plenty of time.”

“Not exactly.” Roars of laughter within the distance cause both of us to look at the trail leading out of the woods, “we’ve still got a party going on, which happens to be for you, if I may add-”

“Seriously Nate, you think I care?” I was growing fretful, mentally pleading for him to just give up on excuses.

His hands raised in defense, “Fine, fine, okay..”

———

It didn’t even occur to us how long we’d been out here until the streams of sunlight disappeared from the ruptures in between the trees. The day was just replaced with the beginning of nightfall.

“So you’re telling me that Sam, your brother...who was presumed dead for 15 years, dragged you out across the globe to find Henry Avery’s treasure in 3 months because a drug lord was gonna kill him if you didn’t?”

Nate stifled a low chuckle, nodding along.

“So I take it you found it and gave the son of a bitch his cut? Well, since he’s alive and all-”

“Hey, language missy.” He attempted a scolding tone, but I could see through his thin facade.

I rolled my eyes, shoving him playfully,“Haha very funny. Now answer the question mister.”

“Well, it turns out the son of a bitch was Sam. He uh- lied about the whole thing.”

My eyes widened, “Wait what? So the drug lord- the sole purpose of the treasure hunt..”

“Yep it was all bullshit.”

I averted my wide-eyed gaze from him to the pond that was now lit with the blaring lights of fireflies,“Wow. I’m surprised no one got the chance to kick him in the face.. or balls.”

“Yeah Rafe- he pretty much took care of that one..”

The both of us laughed, causing a few birds to flutter away from the branches closest to us.

I missed this.

“Figured I’d find you two here.”

As our fit died down, we glanced over to a beaming Elena emerging from the trail with her arms crossed over her chest.

“I told your parents that you were comin’ over with us. I assumed you wanted some space from all the chaos.”

I showed my relief in the form of a warm simper, up until the realization punched me in the face.

Sam is gonna be there.

My body tensed, becoming a stiff statue in place. The lack of saliva in my mouth was back, and I felt my breath hitch silently.

I guessed the two of them noticed my change in demeanor.

“Are you okay y/n? You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Elena’s tone was gentle, as her grin faltered slightly.

“No no it’s fine it’s just- it’s nothing don’t worry,”I abruptly stood up, scratching at my forehead again, “lets go, back.”

“You sure?,” I felt Nate’s arm fall over my shoulders, giving me a faint squeeze as the three of us trudged down the path.

I needed to take my mind off of Sam, hopefully I can avoid him.

“Yeah..” my voice trailed off, “as long as I get to play a certain game that I happened to have the highest score of.” walking confidently with my head held high, I could still see Nate rolling his eyes.

“Actually, Elena has since claimed that title for herself.” Nate said frankly.

A dramatic gasp escapes my lips,“Elena, are you kidding me!”

“Hey, don’t get mad at the pregnant lady here,” she looks back at Nate and I as we continue to walk down the trail, “how about this: you two compete to try and beat my high score.”

Nate looks down at me with the same contemplative look I give him.

“And what’s the catch, hun?” Nate asks.

“Loser gets pushed or thrown into the pool.”

Well well well, Elena’s finally getting in on our shenanigans.

I smirked, “This is gonna be light work.”

“Oh really now? I just know you’re secretly afraid that I’m gonna win.”

“Sure, Nate. I’m not gonna lose, you’re all bark and no bite.”

It was his turn to let out a theatrical breath,“How dare you accuse me of such a thing?”

While Nate and I went on with our child like banter, Elena laughed hysterically at our foolishness,“You two are absolutely ridiculous.”

Nate glances back at me, only this time his fist patiently waited in front of me for a fist bump, “you ready to get destroyed?”

I scoff, hitting my fist on his, “You’re on.”

[notmrskennedy]

Bites and Bullet Holes

(Spencer Reid x Female leaning but sorta GN! Reader)

Summary: Spencer, during college, was bitten by a dog. Working a case involving dogs brings back old memories and friends...

W/C: 3,384

Warnings: Dog bites, bullet holes, bad writing? 

A/N: Guess what I found y’all? I haven’t edited it one single bit but I hope it goes over well anyway. When I was working at the kennel I kept having anxiety over one of my kids getting into a fight so I made this. Be a little extra gentle with this one. 

---

As he leaned over the victim, he made the mistake of thinking about you. Spencer thought he’d gotten over it. The whole randomly thinking about you thing—the thing that’s happened too many times before. He’d chalked it up to you being best friends 15 years ago. Told himself that it’s normal to miss your friends from college. 

But over a dead body? This was new. 

Though he supposes the dead girl could’ve looked like you in another timeline. There’s facial structure similarities—at least to you 15 years ago at 19. She’s been strangled with her dog’s leash and there’s some unspoken quality about her that just…jerks him into nostalgia over you. 

(You are probably the one that got away, but if he’s being honest, you live in DC. He could go see you right now if he wanted to.)

Morgan leans over Spencer and points at the dog leash. “It had to be someone she knew if the dog went off with our un-sub.”

Spencer nods, fidgeting with the 15 year old scars on the inside of his wrist. Whether or not Morgan noticed, he thankfully doesn’t press. Spencer is having enough trouble stamping down that knee-jerk reaction to think about you, let alone if Derek thinks to point out the magical, ‘hey weren’t you bitten by a dog?’

Spencer doesn’t remember the incidence well enough to comment. He wonders if you do. 

“We’ll have to check shelters for the dog,” Spencer remarks. “3.3 million dogs enter shelters every year in the US.” 

Morgan nods, pulls off a glove, pulls out his phone. Spencer looks around the park. Behind the police tape are plenty of people walking their dogs. The sorts of breeds that you’ve gushed about 15 years ago. His brain knew too much about dobermans, shepherds, mallinois—he could even hear that pretty little gasp you had when you’d point out a particularly well trained monster of a pet. 

Spencer wonders if you ever did anything with your finance degree, if you even ended up finishing college at all. You’d come close to dropping out over calculus—he hadn’t been around long enough to help you through the even harder stuff. This wasn’t the first time he’d wanted Garcia to look you up, but it was the first time he’d considered it. 

“Music to my ears, mama,” Morgan laughs into the phone and Spencer tunes back in. 

“I’ll get that puppy BOLO out,” Garcia chirps back. Spencer can imagine her wringing a fluffy pencils through her fingers. “We’re going to find this doggie and make sure that psycho didn’t get him too.”

Spencer smiles despite himself. Penelope would’ve liked you. 

#

JJ sets coffee down in front of his stack of files. She smiles, gracefully sits down next to him. Spencer tries his best to ignore her insistence. Tries to ignore the ever prominent eye contact screaming ‘We’re going to talk about something uncomfortable!’ 

“So, Spence,” she says, pausing for his attention with a sip of her own coffee. He looks up for half a glance before going back to the files. He doesn’t know why, but he’s sure there’s something in this stack of work the first victim had brought home with her. They all knew the un-sub, he had to be somewhere. 

“Spencer,” she says more insistently. He makes the mistake of looking up, of letting her place a hand on his. She gently turns the wrist over and pointedly glances towards the teeth marks. “Are you doing okay?”

He opens his mouth, but decides some things are better kept to himself. He thinks about saying that no, he wasn’t alright, that being plagued by thoughts of the first-love-of-his-life is haunting him more than the dog fight. 

That he can see your face in each of these victims. In their dogs. In the places they died. 

Dogs didn’t like him. They never did. The dog bite wasn’t the big deal out of the altercation. 

JJ won’t understand, so he offers her a truthful smile and says, “I’m okay. Seriously. More than 4.5 million people are bitten by dogs each year. I’m not special.”

JJ nods. Spencer goes back to his files. He forgets to hide his lovesick agony. JJ forgets not to notice. 

#

It’s 4AM and he knows he’s remembering it wrong. That the dog hadn’t been that big. That the teeth hadn’t really gotten him that bad. The bright red devil eyes and thousand yards of slobber were more than grossly incorrect. 

He sits up in bed and forces himself to remember the parts that were real. How real you had been. Before and after. 

Your car had broken down as you were leaving for work—already late—and you’d begged him for a ride. Promised calculus homework on your boss’s couch and only having to let the dogs out. No shit. No bleaching crates. No nothing. Just you, him, and some calculus homework. 

He’d caved. Now, running his hands over his eyes, he laughs at how obvious he had to have been. A skinny little 19 year old pimple of a boy majorly crushing on the first person to pick him out of a crowd and decide they’d be friends. The first friend who’d forced him to a tailgate at a football game. The only person he’d do absolutely anything for. 

And it was just like you promised. Your cute little nose wrinkle. Your horribly frustrated glares. Your over dramatic ‘I’m dropping out!’s every fifteen minutes. And it’d been great until you both heard a thunderous snap of a wooden fence and the wildest, most murderous howling he’d ever heard. 

You’d both bolted for the door, scrambling to get through the gates into the back. There’d been a moment of calm. Another beat. Another. And…you both had stumbled around the corner to find the next door neighbour’s dog, broken chain, trying to kill one of the kennel’s dogs. 

There had been no moment’s hesitation on Spencer’s part. He’d stupidly rushed forward, lodged his hand between the neighbour’s mutt and the sweetest dog he’d ever met. He’d yanked her free from the mutt’s jaws, only to find his own wrist dragging along the teeth. 

(He realised later that he’d always had a propensity to run head first into danger. No calculations needed.)

There’d been two beats for the dog to process it’s chew toy was in Spencer’s arms. To process that Spencer made a better victim. That Spencer’s throat and limbs were softer and easier to tear. Thankfully, he’d scrambled back enough that when the dog launched, it didn’t catch flesh. It chomped on air. Less than three inches from him. 

Fangs. Tightened lips. Black gums. Slobber. 

The mutt could be equated to Stephen King’s The Sun Dog. Always hesitant to process his trauma, it’s the one book—gifted by you during a Halloween birthday for him—that sits untouched on his bookshelves. There’s too much of you in the inscription in the cover. Too much of that horrible mutt in the pages. 

The next part of the night blurred in his memories. In his near perfect memory, it blurred. Trauma, right? 

You’d screamed. You were in front of him. You had the dog’s chain in your hands. He was running. The dog was heavy in his arms. His arm stung. You were screaming. He should’ve gone back. 

Five god-awful minutes later, you’d come into the house. Limping. Clutching onto your arm. You’d taken one look at Spencer running his wrist under the tap and forgotten about your own injuries. Despite the blood dripping off your arm. Or the quiet yelp every time you stretched. You’d barely taken ‘I’m fine, you’re the one bleeding’ as a reason to not bandage him up first. 

The only thing that calmed down the dream every time he had it was the memory of holding your hand while you got stitches. How your face pinched with the pain. How you’d said, ‘next time, it’s your turn to take the bullet.’ How he’d smiled and promised. 

Spencer watches the clock tick by and decides it’s too late to go back to sleep. Hotch’ll be up in an hour. No need to delay his start. Women were dying. Women you would’ve been friends with.

#

“Okay, crime-fighters, I found our connection,” Garcia chirps over the speaker phone. “All of our victims attended very specialised dog training courses at a facility just outside of DC. The owner said they’d send in one of their trainers to talk to you. Should be there anytime now.”

“What kind of specialised training?” Emily asks. Spencer feels like he should be contributing, should be processing any of this, but his head is pounding. He doesn’t have a hangover, but god does it feel like it. 

Garcia hums as she types. “It’s a military facility. Awww, they’ve got puppy pictures on their website!”

“Garcia—“

“Right, right. It’s a top notch facility and oh! A bunch of the FBI dogs graduate from there. I wonder if they get little caps and gowns and—“

“Hey, baby girl, the trainer’s here. We gotta run,” Morgan interrupts, though he’s all smiles to stare at whomever is plaguing his interest. 

There’s another squeal of please get puppy pictures before the call cuts and Spencer finally has the self preservation to look. And god does he look. 

15 years has made no difference on your skin and he can’t believe he’s not staring at you from across a lecture hall. The only indication you’ve changed is the nervous smile you’ve plastered on and the dog at your side. Every fun fact about german shepherds instantly crosses his mind and he can’t help but drop his jaw a little further. 

It sinks to the floor when you spot him and wave. You wave. At him. In front of coworkers. 

He’s out of his seat before he can stop himself. That easy smile reserved for movie nights falls back into place on your lips. Twinkles in your eyes. 15 years haven’t passed. Maybe he needs to check for pimples again. 

“Y/n,” he croaks and the same time his name leaves your lips. The dog at your side stands and you correct the gesture with a harsh word in what he’s sure is German. 

“FBI, huh?” Your eyes trail over every inch of him, crossing your arms in a relaxed, familiar kind of way. “I expected more math, Mr. I Like Derivatives.”

“The shepherd there doesn’t look like finance either, y/n,” he teases back like no time has passed. Like he doesn’t immediately feel incredibly guilty for ditching you for the academy. 

“Oh come on,” you huff, “you really think that I was cut out for an office job? I lasted six months.”

And before he can warn you, even think about warning you about the team that’s slowly creeping up behind him, they are all suddenly there. Very keen on knowing the ins and outs of how you know Dr. Spencer Reid. 

“Reid, you gonna introduce us?” Morgan smirks, clapping a painful hand on Spencer’s shoulder. You busy yourself with petting the dog at your hip, looking everywhere but Morgan’s insistent gaze. 

“Guys, this is my friend y/n from college.” 

JJ raises an eyebrow at the lack of explanation, but plows ahead with introductions. Takes charge of guiding you to an interview room. Gets through the entire interview without once asking about your relationship with him. 

Morgan watches Spencer rubbing the scars and makes the leap. “You okay, kid?” 

Spencer breaks from staring at your face as you talk about getting your start in Germany—Germany—and swallows. This was fine. It’s okay to tell his friend—his brother—about the story he’s never really talked about. 

“I stupidly put myself in the middle of a dog fight,” Spencer grits out, flexing and un-flexing his fingers. Every scar burns and he can’t help but stare at your smile again. “Y/n saved my life. She choked out the dog, Morgan, before he got a hold of me. Left the hospital with 12 stitches.”

“Oh,” was his all too helpful response. They both turned back to the interview. How everything jovial about your entire countenance shifted once JJ started mentioning the victims. 

“Look, Agent Jareau,” you say, leaning dangerously far away from the conversation, “They are—they were really smart women with some dangerous dogs. I don’t know—I just—there’s a lot of sickos out there.”

Every profiler within a 20 mile radius can hear the change in tone, can hear the fear. Spencer knows a lot can change in 15 years, but he thought for sure you’d never become a serial killer. He doesn’t know if it’s all his years in the bureau or if he’s still too attached to you, but you don’t seem like the killer. Not like JJ seems to think so. Sure, you’re terrified, but the dog you have is nosing your arm. Giving you big ole puppy eyes. Spencer doesn’t think a serial killer can pour that much into a relationship with an animal. 

“What do you mean?” JJ clocks the movement and switches to a maternal type of body language, tone. “Is there something going on?”

Your hand pauses on the dog’s head, and it noses your hand into action. “I, uh, just got a weird letter two weeks ago. It wasn’t—it was just weird. Off-putting.”

“Right before the first victim,” Spencer mutters. Weird letters indicated stalking. Victims with you as a central point meant stalking. Stalking meant you were probably next. Oh, god, you were next. 

JJ stretched a hand across the table and took yours. “You’ll get through this. You’ll get through this, y/n.”

#

Spencer didn’t know what to do with his hands. It was so much worse than normal. Should he stand? But what should he do with his hands because crossing them seemed too defensive? Or should he just sit down? But where? And was that rude?

Instead, he just took the cup of tea you offered and followed you like a lost puppy. Granted, it was your house and he was definitely lost. He also felt vaguely at home—there were a decent amount of bookshelves by his standards and even more mismatched furniture than he had. The house was well cared for and when you sat him down on your couch, you swept away a stack of training manuals, all sporting worn covers. 

Was it wrong to feel like he was settling onto your old apartment couch for movie nights?

You puff out a breath of air and lean your head dramatically into the back of the couch. “So, since you’re my FBI escort, is it wrong to ask if you still like cheesy 90s movies?”

He shakes his head. Grins. “You still have Legally Blonde?”

You just giggle as you head for a stack of movies. You strike up some conversation as you rummage and he knows he’s hooked all over again. It’s going to take weeks to get over you again. It’d taken months the last time, and he feels slightly less attached this time. But did he really think it would take more than a simple question about the latest thing he’s read? He wishes he knew you better, just as well as you seem to still know him. 

Though by the end of the movie, you’ve both returned to your college days. Practically curled into each other’s side. You still have horrible commentary about the movie, peppered in with Spencer’s annoying movie trivia. If it was anyone else, he figures, he would’ve been kicked out long ago. 

You still distinctly smell of vanilla, flailing the scent around as you move closer and further and closer again. You wear enthusiasm with your whole body and if you aren’t turning rapidly between facing Spencer and the movie, how could you possibly begin to explain correctly? 

Your shoulder keeps a constant pressure against his, your knees half over his thigh. There’s too many instances of hollering and laughing that you grab onto his knee to steady yourself. If this hadn’t been a protective detail, he might’ve lost his mind. 

Thank god for focus. Work. Work. Work. Not your hands on his knee. Definitely not your smile as you declare your affection for scented resume stationary. Totally not how hot it’s getting under your too affectionate gaze. 

“Spence, I really missed this,” you whisper, nudging your shoulder with his. “I know it’s weird to be thrown together after 15 years, but I—I missed you.”

“I—“ missed you too; fell in love with you in college; think I love you now. 

But there’s no time for heartfelt declarations when someone’s incessantly banging on the door. Spencer’s got half a mind to get the door for you, holster his gun, focus on keeping you safe. The banging doesn’t soften as he calls out that he’s on his way. If anything it gets worse. 

And it should’ve been the first red flag of the night. 

Spencer opens the door and thinks very loudly, “why the fuck do I always run headfirst into danger?” 

Their un-sub, a buzzcut that looks more Army that not, shakes a pistol at Spencer and demands to be let inside. There’s only so many ways to defuse the situation, so he back ups, tucks you behind him. Their un-sub winds a little tighter, shaking like one of those monkeys with cymbals. 

“McLaggen?” you whimper behind Spencer and the Army man fires a shot into the floor. You grip tighter onto Spencer’s shirt, digging in your fingers dangerously close to his skin. 

The buzzcut is red, boiling over with rage, words bubbling out of his throat. “Y/n, I just can’t stand to see you with them. You never notice me. You’re always working, so I thought I’d get your attention. Cut the competition. I just—you mean so much to me, y/n. You mean too much.”

Spencer is sure he won’t remember this day accurately as he pushes you just a little further behind him. He’s about to do something so incredibly stupid. Dear lord, why the fuck is he like this? And he lunges. 

The gun’s trapped in both of their hands. There’s one more bullet fired—at the ground he’s sure. There’s a squeak of fear. Just enough of a distraction. One more ounce of weight thrown around. One more lasting punch. McLaggen lands on the floor. The gun skitters away. McLaggen groans as he’s handcuffed.

You gasp and he realises immediately that he’s bleeding. That he’s on the floor. That there is a bullet lodged in his thigh. Again. 

One string of swears later, you’re on the phone with 911. Yes, he’s shot. Yes, there’s another in handcuffs. No, I’m not a whore, send the damn ambulance.  

You take his hand as he lays there, much like he did in the hospital 15 years ago. Unlike then, you’ve got tears pricking at your eyes. You’re sniffling like a school girl, and he’s not sure if you’ve said that aloud. 

“Spencer!” You wipe a stray tear. Squeeze his hand too tightly. “Why the hell, you freakin’ moron, did you take a bullet for me?”

He laughs, bubbling up out of his chest before he can stop it. You are too pretty to be this upset at his laughter. You are too lovely to be worried about him. To still be worried, like nothing has changed one bit. 

Every inch of him is trembling. Blood loss and bullets are bitches.

“Y/n,” he wheezes through dry lungs and more leg pain than he remembers there being, “I promised.”

You blink your eyes. What the hell are you talking about, Spencer Reid, you absolute idiot?

“I promised I’d take the next bullet. In the hospital.” He grins, groans as he moves to drag you into a hug. “I’m a man of my word, y/n, and I promise that if I keep the leg, we’re going out. Properly.”

“You’re lucky I like you,” you grumble into his ear and squeeze his neck tighter. If the paramedics don’t bother to pull you off, who’s to say you won’t stay like that forever? Attached to the loveable, danger prone idiot, who traded dog bites for bullet holes?

[monkey-network]

Why Klaus IS Christmas Kino

Klaus isn’t flawless, let’s get this out the way. My love for this film won’t deny that it bears a couple nits that can distract the experience. Jesper and Alva’s relationship felt like an eye-rolling inevitability, notable cliches here & there, a notable song felt both fitting and out of place, and while enjoyable, I’m not as big a fan of the climax as I thought. But in spite of it all, I love this film and it is one of the best modern animated Christmas films, period? Follow me here. I could go on about its wonderful animation cuz yeah, it’s unlike any other film. But a philosophy of mine is that the best animation enhances the writing and I can say Klaus is that surprisingly well written and has become an all time Christmas fave

*deep breath in* So let’s do this...

I mention that Klaus has its cliches, but you gotta know that it’s smarter than expected. Believe me when I say if the writers didn’t care, this could’ve actually been so much worse. Jesper could’ve been more manipulative towards everyone for his goals, Klaus would’ve given up entirely after knowing the truth about Jesper, we could’ve had an argument between Jesper and his dad about upholding business, the townsfolk could’ve reverted back to their old ways, plenty writing moments where this could’ve been Emoji Movie levels of insulting to your intellect. BUT, they don’t. The film never really turns back on itself, it keeps moving where, as the notable quote goes, an act of good will sparks another as it starts with Jesper’s father.

Even if nepotism was responsible for Jesper getting the job in the first place, he clearly sees his son be more spoiled than he’s worth so is like, “Ma boi, I will send you to the ends of the earth or leave you to the streets if you don’t do something with yourself.” He never cared about his son representing the postal company, or ruining his top class image, he was only tired of Jesper taking advantage of his fortune while not having any ambition of his own. Can’t help but say Jesper’s dad is a very respectable character because the sole reason the whole plot happened in the first place was because he just wanted his son to do better. It’s that act of genuine consideration that pushes Jesper to his wake up call as he reaches Smeerensburg.

People have compared this movie to Emperor’s New Groove through Jesper’s character and I say yes, but this film takes that next step and put Jesper in the pit of pits way early. Reminds me more of Ratatouille’s beginning where Remy’s lowest point is around the same time as Jesper’s. The harsh atmosphere of the island is treated very blunt in how this is our mailman’s nightmare come true. With his situation, our guy is truly at his lowest. Gives up now, he’ll be cut off his inheritance and probably will have worse. Everyone hates him and each other, his post office itself is in shambles, symbolic of how communication is practically thin outside conflict, and the teacher turned fish seller Alva is that path Jesper could notably be if he didn’t try. Everything is literally grey for this guy, but like Ratatouille, when you’re at your lowest there’s no where else to go but up. That’s where Klaus comes in...

This is genuinely the most clever interpretation of Santa I know, hands down. A well established woodsman, a crafter both of living, for him and the birds that reside in his woods, and recreation with the toys he made himself not just for kids, but specifically the kids he and his wife wanted but couldn’t have. Klaus feels like a real person, not just another take on the mythical man. You’re with him and Jesper as he, after familiar winds provide him a letter, a small spark to do something good, soon opens up and gets reminded of what’s kept him going all these years. It is no wonder he sees his wife in Jesper, it’s thanks to him that he could refurbish his dashed dream into a new one. He didn’t just want to do it for the children of the island, but for himself. That is another thing about this film: communication. I mention before how it’s practically thin at first due to a long going feud that isn’t even aware of why it’s still going. The joy in hate is only for hatred’s sake, and they make it very clear how miserable it all feels. That is where Jesper comes in. They don’t take shortcuts with how he gets the ball rolling, both accidentally and purposefully, he boots up to get things done, pushes himself to go to Klaus to make things happen. This is all in part by the youth, what really ties the plot together...

As I mentioned before (again), life in Smeerensburg is noticeably miserable but thanks to Klaus, by extension Jesper, the kids are enticed to do what it takes to get some genuine joy in their lives through the toys they’re able to get. They’ll make them letters, and if they can’t write, they’ll go to Alva for teachings, and if they act naughty, they’ll try to do good which in turn pushes the adults to do good for the sake of their kids. It really would’ve been one thing to sure enough make the kids spoiled because of the toy giving, focusing more on the extrinsic value of Klaus’s kindness but no. The children are very grateful for these gifts enough to feel compelled to do good, and it makes them feel good as much as it soon makes the adults more convinced to stop fighting. It helps that this all takes place in older times cuz I believe this would’ve been far different, possibly worse, if this took place in modern times. That or just kinda rip off Arthur Christmas, it’s my guess. As such, it gradually becomes an amazing Christmas film because it isn’t just the presents, the Santa Claus myth, the festive style of it all that makes this holiday special to me. It’s the warmth... of togetherness.

My favorite detail about Klaus is how it transitions from cold to warm with its atmosphere. We start out with the emptiest, harshest environment, enough fog to choke your eyes, and then we get to this moment with a brighter, clearer sight of the more united town as the Christmas spirit builds in the film, even when it isn’t even that day yet in-universe, so too does the warmhearted feeling that can come from celebrating it appear more and more. This film fleshes out more of what the Grinch taught me, what A Charlie Brown Christmas taught me, what I’ve come to appreciate about Christmas as I grew up in this materialistic world. I can say everyday can have the Holiday spirit, but Christmas is the time where I feel compelled to be grateful of what I’ve made and got and give back when honestly, I don’t care about getting the most expensive stuff anymore like I used to when I was way younger. This film is so sincere in what it wants to say, and you know this is indeed the same guy that made Minions. Yeah, not kidding and I’ll let you sit with that if you’re reading this as I continue because we have to talk about that moment...

Yeah, I don’t like being the Nostalgia Critic, but I too don’t take kindly to the ‘liar reveal’ trope myself and this could’ve been a point where the film lost me a little. Though you know what? It still works. See, with that trope, what sucks is that it can tend to unravel the plot to where you know as soon as they break apart, they’ll get back together regardless of the deed done. This is why I don’t like A Bug’s Life, don’t @ me. But I’m not saying it can’t done right, like in Over the Hedge. The breakup between Jesper and the others is painful, but it is necessary to give us a couple great character moments. One is with Jesper and his dad, who came back personally to see that Jesper has indeed built something for himself. We get no dialogue between them but it’s clear that even when Jesper’s unintentionally successful thanks to Yzma and Bubba, he can tell his son wasn’t happy leaving everything behind, so he lets him stay since that was what he truly wanted this whole time. Again, give that man some credit for amazing dad. Another moment comes before the big reveal where not only do we see Jesper come to understand his own guilt surrounding his original intentions, but in the end they never hated him for coming back, especially due to him inadvertently stopping the enemy feud all together. Lastly, without that moment, we probably wouldn’t have got this smile. When Margu, purest character ever that I could make a whole segment about but I don’t wanna keep you too long, started to tear up after calling for Jesper thinking he left for good but she then sees our guy never really left and we get this teary smile:

I felt that. Almost more than anything else in this film.

Cliched as it can appear, the execution excels in those more memorable emotions for this film. It’s been a year since I watched this again and I remember so much about these characters. And my god, I haven’t even gotten to the animation which... my god.

Klaus is indeed the most beautiful upon beautiful films I’ve seen, and what makes it better is that it all enhances the story. I mention before of its transitional visual from cold to warm sights, but goddamn, the character designs, the environments, the expressiveness, the textures all amount to style perfect for this alone. I think it would’ve as well received if it had a more flat look, but they seriously went higher for a traditional appealing story that compliments the unique children’s storybook look of it all. This honestly is better than most of modern Disney films that I’ve seen, ironic since it feels like if you took Tangled the Series and made it 3D with more fluid character animation. And if I’m comparing something to the continuous mindblower that’s Tangled the Series, you’ve most certainly got on my best side.

Sergio Pablos and his team really pulled no punches in making this a great movie. A great Christmas movie, one worth seeing if not at least once but every Holiday season for tradition’s sake. Klaus gave me a good time, made me cry, and above all showed me to never stop having a good heart because doing good can indeed go far, thankless as it can be. Heck, my heart felt more rejuvenated than before in making this critique, that’s a testament to how much good this film means to me personally. What else is there to say?

It's The Best

[mimisempai]

Wait for me on the other side 8/8

Summary:

The long awaited end! Will they finally overcome all the obstacles?

Here we go! Enjoy the journey!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32948254/chapters/82452802

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 (End)

The months and seasons have passed for Mobius and Loki.

Mobius moved out of the house on the cliff and into an apartment above the store. After Ravonna's death, Casey saw no reason to stay in TK and joined Mobius at Miss Minutes.

With his client base expanding, Mobius needed someone to help him and thought of Casey, who had been more than enthusiastic at the idea.

They had formed a curious friendship with Sylvie and life was flowing smoothly.

Casey could see that at times Mobius' eyes seemed lost. His face wore a melancholic expression. But Mobius said nothing, smiled and Casey pretended he hadn't seen anything.

On New Year's Eve 2022, Mobius, Casey and Sylvie were celebrating together and as the fireworks started, Mobius couldn't help but think of other fireworks with nostalgia and wondered what Loki was doing, where and with whom.

January 2021 - Miss Minutes

It was already late and Mobius was hunched over his drawing table, looking focused as Casey poked his head through the door.

"Mobius, I'm going in. I've got it all locked up, you'll just have to close the main door and the blind."

Mobius focused, simply replied, "Hm..."

Casey, seeing that he hadn't been listening, approached and looked over Mobius' shoulder at what he was working on.

"A new project?"

Mobius looked up, a little embarrassed, "Oh. No. It's just... a personal thing."

Casey shifted to get a better look at Mobius' work.

Mobius tried to hide it.

"Mobius, let me see."

"No, it's nothing."

"Come on."

Mobius gave in and Casey's eyes widened at the drawing.

It was the house on the cliff but re-imagined. There was a terrace that ran along the back, and stairs that went down to the water - the stairs that Mobius had described to Loki. There were trees planted along the way, and lights shining in the trees. The house was just as extraordinary as before, but much less austere, much warmer, almost romantic.

Casey said softly, "I like it."

Mobius asked casually, "Do you like it?"

Casey nodded enthusiastically, "Before, it looked like a place you would go to be alone. In this one, I can imagine taking someone there."

Mobius nodded. Casey looked at him with his piercing eyes, and asked softly, "Who is he?"

Mobius answered without hesitation, "Loki. His name was Loki."

"When you lived there?"

Mobius nodded and Casey continued, "I knew it, that there was something or rather someone. What happened?"

Mobius replied simply, "I lost him."

"How?"

Mobius replied with a hesitant voice, "It's hard to explain. It's mostly... it was... bad timing."

"You miss him?"

Mobius couldn't deny it and Casey insisted, "Make him come back."

Mobius ran a hand over his face, "It's too late. Or too soon..."

"What?"

Mobius shook his head, "Nothing. I don't even know where he is. And even if I did, I couldn't walk up to him and say, ``Hey, I'm here, let's pick up where we left off."

Casey defiantly asked him, "What would you have to lose?"

Mobius didn't answer.

**********

Loki was still living in the same place and the tree had continued to grow in front of the building.

He spent a lot of time with Thor, who had apparently decided to take him under his wing.

He was alone, but he had a friend, friends even, that he could count on, and if sometimes one or the other tried to encourage him to date someone, they never insisted.

He devoted his life to his classes, the students liked him a lot, and Kamala who kept coming to see him after class had brought other members of the gang with her, and the discussions around Norse mythology had turned into a reading club.

Early February 2023 - Loki's apartment

Loki had decided to clean up, because in two years, he was starting to pile up things, and it was time to sort out.

He was organizing his clothes when he came across the outfit he had never put back on since the missed date. His throat tightened as he was about to put it in the pile of clothes to be thrown away, but he couldn't bring himself to do it and put it in the back of the closet.

Later, as he was vacuuming, he noticed a creaky floorboard. He bent down to examine it and found that it could be lifted quite easily.

Loki pulled the floorboard and to his surprise, there was an empty space underneath. He bent further to examine it. He saw that there was something there, put his hand to grab it and pulled out a package wrapped in dusty plastic. He opened it. His heart leapt out of his chest, it was his copy of PERSUASION.

One page was marked with a rose, now dried and withered by time. He opened it to the marked page and saw that a sentence had been underlined.

There could have been no two hearts so open,

no tastes so similar, no feelings so in unison.

He stared at the words, breathless.

February 14, 2023 - September Academy

Thor and Loki, along with the other teachers, were sitting in the school's conference room waiting for the presentation to begin.

Thor leaned over to Loki, "Hey, since Jane won't be able to spend this Valentine's Day with me, how about a hallmark movie night with some popcorn and good beer?"

Loki smiled softly, "Sounds good to me, but in the meantime we've gotta get through this presentation."

Just after his words, a short dark-haired man entered the room and took his place on the stage, greeted by Natasha who spoke up, "Hello everyone, thank you for coming. We are pleased to welcome Casey Fish, from Miss Minutes."

Loki startled slightly, the name ringing a bell.

"Casey is here today to introduce us to a new line of electronic organizers for students and teachers, allowing for better communication between the various parties. Thank you for giving him your attention."

Casey cleared his throat and began to speak, "Hello everyone! Thank you for your welcome Ms. Romanov, Miss Minutes is basically a small watch store, but over the years we wanted to expand its business to include time management in all its forms, and its founder had the idea a little over two years ago to create this."

He pointed to the screen that just displayed a small rectangular device, much like a flip phone.

"Let me introduce you to The Tempad. The Tempad, thanks to its small holographic avatar, allows you to be connected at any time with your colleagues, with your students."

He clicked on the remote control to bring up the next image.

"This is Miss Minutes for you."

Loki gasped, of course he knew Miss Minutes, it was exactly like the little picture Mobius had drawn when he had written to him about his store.

Thor, sensing his friend's confusion, leaned toward him and whispered, "Loki? Are you okay?"

Loki nodded.

He listened to the rest of the presentation in a daze, and as Casey was packing up his things on the stage, Loki rushed in without further ado, almost shoving some of his colleagues in his way.

February 14, 2021 - In front of Miss Minutes

Casey and Mobius came out in their winter coats, but they realized it was surprisingly warm.

Mobius growled, "Honestly, what the hell?"

Casey shrugged as he replied, "Global warming."

Mobius asked Casey, "Do you want to come to my house for dinner tonight?"

Casey replied with a small air of pride, "I can't. I have a date tonight, it's Valentine's Day."

Mobius continued forward for a few steps, then stopped.

"What?"

"What, is it so weird that I have a date on Valentine's Day night?"

Mobius looked around. The day was really hot. People everywhere were enjoying the sun. He turned to Casey, a strange look on his face.

"What's the date?"

"Valentine's Day I told you, so it's February 14."

Mobius repeated, "February 14, 2021."

Casey looked at him, curious, "Yeah. What's up with you?"

Mobius with pensive eyes replied, "He told me about today."

"Who? You mean the guy?"

"Yes!" replied Mobius excitedly, "There's a letter that says where he's going to be!"

Casey understood less and less, "He wrote you?"

Mobius nodded quickly, "Yes. I could see him today. You said it the other day...what have I got to lose?"

Casey replied matter-of-factly, "What are you waiting for?"

"I just need to find the letter!"

Mobius ran to his apartment above the store, rummaged through his old boxes, until he remembered that Loki's letters were still in the house on the cliff, in the attic. He looked for the spare keys to the housel, ran to his old pickup and drove off at full speed.

February 14, 2023 - September High-school

" Mister, uh... Casey, can I ask you something. Miss Minutes' founder, who is it?"

Casey, with a surprised look, answered him, clearing his throat, "He's a friend, Mo... Mobius M. Mobius."

Loki repeated, his heart pounding, "Mobius..."

Casey replied, "Yes. Do you... do you know him?"

Loki nodded, "Yes. He... where is he? Could you tell me how I could contact him?"

Casey suddenly looked very sad, "I'm sorry. You don't know?"

"What?"

Casey replied with a tight throat, "He died. Two years ago." He swallowed before resuming, "Two years ago today, in fact, there was an accident..."

Loki, shocked, gasped, then whispered, "Where?"

A few seconds later, Loki ran out of the school and headed for his car under the rain that had started to fall. Thor was behind him, bewildered, and called him, "Loki! Wait! What's going on?"

As he continued to run, Loki told him, 'It's an emergency! I don't have time!"

Thor asked, "Is that him?"

Loki, while running, replied, "Yes!" and heard Thor shout back at him as he climbed into his car, "Go Loki! Get him!"

Loki drove out of the city toward the house, rain pouring down on his windshield. He weaved between lanes, passing cars, driving recklessly, as fast as he could.

House on the cliff - February 14, 2021

Mobius stopped in front of the lake house. It was closed, empty. He ran across the path and unlocked the front door.

House on the cliff - February 14, 2023

Loki arrived at the house and stopped skidding in the rain in front of the mailbox. He pulled out a notepad and began to write, desperately.

House on the cliff - February 14, 2021

Mobius ran to the attic. Inside was the only box he had stored there when he moved out. He opened the box and searched frantically. He found the bundle of letters from Loki. After a few moments, he found the one he was looking for and read it.

Last February, I remember it was Valentine's Day, but it was really hot for a day in February.

I was at the fountain in Valhalheim Square.

He said aloud, "The Valhalheim Square Fountain."

House on the cliff - February 14, 2023

Loki finished writing the note and jumped out of the car. He put it in the mailbox and raised the flag.

He stayed there, and fell to his knees in front of the box, soaked by the rain.

House on the cliff - February 14, 2021

Mobius jumped into his pick-up , and quickly drove away from the house. He passed the mailbox.

Valhalheim Square - February 14, 2021

Loki closed his eyes for a moment, letting the sunlight warm him. Just aware of the surrounding sounds, the water in the fountain, the splashing and laughter of children playing in it, an old man grumbling about global warming, pigeons landing nearby.

Mobius could see the fountain from inside his pickup. He looked for a parking spot, finally found one and jumped out. He started running towards the square.

In his hand he clutched a piece of paper, the words of which echoed in his head.

Dear Mobius.

I know it now... it was you at the fountain that day.

It was you on the square. Please, don't go there.

Something terrible will happen if you go there.

Mobius continued to run toward the fountain.

He stopped at the curb, separated from the fountain by a dense road full of traffic. He looked away, searching for Loki beyond the noisy traffic, among the crowd in the park.

Please don't look for me.

He finally saw him, a distant figure, eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of the sun. He smiled.

Don't try to find me.

They are now only separated by distance.

Don't run to me.

The traffic became less dense and Mobius had a clear view of Loki, straight ahead.

Do you understand? Please. You must wait.

Mobius stepped off the curb, wanting to get closer to Loki.

Forget everything I said before.

We both have to wait.

If you love me and if I love you.

I love you, it's taken me this long to say it but I really love you, so wait for me.

Mobius saw Loki open his eyes, as if drawn in his direction. He looks alarmed.

Wait with me. Wait until time catches up with both of us and we can be together. Please. Just... wait.

House on the cliff - February 14, 2023

Loki soaked, was in tears at the foot of the mailbox and only whispered, "Wait, wait..." and continued to cry.

The rain continues to fall.

Loki, finally, having lost all hope, tried to pull himself together and began, very slowly, to get to his feet.

He looked at the box and gasped, the flag was down.

With trembling hands, he did not dare to open the door and when he did, he saw that his letter was gone.

Valhalheim Square - February 14, 2021

Mobius was standing on the road, straining to see Loki and at the last second, he backed up to the sidewalk, safe. He continued to watch Loki, he desperately wanted to run to him, but he didn't, he folded the letter, put it in his pocket and reluctantly turned and walked away.

House on the cliff - February 14, 2023

Loki looked at the empty mailbox, his face soaked with tears and rain.

A hand came up from behind him and gently closed the box. He slowly turned around.

Mobius stood silently and looked at him, holding the worn letter Loki had just posted. Loki stared at him for a moment, trying to convince himself that this was real.Then Mobius took a step toward Loki and smiled, shyly.

"Have we waited long enough?"

Loki, still shocked, his eyes filled with tears, whispered, "Yes."

Mobius approached again, and smiling more openly this time, brought his hand to Loki's face and wiped a tear with his thumb.Loki rested his head in his palm and then finally they fell into each other's arms, squeezing each other, inhaling each other's scent, prolonging the embrace again and again, making sure it was real. Making sure that each of them was real.

Then Mobius finally pulled back and captured Loki's lips in an endless kiss. For long minutes they separated only to catch their breath before kissing again, over and over again, indifferent to the rain that fell around them.

Much later, they separated to catch their breath and Mobius took Loki's hand to lead him home.

Loki gasped. The house on the cliff had changed.

In the two years of Mobius' life, the life Loki had saved, Mobius had transformed it.

He had brought to life the design he had shown Casey two years ago, with the deck, and the stairway to the water they had talked about, and the trees planted along the path, lit and glowing in the rain.

Loki laughed, astonished, and turning to Mobius he took his face in his hands and kissed him again.

Then they walked together along the path, stopping often to touch and kiss.

As they passed the door, Loki held Mobius by the sleeve, "Wait."

Mobius turned around and couldn't help but touch Loki's face with his fingertips once more.

Loki grabbed his hand and interlaced his fingers with Mobius' as he said softly, "I don't want to wait to tell you for real this time." He paused and with a trembling smile and bright eyes, he told him, "I love you."

Mobius didn't want to wait to tell him in turn either, "I love you."

They hugged each other tightly again, tasting the happiness of hearing those words spoken by the beloved voice.

Then much later, they entered their home, ready to start a new life where everything was still to be discovered. Together.

**********

The house on the cliff - Summer 2024

"Cwoki! Cwoki!"

"Lila! Go slowly honey and wait for your little brother!"

"Wait my love, I'll help you." Clint came to support Laura who was struggling up on the small path leading to the house on the hill. She huffed a little, laying her hand on her belly rounded by her 6 months of pregnancy.

They watched, fondly, as their two children gave gentle pats to a Croki who seemed to enjoy it.

"Lila, Cooper, stop spoiling Croki, he'll keep coming to us for petting afterwards."

Both children stood up and grabbed onto the legs of the man who had just spoken.

"Uncle Mobius!"

He picked them both up, carrying them each in one arm.

"What about me, don't I get a hello kiss?"

Each of the two children placed a sounding kiss on Mobius' cheeks at the same time.

"Should I be jealous?" a voice behind Mobius spoke up.

"Uncle Loki!"

Cooper was already reaching out to Loki, who didn't hesitate. The little boy gave him a big kiss on the cheek and wiggled to be put back on the ground.

Loki and Mobius, side by side, welcomed Laura and Clint.

"Clint, Laura, Welcome!"

They all embraced and then headed to the terrace.

Loki guided Laura to a comfortable chair, stuffed with cushions for her. She sat down with a sigh, "Thank you." then looking around, she continued, "I may have been here many times before, but I'll never tire of this view."

Mobius motioned for Clint to sit next to Laura, before taking a seat as well.

Loki was about to sit down when he heard the unmistakable sound of a car pulling up in front of the house, Mobius started to get up, but Loki motioned for him to stay seated. "Stay seated, love, I'll welcome them."

He walked down the path toward the cars that had just arrived.

Thor was the first to walk over to him, "Loki! My friend!" before hugging him. Loki was now used to Thor's overflowing affection and allowed himself to be patted on the back.

Soon Heimdall, Bruce, Carol and Natasha joined them and followed his lead into the house. When they arrived on the terrace, everyone greeted each other, and sat around the table chatting happily. Lila was in awe of Natasha's red curls, and Cooper laughed out loud as Thor spun him around at arm's length.

"Is this the direction for the little party?"

Heads turned to the source of the voice as Mobius exclaimed, "Casey, we weren't expecting you anymore!"

Casey laughed lightly and added, "Where do I put this?" he pointed to the cake in his hands.

"I'll take it." replied Loki. He took the cake into the kitchen and there he felt suddenly overwhelmed by emotion. He waited for a while before returning to the terrace.

"Hey handsome, what are you doing here alone?"

Loki looked up and smiled, "Mobius."

Mobius, who after more than a year had learned to decipher Loki's expressions, noticed that something was wrong.

"Loki, sweetheart, what's going on with you."

Loki wanted to start talking, but the emotion was too strong,

"Hey, come here." Mobius took him in his arms and gently stroked his back, waiting for the worst of the crisis to pass.

After a few moments, Loki straightened up, a trembling smile beneath the tears, "I'm sorry, I don't know, I'm not sad, not at all, on the contrary, but I suddenly had this irrepressible urge to cry."

Mobius nodded, pushed a strand of Loki's hair back behind his ear.

"Just too much emotion maybe? What were you thinking?"

"I... I was putting the cake on the table and I thought, if you hadn't read my letter, none of this would be real. I wouldn't be here. There wouldn't be all these people on our deck. And it freaked me out for just a short moment, to realize that I almost lost everything."

Mobius, also visibly moved, pressed a tender kiss on Loki's mouth and said softly, "But on the contrary, you have, we have gained everything. You saved me, gave me a new life, and in doing so you gave us all a different and more beautiful life."

Loki nodded his head, then shook it as if to collect himself.

He kissed Mobius tenderly in turn, then stepped aside and grabbed Mobius' hand and pulled him toward the terrace, a confident smile on his lips.

"Come on, let's go celebrate!"

As Mobius let himself be pulled along and they walked through the living room, his gaze fell on Ravonna's book. His first family. His sister. Then his gaze slid to Loki in front of him and by extension everyone else on the terrace. Their new family. Not by blood, but by heart. All because one day, Loki had posted a little letter.

Dear new tenant.

Hello and welcome to your new home and congratulations, blah blah blah. You have made an excellent choice, New Asgard is a wonderful place and this house is a gem, as you may have already noticed.

I'm sure you'll love living here as much as I do.

Loki had not known that these words would be so prescient, even though they came from the future and were addressed to someone from the past.

Oh yes, Mobius loved living here, but not because of the house, because of the love that filled it. Because of Loki.

Together. For All time. Always.

_________

That's it, everyone is happy, including me. I hope you enjoyed it to the end. 1000 thanks to all the comments left, it's the fuel for each chapter. I love you all!

[words-for-holland]

Quarantine Series: Movie Night

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: A glimpse of what Movie Night is like for Tom & Y/N

A/N: I’ve been missing our fave couple from Quarantine Series 😩 and Fluff in general lol.

Check the Rest: Burnt Out | A New Look | Secret Cuts & Kisses | Breaking Friendships |The Birthday Week | Silence is Golden?|

Many may not know this, but at the start of Y/N & Tom’s relationship they made a couple of promises. To always be honest with each other, communicate as much as they can, and tell each other “I love you” everyday. But there was one promise they loved the most, Movie Nights every Wednesday...no exceptions! Of course, this was just a promise they made to each other at the start of Quarantine. Nonethless, it’s a Wednesday Night and the show must go on...literally.

Y/N’s alarm went off at 6 P.M., alerting her it was time to drop all her work. As she started logging off and rearranging her notes, she felt a pair of strong hands placed gently on her shoulders. “It’s Wednesday Night.” Her boyfriend whispered in her ear with a smile of excitement plastered on his face. “You know what that means.”

Y/N placed her small hands on his as she turned to give his a quick kiss. “Movie Nights with a side of cuddles?” She answered, sighing deeply in comfort. “I’ve been waiting for this all day.”

“Darling, I’ve waited all week.” Tom fired back, chuckling lightly. He helped her out of her seat, as he led her to the living room. “So, I’ll grab the snacks and you pick out the movie?”

Y/N looked at him, cocking her eyebrow in suspicion. “Babe, you know how long it takes for me to find a movie to watch.” It’s true. If there was one thing Y/N was well known for, it was for her indecisiveness. For Y/N, picking a movie wasn’t the kind where you could pick the first one off the self or what was in the Top 10. It had to be a movie that set the mood, had adventure, had nostalgia, with a hint of darkness and entertainment.

“I know, and I’m hoping by the time I get all the food and stuff ready, you’d find a movie by then.” Tom explained, kissing away her suspicion. “Plus I already did ask you to marry me. Im out of the surprises at the moment.”

Y/N smiled at his comment, looking at her ring and thinking about that day. “True. Im just saying it’s gonna be awhile.”

“Well, hopefully you find one within the hour.” Tom kisses the top of Y/N’s head one more time before he leaves for the kitchen. As Y/N sets up Netflix on the screen and starts her search, Harrison, Harry and Tuwaine make their way into the living room. Their faces dropping when they see Y/N, picking out a movie.

“Well lads, we picked the wrong week for Movie Night.” Harrison joked around. “Damn, I thought Tom was picking out the movie.”

“Hey! I know I take forever but I dont take THAT long.” Y/N argues as she stucks her tongue out playfully.

“Y/N, I could probably finish our movie script by the time you find one.” Harry joins in as he sits down on his usual seat at the far left corner.

“Yeah mate and I can probably do my laundry too and finish Call of Duty by the time shes done.” Tuwaine laughs, as he takes his seat.

“Look Y/N, I’ll make a bet with you. If you can find a movie in the next ten minutes I’ll give you 20 quid. How much is that in American dollars” Harrison says, with no sign of bluff.

“I think $20” Tuwaine says, when he comes to the realization of what Harrison was offering. “Oi, wait! You’re gonna give this girl 20 quid if she just picks a lousy movie?!”

“Relax you div. He knows Y/N wont just pick any movie thats why he’s betting a good chunk.” Harry says as he watches Y/N scroll through the same page for a movie.

Y/N looks back at the boys, as she smirks slightly. “Okay fine. Start the clock.”

The moment they started the timer, Y/N immediately yells, “Done! We’re watching Series of Unfortunate Events.”

Harry and Tuwain groan in unision as they look at Harrison. “Mate, now you gotta pay her 20 quid.” Tuwain whispers to him.

“Yeah, but at least you’re not waiting for another 8 hours before she picks one.” Harrison whispers back to which Tuwaine nods in agreement.

“A clever div, you are.” Tuwaine responds.

Tom enters the living room with freshley popped popcorn, Crunch bars, and Oreos. It was their usual every week and both swore they couldn’t finish Movie Night without it. “Oh cmon! I thought you’d guys wouldn’t join this week.” Tom groaned as he sees his best mates all hogging the couch with Y/N.

“Sorry mate, but Y/N picked a classic, so we’re staying....and I lost 20 quid for this.” Harrison mumbled as he sunk further into the couch.

Tom rolls his eyes as he walks past the filled couch only to stop at Y/N. He quickly scoops her up bridal style, as she squeaks at the sudden moment. Soon after, he drops her off on to the next couch, and wraps his strong arms around her tummy. Intaking her cocoa butter scent, which smelled like chocolate, he nuzzles his head into her neck. “Not the Movie Night I imagined, but as long as I get to cuddle you...it’s just as perfect.” He confesses as they watch the screen.

“Hmm...it’s always perfect with you.” Y/N mumbles as she struggles to open her eyes. It was a habit of hers to fall asleep when watching the movies she picked. Not because they were boring, but because of how comforting they were. The mood of the film, the dark atmosphere with only the television lighting up the room, Tom holding her and leaving soft kisses...how could she not?

“It’s okay darling, if you want to sleep. I got you.” He whispers, smiling into her hair. Y/N tilts her head back to look at Tom. “I know you do. I love you.” She whispers back, as Tom leans into to peck her small lips. Within minutes, Y/N falls fast asleep and so do the other boys. Tom looks around and smiles, thinking of how incredible it is to genuinely feel like he’s home. He shuts off the television once the movie ends, and places a blanket on the boys so they keep warm. For Y/N, he gently carries her off to their bedroom as he tucks both of them in, falling back asleep after yet another successful Movie Night.

Taglist:

@hollanddolanfangirl @parkerspillow

[crutchie-with-a-y]

Chapter 2: The Morning Machine

Chapter 1

"Wait, wait, what?!" Specs almost spat out his beer in surprise. "Jack and Davey? Those stubborn idiots? They finally got together?"

"Yep," Smalls said, smacking the back of a pack of cigarettes and sticking one in her mouth. She leaned her face towards the end of Race's cigarette to light her own. "End of one of Jack's art galleries, he finally sold a piece, and he was so happy."

"Hey," Specs snapped the cigarette out from between her teeth and took a drag. "Aren't you a little young to be smoking?" The rest of them laughed while she bit her bottom lip in a smile of annoyance.

"A, I'm nineteen," She snatched it back. "And B, you started smoking at thirteen so I don't wanna hear it." The group chuckled. Elmer, Race, Smalls, Mush, Finch, and Specs had all been sitting on the fire escape sipping drinks and passing stories and updating Specs on all that had happened in the time that he'd been gone. They'd been at it for hours, but it didn't feel like it'd been that long. That's how time passed when Specs was with his crew. He remembered coming home around four when he was a kid and just talking with his friends until Sarah came in and asked if anyone had had dinner yet considering it was eleven. "And Jack's doing art galleries now?" Specs asked, glancing down at the cars that were sputtering to life in the street. They'd talked clean through those early hours of the morning that still feel like night, and now they'd reached the early hours of the actual morning when the sun peaked over the roofs of apartment buildings and people started heading out for school and work.   "Oh, yeah," Elmer started, but before he could continue, a brown-haired woman stuck her head out the window from the apartment to the fire escape. "Do any of you need any extra food for today? Considering that I have to leave in" She stopped rubbing her eyes to smack a thin, sage-colored watch on her wrist. "Jesus, I was supposed to leave already. Anyone need anything?" "SARAH!" Specs shouted with glee, causing her eyes to slam open. "Oh my lord, Specs, Darling! Where have you been?" Sarah smiled brightly with outstretched arms, the exhaustion wiped clear off her face. He stumbled over his friends and wrapped the only maternal figure he had in his life in the strongest hug he could muster. He used to run up to her and bury his face in her stomach, but now she barely reached his shoulder.  "I thought I said to stop growing at five-seven, " She grinned, lightly tapping his nose with her finger. "Now you're going to be hitting your head when you get inside." "What time is it, Sarah?" Race said, over-pronouncing the R in her name. The rest of the group was stretching out and picking up empty beers. "About 5:15, Racer," She responded, mimicking him. "Ah, shit, I gotta catch my train in ten minutes." Finch scooched past everyone and pushed himself through the window. Everyone else groaned in similar frustration and began to climb through the window. Except for Elmer, who stretched back out on the porch with his hands behind his head. "Ah, the joys of unemployment. I don't have to be anywhere today," He smirked, his eyes closed in relaxation. "You got fired, Nitwit," Mush smacked him in the back of the head. "You gotta go find a job and go get those kids up for Sarah." Elmer groaned. "Tell them there's a pot of oatmeal on the stove and I sweetened it so don't add any more sugar," Sarah said as she waved Specs through the window. Elmer nodded and climbed onto the outside of the fire escape. "Oh, Elmer use the LADDER, Lord, you gotta cut that out!" Sarah hollered as Elmer dropped from the edge of the fire escape onto the one below. Specs laughed as he stepped into the apartment he knew so well. It hadn't changed much. To the left of the fire escape window was a dim bedroom with no light fixtures, and to the right, it opened up into a living room that extended into a small kitchen with a tiny bar and no room for a table. The living room had a couple of ratty couches and a rocking chair facing a beat-up old television. Old, creaking mattresses were scattered all over the floor, some stacked with piles of blankets and some with sleeping bodies still in them. The walls were covered in drawings and notes and school papers that had been tacked up with pride. Specs smiled. He could still see some of his work decorating the room. It was so good to be back. "Where the hell did Elmer just go?" Specs asked, blinking out of his nostalgia. "Oh, we had enough growing boys and enough of us had jobs that we decided to rent out the Jamesons' apartment after they moved to California," Sarah informed him, walking into the kitchen. "Yeah, and 'cuz with all those "growing boys" this place smelled like actual ass," Smalls said, plopping her petite body down onto one of the couches. "Don't get too comfy, you got work too, You Little Brat," Mush reached over the back of the couch and picked her up, throwing her over the back of his shoulder and carrying her towards the bedroom, Smalls squealing as they went. "Ohhh, alright." Specs followed Sarah into the kitchen where she was bagging up sandwiches at the counter. He reached for a bag to help, but she poked him and gestured for the sink. He smirked and walked over to turn the faucet on and began scrubbing his hands. "Yeah, it's been nice to have the extra space. The bedroom up here has everyone's clothes in it, and downstairs we have a couple of desks and a crib." Sarah said, finishing with a little hum. Specs loved that sound. She always made it when she was happy about something. Specs could tell she was proud of how far they'd come since renting out that single bedroom all those years ago. He knew, he was there, he remembered it like it was yesterday. He was proud too. "Wait, what do you need a crib for? Specs questioned, flicking his hands. He did some quick calculations in his head. "Everyone should be.....twelve at least." "We have a couple of babies, well, used to be babies." Sarah pulled a marker out of a drawer and began scrawling names on the lunch bags in her smudged, loopy handwriting. Always was like that, Specs thought to himself. "Now I think they count as kids, but they're still small enough to sleep in a crib without too much protest." "Where the hell did you find babies?" Specs was still confused. "Sarah brought them in from work," Finch entered the kitchen to brush his teeth at the sink. "From work?" Specs glanced between the both of them, passing a bag to Sarah. "Yeah, she's a lunch lady at an elementary school," Finch said, his mouth foaming with toothpaste. "Can't you tell?" Sarah laughed, gesturing to her long, white, button-up dress and white sneakers. She stepped back from the counter and walked into the living room, kneeling in front of the TV to look at her reflection on the screen to pin up her hair. "Yeah, and some of the kids there didn't have a place to go so she brought them here. And they had younger siblings." Finch finished brushing and turned around, drying his mouth with the edge of his sleeve. "That's....so nice of her." Specs looked back at Sarah, who had finished pinning up her hair and was now gentling shaking awake those who were still in bed. "I know and," Finch looked down at the rows of lunch bags sitting on the counter. "Christ, she did it again." Specs looked at him with his eyebrow raised. "She gets up every morning at like four and makes everyone lunches and breakfasts, no matter how old they are." He explained. "Just like she did when we were kids." Specs said quietly, his heart suddenly aching. "Yeah," Finch shook his head. Their attention was drawn away by the sound of the apartment door opening and a dozen footsteps coming in. A stream of kids, ages three to around seventeen came through the door, all yawning and chatting with each other. Some were carrying half-eaten bowls of oatmeal and some were jumping on each other's backs. Some of the faces Specs recognized, and others were entirely new to him. But they all had the innocent, playful aura of kids raised by the newsies of Lower Manhattan. As the apartment began to fill with lean bodies and laughter, none other than Jack Kelly stepped through the door in his loose white T-shirt and faded blue jeans, ushering the last of the line of youngens through the door. His eyes looked to his left at the kitchen counter and his brow furrowed. He stepped into the living room and raised his voice over the chatter. "So you mean to tell me that the lovely Ms. Sarah Jacobs with a full-time job got up at the ass-crack of dawn to make all of us breakfast and lunch and nobody is going to thank her?" Sarah looked up from where she had been kneeling on the floor in front of the mattress and locked eyes with Specs. Before she could move though, the swarm of bodies rushed towards her and latched on, yelling their "Thank Yous" and "You look so pretty todays" and "You're the bests" so loud the neighbors across the street must have heard. Then a couple of the older kids lifted her up on their shoulders, despite her giggling protests. They carried her towards the door when she began to say she needed to leave, and everyone shouted a wall-shaking "I LOVE YOU SARAH" as they lowered her to the door. She laughed loudly and said she loved everyone too before making her way down the hall. "Every morning," Race said, strolling into the kitchen behind Specs and his face-bursting smile. "I swear that woman has more children than God himself," Another familiar voice said, pushing through the door past the kids. David Jacobs slid into the kitchen, met by Jacks welcoming arms. "Specs! Specs, you're here!" David's eyes went wide as he noticed him. Specs had completely forgotten that he was even there, he felt like he'd been watching a movie. "I didn't even see you there!" Jack wrapped him in a tight hug...and then a scarring noogie. "H-HI, Jack," Specs wriggled out from under his arm. Jack laughed with the tip of his tongue hanging out. How has nothing and everything changed at the same time, Specs thought, looking between Jack's characteristic laugh and the arm David had wrapped around his waist. "How have you been, Mr. Deserts-Us-For-Another-City-That-Isn't-Even-Close-To-Santa-Fe?" Jack asked, bending down to toss a tennis ball back to some kids in the living room. "Santa Fucking Fe? You're still on that musty desert town?" "Hey, it is not a musty desert town!" Jack protested before the ringing of an alarm clock that sat on the counter interrupted. "That's my cue to leave," Finch said, patting Specs on the back and grabbing his lunch as he made his way towards the door. "I'll see you at around five or maybe meet you for lunch at Jacobi's?" He said. Specs nodded, realizing as soon as Finch had left that he didn't know when his lunch was. "And that's our cue to start packing up," Jack said, stepping back into the living room. "Aho, everyone. The alarm just buzzed so let's get moving. Let's see if we can beat seven minutes today, THOSE PAPES DON’T SELL THEMSELVES!" Jack clapped and everyone started speeding around the apartment, in what Specs thought could only describe as efficient chaos. Blankets and sheets were torn of mattresses and folded in the same blink of an eye. The bare mattresses were then stacked in the corner of the room, while another group of kids began washing oatmeal bowls off and stacking them on the counter before grabbing lunch bags and passing them to their friends who they were labeled too. Specs felt a little less than useless, as he didn't know how to help and mostly felt like just a block in the gears of this morning machine. But when Jack and David started pointing him out to kids they were assisting and their eyes lit up with recognition, that feeling was washed away. "Specs! Guys, it's Specs!" A mid-teens Sniper called to his buddies, before running up and nearly knocking him over with his enthusiastic embrace. The kids talked at a mile a minute, and Specs didn't have time to answer all their questions before Jack yelled that it was time to go, and everyone rushed to get in a line in front of the door, their every hand gripping one of the brown paper lunches as they waved goodbye and filed out into the hall. Before he closed the door behind the last kid whose hand David was holding, Jack grabbed his and David's lunch and scanned the apartment before laying his eyes on Elmer. "Where the hell is Crutch?" He asked him, narrowing his eyes. Elmer's hands flew up with innocence, but before he could say anything, Jack snapped his fingers at him. "Don't be getting smart with me. I asked you to help him up here, and if I hear that it took any more than thirty seconds for you to be helping him up here, you're dead meat, you hear?" He said, his tone assertive. Elmer sighed and nodded, swinging his feet off the couch. "Okay, okay, I'm going, Jack." "Alright," Jack's face switched back to his cheerful morning grin. "Tell Jacobi I'm covering your lunch, Specs. Actually, I'm stupid. We all have lunch. Let's all meet at Jacobi's for an early dinner. Sounds good?" He looked around and everyone nodded. "Elmer, you get the word out to everyone before the end of the day?" "You's always asking me to do stuff," Elmer moaned dramatically. "Ah, yes well that's what those who are in charge are supposed to do. I can see why you got fired." Jack said snarkily. "Alright, see you after work. Love you Elms!"  And with that he shut the door before the pillow Elmer through could get to him.

"As you can see, Jack is a completely different person," Race said dryly, spooning the last bit of his oatmeal into his mouth and heading towards the door. Specs chuckled as he watched through the window as Elmer dropped down the fire escape again. "Okay, I gotta be on my way too. Crutch could probably use a hand if you don't have any plans for the day. And make sure Elmer leaves by noon otherwise not everyone will know to come to Jacobi's for dinner. See ya!" And with that, Race spun out the door, and Specs was left alone, seeing his childhood home a way he had never seen it before. Empty.

[zigtheeortega]

unrequited [part 3]

✿ pairing: bryce x mc

✿ word count: 6327

✿ warnings: innuendos, mention of drugs

✿ author’s note: well, this took a lot longer to finish than i expected (lmaooo). i kind of lost interest in open heart after seeing how horribly characters were sidelined, including my fav surgeon. i’ve worked on this on and off since april after i posted part 2, so this is like 4 ish months in the making. this series means the absolute world to me because it was the first time i was really confident in my writing. not as confident in the conclusion, but it’s been weighing on me for months, so i felt obligated to finish it! i hope you all enjoy it!

added my tags to the end bc there’s quite a few, so i’m sorry if i tagged you and you didn’t want to be – i’m going off of who asked to be tagged/asked for a part 3 months ago!

[read part 1 and part 2 here]

•─────────✦✿✦────────•

She slumped into the seat in the deserted waiting room, her joints popping as she stretched, her deep sigh echoing off of the tile. She was exhausted.

She could usually push through the worst of her shifts, but fatigue settled into her bones, a lethargy she’d never experienced entrapping her like a net, and she couldn’t fight her way out of it this time.

“Hey, Spence. What’s wrong?”

She glanced at the door, expecting to see his arm pressed against the frame of the door, slouched casually like he hadn’t a care in the world. Instead, Bryce was unusually close to her, standing right next to her chair, like he’d appeared out of nowhere.

“I’m just so… tired. It feels like I’m trying to sprint underwater right now and I don’t know why. I can’t explain it,” she watched him, gauging his reaction, but something was off.

“C’mon, I think I know exactly what you need right now,” his smile was Bryce’s, but the familiar twinkle of mischief and flirtiness in his eye wasn’t there.

He turned wordlessly, walking out of the door and down the hallway, which was a lot longer than she’d remembered.

She shook it off and trailed behind him, heart beating soundly in her chest. Was he bringing her to the on call room? To the supply closet? Maybe to an unattended office?

“So, where are you taking me?” She asked playfully, reaching out to link her finger in his, but she fell short, even though he was right in front of her.

He either didn’t hear her, or ignored her, walking straight ahead at the same pace. “Bryce, did you hear me?”

He didn’t pick up his pace, but she fell behind, trying to keep up, – to no avail. She looked down, thinking maybe – crazily – that she’d stepped into cement, slowing her pace to a crawl, or something else that was explainable.

But she was fine.

She pushed herself harder as she fell farther and farther back, Bryce’s stride never breaking.

She pumped her arms, leaning forward, trying desperately to swim through the thick atmosphere, practically pedaling against the ground to gain some type of momentum.

“Bryce? Bryce! Hello?” She yelled, as his figure got smaller and smaller, the hall literally stretching to accommodate the distance between them.

She watched as the wall space stretched, new door frames popping up, the number of rooms multiplying by the second.

He turned back for the first time as she clawed her way towards him, making no progress. “You gotta try a little harder for me, Spence.”

He smiled, not sinisterly, but just wide enough, lacking just the right amount of his effortless charm, that she got chills.

She jolted awake, the sound of her alarm interrupting her R.E.M. She snatched her phone off the dresser and tapped her screen, met with a brief silence before the distant noise of traffic – engines rumbling, and horns blaring below – filled her room.

She sat up, panting, her back slick with cooled sweat, the thin fabric of her top clinging to her skin. She breathed deeply, calming her quick pulse, until a muffled sound broke her concentration.

Her phone laid face down on her comforter, slivers of light peeking out of the sides. She flipped it, and her eyes widened in horror after reading Bryce’s name at the top of the screen, but even more so after watching the numbers tick higher and higher.

It wasn’t an alarm – he’d called her at 3 a.m.

“Hello?”

“Hey, you okay? You picked up but I didn’t hear anything besides heavy breathing.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. You just woke me up.”

“Right. Sorry.” He was silent long enough that she almost asked if he’d muted her. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

“About what? You’re freaking me out a little bit,” she laughed once, but it came out as a scoff, and she kicked herself internally.

She didn’t want him to think she was mad. If anything, she’d been craving any time she could get with him.

They’d maintained a semblance of normality after the party, speaking to each other in the hallways, hanging out in groups, but they never unpacked their past conversation further.

She knew she’d said some profoundly batshit things while she was drunk, and vaguely remembered professing her feelings to him, but he never brought it up.

When she surprised the group with tickets to a music festival, she had ulterior motives. She wanted to get him as alone as she could in a sea of thousands. She wanted to make things right. But because Bryce was wholly intoxicating, she couldn’t do anything but live in their moment, the tough conversations – though inevitable – a million miles away.

They danced, they kissed, and she was enraptured by him. The way her hand fit into his own, the way his warm palm felt against her lower back, the way the cool tones of the stage lights bounced off of his bronzed skin, the way the smooth bass of his voice sounded as his full lips were nearly pressed against her ear, the way his smile was just crooked enough to be a smoulder and a smirk at the same time, and it was insufferable, but she adored it… Everything about Bryce was everything she’d ever wanted.

And she thought she was close to getting it back. She thought that’d be the end of it. They made up, and they could move forward. She wanted him, and he wanted her, finally.

But nothing came of it. He never avoided her, but he never stayed around long enough for her to bring up the night of the party.

The seed of hope in her chest blossomed, budding slowly every instance they spent enough time together to make it feel like when they were interns, the exhilarating sensation of hooking up freely a nostalgia she craved. She’d worked up enough courage to treat her situation dramatically – like in a movie – showing up at his apartment, wine in hand, ready to have make up sex and lay it all on the table while they were both sober.

The hope bloomed, coming to fruition when she surprised him, only to find that he’d been hiding his personal problems. It explained why he’d been avoiding her, she thought.

Bryce Lahela was a prideful bastard – one who couldn’t admit he needed a lifesaver until he was already sinking. He was in over his head, drowning underneath the pressure of fostering his kid sister, whom he had virtually no relationship with, all the while balancing residency – as well as… whatever was happening between them.

When she planned to spend her whole life making it up to him, she wasn’t bluffing. So when she saw the opportunity to salvage and strengthen the siblings’ relationship with something as simple as cooking pasta, she dove in headfirst, hand outstretched, eagerly pulling him to safety.

“Keiki’s gone,” he sighed, and she could feel his anxiety and overwhelming dread through that one deep breath.

“Gone? What do you mean ‘gone’? Did she go back to Maui?” She asked frantically, throwing her covers back, and began pacing the room.

“For all I know, she could be at the airport or across state lines by now,” he chuckled humorlessly.

“Why didn’t you tell me? We could’ve thrown her a going away party or something. Or at least given her a card,” she huffed, kicking at a dirty shirt she’d left on the ground.

“Well, it was kind of, uh, sudden.”

“That implies that it was out of nowhere. So she just bolted? Unprovoked?”

“I mean, it was a little provoked.” He said under his breath, just above a whisper.

“Bryce… what are you not telling me?” She asked, uneasy. She didn’t know if she wanted to hear his answer.

“We got into a fight –”

“And she ran away.” She finished for him.

“... And she ran away.” He said.

She could sense his shame through the phone, his voice getting weaker with every word. She slipped out from under the covers, and tiptoed to her closet, throwing on the first shirt and pair of pants she touched.

“You can explain why later, but right now we need to go find her. We can meet at the subway stop closest to your place. You can start by retracing her steps. Are there any corner stores she liked? Maybe a skate park? She seems like she’d be into that kind of stuff –”

“Spence.”

“Yeah?” “You don’t have to help me. I know things have been kind of weird lately. Don’t feel obligated to help me. This is my fuck up, not yours.”

“We can talk about ‘us’ later, Bryce. Even if we were on bad terms, you know I’d drop anything to help you and Keiki. I know you don’t have anyone to lean on.”

He took a deep, shuddering breath that she could barely hear over the slight static of the phone. “Thank you.” “You can thank me after we find her.”

––––

As soon as she stepped off the subway, Spencer hit a near sprint, trying to get to their designated meeting spot. The Boston weather was as unforgiving as ever, the chilled wind stinging her cheeks.

She ran towards the hole in the wall pizza joint that Keiki had told her about offhandedly the night they’d cooked together.

As soon as she saw Bryce’s form, she slowed to a jog, nearly breathless, both by the physical exertion and how awful he looked. His features mirrored the one she’d seen in the supply closet, his defeated expression a painful memory she’d worked hard to bury.

She’d never seen him cry before, but from the way his red-rimmed eyes nearly sagged, nose rubbed raw, lips tight, she felt emotionally spared by not being there whilst the tears fell.

“Bryce?”

“Hey, Spencer,” He smiled weakly, sniffling and rubbing his nose on the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Did you go inside and ask the owners if she stopped by?” “Yeah, they said she was here an hour ago. She stopped for a slice but didn’t stay long,” he said, shaking his head as he pulled his phone from his pocket, before tapping on his screen.

“Okay, that’s great news! She couldn’t have gotten far,” she said, before swivelling back towards where she came from. “C’mon, I hope you have your monthly pass. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

“Where to next?” He joked, but his heart wasn’t in it.

“First thing’s first, did you check to see if her location was on?”

“She never had it on in the first place. I guess she thought I’d show up and embarrass her or something,” he shrugged, running a hand through his hair.

They stepped onto the dingy subway car, nearly empty except for one other person who was slumped over in their seat, asleep.

“I doubt it. She has a soft spot for you, Bry,” she sat down, readjusting her loose sweatpants before doing so.

“If she did, then she doesn’t anymore. I think I really fucked up this time,” he said, more to himself than her.

He ended it there, so she decided to nudge him a little. “You don’t have to tell me, but it might help if I had some context.”

“No, no, I… want to. I trust you,” he glanced over to her, holding her eye for the first time that night. He inched his hand over to hers, cautiously, debating, she thought, before settling on rubbing his thumb up and down her pinky finger.

The dying bud in her chest bloomed once again, warmth spreading throughout her limbs at his touch, his soft gesture quenching the thirst her heart so desperately pined for. 

She blinked, eyes trained on his mouth, unable to tear her gaze away from his lips. He didn’t seem to notice, or he was good at hiding it.

“I said and did some things I shouldn’t have. Some things that might’ve reminded her of our parents,” he started.

She waited for him to continue, watching his chest shake as he tried to find the words between the deep breaths he took to calm himself.

“She’s taking after me, and I don’t like it. Not me, like Dr. Lahela, one of the best surgeons this world has ever seen –” a hint of a smirk curled the corner of his lip – “but like the rebellious, angry, reckless teen Bryce who just wanted… attention. From anyone.”

“So… why don’t you give her that?”

He blew out a sharp huff of air. “I don’t get her. And I’m trying really hard to. But there’s only so many hours in the day, and I don't think she felt like I was trying hard enough.”

“You got wrapped up in work like your parents did, huh?” She asked softly, placing her other hand on top of his, quietly lacing her fingers through his.

“Yeah,” he said, remorseful. “I just wish I could’ve kept my fucking mouth shut for once –”

“Hey, hey, stop that. You can feel as guilty as you want after we find her, but we have to stay positive right now,” she said, a bit sternly, covering his hand with her own, gripping it tightly.

He watched her face, searching for something. Maybe a crack in her sincerity? Ulterior motives? She wasn’t sure if he trusted people or not, and it perplexed her to think about it – she’d known Bryce for over a year and couldn’t name a single person that she knew he definitively trusted.

“Thanks, Spence. I really mean it,” he said finally, a little more relaxed than he was seconds before.

He checked his phone every couple of seconds, clicking the lock screen to check the time, before locking it again, just to repeat the cycle incessantly.

“Can I be honest about something?” He asked, staring straight ahead, brows furrowed.

“Of course.”

“I… ignored her. Just like they ignored me when I started acting out. I…” He shook his head. “I said I’d never be like them.”

“You aren’t, Bryce,” she affirmed, rubbing his shoulder blade in soft circles. “The fact that you’re out here searching for her says so much about who you are.”

“It doesn’t say enough.”

“What do you mean?” “Running away from home means nothing if I’m not better than them. Thousands of miles of distance and I turned out just like them,” he scoffed. “The fucking cycle repeats itself.”

“Bryce…” she shifted her body, facing him completely, while he stared ahead, not meeting her eye.

“Just because you’re not good with coping with all of this doesn’t mean you’re a bad brother.”

He turned towards her finally, attentive.

“Yeah, you tend to bottle things up until they blow up, but you didn’t ask for this. You’re not her parent – you’re her brother, first and foremost. You can’t put those expectations on yourself because you’re not them. You’re doing the best you can as her brother, not her parent.”

She laced her fingers over his, squeezing the hand she’d been holding. “You can’t fault yourself for making mistakes. This is new territory for you. You’re learning and she is, too.”

The doors opened in front of them, the only indicator that they’d made it to the next stop. They were both so engrossed that they hadn’t noticed.

“We should probably get out here,” she said, standing. She didn’t check to see if he followed suit, missing the way he watched her as he walked behind her.

They clopped up the stairs again, Spencer shivering despite her cozy getup.

“Do you want my headband?” He asked, digging into his pocket. “It’s really warm.”

“Oh, yeah. Thanks,” she took it, pulling the thick band over her hair, snug against her ears, but comfortable.

“No problem,” he said, watching her adjust it, his eyes trained on the way she pursed her lips when she couldn’t get all of her hairs to lay down just right.

“We can split up,” she started, pointing down the main street across from the subway. “I’ll check the restaurants that are open down this way, and you can go the opposite way. I’ll text you when I head back –”

“I don’t want you walking alone, Spence,” he said, shutting her down immediately.

“We’re gonna cover more ground if we split up. I can handle myself. Don’t worry about me,” she shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”

“I can’t handle the idea of you getting hurt while helping me look for my sister. Please,” he pleaded, eyes soft.

“Fine,” she sighed.

They checked a handful of diners, breakfast places, and even a bar, but with no luck. Even when Bryce flashed a photo from Keiki’s Instagram, no one’s eyes lit up in recognition.

He looked more and more defeated with each subway stop, his posture slumping, his lips set in a thin line.

She could feel herself deflating as well, but she couldn’t bear to show him she was quickly losing hope, too. No one was going to support Bryce the way he needed, except for her.

“Let’s stop by that skatepark. If she’s not there, there’s bound to be someone who’s seen her,” Spencer nodded resolutely, absentmindedly grasping Bryce’s hand and tugging him towards the stop.

“It’s no use,” he whispered, and she whipped around at the sound of his voice, his body grounded, like his feet were nailed to the ground.

“What’s no use?”

“This,” he gestured with both hands, tugging his chilled hands from her grip. “She doesn’t want to be in Boston. It’s my fault she hasn’t adjusted. I haven’t exactly been the best welcoming committee.”

She shook her head vigorously. “Bryce, she could care less where you live. She came here for you.”

His brows furrowed, his face contorting, his features scrunching like he was in physical pain. When he covered his face with his hand, without hesitation, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, pulling him down to rest his face in the crook of her shoulder.

She whispered words of affirmation in his ear as he sobbed into her jacket, and she rubbed small soothing circles, doing her best to comfort him.

He’d never been this vulnerable in front of her. It was hard to decipher how he felt about things going wrong, his killer smile usually a convincing mask.

He pulled away after a while, his tear streaked face glimmering in the light. “Sorry. That was embarrassing,” he laughed shakily, flashing his teeth, just on the cusp of being a signature Bryce smile.

“Oh, shut up. I’ve cried in front of you before –”

“And it was embarrassing,” he teased, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

A laugh bubbled from her before she could stop it. A body aching, chest heaving, breath stealing guttural laugh that shook her to her core because of how unexpected it was. That type of joy was nearly lost on her. It was so foreign compared to the past couple weeks, and it felt good.

He cackled with her, more so at the involuntary snort that ripped from her nose, less at his not-so-subtle roast. He grasped at his chest with one hand, gasping for air. “God, I’d willingly do appendectomies for a month straight if I could get a video of that snort. I’d snap everybody.”

Her eyes widened, his words triggering a memory.

“Oh my god,” she smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand. She quickly opened her phone, navigating to the app she needed. “What? Is it bad?”

“No, I just realized she added me on Snapchat, so her location might be on,” she smiled to herself, opening up the geolocation map, seeing Keiki’s Bitmoji pop up – in the city. “Oh my god, Bryce, she’s still in Boston! Look, it’s her!” She hugged her phone to her chest. “She’s a couple of stops down but not that far away from us.”

He watched her with a confused expression, a little hurt, almost.

“What’s wrong?”

“... She never added me on Snap,” he nearly pouted.

She cackled again, covering her mouth with her hand, shoulders shaking – real laughter. Another fleeting moment of pure joy was the eye of the storm, and she gladly basked in it. 

“I didn’t know you two were so close,” His mouth lifted at the corner, a knowing smile forming.

“Well, I got her phone number and snap in case she wanted me to show her around Boston, y’know, if you were busy,” she said between breaths, still coming down from her fit. “Or if she ever got tired of you,” she teased, the feeling of normality settling between them like there wasn’t a massive elephant in the room.

“How could you ever get tired of this face, though? I’m adorable,” he grinned, flashing her favorite 1000-watt smile that made her stomach flutter. “Nah, but really. Thank you. I don’t really know where I’d be right now without you.”

His eyes softened, the debonair facade parting just long enough for her to see what was undoubtedly her favorite side of him.

He laid his hand on her jaw, the warmth of his palm comforting, a striking contrast to the nipping cold of the night air. Both his touch and the temperature differences elicited a reflexive shiver from her, goosebumps raising on her arms underneath her jacket.

Part of her wanted to admit she’d shuddered solely because of his warm skin, because she didn’t want to inflate his ego – but there was no denying it. A single touch from Bryce was all it took to make her putty in his hands.

His gaze flickered to her lips, and he stretched his thumb to lightly drag the pad of it over her bottom lip, parted in awe. “Spencer…”

The tension thickened, their anticipation making it difficult to breathe. God, there was nothing she wanted more in that moment than to grab his face and taste him again. As much as she wanted to kiss him, it wasn’t right.

“Bryce,” she whispered, eyelids fluttering as she watched his tongue flick out to wet his lips. “You can kiss me after we find her.”

––––

The skatepark was nearly empty, the streetlights casting long shadows from the ramps onto the concrete.

“You’re sure she’s here?” He asked, wispy streams leaving his mouth as he spoke.

“Unless she dropped her phone here, she should be close by,” she nodded towards where a few scraggly teenagers were standing around, pungent smoke in the air.

“Keiki shouldn’t be out here with those dumbasses smoking weed out in the open like that,” he huffed, eyeing them as they walked towards the back, the grassy area coming into focus.

“Relax. I doubt she’s out here to smoke. You say that like you didn’t smoke too,” she raised a brow at him, challenging.

He pursed his lips. “Oh, so it’s like that.”

“What? You can’t go all dad mode and expect me not to play devil’s advocate,” she quipped, shrugging.

Before he could form a retort, Bryce held her arm back, stopping her in her tracks.

On the steps leading down to the grass, sat Keiki, headphones in her ears, tapping her foot as she dug into a bag of chips, crunching loudly.

Bryce looked absolutely helpless, like he had no clue what to do next – so Spencer stepped forward without a second thought, trying her best not to startle her.

When she was in her line of sight, Keiki’s eyes bulged from her head, and she nearly choked on her soda. “Jesus fucking christ, you scared me,” she coughed into the crook of her elbow. “What are you doing here? Did he tell you I left?” “I was worried about you,” Spencer said, evading the last question, trying to play it cool. Keiki hadn’t noticed Bryce at the top of the stairs.

“Yeah, but how’d you find me?” She popped a chip in her mouth.

“If you wanna be harder to find, you gotta try a little harder than that,” she said, plopping down on the concrete stair next to her. “Snap maps.”

“I wasn’t trying to go off the grid or whatever. I just wanted some space. It’s no big deal,” Keiki huffed, scooting away from Spencer.

“Maybe so, but you can’t leave after a fight with no explanation. You’re too young to be out here alone this late.”

“You act like I haven’t been through worse,” she muttered.

“I know you have. But you can’t just walk out like that. Bryce is all you’ve got out here.”

“Oh, so you didn’t come alone,” she rolled her eyes. “He begged you to come, didn’t he? Did he not feel like coming himself? Did he have work or something?”

Spencer winced at Keiki’s tone of voice, simultaneously laced with seething rage and hurt. “No, he’s here. You need to talk it out.”

She set her mouth into a thin line, whipping her head around to gaze up at the top of the stairs, flipping him off.. “Go away.”

She gently grasped her wrist, pulling her hand down. “Please, Keiki. There’s a lot of things he won’t say to you, but I’ve heard them. If he didn’t regret what he said to you, I wouldn’t be helping him,” she pleaded, squeezing her wrist comfortingly.

Keiki glanced away, then back to her eyes, then back to the ground, unable to hold her gaze. “Okay.”

Spencer stood up, motioning for Bryce to come towards her. He met her halfway down the stairs, his gaze soft and admiring. “I… I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” she smiled, reaching out to rub a hand against his arm. “Go work things out with your sister.”

He leaned in, surprising her with a soft peck on the corner of her upturned lips. “Thanks.” He winked and took the rest of the stairs two at a time, a spring in his step.

She watched as he bent down to sit next to her hunched form, nearly dwarfing her. Over the next twenty minutes, she focused on their backs, heads bobbing as they discussed and argued. They gradually relaxed, Kekei’s body unfurling from her condensed form, Bryce draping an arm on the step behind her.

And when they arose to walk towards Spencer’s place at the top of the stairs, they were both laughing, flashing the same grin.

God they were so similar – and didn’t even know it.

“I’m gonna wait over there while you two makeout,” Keiki grimaced, frowning as soon as her joke dawned on her. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Glad you’re back,” she called, but she was already throwing up a peace sign, back turned, probably not registering what she’d said.

The second they were alone, the nerves hit, the heat of his body next to hers already stifling. While she debated whether or not to meet his eye, he spoke.

“You wanna cash in on that kiss now?”

She glanced up, breath hitching in her throat when she realized how close his face was to her own. Her half lidded gaze was trained on his bottom lip, caught between his teeth. As soon as a quiet “yes” fell from her lips, he captured them in a searing kiss.

For a few blissful moments, the only sound between them were their soft sighs of contentment. She couldn’t remember if Bryce always kissed like this – so passionate and so enthusiastic, yet so cool, so suave.

Every methodical movement of his jaw was so practiced, so refined, she felt like underneath the flickering streetlight, in Bryce’s strong grip, she was the one he operated on, her chest reopened, her heart exposed. Everything she had to give was laid out on the metaphorical operating table, and as cheesy as it sounded, there was a chance he could save her.

The kiss was a reawakening for her. She knew what she had to do. She’d never been more sure of anything before.

She pulled back, their noses touching, as she whispered four words she knew he wouldn’t expect to hear. Maybe he’d forgotten what he asked her the moment it left his lips, but she was determined to mend what she’d broken.

“Ask me to choose.”

“Huh?” He panted, running a thumb across her jawline.

“Just ask me.”

“What do you choose?” He laughed, clearly confused.

“You. Always,” she breathed, tugging him forward by the collar of his jacket, sealing her promise with a kiss.

––––

On the ride home, Spencer sat cuddled up next to him, their fingers tightly wound – like they were afraid if the other let go, it wouldn’t be real. 

“Did I say anything… big to you while I was drunk?” She asked, breaking the silence.

Bryce chuckled softly, trying not to wake a sleeping Keiki, curled up next to him, somehow lulled to sleep by the loud, aggressive music blaring from her headphones.

“Yeah, you did.”

“Shit, I really thought I’d made that up,” she shook her head, covering her face with her other hand.

“Nah, you definitely dropped a bomb on me that night.”

“Bryce,” she whined. “Can’t you just tell me? I’m already embarrassed enough.”

“Glad I’ve got you hot and bothered,” he grinned, teasing. “Well… you said, and I quote ‘I think I love you’.”

Her cheeks warmed, and she turned, burying her head in the crook of his neck. “Did I really?” “I said it back.”

She looked up from her place against his shoulder, mouth agape as he planted a kiss on her forehead.

“Do you think or do you know?” She whispered, unsure if she wanted the answer.

“After tonight, I’m more sure than I ever have been,” he shook his head. “Probably more sure of this than anything else in my life right now.”

He used his free hand to cup her face, kissing her lips tenderly. She couldn’t remember a time he’d kissed her with that much care.

“So are you gonna say it first, or am I gonna have to?” He murmured against her lips, earning a surprised laugh from her.

“I’ve done a lot of your dirty work tonight,” she joked.

“Not the kind of dirty I’d prefer, but I’ll give you the credit you deserve,” he laughed as she swatted his chest. He pulled back, holding her gaze with no ounce of fear in his deep brown eyes.

“I love you, Spencer,” he said, his voice taking the most candid tone she’d heard from him.

“I love you, too, Bryce. I always have,” she said, feeling her throat constrict, voice cracking. “I should’ve told you sooner how I felt.”

“I think it happened at the right time. I wanted a lot from you when I didn’t even have my own shit together,” he shrugged, still cupping her face in his calloused palm. “I couldn’t even give what I wanted to receive, ya know?”

“Wow… that’s profound,” she said, in all seriousness.

“Oh, you’re making fun of the meathead for being smart now, huh?” He cackled. Keiki didn’t even stir next to him, despite his booming laugh reverberating throughout the empty car.

“No, no, I’m serious. That’s the most self reflection I’ve ever heard from you.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve had a lot of time to think about my mistakes.”

“Me, too. But… we can work through that stuff if you want to talk it out,” she offered, cuddling up to him for warmth again.

“Is therapy your side hustle or something, Spence? Is there something you need to tell me?” He teased, tickling her ribs with his freehand.

She let out an ear piercing shriek, completely caught off guard. “Bryce! Stop it! Please,” she said between laughs, noting the way he smoothly slid his arm around her waist, so that when he stopped, they were closer than before.

“Can you two shut up? I’m trying to sleep,” Keiki grumbled, taking them out of their moment.

“Oh, so you’re exhausted from scaring the shit out of me. By all means, get your beauty sleep,” he said, taking the headband Spencer borrowed from him, slingshotting it directly at Keiki’s forehead.

“That’s it!” Keiki shouted, leaping up on the bench and grabbing Bryce in a headlock, scuffling with him while he most definitely let her win.

Spencer was thankful their car was empty as chaos ensued but she couldn’t help herself from smiling at the fight in front of her – they’d never done typical sibling things like that before. They were robbed of normality from such a young age, and a playful fight was a step in the right direction.

“Uncle, uncle!” Bryce called out convincingly, winking at Spencer. Keiki’s fingers were tangled in his hair, one of his arms trapped in the crook of her elbow. He swatted at her face, trying to get her to let him go.

“We don’t have any uncles,” Keiki said, chomping down on his hand.

“Ow! You little shit – I need these for work –” He hissed.

“Yeah, you didn’t think I was gonna go for the kill? Serves you right for underestimating me,” she huffed, hopping off of him and back into her spot on the bench.

“I won’t do that again,” he smiled softly, reaching over to tousle her hair.

The doors slid open, startling them all.

“I’ll go ahead so you can talk to your girlfriend. Bye, Spence,” Keiki said, waving, strutting out towards the stairs without a second glance.

Her heart swelled at the younger Lahela sibling’s use of the nickname Bryce coined for her.

“So…” She said, as they stepped out into the chill night air for the last time, the first rays of sunlight peeking over the tops of the buildings. “What do we do now?”

“What, after this thrilling conclusion to our months of back and forth?”

“Bryce,” she rolled her eyes, barely holding back a smile. “We barely even talked any of this out. I mean like… where do we go from here?”

“As far as I’m concerned, we’re clean slating it.”

“You don’t wanna talk about that stuff at the party? Or in the supply closet?” She winced. “Maybe when we wanna tackle that, but as of right now, I’m just happy to have you all to myself,” he grinned, snaking his arms around her hips, leaning in to press another kiss on her bottom lip.

“You don’t know how fucking badly I wanna bring you back home right now,” he murmured against her lips.

She groaned, lacing her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. “God, me too.”

“Soon as I spend some time with Keiki and can get some time set aside for us, I’m not letting you out of my sight,” he smirked, eliciting a shudder from her.

“I guess we’re dating now, huh?” She raised her brows, quirking her mouth to the side. “Don’t tell your roommates yet, please. I wanna see how long it takes them to put two and two together,” he said, a mischievous look in his eye.

“As long as you don’t tell yours,” she teased.

“Keiki’s definitely gonna notice we’re a thing if you keep showing up and leaving with wobbly legs,” he said, and raised a brow at her.

“Shit, you’re really flirty today,” she giggled, her face flushing because of both the Boston air and his innuendos.

“I’m making up for lost time, baby,” he grinned, pulling her in for what seemed like the hundredth kiss that night, but it felt just as incredible as their first supply closet makeout.

Although they had to part ways that night, both of them were rejuvenated in a way they hadn’t been in months – since they were noncommittally hooking up, secretly hoping the other made some kind of move to solidify what was between them.

And although it took way too fucking long for her to come around, Spencer was finally giving him what he deserved. Every single part of her. No distractions, no restraints, no excuses.

Every quip, every embrace, every kiss they shared that night nourished the flora of her heart, quenching her desperate thirst for his validation like a gentle summer rain, and she basked in it, head upturned like a silent thank you to the universe for giving her the chance to mend what she’d broken.

The vines that’d once had her heart in a constricting hold made way for the blossoming flowers; they’d both never forget their past mistakes, passion-fueled arguments, or the pain they’d endured at the hands of each other, but amidst those heated moments, amidst the beautiful disaster, their garden of love budded, a harmonious existence.

––––

tags: @beccadavenport ; @senatorraines ; @felix-hauville ; @messofakind ; @violinet ; @hudush ; @altairadtaz ; @agentdumortain ; @drsobemoji ; @levineseth ; @omgjasminesimone ; @lahellacute ; @doctorsurferbro ; @eleanorbloom ; @tarajoyful ; @bobbysmckenzie ; @raleiighcarrera ; @pixeljazzy 

[naivesilver]

Just curious, but do you have a masterpost about why do you hate EotN so much?

I don't, but I can make you one RIGHT NOW, anon sjhalsshhf

Remember, this is merely my personal opinion: I know there are many people for whom this movie evokes childhood nostalgia and whatnot, and that's valid of them - I feel the same about things that could only very generously be described as cringey, so I'm not in a position to judge anyone.

That being said, I'll at least try to be brief:

first of all, the movie is confusing right from the start - it's supposed to be a sequel of the book story, but at the same times some events just...happen again? Puppettino at least knew Pinocchio as a puppet, even if we ignore literally everything else, so how did that happen?

you gotta be a particularly interesting Fairy if you don't want to incur in my wrath, and this one definitely isn't. Cheap copy of the Disney one with poor fashion sense and a nerve-grating singing voice who dares inflict that living-puppet-curse on ANOTHER creature beside Pinocchio. Mind your fucking business, lady.

dirty poor animation that allows for frames like this one

Willikers is literally runner-up for worst Cricket-esque character of all time. Useless, annoying AND responsible for that bug town sideplot that had me staring slack-jawed at the screen with shock. Pinocchio did the right thing knocking him off to play messenger, though you know what would have been EVEN better????? Ye olde carpenter's hammer, that's what.

no Fox and Cat, just racist stereotype Monkey and dumb Raccoon

no Coachman, either, though according to this movie an evil gondolier and a creepy casino bouncer can take his spot perfectly

most despicable narrative choice yet, NO LAMPWICK - instead what we get is a mandatory heterosexual crush for Pinocchio who isn't even sentient until the last five minutes of the movie, luring the audience into a debate over Puppettino's less-than-PG intentions about these two underage puppets

okay, no, you know what, hold your horses: who the fuck approved this movie???? Because the premise is batshit insane on its own (though I would have eagerly taken "Pinocchio is actually a pawn in the fight between good and evil" as a main plot if it had been executed properly), but then you add the endless list of deviations from book canon, the peculiar narrative choices, the plot holes, the mix-and-match of settings (going from vague XIX century to a modern hotel to a tie-dye D&D/Wonderland environment sure was a DecisionTM), the politically incorrectness of it all - and you find yourself with a fucking mess in your hands. And to top it all off, the cast was nothing less than stellar - James Earl Jones was in it, for fuck's sake. Geppetto's VA was in Happy Days, as I'm sure my mother would be delighted to find out. The Italian voice for Pinocchio used to dub Barbie in the various movies of the series, which is wonderful if you want to picture this poor deranged boy yelling YOU'RE JUST LIKE ME - I'M JUST LIKE YOU. Honestly, I get so speechless every time I think about it, I hope my shock transpires from these words alone.

one thing they did right, though: the scene where Pinocchio dances until he turns into a puppet SLAPS. It's fucking horrifying, as any Pinocchio adaptation should be. You're not canon compliant unless you're torturing your child protagonist. 8yo me (who for some reason owned a book version of this godforsaken movie) ate that shit right up.

I feel like I've forgotten something, but to be fair, I spend so much time yelling about EotN it'll probably come up in conversation sooner or later. Sorry for the chaos, anon, it's just how we live here - I hope I have exhausted your curiosity and that you aren't too mad at me now LMAO

[rovewritesit]

Angel Of My Dreams (Chapter 1) John Deacon x Reader Series

I’ve read so many fan fics in the past four months and I thought it was high time to try my hand at it. I’ve created this side blog so that I can 1) Express my love for Queen and 2) Not annoy the randos from high school and college who still follow my main. This’ll be a slow burn folks, so hold on to your hats.

Series summary: After reluctantly joining a band with your childhood best friends, you are thrust into oncoming stardom with no sea legs and an overwhelming sense of anxiety. But you just might find your way, thanks to some seasoned pros by your side. And the interest of one particular bassist.

This series is a work of fiction, and is loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4

Pairing: John Deacon x Reader (eventually)

Chapter Warnings: Lots o’ curses

Chapter Summary: This is basically just some set up for the series. No Deacy yet, but a meet-cute to happen very soon! I got the band name with the help of some random band name generator so be kind. I’m hoping to introduce in some songs readers may not have heard - I was thinking of “Heart of the Night” by Juice Newton while writing this, hence the single name and album.

Song/Title Inspiration: Angel - Fleetwood Mac

- - - - - - -

Days of Our Lives Documentary Shoot - 2010

(Brian May and Roger Taylor Joint Interview)

“The early 80s were huge for us, for sure. I believe we were at our biggest then, internationally speaking.” Brian states, glancing over to Roger.

“Yes, Another One Bites the Dust really set things a-flame I think. The traveling and playing were constant. The crowds getting bigger by the venue. Parties, hotels, girls, more parties. We were meeting just so many people.” Roger adds.

“And one of those being a certain American female rock singer.” The interviewer adds quietly from off-camera.

Roger glances over to him with a questioning look, but Brian catches on quick, like always.

“Ah yes, that particular rock goddess. We did meet her around then, I believe, yes. Maybe a few years after.” Brian says knowingly, still playing along.

Roger stares into space with a confused look on his face until the realization hits him. “Are we talking about Y/N?” Roger mutters to Brian. “Yes” Brian chuckles, patting his friend on the shoulder.

“Oh, what a spit-fire she is! Not back then though. Fred really worked some magic with that one. Almost inseparable those two were.” Roger laughs out, a wave of nostalgia washing over his face.

Brian raises his large eyebrows, “Deacy would beg to differ I think.”

Roger smirks, “Oh, well that’s a whole different story.”

- - - - - - -

1982 - MTV Studios, New York City

You run your hands up and down your thighs, trying to will your left knee to stop repeatedly bouncing up and down. The satin of your pants does nothing for the layer of sweat on your clammy hands. You fold them together in your lap and gaze around the studio instead, taking in the bustling of crew members as they ready for the pre-taped interview. The god-like VJ, Alan Hunter, sits in a chair off to the side as someone artfully pieces his blonde locks into place. He grins over at you with a small wave. You limply lift your hand in a greeting, pasting on a small smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.

You catch your pained expression as you glimpse a monitor off-camera. A friendly woman backstage had painted your face to the point of being almost unrecognizable. Gone was the evidence under your eyes of the restless sleep you’d fought the previous night. They were wide and doed, rather than their normal crescent shape. Your lips full and vibrant, your hair bounced and fanned out around your face. And your skin seemed to be glowing, masking the spots that had popped up overnight from stress. You looked every bit the rock goddess the label hoped to paint you as, and the exact opposite of the nerves currently threatening to overtake your body.

“Y/N, I can feel you vibrating from here. Take a deep breath. It’s gonna be fine.” Rich commented from beside you. His legs were splayed out, his arms bent behind his head. Looking as relaxed as can be, as if he were on his couch at home catching a movie marathon, about to doze off.

“How can you be so calm right now?” You rush out. “Who knows how many people are going to see this interview. Do you know how many times a day I accidentally let the F word fly out of my mouth?”

Rich lets out a snort. “I happen to know exactly how much you curse, thank you. Yesterday you said fuck 3 times in one sentence. It was charming, my mom loved it.” He moves his right arm to squeeze around your shoulders. Usually, it would be a comforting display of friendship, but you shake it off.

“And look at those three. Already so at home, I see.” You nod to the three other members of the band. Steve is exuding energy like yourself, but it’s excitement that bubbles from him. His eyes flit around the room quickly as he taps out some unknown rhythm on his bent legs. A wide grin permanently fixed on his boyish features.

At the far end of the couch, Eddie and Lawrence are wrapped up in a not-so-silent game of knuckles.

“Son of a-- Will you take off those damn rings? It’s my turn and I’m still getting bruised.” Lawrence huffs. Eddie wiggles his long, skilled, silver-clad fingers in front of his face and raises his eyebrows. “It’s all about the look, baby. Gotta play the part of the guitar god.”

“Will you both knock it off.” You call over to them. “We need both those sets of hands in playing shape for tomorrow night.”

Eddie turns, probably to counter with some playful comment about how you mother them too much, but Alan approaches.

“Alright, guys. And girl.” He flashes his perfectly white teeth your way again. “We’re about 5 minutes out from going up. Anybody need anything? Water, vodka, beer…” He turns his gaze to Steve, who is still tapping lightly on his legs. “A Xanax, perhaps?”

“Waters all around would be great, thanks.” You offer. Alan nods to a twitchy PA waiting to his side and they hurry off.

“Oh wait up, a Bud Light too, if you have any!” Eddie calls after them. The other three boys echo the same as well.

“You can take the boys out of Long Island…” you mutter to yourself. Rich teasingly pokes your side. “And something stiff for the lady!” He shouts out.

“In all manner of ways” Steve giggles. You feign a shocked expression and reach over to place a gentle slap to the side of his head. He looks over with big apologetic eyes and you stifle a laugh.

In record time, the lanky PA rushes back over with a myriad of drinks, all threatening to topple over on the tray they were precariously balanced on. Another PA trails behind, handing you all water, which you’re in desperate need of. They hand the drinks out one by one and stop before you. “Your water, Miss. And I didn’t know what you liked so I have a jack and coke, a whiskey sour, and a gin and tonic.”

“The gin and tonic is great, thanks.” They hurriedly hand you the drink and go to turn away. “Love your hair by the way.” You tell them. “I’m absolute shit at styling mine. Guess I’ll have to learn now.” They smile back at you and run a hand through their short locks before disappearing amongst the rest of the crew.

“Okay, we’re ready to rock n’ roll!” Alan exclaims, getting the band’s attention as he sits down in a chair next to your side of the couch. “We’re going to start off with a few basics on the band. Your lower thirds will have your instruments labeled but feel free to explain how you guys started out, your influences, your process. I’ll prompt you in between and then we'll talk about the album and promote your upcoming tour towards the end. Should take 15 minutes tops, so keep your answers brief. But I won’t say no to any rowdy stories you want to throw in.” He finishes with a wink.

The band nods along as you gulp down a breath, your palms becoming even slicker. The stage manager’s high voice rings out around the studio. “Playback ready! Live to tape in 5.. 4...” Rich places a hand over your knee and gives a squeeze. “Light em’ up, Bun” he mutters in your ear.

“3.. 2..” She holds up a finger and then points it at Alan, a wide smile already set on his face. The camera light flicks red as the MTV open plays from speakers around the room. Alan beings as the song fades out.

“We’re here in the studio and boy, am I excited to get to know this next band. Over at MTV we’ve been watching the steady rise of their single “Heart of the Night” on the charts. And as an added surprise, they’re here to introduce their very first music video. I’m very pleased to welcome to the studio, Lo & The Limbs!”

You try to relax your face as a camera pans across the band and settles on a two-shot of you and Alan. You know your eyes are gleaming with anxiety so you glance down the couch, silently praying for one of the boys to take the lead.

“Thanks for having us Alan, it’s such a trip to be here.” Eddie says with ease, resting his forearms on his knees.

“So, I have to ask. Who is Lo? Is it you Lawerence?” Alan questions the piano player.

“Oh god, no.” Lawrence chuckles. “Our high school was affectionately called Lo High, for Long Island HighSchool of the Arts. So we sort of tacked that on while playing during those years to let people know where we were from. That and well, as you can see we’re all above 6 foot except for Y/N, so a lot of limbs going on here.”

Alan gives a short laugh. “You released your debut album, Quiet Lies, earlier this year to growing success. Why don’t you tell me how you all started out.”

“Well, the boys and I have been together for a few years. We’ve been friends since grade school and we always just used to jam about. As we got older we started playing local bars back on Long Island to mostly middle-aged crowds, trying to break in, but it wasn’t working. Then Rich had the idea to invite Y/N to join up and it’s all kind of all taken off from there.” Eddie explains.

“We needed a pretty face to balance out all these ugly mugs” Steve pipes up.

“It took a while for her to finally concede though. She was off being too studious for the likes of us.” Rich adds on with a smile and nudge to your side. Your eyes grow wide as you feel a question directed at you coming on.

“Is that true, Y/N?”

“I- I guess, I was at NYU studying documentary filmmaking.” You choke out, but continue on. “Love this lighting set up, by the way, it really hides all sins.” That gets a light chuckle out of the crew surrounding you.

“And these sins you’re hiding are…” Alan grins but quickly bounces to the next topic. “Certainly a good call, Rich. Heart of the Night is the only song off the album that Y/N is singing lead on and look how well it’s doing. How did that happen?”

“Most of our songs were already written from before when we finally got the money to record. We wanted Y/N to feel a part of it, so she went on and wrote Heart of the Night and we were all very pleasantly surprised that it’s become such a hit.” Steve explains. “She also directed the music video we’ll be debuting today. I can’t believe she let us do all the things we did in that… well, you’ll just have to see for yourselves. We can be a bit of a handful.” The boys all chuckle.

“That and she plays the weirdest collection of instruments. Rhythm guitar, any type of strings, the saxophone… She's a boss on the harmonica.” Eddie turns to you as he speaks. “You just need to get over those pesky little nerves about your singing, Bun!” He points in your direction.

You feel the heat rise behind your perfectly painted cheeks at the slip of your nickname. You cast your gaze down at your lap. Not liking how the conversation has turned directly onto you.

Alan quirks an eyebrow at you. “Bun?” He teases.

You have yet to lift your eyes when Rich answers for you. “Bunny, an affectionate nickname. It’s stuck around since grade school when she wandered into Lawrence's backyard in search of a rabbit she was chasing.”

“A rockstar called Bunny. There’s a first for everything.” Alan quips, but quickly notices your displeasure in the current topic. Sensing your growing panic, he addresses the rest of the group. “This has been quite the debut album, with more hits sure to come from it. Any bands you’ve taken inspiration from while writing and producing?”

Rich jumps at the question. “Fleetwood Mac would be a big one. The way they layer their sounds is just unmatchable. You catch something new with every listen of an album of theirs.”

“I can’t be a pianist from Long Island and not mention the granddaddy, Billy Joel.” Lawrence adds. “His songs take you on such a ride. They’re full stories, each one of them.”

“And you, Y/N?” Alan directs the next question. “Who will you be drawing inspiration from when you write your next hit single?”

You smile to yourself. “It’s gotta be Queen for me. I’ve loved every one of their albums. I mean, the way they’ve changed their sound just in the past few years alone. They’re always transcending. Never afraid to try out something new or weave a different genre into one of their songs. But you always know it’s a Queen song. I saw them 2 years ago when they played the Garden, and fu--” You catch yourself as you get more animated. “And they were all just so on. Perfectly in sync. There’s something so distinct about their sound, so practiced. I’d love to get to their level, to be able to experiment like that. To give joy in the way they’ve given it to me.” You finish. Realizing you’ve rambled for a bit, you turn your eyes downwards yet again.

“I think that’s the most I’ve heard you talk since you came into the studio!” Alan laughs. “Well, you heard it here first folks, Y/N L/N is a Queen fan, just like the rest of us. I’m sure you’re just as excited about their new album as well.” You nod quickly as Rich hides a smile. Knowing full well you’ll be first in line to purchase their new album, Hot Space when it drops.

“But before you get off to writing more hits, I believe you have a tour coming up!” Alan states, signaling that the interview is wrapping up.

“Yeah, we have a small American tour starting in February. But until then we’ll be opening up for Hall and Oates during their tour of the NorthEast next month.” Steve says excitedly, bouncing slightly in his seat.

“And with that, I think we’ll roll into the long-anticipated music video and directorial debut for the lovely Y/N L/N. Thank you all so much for coming in today and I can’t wait to see what’s next on the horizon for you. Here’s Lo & The Limbs with Heart of the Night!” Alan keeps his painted smile till the red light vanishes from above the lens on the large pedestal camera in front of him.

You breathe out the breath you’d been choking on as Rich puts an arm around your shoulders. He leans in and whispers lightly, “And only one hint of a fuck, ladies and gentlemen. She might just make it in this business after all.”

- - - - - - -

One Month Later - Veterans Memorial Coliseum - New Haven, Connecticut

The Limbs bound off the stage in full force, glistening with sweat and excitement. It was the largest crowd they’d played for by far. 10,000 people cheered from the audience as roadies and crew moved around them to set up for the main act, Hall and Oates. Rich spreads his long arms and huddles the rest of the group into a family hug, your skin sticking to one another, the smell of sweat filling your noses.

“I just want us to all remember this moment.” He speaks to the group, foreheads touching. “Even if nothing happens past this album. That was insane.”

“Absolutely bonkers, dude!” Steve says and he bounces up and down beside you. You all take a deep collective breath and squeeze.

“Alright, get off of me you fucks.” You laugh, untangling yourself from their vast expanse of limbs. “We all stink and I have to get out of all... this” You gesture to the skin-tight bodysuit your best friend, Dawn, had insisted you wear. Eddie presses a light kiss to your temple as he lets you into the dressing room first to change out of their view.

You close the door and sigh, glancing at yourself in the mirrors that line one wall of the room. Your eyes are bright, your hair is two times the size of when you went out on stage an hour before, and your makeup looks like you’d been in a fight. Grinning to yourself, you start to unlatch the halter top of the bodysuit, excited for the air to cool your skin.

Just as you are about to shimmy out of the rest of the ensemble, the door bursts open.

“Shit! Lawrence, what the hell?!” Scrambling to cover your top half.

Lawrence trains his eyes to the ceiling as he speaks. “Bunny, you gotta… just cover up and get your ass out here. You just... You gotta see, c’mon.”

Flustered, you hurry to redress your sticky body. After making sure everything is properly covered, you step out into the hallway backstage, already glaring at the boys. They’re all tight-lipped, staring at one another. “Okay, someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?” You say loudly. “Shhhhh” Rich hisses as he gestures behind him with a shake of his head. You glance over his shoulder to see the backs of two men. John Hall and Daryl Oates.

“Yeah, okay... I don’t get it. We’ve hung out with them like 5 times. Why are we fangirling?”

Rich widens his eyes at you and you glance back at them again. This time they part and you can catch a glimpse of who they’ve been talking to.

The flash of a tight leather jacket, a mustache, and two front teeth shining while laughter erupts from behind them.

You gasp.

“Fucking, fuck. That’s Freddie fucking Mercury.” You say, a bit too loud.

The bold man in question locks eyes with you. Something mischievous dances behind them as he narrows his gaze. Daryl and John move to their roadies to get fixed up before heading out on stage and Freddie lets out a sharp burst of laughter as he makes his way over. Your stomach churns with embarrassment but you can’t tear your eyes from his.

“Quite the redundancy of expletives, my dear. All you had to do was say hello.” he grins at you, all teeth. You’re not one to get too clammy in front of other musicians, but your voice gets trapped in your throat. You pray to whatever gods are out there that your eyes don’t get any wider.

Eddie’s easy charm luckily saves you. “This beautiful songstress right here is Y/N L/N.” You barely lift your arms as Freddie pulls you in for a light hug and kiss on the cheek. “But you can call her Bunny.” Eddie grins. So much for easy charm you think as you stare daggers into the profile of his face.

“Ha! Bunny? Oh my, that is wonderful.” Freddie chuckles. “It sounds as if you’re a socialite... Or a stripper. I can’t tell.” He beams at you. You can’t help but beam right back.

“Come along. Let us watch the show and you can tell me which one it is.” He says with a wink. “And introduce me to these giants you call your band.” He grabs your arm and leads you off, the boys in tow. Bouncing with excitement for what’s to come.

[2manyfandoms2count]

You can count on me (I will be there for you)

Hi, I’m Elle, and I have absolutely no idea how you can hack into a computer beyond the usual *typing sounds* “I’m in” you see in movies. I have therefore decided to leave Max and Markov do their thing backstage while I focus on a little mother-son moment (which there’ll be more of later, of course). Enjoy! xx

Also, small warning: there’s swearing on the last line. I think it’s justified.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | AO3

---

Chapter 7

Ladybug shivers as they step out of the Voyage portal. Chat Noir pinpointed a blind spot area in a corner of the Mansion’s lobby from which they could hack into the house’s elaborate security system, and Max managed to get all three of them in exactly the right place. Apparently Gabriel Agreste didn't think much could happen beside the grand staircase; remembering the time she'd had to transform there, the spotted lady thinks it's just as well.

While her travel companions huddle around Max’s computer to deactivate the cameras, she takes a look around the space, making sure to stay within the boundaries Chat Noir indicated. How Adrien managed to grow up into the warm and vibrant person he is, while living in this austere place will always be beyond her. Whoever thought that displaying a giant mourning painting in an already colourless room was a good idea clearly doesn’t live here. She supposes it could be alright, were the place a museum, but as a house? It doesn’t help the large volumes feel homey in the least.

“Alright, cameras are looped, we can move around now.” Pegasus closes his computer and stands a little taller. “So, what exactly are we looking for, and how should we go about it?”

“Physically, purple butterfly-themed stationary, and anything that could compromise Ladybug or suggest a tie with Hawkmoth,” Chat Noir lists. “Even though I think we have a better chance of finding the latter two on a protected file. It’s not like my- Mr Agreste to leave things lying around in the open.”

Ladybug nods along. “Where do you think we’re most likely to find those?”

“My best guess would be Gabriel’s atelier, and Nathalie’s room. She’s been keeping quite a lot of paperwork there, since her illness a couple of years ago.” Her partner shrugs. “And I think anything numerical would definitely be on Gabriel’s computer.”

“If that's okay, I think I'll try to access the data from Adrien’s computer, if he still has it in his room? I seem to recall seeing some links last time we connected to it, and there’ll probably be less security to bypass.” Max suggests.

“And less risk of leaving fingerprints, or anything that could make Gabriel suspect anything was touched during his absence.” Chat Noir muses. “Good call, Max. How about you go to Adrien’s room with Markov, LB, you go to Nathalie’s room, and I check the study?”

“Sounds good to me.” Ladybug smiles.

“Perfect.” Pegasus nods. “Should I detransform?”

“Maybe that would be wise. Let’s give Kaalki some time to recharge so we’re good to go later on.” She nods, and hands him a box of macarons she managed to ‘steal’ before they left. It’s not the Kwami’s favourite food, but it will have to do.

Chat Noir watches the both of them run up the stairs and separate at the top, smiling as Ladybug’s newest costume addition flutters with her movements. Tikki must have really liked the veil for it to stick through the transformation. It looks good, and it’s a good reminder that they don’t have all the time in the world.

He takes a deep breath and opens the double doors that lead to his father’s study.

The room hasn’t changed over the years. Some designers, Marinette included, like to sprawl their ideas out in giant mood boards, pictures, sketches and fabric swatches gradually invading the walls as their collection takes shape. Gabriel Agreste isn’t one of these people. The decoration is as stark as ever, despite an upcoming fashion show, pictures of Adrien pulled up from different ads, and marble statues seemingly being the only personal touches. The only real spark of colour is his mother’s golden portrait, at the far end of the room. He often wondered why it hung there, and not on the mantelpiece, or anywhere else in the room where his father could see it while working. He can’t see her not being a source of inspiration.

He walks up to the painting and swivels it to reveal the family safe. It seems like a good place to start.

“Plagg, claws in.” He whispers.

The dark figure swirls out of his ring and spins around a little, taking in his surroundings.

“Gotta say, kiddo, I’m glad that we’re moving out soon. This place always gave me the creeps.” Plagg floats up to the pictures lining the walls. Adrien can’t tell if there’s a hint of nostalgia in his eyes as he takes in the shots of him that were taken around the time they met.

“I thought the Spirit of Destruction knew no fear?” His lips curl into an amused smile.

“I didn’t say I was afraid, just that I didn’t like this place.” Plagg refrains himself very hard from knocking over, or straight up Cataclysming, Adrien can't tell, a frame showing a very proud Gabriel, probably at the end of one of his first fashion shows. “Anyway, what are you doing, detransforming in the middle of you top secret mission? What if your lover walks in?” He asks mischievously.

“She’s my wife now, actually.” Adrien grins, still giddy at the thought.

“I know, just wanted to give you the satisfaction of saying it out loud.” He grins back. “Consider it your wedding present from me; you get to be sappy for the day. Not too much, though, or I’ll end up retching on your father’s stuff.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it won’t come to that. I just need you to open the safe, like you did that one time? Then I’ll retransform, on the off-chance Marinette does decide to come and check on things.”

“No problem.” Plagg zoomed through the heavy metal door, and was back out again a couple of minutes later. “Whew- I don't know if it’s because I’m getting old, but it felt a lot easier the first time around. Got a little Camembert for my troubles?” He pouted.

“That’s weird.” Adrien frowns as he pulls out the cheese box from his suit pocket and tosses him a piece.

“Eh, I wouldn’t sweat it. It was, what? Ten years ago? More? I lose count.” The Kwami catches the cheese and gobbles it down. “Anyway, technologies have evolved since then, and you know your progenitor likes to keep up.”

“True.” Adrien replies pensively as they take a look at the contents of the safe.

The contents looks pretty much identical to the last time they’d broken into it. The same books are stored on the lower shelves, with a couple wads of cash. At eye level, the book about Tibet still sits next to his mother’s picture. The Miraculous Grimoire that had gotten him into so much trouble is gone, he notices, but he doesn't worry too much about it. It could just mean that his father is using it for his next collection.

There’s something else missing, though. He seems to recall that there was a flash of colour around his mother, but maybe he’s remembering it wrong.

He shakes his head to clear the feeling that it's something important as he closes the safe, and calls his transformation phrase.

Swivelling the panel back to its original place, he sighs as he takes in Emilie’s portrait once more.

“Oh, Maman, I wish you were still here.” He says softly. It breaks his heart, but the more time passes, the less he can remember her face. Sure, the paintings and pictures remind him of what she looked like, but picturing her spontaneously in his memories is becoming a struggle.

It’s actually this painting he generally sees when he thinks about her. It’s vibrant, warm, solar, just like she was. He wishes she could have met Marinette. She would have adored her, he knows. She would’ve treated her like the daughter she never had.

“If only you could’ve seen us today. I’m sure you would’ve been a much easier guest than Father’s turning out to be.” He lets out a nervous chuckle, and gently touches the painting’s surface. It’s something his father always forbade him from doing, but he isn’t there, it’s his wedding day, and one of the most important people in his life isn't there to celebrate with him.

As he slides his fingers over the elaborate dress, wondering if she ever wore one like this, and if so, if his father kept it, he notices that there are some spots which are smooth, almost cool, in the midst of the paint asperities. He frowns, and touches them again; they’re definitely metal, glinting a little in the afternoon light.

Tentatively, he pushes down on one of them. The button sinks below the surface, but nothing happens.

He tries pressing on two groups, located approximately at eye level. This time, there’s a slight whirring sound, and he feels the ground move under his feet.

He’s too stunned to jump out when he starts to descend below ground level, his hands automatically slamming to the sides of the tube, eyes widening in panic.

“Chat Noir!” Ladybug and Max burst through the doors just before he is completely engulfed by darkness. She’s pale as she watches him disappear, clutching purple envelopes and something else in her hands. Max doesn’t look too good either.

“Shit” is the last thing he hears as he travels to whatever dark corner of the Mansion the tube is taking him to. He's not sure who said it, but something tells him they all did.