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mst3kproject · 4 years

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Frankenstein’s Castle of Freaks

This movie has a real all-star cast as far as us MSTies are concerned. There’s Rossano Brazzi, who was Phineas Prune in The Christmas that Almost Wasn’t; Edmund Purdom, whom we know as Griba from Ator, the Fighting Eagle; and Salvatore Baccaro, the leader of the cavemen in Starcrash. The film itself is absolute, irredeemable trash and I love it like my own garbage child.

We begin out of nowhere with a bunch of peasants beating a caveman to death. What? Where are we? When are we? Who are these people? Why is one of them a cavemen wearing a fur loincloth and the rest are just normal people in pants? Why are they beating him? Did he do something that pissed them off, or do they just hate him because they’re, like, anti-Neanderthal racists? What the fuck is going on? We will never really find out. We just cut straight to Dr. Frankenstein hauling the troglocorpse into his lab.

That’s how this movie rolls. Don’t bother asking questions, just try to keep up.

Count Frankenstein’s daughter Maria has returned to her childhood home, bringing along her fiancé Eric and her friend Krista, who has an unhealthy relationship with polka-dots. Krista is immediately fascinated by the Count and his work, and he with her in turn. It doesn’t take long for Krista to find out that Frankenstein is carrying on reanimation experiments in his basement, but that’s actually the least of the bullshit going on around here. There are more cavemen out there, but there’re also rivalries and love triangles among the inevitable gaggle of deformed assistants, and the local villagers are angry about a spate of grave robbing and determined to run the Frankensteins out of town. The ‘monster’ (I’m not sure it quite counts) is kind of an afterthought.

See, Hans the Butler hates Genz the Dwarf (even though it’s actually Kregan the hunchback who is fucking Hans’ wife) so he gets him fired, and Genz swears revenge on the whole Frankenstein household. Wandering in the woods, Genz meets and befriends a second caveman, naming him ‘Ook’ and teaching him how to rape women in the hopes that he will do violence to Maria Frankenstein. Ook, however, kidnaps Krista instead. At about the same time, Genz sneaks back into Castle Frankenstein to free the first caveman, Goliath, whom the Count has been keeping strapped to a table after bringing him back to life, and who has also fallen in love with Krista as the latter assists the Count with his work. Goliath goes on a murderous rampage, then follows Genz back to the cave where Ook is keeping Krista. Sure enough, this leads to a caveman-vs-caveman battle for the girl!

Man, I would love to see earlier drafts of this script, mostly because I’m dying to know whether some prior incarnation of it actually had anything to do with Mary Shelley’s book or even with previous Frankenstein movies. I mean, it starts with the servants digging up a corpse, and ends with a torch-and-pitchfork mob destroying the Count’s creation… the beginning and end of a Frankenstein movie are present. In between those, however, it wanders off on this bizarre tangent about the local cryptids. As it reached the screen, the only thing Frankenstein’s Castle of Freaks seems to have in common with its source material is the threat to the Count’s girlfriend, which was issued by the Creature in the original story. Technically, even the grave robbing and re-animating have nothing to do with Frankenstein, or the Modern Prometheus – the book never actually says how the Creature’s body was created. The idea of piecing it together from corpses originates with the Boris Karloff movie.

Let me describe some more of the stuff that goes on here, in order to give you the flavour of the experience. For starters, Salvatore Baccaro, playing Ook the caveman, is credited as ‘Boris Lugosi’ in the opening credits. The first time I saw this movie I snorted water up my nose when that popped on screen.

Later in the movie there’s a flashback to that first peasants-vs-caveman scene, and it answers none of the questions I listed above. Why are there cavemen in these woods? I dunno, there just are. What did the cavemen do to piss off the locals? I don’t know that, either… they may have been stealing livestock, I guess, but they don’t seem to have been a threat to the people until Genz taught them about rape. Kind of makes one wonder what happened to the cavewomen, since we never meet one and these guys don’t seem to know what women are, as illustrated by Ook initially thinking their nubile young captive is going to be dinner. Also, although there are two cavemen, they don’t know each other. Genz has to introduce them!

There’s a bit where Genz is hiding behind a clock to watch Maria and Eric have sex. The butler comes along and chews him out for it, sends him to his room, and then he stands there and watches them for a while.

In another scene, Maria and Krista go skinny-dipping in a mineral spring, and the longer it goes on the more the dialogue sounds like it’s going to break into lesbian porn. I am particularly fond of the exchange where Maria says, “don’t worry, this dress is designed to be easy to get out of,” and Krista, impressed, replies, “I’ll say it is!”

The subplot in which the butler’s wife is having an affair with the hunchback has no effect on the plot whatsoever. The butler never even finds out about it. There’s a scene in which they run off to the barn to slap each other and smooch, and then the movie forgets about it. Astonishingly, the same is true of the corpse the servants dig up early on. They exhume the body of a recently dead woman, Genz cops a feel and leaves some footprints at the scene so that the villagers can figure out who was responsible, and… that’s it. She doesn’t even hang around as a gratuitous zombie like the grave-robbed girl in The Atomic Brain.

According to Wikipedia, nobody will admit to directing this movie. Like many Italian films, the director used a pseudonym, and the cast apparently disagree on even such basics as his nationality. Some of them think he was Spanish, but Simonetta Vitelli, who played Maria Frankenstein, insists he was an American.

At the end of the movie, Ook is the first of the cavemen to be killed, and we get to see Genz weeping over his friend’s dead body. Then he and Krista hold each other as the mob closes in on Goliath. This is supposed to be a tender moment but it looks a lot like Genz (who is, you must remember, around four feet tall) is enjoying his faceful of boobs. Since all alternative love interests for Krista are now dead, maybe we’re supposed to think she ended up marrying Genz.

Finally, as Goliath’s body burns, Edmund Perdom intones, “there’s a bit of the monster in all of us, especially where there’s fear.” I’ll drink to that, my dude. ‘Twas beauty killed the beast. He tampered in God’s domain.

That probably is supposed to be the movie’s point. The villagers are depicted as suspicious, fearful, and quick to violence, while the cavemen seem to have been relatively peaceful types until Genz taught them how to rape. It’s very much the Homo sapiens who are the monsters there. Frankenstein’s servants are all assorted shades of horrible, from Genz the necrophile to the nasty cackling butler to the adulterous hunchback and cook. Count Frankenstein himself isn’t quite so overtly evil but it’s clear that he’s not very interested in the moral dimension of his work.

Even if that’s an intentional theme rather than just a pithy closing line, I don’t think anybody thought about it very hard. The rest of Frankenstein’s Castle of Freaks is too much of a mess. There’s no real plot, no identifiable protagonist, it’s sleazy and incoherent and at times it’s horrifyingly abelist… and yet, for reasons I cannot explain, it’s weirdly entertaining.

Maybe it’s just that everything in the film is so damn ridiculous. So much of what happens comes out of nothing and goes right back into it… a series of mind-boggling what the fuck moments that surprise the viewer over and over. The impression is that the writers are throwing horror concepts at the screen to see what sticks, but nothing does.

Maybe it’s that this is another villain-centric piece. You know I like those. I guess maybe Krista is the heroine? She seems to do the fewest horrible things over the course of the story, but she’s not a good person, either. She’s totally into the Count’s creepy reanimation experiments, and makes only a token protest about the idea of informed consent. Edmund Perdom’s Inspector character is one you’d expect to try and do something about these goings on, but he never does. Maria and Eric are only in the movie so it can have a sex scene.

Whatever the reason, the result is inexplicably charming. Between the easily distracted plot, the gratuitous breasts, the bad dubbing, the complete failure to either frighten or titillate, and the fact that it tries to tie itself to a lucrative franchise it really has nothing to do with, Frankenstein’s Castle of Freaks is almost the perfect example of a bad Italian horror flick from the 70’s.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #frankenstein's castle of freaks #tw: rape #tw: ableism #70s

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creepy-spooghetti · 3 years

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A Hapless Endearment [Creepypasta x F. Reader]

Chapter 10 - Tag, You’re It

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Jack doesn't return for several minutes, though she can hear the sound of muffled talking from the confines of another room nearby. The words are incoherent and muffled, but considering that there's nobody else in this house that she knows of, she guesses that he's on the phone, mostly based on the fact that the only voice she can hear is Jack's. She ponders what he said to her and tucks her knees into her chest, trying to tame the steadily rising fear that's making itself more and more apparent in her chest.

She knew from the beginning of all this chaos that there had to be a deeper meaning buried beneath the surface, even though she didn't want to acknowledge it and instead opted to come up with valid explanations for everything that happened, reasons that wouldn't make her seem crazy. But now? Now, it doesn't look like she has another option but to accept it. She has to admit, Jack made some pretty reasonable points, even if the points in question take a great suspension of disbelief. How else is she supposed to explain the things that have taken place over the past several days? She didn't have a clue about what was happening and why it was happening, and now she does. But is it the honest-to-God truth?

Being stalked by some supernatural being is definitely hard to believe, but so is mentally predicting the death of one's aunt and uncle, being kidnapped by someone without eyes, and subconsciously drawing some kind of freaky symbol. She hasn't another explanation for all of the eerie occurrences lately, what else is she supposed to think? At least she's been provided with an answer—whether that answer is correct or not has yet to be solved—but it's still an answer. It's more information than she could ever get out of her grandparents or anyone else. A therapist probably wouldn't even know what's going on with her. This way, she has a theory to go off of, something to build around until she finds something more... realistic. More believable.

Her eyes flick up to Jack as he re-enters the room, being ultimately pulled from her deep thoughts and watching him stuff, what she identifies as a phone, into his pocket. He turns her direction, his uncanny oozing gaze sending goosebumps up the length of her arms. "There will be someone over here in a bit to pick you up and take you to Brian's house. She's bringing a pair of shoes with her, too."

Oh, it's a girl. Maybe I can find some common ground and convince her to let me go. Unless she's trapped here too... She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear and sits more naturally in the chair, her feet meeting the hardwood floor and her posture straightening to come across as more intimidating. Granted, she knows she isn't going to intimidate this monster of a man, but it makes her feel a little safer anyway.

"Who is she?" Her words are sharp and straight-to-the-point as she stares up at his tall frame in an attempt to seem, for the most part, fearless.

"Wisteria. Don't get your hopes up, she's almost as bad as Jeff." Releasing a huff, she rolls her eyes though chooses not to respond. "Do you want a glass—no, sorry—do you want a cup of water?" He puts great emphasis on the word 'cup', indirectly reminding her of the way she launched the glass at his head in an attempt to escape previously. It did work out in the end, she supposes, and she would have actually gotten out of this place had Jeff's hellhound for a dog not taken it upon himself to chomp down on her ankle and keep her firmly planted where she laid in the dirt until someone came to retrieve her. That 'someone' being Jeff.

"What, so you can poison me?" She mutters, crossing her arms stubbornly. "I think I'll pass."

"Did you not hear anything I just told you a few minutes ago?" He sighs, running gloved fingers through his copper-brown hair. "If I wanted to hurt you I would have done it by now." Ignoring the dryness in her throat, no doubt from lack of water, she only stares up at him with an obstinate expression, refusing to take anything that he has to offer. After a couple of moments, he too crosses his arms. "Ya know, it won't do you much good if you dehydrate and end up dying anyway."

"I'd rather dehydrate than trust you with anything." They continue to stare at each other for what feels like minutes when in reality it's only around ten seconds before Jack shakes his head in defeat.

"Fine. Suit yourself." He takes a seat on the couch, being mindful to keep a fair amount of distance between himself and Y\n, and leans back to get more comfortable. "I know this is a lot to process, but you're gonna have to get used to the fact that you can't go back home. You can't see your family again, it would be too dangerous for both yourself and them."

"Is that a threat?"

"No. It's a warning. You go back home, try to live a normal life, and you eventually snap. You'd be compelled to go to the very thing you've been trying to avoid and kill whoever got in your way. Even if that includes your family." She leers at him through skeptical e\c eyes, comprehending what he's telling her and trying to brush away the feeling of trepidation that rises within her stomach. "It's happened before. I've seen it, too many times to be proud of. It isn't a nice process."

"You're crazy if you actually think I'd kill someone, much less my own family." It's true that she has less-than-desirable parents, but there's no way that she'd ever lose herself enough to physically harm them or take their lives. She isn't a bad enough kid to do something like that, not even under the direst of circumstances. Especially if it involves her grandparents. They've shown her nothing but kindness and support, why on earth would she ever murder them? The very thought sends shivers down her spine.

"Denial is something most people express at first. But it would happen, whether you wanted it to or not." She shakes her head, furrowing her eyebrows together in objection.

"I would never."

"You say that, but you don't know what he's capable of. You don't know how much power he possesses." She averts her gaze to the ground, hugging her torso insecurely and listening to the slightly muffled words that leave Jack's mouth. "He drives you mad. It may start off subtle, maybe you'll have some bad dreams, or minor coughing fits, nothing too concerning. But it will get worse, and worse, and soon you'll be seeing things that aren't there, becoming paranoid because at every turn you feel like something's watching you, but you don't know where or by what. You'll isolate yourself, refuse to talk to anyone, become distant from your friends, your family, society as a whole. And it will continue getting worse, and worse, and worse until you're at your breaking point. You'll just want it all to stop, you'll just want it to be over. You'll be desperate. So you'll listen to him, obey his commands. He'll take you to your breaking point, all without lifting a finger."

The words leave his mouth slowly, making the situation all the more unnerving. There's a sinister kind of truth to what he says that makes an eerie fog blanket her mind in a sense of dread and impending doom. He's right. She knows he's right. There isn't definite proof, but the very tone of his voice and his serious posture tells her right then. He isn't lying. This is real. This is all real, no matter how much she may try to deny it.

Letting out a shaky sigh, she rubs her face with her hands and attempts to slow the rapid beating of her heart. One question floats to the top of all of her thoughts, and she picks it up and analyzes it for a few moments before speaking. "...Why me?" She sees him tilt his head to the side a bit, silently questioning her inquiry and asking for clarification. She happily delivers. "Why, out of seven billion people, does it want me?" She scrapes a hand through her hair in an effort to compose herself, her voice trembling. "What did I do to attract it? I'm just...I'm just a normal person. Why would it want me to do...whatever?"

He takes a few seconds to respond, stringing the words together in his head and coming up with the best possible answer. "I...I don't know." He shrugs lightly, craning his neck toward the couch beneath him. "You told me you had some family issues. He preys on the weak and vulnerable. If you've been going through stressful things, that's likely to be a big contributor to the reason he chose you."

"So you're telling me that I'm being hunted by a paranormal entity because I have garbage for parents?" She chokes down the bile threatening to rise in her throat. "How is that my fault?"

"It doesn't have to be," he simply says, shifting in his seat to better face her. "He's attracted to whoever is at a bad time in life and isn't handling it very well. If you've been stressed, he'll try to get you. It isn't always the victim's fault." Thoughts swarm her mind, though they zip by so quickly she barely has time to process each one before the next one takes its place. But one question manages to stand out above the rest, and she stares at the floor intently.

"But... but I've been going through stuff for years and I haven't had any problems like what's been happening recently until I got here." Her eyes shift up to his featureless, navy-blue mask curiously. "If it wanted me, why didn't it start before?"

"It's difficult to stalk someone and drive them insane when they're in the middle of a city," he says after a moment. "He probably knew about you before, at least to a point, but he couldn't really get to you until you were closer to where he resides." She gulps, eyes glistening with unfallen tears of dismay. "He wanted you more isolated. He can affect you easier that way."

"He's only after me, right?" Worry blooms in her chest and she leans forward absentmindedly. "My... my grandparents aren't a target, too? It's just me?"

"I doubt he'd have anything to do with two people like that, unless..." He pauses, and she presses her lips together in an anxious line.

"Unless?" Her voice holds a sense of distress. "Unless what?"

"Unless..." She can tell he's hesitant to finish his thought, though if it concerns the well-being of Nana and Pops, she won't stand for any unanswered questions. "...well, unless he wanted to use them. To manipulate you."

"How would he do that?" Now fully invested in the conversation, she tries to stabilize her breathing as she stares impatiently at Jack, desperate to get a response.

"He has different tactics. It'd be hard to say which one he'd use on you." Releasing a tremulous breath and trying to ease the nervous pit in her stomach, she clenches her fists.

"Would he hurt them?" For now, she's going to assume both of them are still alive and well, though utterly frantic over her sudden disappearance. Jack hasn't given any proof that he didn't harm them in any way, but she'd rather think about the possibility of life over the possibility of death.

"I don't know. He might."

"Well, then I have to get back to them!" She shoots up from her sitting position, causing a wave of dizziness to wash over her and nearly make her stumble to the floor, but she manages to keep her balance before that can happen. "So let me go."

"Y\n, being irrational isn't going to get you anywhere."

"I'm not being irrational!" She shoots a glare at where he still sits on the couch, starting to limp her way to the front door. "I'm being a good granddaughter. I'm not letting them get hurt." He sighs, a sound that's really beginning to get on her nerves, and slowly stands. She backs away warily in response.

"Your grandparents are fine. He likely won't even do anything that involves them because they're so far away from you now." Just how far away from them is she really?

"Where did you bring me then??"

"I can't tell you. Not yet." He eases closer to her, and she eyes the door. She isn't getting anywhere with her ankle being the way it is, and she knows it. But it's worth another try, right? She darts across the rest of the living room, but before she can even get close to grabbing the knob, a pair of strong arms wrap around her torso and pull her back. Despite her attempts at freedom, his hold doesn't even loosen.

"Let me go, Jack!"

"You already know that isn't going to happen." She lets out an exasperated groan, trying not to put pressure on her injury as she struggles fruitlessly against the tall male currently holding her back and succeeding, much to her displeasure. "You need to calm down."

"How am I supposed to 'calm down'? The only two people who actually give a crap about me are in danger!" She growls, attempting to kick him in the leg or elbow him in the gut, though he skillfully dodges each time and locks onto her tighter, remaining unphased by her actions.

"And you'll be putting them in even more danger if you go back. You heard what I said. Do you really want to hurt your own family?"

"Just shut up! I'd never do something like that. Not if my life depended on it."

"Well, it would. Y\n, you don't understand." He effortlessly spins her around to face him, her neck having to bend upward due to the large height difference between the two of them. She watches the tar-like substance as it leisurely drips from his empty sockets and down his mask before having to glance away. "Once you get to that point, he controls you. He owns you. He can make you do whatever he deems necessary to please him, and you can't stop it." She huffs, biting her bottom lip and holding back distressed tears. "Do you really want that to happen to you?"

She brings both her hands up and pushes harshly against his chest to create some kind of space between them before crossing her arms and sending him a glare, gathering the nerve to look directly into the vacant pits in his head. "I don't want any of this to happen to me," she mumbles, taking deep breaths just to stop herself from crying. "I just want to go home and be with people I love." The words leave her lips as a harsh whisper, voice cracking in the process.

"That can't happen." His tone changes from mildly irritated to sympathetic in an instant, and he takes a small step back in an effort to make her feel more comfortable. "I'm sorry."

She uses the back of her arm to wipe away a stray tear that had begun rolling down her cheek as her gaze lingers toward the hallway. She doesn't want to be anywhere near Jack, or anybody besides her grandparents. She wants out of this mess. At least she knows it isn't her fault, not completely anyway. Not that the thought soothes her very much, but it's something. "...Where's the bathroom?" It comes out as a half-hearted demand, and he answers immediately.

"First door to the right." She nods in silent gratitude and starts walking that way, ignoring the bit of pain that erupts through the bottom half of her leg as she does so. Once inside the desired room, she shuts the door behind her, flicks on the light, and tries to calm her fast, unsteady breathing and erratic heart rate. What is she supposed to do? Take Jack's word for it and stay here? Escape and try to find the way to a police station? Neither option sounds too appealing at the moment. She doesn't forget the words Jeff used before he ever so kindly walked her back to her kidnapper's house.

"Cops don't scare me. I've dealt with way, way worse than guns and tasers."

It sounded like a threat, and given the brief, though memorable, interaction with Jeff she had, it's very probable that's exactly what it was. A threat. Like he was telling her if she managed to break free and get the police involved, he'd hunt her down and wipe out everyone within his path. And it wouldn't bother him a bit. Of course it wouldn't, if he's crazy enough to supposedly carve a smile into his face, then he's crazy enough not to care in the least as he straight-up murders people.

How could somebody be so... twisted? Is it the doing of that thing, the one Jack informed her about? Or is it something totally different? Well, if she's going to be here a while, as she assumes she will be whether she likes it or not, then she'll be sure to gather as many details about the ones that live around here as she can. Maybe she can ask that girl that's supposed to be coming by with shoes, according to Jack. What's her name? Wendy? Whitney? Wanda?

No, dummy, it was a flower. She's named after a flower... Petunia? Lily? She shakes her head in disregard. That isn't even close. The bathroom is small, with a sink counter to her right, a toilet to the side of that, a tub to her left, and a slender cabinet ahead of her, right beside a window. The thought only crosses her mind briefly to use the window to escape; not only is it too high for her to properly reach without some kind of boost, but it's too small for her to even begin trying to squeeze through.

Nausea bubbles in her stomach as she thinks more and more about her hopeless situation. How does she handle this? Her whole existence just got flipped upside-down in the matter of a few hours. She doesn't know where she is, the people around her seem completely off their rocker, and her grandparents are at risk of being hurt, or possibly even killed by some other-worldly creature that she's seen a grand total of once, and that sighting was vague. What about that one time she saw that figure in the woods? The one with the white mask? Was that a hallucination, or was it real too?

She has no way of knowing for sure, and that thought alone makes her want to collapse and cry until she can't anymore about her misfortune. But she won't, not right now. Instead, she throws herself at the sink, desperate to rid herself of the foul taste filling her mouth and swallowing the vomit creeping up her throat. She turns on the faucet and welcomes the cool water that spills out, pressing her lips against it and gulping it down. She savors the pristine liquid as it slips down her throat, bringing an end to the dryness she felt in it prior and relieving her of the discomfort.

Letting out a strangled cough, she turns the faucet off and looks up, only now noticing the large piece of cloth—presumably an old sheet or blanket—covering the area where a mirror usually is placed. She lifts the corner of it up, only to find that there is, indeed, a mirror underneath, but finding herself a bit perplexed. Why would there be a sheet blocking the mirror? Did Jack do it? Does he not like to look at himself?

How would he see himself if he doesn't have eyes? She knits her eyebrows together, sniffling and licking some residual water away from her lips to stop it from dribbling down her chin. But he seems to move around just fine as if he can see where he's going. She's already established that he isn't normal, but just how not-normal is he? How does one see without eyes? Does he have some kind of sixth sense that allows him to somehow know his surroundings? If the whole 'no eyes' thing is only part of his mask, it's definitely fooled her. It looks so... so real. Just like every other aspect of him.

If he's like that, and Jeff is like that, then what do the other ones look like? She knows that there have to be others, Jack made that blatantly obvious by mentioning someone named Brian and the other named...Daisy? No, that's not it either. How much freakier is it going to get for her? Just how many more psychos has she yet to come across? She isn't too eager to find out. Jack's bad enough, and though he hasn't given her any more reason to hate him, the fact still stands that he took her from her house. Not only that, but he drugged her to do so, and before that, tricked her. Lied, right to her face, all to make her think he was trustworthy. Which he clearly is not.

She isn't sure whether to feel mad, betrayed, or a mixture of both. No, the two weren't friends, but they had talked for quite a while and she had told him things about herself that she certainly wouldn't tell some grey-skinned, eyeless thing. Is he even human? He doesn't look like one. She thought that there was a sort of bond that had sparked between the two of them during their encounter, though now she knows it was just a big, dirty trick.

She sighs through her nose, rubbing her eyes and leaning against the counter. Should she have just stayed home? Sure, she didn't really have a choice but to go to her grandparents' house while her mom and dad went wherever their work lead them, but she knows for a fact that her father in particular would have much preferred to keep her away from them. For some reason though, he had still hauled her off to a place she hasn't visited since she was eleven years old. It may have had something to do with Y\n refusing, under any circumstances, to stay at the penthouse with their absolute snob of a nanny, all alone, for God-knows how many weeks on end.

And seeing as how her mother's parents weren't an option, it was either her father's or summer camp. The last time she was at summer camp, she didn't have a very good experience, and pair that with all of the people in a hurry to make fun of her just because they're jealous of her parents' money, yeah, her grandparents were the better option by a long shot. But... if she would have just stayed home, would this have happened? Would Nana and Pops still be safe? Would she still be leading a generally boring, miserable life? Jack said himself that the creature chasing after her wouldn't be able to reach her in a populated area, like a city, and that's why he only now started attacking her. Because she was easy bait.

Is this actually her fault? Could she have avoided all of this had she just stopped being stubborn and stayed put in her home? What if Nana and Pops get killed if they aren't already? All because of her want to reach out to and see family that actually still care about her? Throwing around blame isn't going to help anything. Though that's what she tells herself, she can't help but think about it and feel guilty.

If I'm dreaming, now would be a good time to wake up. It all feels a bit too realistic to be a dream at this point, but she still clings to that little sliver of hope that this whole charade has been something her mind created while she's unconscious, and that soon she'll awake, perfectly healthy in her bed, with no giant noodle man to worry about, or crazy weirdos with masks, or strange dreams, unexplained dizzy spells and coughing fits. No whacky symbols. That would be incredible, even though she knows that really, she's never that lucky. It's all actually happening, and there's no way to escape it.

She doesn't even try to stop the tears that softly slip down her cheeks and make tiny little drip noises when they land in the porcelain bowl beneath her, only huffing in agitation and dipping her head to collect her bearings. And I thought I had a screwed-up life before...

After a few minutes, she's able to compose herself and gather enough courage to step back outside into the hallway, glancing toward the living room and catching sight of Jack on the couch, book in hand, and head craned down as if reading the words on the pages. Now how does that work? She steps forward, and at the sound of another presence nearing, he tilts his head up and meets her eyes with his soulless black pits.

She pauses under his gaze, nerves jumping with unease at his attention before she continues walking, stopping to idly lean against the wall farthest from him. "You okay?" His voice makes her flinch slightly, having not expected him to speak and break the tense silence that had built between them, though she's able to blow it off and act as if nothing happened.

"No," she says, tone harsh as she crosses her arms and drops her gaze down to the floor. "Why would I be 'okay'? This isn't exactly an everyday occurrence."

"I know, I know." He folds his book over and rests it in his lap, slanting forward slightly. "I'm not expecting you to be alright with this. Not for a while, at least." She narrows her eyes at him and presses her lips together. "I just need you to understand that this is your best option. It ensures both your safety and your family's safety."

"You just told me that my family could be used to manipulate me." Her tone is taut and her eyebrows furrow together, peering at him through resentful e\c orbs. "That doesn't sound very 'safe' to me."

"Yes, and then I said he probably won't feel the need to use them at all because you're so far away from where they live." He straightens his posture and tilts his head. "Trust me, going back would be more dangerous."

"And what if he does decide to 'use' them, huh? What then?" It takes a few infuriating moments for him to respond, and she shuffles around on her feet a bit to give him a well-aimed glare. He either doesn't notice or chooses to ignore it.

"We'll have to cross that bridge if we come to it." She opens her mouth to complain, to say something along the lines of, 'no freaking way am I standing aside and letting my grandparents become targets for some freak of nature,' but before she can there are three firm raps on the door, coming from the outside. It startles her, and she cautiously averts her gaze to the source of the sudden noise.

Jack moves the curtain to the side and glances out through the window placed directly behind the couch, seemingly checking for who could possibly be at the door. "Relax, it's alright." He stands to his feet and heads toward the wooden portal. She sends him a questioning look, and he motions outside. "Wisteria's here."

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #female reader #Y\n L\n #Eyeless Jack #Jack Nichols #Eyeless Jack x reader #creepypasta x female reader

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ngame989 · 5 years

Text

“Friends” - TGG SVTFOE Fanfic Collection Ch. 12

Writing: @ngame989

Art: @toxicpsychox

Editing: @ubercelloczar, @seddm

Alternate fic links - FFnet, AO3

Summary: Ludo needs help making friends and turns to Star and Marco for help, but things quickly spiral out of their control.

Comic Page

Masterpost

It's been an incredibly trying month for me and I'm unsure about a lot of things in my personal life now, but this isn't one of them. I'm so happy to finally be getting back to my feet so I can make more of the Starco content I want the world to see. Hope you enjoy, and thanks for your patience. (Also, fair warning, there’s one ever so slightly steamy Starco scene here)

“Have you ever wondered why heart thingies are hearts?” Marco stopped chewing on a bite of his burrito as he turned his full attention to Star. It wasn’t the most confusing thing she’d ever said, but it was up there. “Like, why does this symbol mean hearts and love and stuff?” she clarified, holding up a piece of heart-shaped candy from the post-Valentine’s Day shopping spree Eclipsa had taken her on weeks ago.

“Dunno,” he responded. “Maybe it’s what people used to think hearts looked like or something.”

“None of the hearts I’ve seen on hunting trips with Dad ever looked like this. Although one was made of chocolate.” She shrugged and popped the treat into her mouth, dumping some more from the bag into her mouth soon after. Her cheeks were puffed out, stretching her heart marks wide and Marco couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. “What?” she mumbled, still chewing. He pantomimed the sight in front of him, pointing to his own puffed-up cheeks. Star quickly grabbed two more candies, licking the backs of them before sticking them to Marco’s face, smiling quite smugly at her handiwork. “Now we’re heart twinsies!” She scooted around the table next to him and leaned in, snapping a selfie. “The kids will love this one.”

He swallowed the last bite of his burrito, thanking the heavens for the new Taco Baco location on campus. The other food options there were… lacking, to say the least.

“The Valentine’s Day Chocopalooza was a smash hit, but I have no clue how to follow it! I can’t have peaked after half a year, Marco!” The memories came flooding back: brownie batter as far as the eye could see, melted chocolate inflicting its goopy wrath on every surface in the kitchen, and so much frosting that he still didn’t want to even look at the stuff.

“I think they just like spending time with you. You’re really good with kids, Star. Besides, the only other holiday coming up is Easter, and you’re terrified of it.”

“It has a giant rabbit that lays eggs, Marco! How do you not see how horrifying that is?”

A loud cough from the bushes behind them might normally have only caught Marco’s attention for a passing moment, but another voice frantically shushed it. “Dennis, quiet! The giant bunny schtick is too good!”

“Ludo?” Star and Marco said in unison.

“Hello, Star and Marco!” Ludo exclaimed with an emphatic wave. “So wonderful to see you again! How’s your kid?”

“She’s not… she’s fine,” Marco relented, estimating that it wouldn’t be worth the hassle. “So… how’s it going?”

“Things are fine, family’s good. Bird and Spider told me to say hello.” He seemed even twitchier than Marco remembered. Dennis prodded his brother with a wing, clearly trying to be surreptitious about it and failing spectacularly. “Ahem, well, there is one teensy tiny issue… I ran into Bearnicorn a few days ago. I totally froze up! Things were pretty awkward last time I saw the whole gang and I think I’m finally ready to try again, but I have no idea how to do that. You might not know this, but I have some issues getting over things,” he stated earnestly. Star and Marco exchanged a bewildered glance - he couldn’t be serious, right? Wait, what were they thinking, Ludo could totally say something like that seriously. Ludo took a deep breath and continued, “But Dennis suggested that I come to you two for help, since I had actually managed to work everything out with you.”

Star munched on another chocolate heart as she mulled over what he was saying. “So you want our help to… make friends?”

The edges of his beak-mouth turned up in an ecstatic smile. “I would like that very much!”

***

“You’re sure about this, Star?”

“He’s not hurting anything, Mom.” Star didn’t glance up from the piles of clothing she was rummaging through at the sound of her mom’s wary question; it wasn’t an unfair one, considering the history involved. Even though he was friendly now, Ludo was too much of a wildcard to completely discount as harmless. Still, though, Star saw no reason to suspect any tricks up his sleeve (though there were probably some bugs there). The nostalgia of reconnecting with Ludo was oddly calming for Star, and considering how quickly Marco agreed to help Ludo with his issues, despite the craziness of midterms approaching, she guessed he felt the same. Drawer after drawer bore no fruit in her quest to find the sweater for Marco’s all-important psychology ensemble - the book and glasses had already been secured.

“Though I didn’t say anything, I admit I was initially hesitant about you two sharing living quarters like this, but I must say Marco’s organizational skills seemed to have rubbed off on you,” Moon said with a snicker. She bent down and checked under the bed, pulling out stray bags of cereal and bottles of soda that Star recognized from her and Marco’s late night movie marathons slash cuddle sessions. “...somewhat.”

Think Star, think! When was the last time you saw that dang sweater? Let’s see… he wore it on our Valentine’s Day date so it can’t be that hidden - it was a bit snug on him which made it extra adorably handsome. He’d said he’d wear it more if I wanted, and I fell over laughing when he wore it just last weekend before we… oh corn. Star now recalled where the sweater would almost certainly be as a wave of horror washed over her. She slammed the dresser drawer and whipped around for a mad dash to the nightstand, where- pegasus feathers. Moon had just found the sweater, which was great, and with it was the exact last box she wanted anyone else (and especially her mom) to find, which was... greeeeeeat. Star generally felt she had a solid, trusting bond with her mother, but she’d never been - and still wasn’t - the first person Star blabbed to about her personal affairs.

“Mom, I can explain-”

“Star, sweetie, I’m not upset. What you do with Marco is none of my business, you’re a grown young woman who is more than capable of making her own decisions. If anything I’m simply relieved that you’re taking such sane precautions. I may be old, but I’m not ready to earn my place in the Grandma Room quite yet.” Despite her embarrassment, Star had to admit she was eased by her mom’s understanding,. “And don’t worry,” Moon said softly, “I’ll handle the subject with your father for you, if you’d like.” And just like that, any comfort was washed away by a tidal wave of beet-red cheeks and incoherent sputtering.

Marco poked his head in, causing Star to yelp and jump off the bed. “Hey, you almost ready?”

“Yep! Totally, totally, totally ready and not discussing anything about our personal lives with mom!”

“Uh-huh…” Marco responded. “Well, I’m ready down there if you are. Oh hey, there’s my sweater. Good, we’ll need it... I, uh think we have our work cut out for us.”

Star was worried, but also kinda happy to have an excuse to leave the current conversation as soon as Mewmanly possible. She handed the sweater from her mom to Marco, who put it on as they walked downstairs to where Ludo was curiously poking around the living room.

“Oh, hello Star! I was just admiring your lovely castle. Bit small for my tastes, but what do I know, haha!”

“Yeeeeeeah…” She then leaned over to whisper to Marco. “So, like, what did he say so far?”

“He said that he tried practicing talking to people with garbage dolls.”

“Weird.”

“I don’t even know where to start, really.”

“Hey Ludo,” Star called out, walking over and sitting on the couch next to him. “So, bud, whatcha need us for here, exactly?”

“Ah, yes, well… I’d like to be able to talk to my old friends again without being their boss. You know, the whole scheming to defeat you… steal the wand… take over Mewni and rule it with an IRON FIST-” He had gotten so worked up that he was on his feet jumping up and down on the couch, but stopped and took a deep breath before chuckling. “Aha, see, there it is again! It’s usually not like this, it’s been months since I’ve even once brought up the wand in a game of cha-rads…”

Yeah, this might be a liiiiiiittle tricky. She tented her fingers as she came up with a plan. Could I… nah. Would it…? Mmm, no go. Wait, Star, duh! “ Alright, Ludo, it’s time for some patented psychomological work from Star Butterfly, H.P.D. We need to see what’s going on in your head.”

“Ooo, sounds fun! So for starters I think there’s some lice-”

“No, no,” she responded calmly, “I mean we need to find what’s making you tick.”

“Yup, I’ve got ticks too!”

Marco put a hand on her shoulder, his worried expression clear even to her peripheral vision. “Are you sure he should be in the same house as Mari-”

“Not now, Marco,” Star hissed, swatting his hand away while keeping her gaze trained on Ludo. “Why are you having trouble talking to your old friends again? What’s the first thing that comes to mind when I say ‘Boo Fly’?”

“Messenger.”

“Buff Frog?”

“Excellent spy.”

“Lobster Claws?”

“Putting his claws on the wand- oh, wait, I see now! This is like cha-rads but with just words! You almost got me!”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re getting it! OK, one more… Toffee.”

“Candy! It’s so delectable with chocolate-”

“You know what, that one’s probably for the best,” Star murmured. “Well, Ludo, it seems to me like your biggest problem is that you aren’t even thinking about your old crew as regular people. Try this. Think of doing something you’d normally do with your brother.”

“Picking the worms out of our feathers to eat-”

“Yeah, no,” Star cut him off. She wanted to help, she really did, but she had a million other things on her mind and now was just not a great time for endless Ludo shenanigans. “I was thinking something less gross…”

“Basketball?” he cheerily offered.

“Sure. Imagine yourself playing basketball with your brother…” She paused a moment as he started miming out dribbling in his seat. “Now imagine doing the same exact thing but with Bearnicorn there instead of your brother.” His arms twitched a bit.

“Keep dribbling, man!” Marco called out encouragingly. Ludo shut his eyes in concentration and after a moment got back into his awkward, gawkish basketball form.

Ludo’s bulbous eyes snapped back open, frantic with glee. “Aha, yes! I think I see it now! Oh, thank you, Star and Marco! I’m off to go find my friends again!” With that, he bolted out the front door and scurried down the road until he was out of sight.

“You think that’ll work?” Star asked hopefully.

Marco sighed and hugged her from behind. “Not a chance.”

***

“Alright, we have a few minutes left in class so if anyone has any questions on the graded midterms I just passed back, let me know. Otherwise you’re free to leave. Have a good weekend!”

Marco hunched over in his chair as he quickly scanned through the multiple choice questions and short answers. A few stupid mistakes here and there, but still an A - he’d even gotten a smiley face next to his essay assessing some example personality type or another. All in all, things felt right. Karate, sword-fighting, and adventuring were important to him but he’d always felt the most fulfilled helping others with their problems - psychology just seemed right.

A high-pitched, squawking voice interrupted him. “Hey, dude, what did you get for number 12?” Marco looked up at another student - Matt, if he was remembering correctly - who was hovering over him at an uncomfortably close distance. Even with how much life had changed in the past few years, his academic reputation stayed the same.

“Uh, C,” Marco responded absentmindedly.

“Oh, that makes sense. And what about 13?”

“B.”

“And… 14 through 35.”

“Just talk to Mrs. B, man,” Marco irritatedly replied, shaking his head. Normally he enjoyed helping classmates if he could, but he had promised Star he’d helm the planning for the daycare’s Easter party on account of her phobia - well, that, and he’d heard Matt bragging about how he’d blown off studying to play the new Super Slash Sisters game all night long. He looked back down to check over one last page and grinned to himself. The final essay prompt hadn’t been for a grade, but instead asked a simpler question: Why are you here? Without context, it might have seemed odd or downright rude, but the teacher had spent the first few months of the semester encouraging all the students to reflect on their goals and what they hoped to gain from the psychology program. The blunt prompt had caught him off guard, but after realizing what it was asking, he’d spent probably about as much time as he had on the rest of the exam combined describing his experiences and motivations on Mewni that drove him to help and support others.

Of course, he couldn’t help but talk about Star at length as part of that. His adorable, brave, compassionate best friend that inspired him to be more. Where would he even be now without her? He could still be at college, he supposed, but that wasn’t saying much. It was humorous to imagine: waking up, being driven to college by his mom, waving hello to Jackie every day (his foolproof plan to woo her had involved eventually moving past nodding, after all), getting straight As, working fruitlessly towards a red belt after classes, then… what? The world had so much more to offer him, and vice versa, and Star was the one who’d helped him realize that. The words had just flowed right out of his pen, paragraphs and paragraphs of glowing praise and affection, enough to leave his chest feeling as warm as it did when she was physically there.

“Hey, Marco, I have a question-”

Stirred from his contemplative state, Marco wheeled on the figure that had just tapped him on the shoulder, ready to tell Matt off for interrup- oh.

“Ludo? What are you doing here?”

“Oh, well, I was in the neighborhood and I thought I’d just drop in! But also, please help me. I did what you said but then I dribbled Boo Fly on the ground and he got really upset and-”

Marco sighed. Hope Star’s fine with me being late.

***

Most days, Star loved everything about her job. It was hard work, but it was so satisfying bringing smiles and warmth to the faces of the kids in her care and seeing them light up with stories to tell their families at the end of each day. Her hours were flexible, she got to spend time with Marco, and Antonio was a wonderful boss.

Today, however, was not most days.

Of freaking course Easter was Antonio’s favorite holiday.

The kids seemed to be enjoying his antics as he pranced around in a bunny costume, but for the life of her she just couldn’t understand why. Is it a normal rabbit or a person-sized one? No one even seems to know what it is! Does it lay bird eggs or rabbit eggs? Both are pretty horrifying if you ask me! If you get chocolate eggs in your Easter basket, does it lay them too? I’m not eating any soft brown rabbit droppings, Marco! They didn’t even get any days off for it, so Star was convinced the best thing to do was ignore its existence as a holiday entirely. Her incredibly valid concerns had largely been met with amusement, even by Marco, but Antonio had at least offered to let her keep her distance and work behind-the-scenes for the party they had planned, which was now going on in the main playroom.

Packing baskets with candy was easy enough. Chocolate, gummies, cookies, donuts. Candy corn for the humans and candied corn for the Mewmans - as much as the humans liked Mewman corn, they hadn’t quite accepted it as a valid dessert yet. There were a few special ones marked down as well. Some marshmallow mice for the Septarians, a ribeye steak for the Johansen - her third cousin or something like that, she wasn’t even sure exactly whose kid he was - and some dried bugs for the kappas… wait, since when were there any kappas at the daycare? She yanked the full list out from underneath the pile of sweets and quickly scanned it. 105? Aren’t there only 104 kids in the program this semester?

She almost missed it at the very top of the list: “Manudo Avarius”. She vaguely remembered hearing about a sibling with that name at some point… maybe they just joined? Something still seemed off to Star but she pushed it aside and finished the last of the baskets just in time for the end of the party. As the kids left, Star cheerfully handed out the baskets to the tune of joyous squeals from the kids and careful warnings from the parents to not eat too much at once. Pffftt, come on, I eat cake for breakfast and I turned out fine!

Curiously, she hadn’t spotted anyone that resembled Ludo yet even as the remaining crowd dwindled to almost nothing. Antonio had already begun to put away decorations when she finally spotted the figure, taking the basket over to them. But when they turned around, showing a braided beard… oh pegasus feathers.

“Star Butterfly! So good to see you again.”

“Hey Ludo,” she said. “Are you picking up Manudo?”

“Why would Menudo be here?”

“Well the paper said Manudo-”

“No, no, that’s not how it’s spelled, but besides, I’m here by myself. A large man with a magnificent beard asked me for my name and told me I was missing a party with lots of sweets! He kept calling me a child and I said I was a man and that my name was Ludo, but who cares when there’s free chips, am I right?” He reached into one of the five chip bags in his arms and stuffed a handful into his beak.

Man-udo. Dangit, Antonio. “So… good to see you, but what brings you here?”

“Well, I talked to Marco just the other day because it still just wasn’t working, but then I tried something else and that still didn’t work, so now I need your help again. It all started on Tuesday-”

Star slumped down into a beanbag chair and reached into the basket, deftly avoiding the bugs as she searched for cookies to nibble on. This is going to be a while.

***

“So what did you say this place was?” Tom asked as he glanced around the restaurant. The vibrant cherry-red booths and soulful singer crooning over the speakers created a very different atmosphere than anything in the Underworld, but he liked it.

Sitting across from him, Marco downed another fry and took a sip of his water before responding. “Diners are the best places to go for comfort food. Burgers, onion rings, waffles, all that kinda stuff. Emilio’s is the best in town.”

Next to Marco, Star was wolfing down onion rings by the handful. “The secret is that he hired a bunch of Eclipsa’s old chefs, so they make great Mewman and monster food too. Don’t tell Mom but their Mewnipendence Day pies are the best I’ve ever had - though they don’t call it that anymore.” She was still chewing when she spoke, but after so many years of knowing Star he had no trouble understanding her garbled words. “It’s really cool that Emilio was able to get back on his feet after the incident.”

“What incident?” Tom asked, eliciting an irritated groan from Marco.

“So basically, a few years ago, Ponyhead and I-”

“Oh boy, a Ponyhead story,” Janna sarcastically said, rolling her eyes, and Tom elbowed her side.

An older man with olive skin approached the table. ““Does everything taste alright? If your dining experience isn’t absolutely perfect, please let me know, I can get you anything. More to drink, dessert, maybe some mushrooms...”

“It’s great, Emilio,” Marco mumbled.

“Good, good…” Emilio was smiling a bit too hard as he backed away, his eyes lingering on Marco’s meal.

Marco caught Tom’s curious gaze and buried his head in his hands. “Look, it’s a long story. There was this pizza, then spiraling alcoholism, then a bit of arson…”

Janna’s hand, resting on Tom’s leg, unconsciously twitched as she perked up. “Woah, OK, now I actually do want to hear this.”

“Too late, no take backs.”

“Aww, you’re no fun.”

“So anyway, we picked the restaurant this time so have you two decided what we’re doing after?” Oh crud, we forgot to plan. Tom’s initial instinct was to claim a beginner’s mistake, since it was only the second of their monthly double dates and their first time planning the after-dinner entertainment… except the actual reason was that he and Janna happened to get into their first major makeout session the night they had set aside for planning, burning thoughts of accomplishing anything else to a crisp in the process. Star and Marco were the last people that would be squicked out by romantic affection- that wasn’t the problem. After years of slacking on responsibilities and having any kind of social life at all in a misguided attempt to chase after Star, he couldn’t help but feel extra guilty over this specific lapse.

Janna leaned in, whispering in his ear. “Can’t we just hit up the Sands of Eternal Torment?”

“For the tenth time, Jan, no,” he hissed through his teeth. “There’s, like, a 25% chance you’d all have your souls violently ripped from your bodies.”

“Only 25? Ew, nevermind, just let them pick.” She leaned in even closer, her breath hot in his ear. “If it’s somewhere boring, we could always just sneak away and-”

“Good evening!” Tom squeaked and quickly turned his head at the sudden boisterous call from his other side, almost smacking Janna in the temple with his horn in the process. It was an incredibly short bird creature with a thick grey beard - a kappa, if Tom was remembering correctly. It wasn’t their same waiter from before, but hey, what did he know about how Earth restaurants worked?

Tom held out his glass, but the supposed waiter ignored it. “Yeah, can I have a refill on the demonade, please?” Star and Marco glanced over at the waiter, their eyes opening wide before they both groaned and smacked their faces on the table in unison. Alright, maybe he’s not a waiter then.

***

“Star...” Marco uttered. Star removed her wandering lips from his neck and propped herself up to look lovingly at him, shivering slightly as she abandoned the warmth of his bare skin. It had been probably over a year now since they’d first become more intimate like this, but the fire still burned just as hot. Heck, it was better now than those first forays, Star reckoned; with time came confidence and experience that let them enjoy themselves and each other to the absolute fullest. They’d both had busy lives the last few months or so, and with the end of the semester fast approaching Star knew they would be even busier soon, but none of that seemed to matter in this time they’d taken for themselves. Even after a break for a shower and snacks, their present cozy state under the blanket with nothing between them still felt as radiant as any proper afterglow could.

“Mhmm?” A devious thought crossed her mind, but she tried her best to feign innocence as she slowly slithered down his body, leaving fiery trails of kisses down his chest and sweet, sweet abs.

“Not that I don’t like, you know, doing this but I don’t, uh, know if I have it in me for another rouuuuuuuu-” His voice shot up an octave and his whole body jolted as she blew raspberries on his belly button and snuck her arms up to tickle around his armpits. “Star, please- I can’t- I’m- can’t breathe-” he sputtered out between hysterical bouts of laughter.

She was laughing too by the time his flailing pushed her off of him. Before he’d even collected himself, he lunged forward, trying to catch her with a determined-but-still-goofy grin on his face. Star dodged and backed away from the bed entirely as Marco grasped at her limbs. He finally gave up, lying on his stomach while resting his head on his chin and staring up at her. Even though his tush was right there for the ogling, Star was instead captivated by his enamored gaze and dopey smile.

“Dangit, Marco, you know I can’t resist that look,” she huffed, allowing him to take her hands and pull her next to him on the bed.

“I know,” he said smugly. “You’re not the only one who can weaponize being all lovey dovey.”

“The student has become the master,” she quipped, their hands still joined between them as they lay on their sides.

“But I do mean it, Star. I love every single part of you, and that’s not gonna change. Things have been hectic lately for both of us, but stuff with the daycare, what you want to do for a living, Ludo… we can figure that all out. Just reach into your pocket if you need me.”

She gently patted his head, running her fingers through his freshly shampooed hair. It was alluring to smell, to hold, to feel brushing up against her. Though the problems they faced now were of a different kind than the forces of evil that they’d spent their earlier years tackling, his presence was still what she needed most to ground her and make everything feel alright. Her face dipped in for a kiss, initially short and sweet but quickly succumbing to a familiar hunger. She pounced on him but miscalculated her momentum, rolling the whole way over him and pulling him with her so he lay on top. Not complaining, she thought as she hugged him close and indulged in the sensory bliss of his skin on hers.

He lightly rested his forehead on hers. “Do you, um, mind if we maybe don’t, y’know…” he trailed off sheepishly.

“Marco,” she crooned, holding his face in her hands. “How many times do I have to say it: I don’t want to do anything if you’re not comfortable with it.”

“I-I can try that, um, thing again, though, instead if- if you want?” Oh sweet, sweet Marco. Even after years together, he still couldn’t rest until he was sure he’d done everything he could for her.

“Yeah,” she implored, breathy with the mounting anticipation as he began a trail of kisses downward.

“What thing are you two talking about?” Time seemed to stop as any building pleasure completely evaporated. Marco grabbed the crumpled bedsheet and pulled it over the two of them as the couple stared at the window in complete incredulity to where Ludo was standing on a flapping Dennis’s back. “Well, anyway, I need some more advice-”

“GET. OUT!”

***

Marco rested his chin in his hands while Star paced in front of him. Three months. Three months of Ludo showing up at the most inopportune times, three months of Star trying and failing to feel satisfied with her efforts at the daycare, three months of a semester so intense that they were both at their wit’s end with all of it. Ludo had once again come to the college for advice after his 26th attempt to regain his old friends failed just as catastrophically as the previous 25. He was persistent, Marco had to give him that, and the old monster crew had even been pretty supportive when Star and Marco had tracked them down themselves and explained the situation. The issue seemed to be entirely from within Ludo’s own mind, which made it a dozen times harder to solve. It was the last day of the semester and they’d been haunted by thoughts of every minute of summer vacation spent throwing themselves at the brick wall of Ludo’s psyche, so they’d made a pact that today was all or nothing. Neither wanted to ditch Ludo, he wasn’t a bad guy, but enough was enough.

“Any ideas?” Star piped up, sounding entirely lost and uncertain as her gaze kept nervously darting over to Ludo who was brushing his beard and snacking on its droppings in the empty playroom. “We’ve tried psychology, reverse psychology, pep talks, reverse reverse psychology, all-you-can-eat chips, ygolohscysp-”

“Which still isn’t a thing,” Marco interrupted.

“Well I’m sorry, I’m not the one with a fancy degree, Marco!” she growled, tossing her arms out. “Ugh, sorry, this is just so frustrating. Doesn’t he have, like, a thousand brothers and sisters he could hang out with? If he can’t relax around the monsters, why does he always have to pester us when he could-” Her pacing instantly halted as her eyes opened wide. “Oh crud.”

He stood up and placed a hand on her shoulder reassuringly, unsure whether her apparent epiphany was a good or bad thing. “Star?”

“He came to us for help becoming comfortable around his old pals again because he already was comfortable around us.”

“Way too comfortable,” Marco muttered with a wince that Star mirrored. They were still a little bit traumatized from the shower incident. “But that means-”

“He never needed his monster pals, he just needed… friends,” she said just as he had the revelation on his own.

Marco smacked his forehead and sighed. “And he spent so much time fixating on this one thing, and we spent so much time just trying to solve his problem and shove him out the door, that we never tried just… being his friends.”

They both looked through the little window into the playroom, where Ludo saw them and waved with a giant smile.

Star buried her face in her hands, messing up her hair like she was prone to do whenever she was feeling frazzled. “Ugh, I feel terrible.”

“Same, but… we can’t be his only friends, though. I feel bad for him, but I don’t know if I have it in me to be his BFF.”

“You’re right, you’re right, but who else could even handle that? Who? The guy’s so hyper and weird, ugh, he reminds me of me as a kid, except way less cute.”

“...a kid.” They both mumbled simultaneously. It was as if a single lightbulb had gone off above both of them at once as all the pieces fell into place. “That’s it!”

Star bolted out the door to gather the handful of children that hadn’t been picked up yet while Marco got Ludo. A few minutes later, they met up at the rec center basketball court where Antonio helped them set up some kid-sized hoops. It took a bit of coaxing, but after a few minutes Ludo was having the time of his life tossing the ball around. The kids seemed to enjoy it, too, as he regaled them with tales of his adventures on Earth (and a few about a space princess with a cyclops and robot for friends that Marco was pretty sure he made up). Star and Marco had joined for a few games but both decided to just step back and watch from the bleachers for a while.

As they observed the scene, listening to the ecstatic wails of everyone on the court as they ran around with the ball, there was a smile on Star’s face that was more content than Marco had seen in a while. “See? You made their whole week just by giving them someone fun to play with,” Marco said, lacing his fingers through her hand. “They like you a lot more than they like balloons and candy.”

“Even I don’t need candy with you here being so sweet,” she cooed, nuzzling into his shoulder, neither taking their eyes off the courts. Ludo passed the ball to Trevor, who spun around and passed it back in a fluid motion that allowed Ludo to score. The blissful, carefree sight was soothing after the intensity of Marco’s life lately. Just some kids and a small bird man having fun playing a game together… life didn’t always have to be so complicated. The serene moment abruptly ended when Ludo’s beak caught on the rim, leaving him dangling above the ground and shrieking for help. As Star squeezed Marco’s hand, sighed, and stood up to go help the poor kappa, Marco knew it could never be truly simple either.

#starco #svtfoe #star vs the forces of evil #tgg svtfoe #jantom

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if-found-return-to-gusu · 4 years

Text

Lan Xichen is the Actual Devil Pt. 3

Okay so Lan Xichen left and it’s just me and Lan Zhan. I like his brother, actually, but I’m not gonna lie I felt more relaxed after he left.

I would like to say that this time I did NOT fall asleep on Lan Zhan. It was difficult, but I persevered.

Anyway

I told him that I’d for sure take the guest room this time. And like laughed it off even though I’m still pretty mortified about last time.

And he told me the guest room was open to me whenever I wanted?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????//

Like is he saying I can come over whenever??? Or is he just saying if I’m here too late and I’m gonna pass out again please just do it in the damn bed?????

I mean like I’ve got an open pass to go to Jiang Cheng’s but that’s different.

So we decide to chill and pop in a movie. (I promised not to fall asleep on him this time.) And he sat next to me.

I mean like RIGHT NEXT to me. Our arms were TOUCHING even. like HOW IS A MAN SUPPOSED TO LIVE? (this is all Lan Xichen’s doing isn’t it??? He PLANNED THIS! But why though? Because he can see how much I like Lan Zhan? I mean is he pitying me? Or what???? )

And so I try to focus on the movie but all I can think about is Lan Zhan. How he feels. How he smells. How warm he is. I just wanted to curl up on his lap and stay there forever like a cat or something.

After a while we both decided to just turn off the movie. He thought it was kinda boring and I wasn’t paying attention anyway. So instead he asks me how I feel about the new job.

All casual.

Like this job wasn’t one of the best things to ever happen to me?? Like come on!!

So I decide to be a little shit and say something like “Well I’m not sure I should talk about this with my boss.” (OMg.... He IS my boss now isn’t he??? Is it okay for me to like my boss? Whelp too late. ((if I’m not careful this might turn into a fetish. haha. JK. Unless...?)))

But then, oh. oh . He rolled his eyes. I mean everyone rolls their eyes at me. Pretty default “Wei Ying” reaction tbh, but when Lan Zhan does it. IDK it was just so FUNNY! XD I couldn’t help but laugh.

And then I admitted that I was pretty nervous actually and that I really wanted to impress him. (I am SO FUCKING NERVOUS actually. I’m probably gonna fuck it all up but that’s a problem for future me. But I want to be the best I can for Lan Zhan. He inspires me to be better. Just by being so good himself. I want to be worthy of his time and his friendship. Does that make sense? Probably not)

Anyway, after that I accidentally started to just lean on him. Without even thinking about it. I put my head on his shoulder and just snuggled right on in. I mean it’s kinda like a hug and he said those were okay, right? But it was so natural I didn’t even notice until I was already snuggled up. Ah well he didn’t yeet me off the couch so I guess it was okay.

But I was thinking about how much better he’s made me as a person just by being close to me and spending time with me. He inspires me to be better. He’s just so wonderful. So I wanted to let him know how much that meant to me, but I couldn’t really find the right words? Like “Thank you” sounded so lame.

So I just said “I’m glad we’re friends.”

Am I fucking 5? “I’m glad we’re friends.” THAT is all I could think of to say?? I mean it’s TRUE, but glad we’re friends doesn’t even scratch the surface.

Ah well.

He told me he was glad we were friends too (somehow this made me both very happy and very sad... Idk it’s complicated).

But then.

oh fuck.

okay so he started to PET MY HAIR.

MY GREATEST WEAKNESS.

The only other person who’s ever stroked my hair was Shijie. And that was so long ago it seems. But honesty just.. it brought back so much for me that I almost wanted to cry. (I didn’t thank god).

But honestly, that feeling. It felt like being loved. Just truly and unconditionally loved.

And I know that’s not how he meant it but that’s how I felt.

And I think I snuggled in more and made some sort of noise but he didn’t stop. (Actually I think I ended up half on his lap after all. I can’t really remember.)

And it was so nice. And calm and relaxing and wonderful. And before I knew it I was already half asleep.

You know, like I’d promised I wouldn’t? ;ladsjfal

So I panicked and got up like RIGHT AWAY because I WASN’T gonna do that to him again. And I practically RAN to that guest room. I think I said good night. (I hope I did. OMG DID I SAY GOOD NIGHT???????)

And I practically slammed the door off its hinges out of just pure panic. (I think I was overreacting because I was half asleep and then like when you get that jump when your leg kicks it was like that but like ongoing).

I don’t think I slept at all after that. I kept replaying that time we spent on the couch and really really wishing Lan Zhan was still holding me. The guest room kinda smells like him the way his whole house does but it wasn’t enough. It was like a tease. Just enough to make me remember that he was just in the other room probably sleeping like a baby because he didn’t have a gremlin attached to him.

I think I heard him leave at like 5 in the morning. (Who gets up at 5 am????? Like on purpose). It’s hard to tell though because these fucking walls must be soundproofed or something because dayum.

But like why didn’t he wake me up and tell me to leave? He just trusted me to be alone in his apartment? Like holy shit! Not that I would do anything but like a;dlskfja;dslkfja;kjfa;lsdkjf. I get the feeling Lan Zhan wouldn’t do that for just anyone. so like. ad;sfja;sdklfja;sdlkfj;alsdkfjd;slkfjl

I stayed there just like laying in bed for a few more hours because like I didn’t want him to see me sneaking out way early. Idk it made sense at the time. But like I left him a note to thank him for dinner and letting me stay over and for the job and shit and I said how much I was looking forward to Saturday and all that and I like tried to remake the bed (I’m garbage at that but the trying counts for something right?) and I locked the door (Just the bottom one because i couldn’t do the deadbolt. I hope that’s okay) and went on my merry way to my other job.

I ended up working late so I still haven’t really slept so I’m sorry if this was all even more incoherent than usual. My heart is pounding just thinking about it (though that could also be because I’ve chugged like a million energy drinks and am probably now gonna die but I’m gonna say it’s because of Lan Zhan. More romantic that way).

I should sleep. I think I’ll try. I want to be fresh for tomorrow. (Should I dress up? or would that be weird? I mean I know it’s not really a date but I kinda wanna look nice anyway... mmmm I’ll try out some different outfits tomorrow. Find one that’s nice but still casual. That won’t be too weird right??? Right??? Ugh I’m too tired for this. I’m gonna go pass out)

#(Modern AU!)#Long post

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ppeasants · 5 years

Text

Ok, so, imagine this.

A Zelda AU or game or fic or something, where the three Triforce people are friends (how original, I know). Hear me out tho. It's gonna get extremely emotional (hopefully).

It starts like a whole bunch of years in the future. Like, so long that nobody remembers the legend of the Triforce, or the goddesses, or anything, except for maybe like 1 or 2 historians or something who believe it as myth. Maybe kinda like a BOTW world but before the Calamity, and with no Guardians or stuff. All the kingdoms are generally at peace or whatever, and Hyrule is the main one.

So, the Gerudo's birth a man, their first in however many years (it's Ganondorf). They have no idea what's going on, or why is happening and shit, so they talk with their elder, and they're confused too, so they go to Hyrule Kingdom, and they don't know what's going on. Nobody knows what's happened, but the Hyrule Kingdom is also celebrating the recent birth of a princess (it's Zelda), so they set up meetings to talk about this, and the two kids get to know eachother after a while. Also, some random other kid is born around the same time (it's Link).

So, Zelda and Ganondorf hang out and become friends, and Link is born to a travelling family of merchants or something, just to get him moving around and training to survive, and he meets Ganondorf and Zelda among his travels as kids at different points. eventually Link and his family settle down in Hyrule, and he grows up there from like 6-7 onwards. He sees Ganondorf coming in every once in a while, so they hang out and become friends. Ganondorf is usually coming with his family now that they know the royal family, and the two hang out, meaning Zelda and Ganondorf hang out. So Ganondorf makes Zelda and Link meet, and the two know eachother a little bit, so the three become friends.

They become super close friends, like REALLY close, cause they're the only people who aren't family who don't treat eachother differently, as Zelda is royalty, Link is mute, and Ganondorf is a Gerudo man. They grow up together, with Zelda on track to becoming queen, Ganondorf on track to becoming king, and Link being a commander or head guard or some shit. They're all extremely close, and good people, and it seems like the legend won't happen, not that people know about it anyways.

But you can't go against fate.

One of the advisors the king is visited by one of the historians or some shit who know about the legend of the Triforce, Hylia, and Demise, and how the man born into the Gerudo's will cause chaos or something. So, the advisor, tells the king and queen, and they get scared. Slowly they start to dissuade Zelda from seeing Ganondorf, thinking he's bad. She doesn't listen, so they get more drastic, like not allowing him into the kingdom, them not allowing Gerudos in, then stopping trade with them, and other stuff like that. Both Zelda and Link get mad with this, so they find workarounds to keep hanging out with Ganondorf.

Ganondorf and his people are really mad about this, but they don't do anything, hoping it'll blow over, cause they don't wanna start a war. Zelda and Link let him know they're against this.

Eventually, the historian and advisor convince the King and Queen to take action, so they do. They send in someone secretly to set fire to Gerudo Town. The entire city gets lit aflame, and about half the people or something make it out. the other half die. Ganondorf and his family makes it out. The king and queen, trying to save face or something, offer refuge in Hyrule, and offer apologies for not letting them in. With nowhere else to go, they all go there.

Ganondorf is devastated, so the three end up living together, and things seem to be going better. Then, Gerudo people start dying left and right. No one knows what's going on, a d eventually, Ganondorf's family is killed. Just as Ganondorf is about to be killed himself, the last living Gerudo, he manages to capture the attacker, who says it was the king and queen who not only hired him to kill the people in the town, but set fire to Gerudo Town.

Of course, Ganondorf is mad. He activates Ganon mode or something and goes on a rampage. Link and Zelda manage to calm him down, but not before he destroys part of the city. The king and queen banish him, and put a bounty on his head. Link and Zelda, furious at Hyrule, chase after him.

Eventually, they all meet, and talk about everything. How Ganondorf's family and people were killed, how he has a bounty, and how they came looking for him. Ganondorf asks how Zelda could let this happen. She says she didn't know about it. Ganondorf doesn't believe her. They fight, and they ask Link to choose a side. He picks Zelda.

Ganondorf with tears in his eyes says he's done. He's not gonna be nice. If people see him as a villain, then he'll be a villain. They try to talk him out of it, but he doesn't listen. He hits Link on accident, and he runs away in horror at what he's done. The two go back.

They tell the king and queen what happened, and they say they knew he was always evil. Link and Zelda counter, saying he was never evil, still isn't, just angry at the world and misguided. The advisor and historian walk in, and talk about the legend, and how they need to stop the evil before he can destroy everything. They say he's not evil. The historian convinces them to go out and activate their Triforce pieces to fulfill the prophecy.

They go out, link goes dungeon crawling like in the games, and Zelda does some soul searching or something, and they do it. Ganondorf also activates his by sheer anger and training or something.

They come back, and the historian reveals herself to be a messenger of the goddesses. She was planted to make sure the prophecy was fulfilled. She gave the ideas to outcast Ganondorf and the Gerudo's, she brought the person to set fire to Gerudo Town, and she hired the person who went around killing the Gerudo's. She reveals the goddesses influenced the king and queen to do this, because they need their prophecy to be fulfilled, no matter how cruel they need to be. They release the king and queen, and they feel ashamed at what they've done.

Just as Link and Zelda are in the middle of exploding at everyone in the room, there's a loud crash outside. They go out and they see Ganon rampaging in Hyrule. They go out to try to talk to him, but they can't.

So they have to fight him. They don't want to, but they do. And they win. They subdue him, but they don't kill him. He reverts back to Ganondorf, injured, but awake.

He yells at them to finish him off, they refuse. They let out all of their frustrations, their anger at everything for eachother, and what has happened to them. How the world, the goddesses, everything, has ruined all of their lives. How they just wanted to live their lives, be friends, and how they can't. How the goddesses forced them to fulfill a destiny which only caused them pain.

How even though he wants to, Ganondorf can't give up on his revenge. He knows how much it'll hurt everyone, how much it'll hurt his friends, himself, but he can't stop now. He's gone too far. He only wants his people back.

How Zelda doesn't want to be a ruler. How much she doesn't want to lead a kingdom that committed genocide on an innocent people, but she knows she has to, if only to make up for their mistakes. She only wants her innocence back.

How Link doesn't want to kill his friend. His friend who only knew hardships, and came out a good person, but was forced to be evil by some people who play with lives. He doesn't want to, but he knows he has to, it's his destiny. He only wants his friends back.

So they fight. They fight with the pain and anguish that they were pawns on someone else's game, and they have to suffer for it. There's no reason for it, but they have to, and it hurts. And Link wins. Ganondorf smiles, and Link and Zelda cry. And Ganondorf dies.

The historian disappears. The king and queen relinquish the throne to Zelda. She rules over Hyrule, only trying to right the wrongs of her people.

Link left hyrule, and just wanders. Like his family used to do, he lives alone and in the wild, but never visits Hyrule or the remains of Gerudo Town. He just walks.

And somewhere, a lone escaped Gerudo Lady gives birth to a beautiful Gerudo daughter.

And the cycle continues.

This is probably really incoherent and also already done and also not very good, but I've just wanted to get this idea I've had out into the world.

I would def have a lot more fluff b/w the trio before shit goes down, and I would write a lot better (hopefully) when it's actually a story.

Let me know if it's any good, and what changes I should make, and what I could add. Also lemme know about other similar stories, cause I wanna read them.

If u read through all this word garbage, thanks :).

#the legend of zelda #tloz #zelda #link #ganondorf #ganon #botw #breath of the wild #au #story ideas #fanfic #fanfiction #video games #angst #fine ill do it myself

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queensuggar · 5 years

Text

So I Usually watch GoT with the boyfriend but since I was home alone last night I wrote hella notes here are the highlights.

(Added because I was mostly rambling incoherently)

Arya got dressed hella fast good for you boo.

Oh yea Brienne and Greyworm are def dead.

Farewell Jorah too.

Oh my Goddamn stop building tension with new angles and show me the zombies

BITCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

MELISANDRA IS HERE FOR THE DRAMA

Grey Worm: this white heaux is something else.

Ser Davos: Kill Bill Sirens

EVERY EXPRESSION IN THIS SHOW IS SO INTENSE I DON'T HAVE TIME TO WRITE IT ALL DOWN

Oh yea that whole battalion is hella dead

Well the that was badass for all of 2 seconds

NAH THIS SOME WWZ SHIT

I know its so we can see their faces as they breath their last but Brienne and Jamie should really be wearing helmets.

Just waiting for the Night King to Yeet another dragon out of the sky

"Stick em with the pointy end"

FULL CIRCLE

Enter Theon, also a Dead mf'er

tbh I'm not even equipped to watch Sam die and I'm JUST NOW realizing this fuck.

THE CRYPTS OF WINTERFELL ARE SAFE.

TYRION IS ALWAYS A MOOD

LYANNA MORMONT ISN'T ALLOWED TO DIE OK? OK.

TBH I CAN'T SEE A DAMN THING

So I'm just gonna interrupt this bloody mayhem to remind everyone that Cersei isn't just a bitch, shes an idiot one.

Ok I might worship the Lord of Light now tbh

OOOOH THAT'S SCARY (I'm not even sure what I'm referencing here but tbh just pick your favorite scary part it still works)

THE CRYPTS OF WINTERFELL ARE SAFE

VARYS IS ALSO A MOOD

Sansa: you're the best husband I've had.

Tyrion: Big yikes

holy shit Bran actually said something kind of comforting

bran went into the Avatar state hopefully he does something useful with it.

Tbh Jorah is Chad as hell and I'm really proud of him.

Awww my power couple (Jamie and Brienne)

Sam I'm gonna be honest.

I'm not sure why you're even here.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

LYANNA

YOU WERE THE BADDEST BITCH IN THE GAME

EVERYTHING IS GARBAGE

SNEAK 100 (Arya)

THE CRYPTS OF WINTERFELL ARE SAFE

if they actually turn out to be safe I will never cease cackling but we all know that's a lie.

Daddy Clegane has come to rescue his feral murder child.

Oh and that flaming sword guy is here too I guess.

BITCH

Melisandra literally only knows how to make dramatic entrances.

("They're coming.")

Yes Theon we guessed that from the snarling.

Tbh what the fuck have Dany and Jon been doing today.

TBH JON I'M HONESTLY SHOCKED YOU HAVEN'T FALLEN OFF BEFORE NOW PLOT ARMOR IS A HELL OF A DRUG

Jon Snow is...is this your plan.

Oh bby you don't want none a this

GODDAMNIT LEAVE LYANNA ALONE

(Jon) I hope you got more magic than "resurrected that one time" and "maybe fireproof." (he's not even fireproof)

THE CRYPTS OF WINTERFELL ARE SAFE

(Dany arrives)

Oh looks like good dick was the magic all along.

Oh shidddd (Dany falls)

(Jorah arrives)

SEE

THE POWER OF BONERS IS STRONGER.

(Sansa and Tyrion)

Tbh at this point I kinda ship it.

Oh lol wait Varys and Gilly are dead aren't they. (They lived. Good for them)

YUP. SHIP SAILED

Theon you get a gold star from me. A for effort.

I just had the thought of Jaime killing Cersei as a Wight and it's delicious. But I guess he could live too.

("Theon, you're a good man")

Holy crap Bran you're almost a person.

Bye Theon.

Why is Bran shitty Teenage Professor X

I'm terrible but Theon looked like a fish drowning on land. (My boyfriend pointed out that he's an Iron Islander and OhMyGod)

Who does the Night King's Manicures? WHO?

ARYA

GOD

A GODDESS

MY QUEEN

PLEASE LET ME HAVE YOUR CHILDREN

-pause-

OH GOD DAMN THE REST OF THIS IS THE CERSEI SHOW AINT IT

WAIT A SECOND. ONLY LYANNA, THEON AND MAYBE ONE OTHER PERSON OF RELEVANCE DIED

oh and Jorah I guess

Lol who am I kidding I'm gonna cry like a baby when I stop dissociating.

EVEN THE RED BITCH LIVES????????

NANI???????

Oh nevermind I guess.

I mean.

Cool.

(Anyways I cannot believe that Arya's grown so much like she fucking bodied the entire Zombie apocalypse.

Also I'm naming a child Lyanna now.)

#game of thrones #got spoilers #GoT 803 #episode 3 spoilers #arya stark #jon snow #danaerys targaryen

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aoimokuren · 6 years

Text

Lost in Time

WARNING: talks of heavy topics that may make others uncomfortable. Heavy angst, slight fluff. Merry Christmas Taz! I hope you enjoy lovely.

The moon was the only light in the sea of darkness that surrounded her. It was her silver lining, a simple string of hope. It gave her nearly broken, isolated spirit something fleeting to hold onto in the middle of another cold, dark winter night. It was an endless stream of thoughts that meant nothing as she searched for an answer, yet all she was given were the chills ran up her spine as another gust of wind blew past her.

Her neat dark locks were blown into disarray around her perfectly made-up porcelain face. Her hands turning ice cold, her breathe released in uneven puffs of white. She shrunk into her thick, dark brown trench coat and turned to face the window of the restaurant behind her.

The lights of the restaurant had been turned off for quite some time and all the employees returned home for the evening, but she continued to wait. She would wait until he showed up for her. She would wait until her mind willed her to admit that he was no longer coming, but that wasn’t something she was willing to admit. She knew him. She knew him like the back of her hand...or so she thought.

She couldn’t risk leaving because what if he showed up? What if he thought she left? She shook her head trying to will the demons of her mind away as fixed her hair, readjusting her bangs on her forehead. She pressed her cool fingertips to her lips as she noticed a shadowy figure under the flickering street light in the reflection of the window.

There was a sudden uneasiness she couldn’t shake. She tries to steady her sudden increase in heart rate as she attempts to rationalize the sudden fear that has been embedded in the pit of her stomach. It’s a wave of heavy, unshakeable nausea that she’s tried to rationalize every time her instincts tell her different.

It’s nothing; whoever they are appear harmless enough. It must just be some random homeless person wandering around the neighborhood looking for food or something.

Suddenly the pay phone a few blocks down started to ring. An ear piercing, unignorable ringing that she couldn’t block out even if she tried. She glanced at the phone wondering whether or not to answer it. The street light above her head humming with a slight flicker as it threatens to go out at any second. Her instincts are screaming at her, telling her to stay away from the phone, but something within her causes her to look up.

The strange shadow figure still looming under the streetlight, analyzing her every move. Every shaky breath she takes giving him another rush of adrenaline. Before she can look away the man raises a pale, sickly hand and points to the phone. The phone continues to ring and she doesn’t know what to do. She stares back and forth, from the man to the phone, but when she can’t take any more of the ringing she snatched it off the hook.

“What?!” She exclaims into the receiver.

A tired, weary voice replied with her name, “Taz.”

She froze. A sense of complete fear taking over her entire frame. She couldn’t find her voice. A large, thick lump appeared in her throat as she tried to thickly swallow the unfathomable amount of terror she felt hearing the voice she longed for. Her palms began to sweat, her heart began to pound violently against her ribs. Her frozen hands heavy as she gripped the phone tightly, her knuckles turning white. Her mind and body registered the voice, but none of it felt real.

She replied weakly, “Hyunwoo?”

“You have to listen to me. You aren’t safe, I need you to-” He started, but a loud thud followed by incoherent cursing traveled into her ears.

She became frantic, clutching the phone with both hands, “Hyunwoo? Hyunwoo?! Please answer me, baby. What’s going on?”

Instead of hearing the voice she desperately wanted, the voice she loved, another deep, menacing voice replaced his, “I want to play a little game Taz.”

Again, Taz could say nothing as she stood frozen in place inside the old telephone booth. She waited for the other person to continue, but it seemed as if he was waiting for a reply. Taz took a deep breath and spoke through clenched teeth.

“What do you want?” she hissed, heat simmering in her stomach as her fear subsided.

The voice chuckled and replied, “Everything. It’s that simple.”

“I still don’t understand. What the fuck does Hyunwoo have to do with any of this?!” She exclaimed, her eyebrows knitting together.

Again the voice chuckled, “He’s the sole reason you’re standing in front of that restaurant. You thought he ditched you, left you for good.” The voice had an undeniable playfulness as he continued, “I wouldn’t blame him if he did leave you. It’s not like you deserve him anyway.”

“Hyunwoo wouldn’t do that.” her voice faltered at the very thought of Hyunwoo disappearing. His plump rosy lips spreading over his teeth as his face scrunched and his shoulders Taz momentarily into the smile that made her heart melt, “He wouldn’t just leave.”

Tauntingly the voice replied, “He’s done it before what makes you think he won’t again?”

Taz heard Hyunwoo’s deep, tired voice in the background screaming, “Don’t talk to her like that you son of a bitch! She’s more than you’d ever-”

“Shut the fuck up!” the voice exclaimed. She heard Hyunwoo groan in pain once again and her heart sank even further into her stomach.

“Stop! Stop it! Leave him alone!” She cried out in vain. She had to figure out how to get to him. She had no clue as to where he was, or whom he was with. It was useless, and Taz had never felt so helpless before.

“Listen to me and listen well, because I hate repeating myself. Understand?” the snake-like voice demanded.

“Fine, I don’t care. I’ll do whatever you want, just please stop hurting him.” She pleaded, hot tears welling in her eyes.

“I know you’re scared but you don’t need to be.” The voice said sweetly causing Taz to cringe in disgust.

“What do you want?! I said I would do what you asked.” She exclaimed her throat stinging as she raised her voice again.

Taz shuddered once again as the voice on the other end snickered. She could hear the smirk in his voice as he spoke again, “The only thing I want you to do is to kill yourself, then we’ll be even.”

“What?” She choked, “What do you mean ‘kill myself?’”

“Well, I would do it myself, but then that would complicate things. It’s much easier to get rid of the middleman. Oh, and you see that man across the street?” the voice prompted. Taz looked up terrified at the man she had thought was harmless before.

The voice seethed with pure amusement, “He’ll report back to me once you’ve done it, and if you try to play a trick or do something you know won’t get you killed, well let’s just say he has fun taking out the garbage.”

“Fine,” She said in a barely audible tone. She had to be the stupidest person on earth to actually agree to something like this, but if it was going to save Hyunwoo, well then it was worth with it.

“Taz! TAZ! You better not do what he says! I don’t care what happens to me!” Hyunwoo exclaimed once again.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up!?” She winced away from the phone, as she heard another yelp of pain come from the man she loved.

Taz didn’t know the torture that Hyunwoo was going through, but his cries were enough. She couldn’t take hearing him like that much longer. If she did, there was no way she could live with herself if he was killed.

“Can you put Hyunwoo on the phone?” She asked a sudden rush of confidence in her voice.

Defiant and curt the voice replied, “No.”

She begged once more as more tears streaked down her cheeks, “Please, it will be the last time I talk to him.”

The voice sighed and went silent. After a few seconds, heavy breathing could be heard on the other end, and Taz’s heart began pounding against her ribs, nervous once again.

“Hyunwoo?”

“Taz!”

Taz let out a sigh of relief, “Hyunwoo, listen to me. I have no idea what is going on, but I can’t stand the sound of you in pain, especially at my expense. It isn’t worth it, and I would rather die than cause you any type of pain.”

“Taz, stop talking nonsense! I’ll be fine, and so will you. Then we can go on our date like we had planned,” he said. She could hear the smile in his voice, but it only caused her more pain as she imagined his face.

She shook her head although she knew he couldn’t see, “No, I can’t let anyone hurt you.”

“Shouldn’t I be saying that?” He chuckled and then groaned in pain.

“Taz, just know one thing, no matter what happens today, tomorrow, next week, or a year from now I’ve always loved you and I always will. No one can convince me otherwise, not even myself.”

Another tear fell down Taz’s cheek that she quickly wiped away, “I love you too.”

After that, the line went dead. The shrill buzzing noise filled the streets once again, and Taz fell to her knees. She screamed at the tops of her lungs until she couldn’t breathe and her voice was hoarse. Her head felt heavy and her body sagged as thoughts raced endlessly.

After what felt like hours, Taz finally picked herself up and tried to find her balance. She locked eyes with the man across the street although she couldn’t see his face. He nodded at her and started to make his way towards her. A shot of electricity shot through as she took off down the street. She didn’t have a clue as to where she was going, but she wasn’t about to just give in. If she was going to die, she would rather see Hyunwoo one last time before she closed her eyes forever.

***

Her breathing came out sharp, jagged, while her legs ached and cried for her to stop, but she refused with Hyunwoo on her mind. She didn’t know how long she had been running. She ran with a purpose, but no direction.

She was lost that she was sure of, but she didn’t care. She would search the entire city until she found him, no matter how long it took. Taz made the mistake of looking behind her catching a glimpse of the hooded man tailing her. She thought she had lost him a while back, and she didn’t think he would have been able to keep up with her.

She rounded one of the street corners again and collapsed against the wall. Taz’s body was defeated, her mind was mentally drained, but as more thoughts of Hyunwoo popped into her head the stronger her resolve became.

Lost in her trail of thoughts, she hardly had time to react when a hand clamped down hard on her mouth. The hand was rough, icy, and grimy from rummaging through God knows what. Taz tried to fight and pry his hand from her mouth, in her struggle his hood slipped off his head. His icy glare caused Taz to stand absolutely still, her hands clutching his wrist.

When he spoke his voice was deep, hoarse, and raspy, “Would you stop fighting and let me explain something to you?!”

The man sighed, dropping hand at his side. Taz took the chance to make a run for it, just as the man began to sit on the ground on the wall opposite her.

He called out to Taz, “I know where Hyunwoo is.”

Taz stopped in her tracks, pondering on the words as they buzzed through her ears. How could she know if he was telling the truth? What made this man so trustworthy?

“Look, I don’t have time for this. You either need to kill yourself, let me do it, or I bring you to lover-boy. Take your pick.” He said with a heavy sigh.

“How can I trust you?” She asked skeptically.

“You don’t. You just have to follow me.” He looked up at her tall, lean frame and raised an eyebrow.

She didn’t have any other options and considering that he was the one who was supposed to watch her die he had to have some knowledge of Hyunwoo’s whereabouts. Taz sighed to herself and walked back over to the man. Anxious she shifted her weight from back in forth, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Fine, let’s go.” She said extending a hand to him, helping him off the ground.

Once he was off the ground, he began walking in the opposite direction they had come. Taz followed behind him; several feet back so that if anything were to happen she could quickly get away. She looked up at the pitch, black abyss people called the sky. She tried to find the beauty in it, but all she could see was despair, anguish, and defeat. It was a blank canvas that would never be painted, an endless pit of nothing waiting to suck the life out her at any given second.

The ground beneath her shoes crunched, sounding louder than ever before to her ears. Leaves rustled in the gust of wind, some skidding across the sidewalk; in the distance, dogs could be heard barking, but not a soul person was moving which made things even eerier. The man peered back at Taz, a throaty cough catching in his throat. Taz felt the urge to help him but held back once he recovered, but she hadn’t noticed he stopped.

“Is this where Hyunwoo is?” She asked looking up at the abandoned building. He simply nodded at her in reply.

They stood in front of the large, cubic building. The roof was rusty and trash was in every corner. They pushed open a flimsy scrap door stepping on the cement floor that made their steps sound louder than they really were, yet it was so eerily quiet that a pin could be heard if it dropped. They entered an empty room, with cement walls and wooden crates stacked up to the ceiling. Taz’s ears perked up when she heard a scraping noise come from somewhere down the hall.

“Did you hear that?”

Taz stood still and listened for the sound again. Nothing. She turned to search another hall when muffled voices came from one of the rooms. She crept closer, stealthily down the hall trying not to make a sound. As she continued to make her way down the hall the voices became vividly clear.

She looked at the door up and down and said, “This is it.”

She started to reach for the door but was stopped by a strong hand. She looked at the person agitated at them for stopping her. It was the man that had brought her to this place that had stopped her, but she couldn’t let anyone else interfere.

“Let me go,” She said tugging her wrist.

“Do you have any idea what you’re getting yourself into?” He demanded in a hushed whisper.

“I don’t care. Hyunwoo is behind this door, and all I want to do is see him, as long as that happens I don’t care about anything else.” She said firmly in her resolve.

“You don’t understand you?! You have no idea what you’re up against!”

“Oh, and what makes you such the expert?”

“You need to snap out of this, besides I only know because he’s my-” Before he could finish the door they stood in front of had sprung open. No one stood on the other side except for a tied up, bloody, and bruised Hyunwoo who sat limply tied in a wooden chair.

“So nice of you to join us, Ms. Taz.” said a voice snaking through Taz’s ears, “Big thanks to Hyungwon for bringing in the prey. He’s such a great big brother.”

Taz was shocked to hear that the disembodied voice and the man standing next to her were related. She immediately recognized the voice from the one that had threatened her on the phone, but something didn’t seem quite right.

“I honestly thought you would have kept your word and killed yourself, but it looks like I’ll have to get my hands dirty once again.”

Taz was gripped by the hair and dragged into the room. Once she was in, Taz scrambled her way over to Hyunwoo, taking his face in her hands. She pressed her forehead against his, kissing the tip of his dirty nose. His eyes fluttered open just a bit, a tired, weary smile gracing his lips.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Such a heartwarming moment you two are having right now, I hate it.” Said the voice ripping them apart.

Taz lied on her back looking around the room before she spoke again, “Are you really such a coward that you have to hide behind some phony voice? Why don’t you show me your face?”

“You really have no idea who you’re messing with, do you?” the voice hissed.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt her.” Hyunwoo interrupted.

“That was before she lied; now everything is fair game. It’s bad though,” murmured the voice, “I hate it when people lie to me.”

“You can’t do that!” Hyunwoo yelled struggling in his restraints.

“Watch me.” Said the voice sinisterly.

“I still don’t understand. How are you able to hurt me, when I can’t even see you?” She looked around terrified.

The voice replied coldly, “The most deadly things are the ones unseen.”

Taz felt immense pressure around her head and throat. It felt an enormous weight was crushing her lungs, squeezing the life out of her. The world around her started to fade away, blurring into one solid grey blob.

“Time’s up Taz,” said the voice inside her head.

“You still never told me who you were…” she thought feeling her throat tighten.

Her sight becoming blurry and limbs lost all their strength. Her mind became fuzzy and her thoughts were disoriented. Her breaths came in shorter and shallower as she felt the cool ground beneath her.

“Death,” the voice chuckled as Taz breathed her last breath.

***

Taz was curled up into a ball position on the ground, or at least that was what she thought. The last thing she could recall was that a sinister voice echoing in her head. The words like sharp talons piercing through her every thought, crushing her until she could no longer comprehend her reality. The only thing she knew that kept her going was the thought of the one person she loves.

A soft voice called out to her, “Taz.”

He laid a hand on her arm and gently caressed her cheek with the other, calling her name again, “Taz.”

He tucked her hair behind her ear and bent over to kiss her nose as she had done to him many times before. An adoring smile spread over his thick pink lips as he studied her face. He hadn’t realized how much he missed touching her face, seeing her soft peaceful features as she slept.

“Taz, wake up.”

Her eyes fluttered open searching for the voice she had just heard. She already knew who it belonged to, but she wasn’t sure if she was dreaming. Taz sat up looking around the white spacious area around her. Illuminated, every corner and crease warmly glowed, but something even brighter outshone it all.

The figure in all white stood a few feet in front of her. Shielding her eyes the silhouette of a tall, lean, young man began to take form, the light around him softly fading his features becoming clearer. He reached out for her hand, but Taz was slightly hesitant.

She had to be dreaming, either that or she was going insane, but the way her heart began palpitating in her chest there was no way it was a dream. She gripped his hand lacing her hand with his and finally found her voice.

She spoke confidently and pulled him into a breathtaking hug, “Hyunwoo.”

He buried his face in her hair, tightly hugging her against his body. Hyunwoo lifted Taz a few feet off of the ground twirling her in the air. He placed her back on her feet and softly kissed her lips. She smiled against his lips but didn’t break the kiss, wrapping her thin, lanky arms around his neck.

Slowly Hyunwoo pulled away and pressed his forehead against hers, “Do you realize how long I’ve waited to hold you like this again?”

“No, but I don’t understand. What happened?”

Taz felt Hyunwoo stiffen in her embrace. She pulled out of the hug and looked at him confused.

Were things that bad?

“Hyunwoo, what happened?”

Hyunwoo looked at the ground, his voice suddenly small, “You really don’t remember?”

Taz shook her head, her brows knitting in confusion. Hyunwoo looked down at her. He wore the saddest expression that she had ever seen before, and Taz’s heart sank.

“You killed yourself Taz.”

Her voice hitched in her throat, “I…wh-why?”

Hyunwoo sighed and took her hand, “Taz, I died a year ago yesterday in a plane crash. Every day since then you went to the restaurant that we promised to meet on that day. Of course, I’ve kept an eye on you, but I can only do so much to protect you from yourself.”

“Every day I watched as you slowly started to fade away and lose your hold on the world around you, shutting everything else out and living in your memories. It wasn’t until a month ago when things started to get much, much worse. You started to hear voices and seeing things that weren’t there. It was so hard to watch you fall into such a deep, dark hole.”

Taz caught a tear that fell down Hyunwoo’s cheek. He leaned into her warm hand, placing his hand over hers.

“I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t realize how bad I had become. I made everything up in my head? What was wrong with me?!” She said shocked at everything Hyunwoo had described.

“You didn’t have the help. You were completely on your own, but don’t worry. Although our human lives ended in a tragedy that doesn’t mean it’ll happen again.” He said.

“True, but Hyunwoo where are we?”

He simply said, “Purgatory.”

“Is that a good or bad thing?”

“Depends, but I don’t care how long I’m here as long as I’m here with you.”

Taz smiled, intertwining their hands once more.

#monstax hyunwoo shownu angst monstaximagines shortstory

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valhallaisland · 6 years

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I just finished Utopia for Realists by Rutger Bregman. Overall it was a little incoherent and lacked unification between the ideas. But maybe that’s the point, a utopia isn’t one complete integrated system but a sum of utopian parts.

One major thing I learnt was just how close Reagan got to implementing something close to a universal basic income in 1968. It’s a visceral reminder of just how far the Overton window has shifted to the right.

Some notable excerpts:

All the while, the market and commercial interests are enjoying free rein. The food industry supplies us with cheap garbage loaded with salt, sugar, and fat, putting us on the fast track to the doctor and dietitian. Advancing technologies are laying waste to ever more jobs, sending us back again to the job coach. And the ad industry encourages us to spend money we don’t have on junk we don’t need in order to impress people we can’t stand.28 Then we can go cry on our therapist’s shoulder. That’s the dystopia we are living in today.

In the 1950s, only 12% of young adults agreed with the statement “I’m a very special person.” Today 80% do,32 when the fact is, we’re all becoming more and more alike. We all read the same bestsellers, watch the same blockbusters, and sport the same sneakers.

True progress begins with something no knowledge economy can produce: wisdom about what it means to live well. We have to do what great thinkers like John Stuart Mill, Bertrand Russell, and John Maynard Keynes were already advocating 100 years ago: to “value ends above means and prefer the good to the useful.

“Man needs, for his happiness, not only the enjoyment of this or that, but hope and enterprise and change,”35 the British philosopher Bertrand Russell once wrote. Elsewhere he continued, “It is not a finished Utopia that we ought to desire, but a world where imagination and hope are alive and active.”

“Anywhere you find poor people, you also find non-poor people theorizing their cultural inferiority and dysfunction.”

As the writer Kevin Kelly says, “Productivity is for robots. Humans excel at wasting time, experimenting, playing, creating, and exploring.”

Research suggests that across national boundaries, parents are dedicating substantially more time to their children.21 In the U.S., working mothers actually spend more time with their kids today than stay-at-home moms did in the 1970s.

Scarcity impinges on your mind. People behave differently when they perceive a thing to be scarce. What that thing is doesn’t much matter; whether it’s too little time, money, friendship, food–it all contributes to a “scarcity mentality.” And this has benefits. People who experience a sense of scarcity are good at managing their short-term problems. Poor people have an incredible ability–in the short term–to make ends meet, the same way that overworked CEOs can power through to close a deal.

This paradox is neatly summed up by an anecdote from the 1960s. When Henry Ford’s grandson gave labor union leader Walter Reuther a tour of the company’s new, automated factory, he jokingly asked, “Walter, how are you going to get those robots to pay your union dues?” Without missing a beat, Reuther answered, “Henry, how are you going to get them to buy your cars?”

It could easily take a generation, he asserted, before new ideas prevail. For this very reason, we need thinkers who not only are patient, but also have “the courage to be ‘utopian.’” Let this be the lesson of Mont Pèlerin. Let this be the mantra of everyone who dreams of a better world, so that we don’t once again hear the clock strike midnight and find ourselves just sitting around, empty-handed, waiting for an extraterrestrial salvation that will never come. Ideas, however outrageous, have changed the world, and they will again. “Indeed,” wrote Keynes, “the world is ruled by little else.”

The chapter on the 15 hour workweek ends with my favorite Oscar Wilde quote:

Work is the refuge of people who have nothing better to do.

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themusicjerk · 6 years

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Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band - Trout Mask Replica

I was stopped once again on my way to Travis’ house to return his Sex Pistols CD. At this rate, I doubt he’ll ever get it back. He should be thanking me. My friend April saw that I was feeling pretty beaten up, and asked me what the matter was. “A Tribe Called Quest,” I told her. “They’re awful. It’s the same thing over and over again for an entire hour. And don’t get me started on the Sex Pistols.” She was surprised that I was even listening to music - me, the Music Jerk, who only knows three songs and hates all of them, and she said that if I wanted music that wasn’t afraid to try new things and go off the beaten path, I should listen to Trout Mask Replica.

I’m a little more willing to trust April, being of the fairer sex, after all. Perhaps listening to this CD will finally convince me that good music is out there. From my research, it seems that Captain Beefheart, Drumbo, Antennae Jimmy Semens, Zoot Horn Rollo, Rockette Morton, and The Mascara Snake got together because of their undeniable rock star names, and Beefheart locked them all in a mansion until the album was absolutely perfect. “Perfect,” “new,” “good,” I have high hopes for this record. April wouldn’t even tell me what genre it was. So here goes nothing.

...

.........

......

.................

What in God’s good name is this garbage?????

So the first track on this album is called “Frownland” which seems to be exactly where I am being transported as I listen to this. Beefheart’s scratchy, off-key pseudoblues singing is a vain attempt to add melody or order to what I can only describe as a cat walking across a synthesizer and a guitar falling down stairs. As soon as “Frownland” ends, Beefheart begins sing “The Dust Blows Forward ‘n the Dust Blows Back,” without any support whatsoever from his Magic Band. Perhaps they all died in the great massacre that was “Frownland.”

I’ve listened to bad music before, but this is insulting. Dom and Travis at least had the good sense to give me CDs that I didn’t immediately recognize as instruments of torture. This is like a conversation with a homeless person that you didn’t know you were starting but that now you can’t escape from.

Off-beat drums and dissonant guitars return as Beefheart attempts to sing “Dachau Blues.” I say ‘attempt’ because the melody and rhythm are all over the place, and I cannot believe that anyone was locked anywhere in an attempt to make this perfect, unless of course they were so malnourished and traumatized by the whole experience that they forgot their original point. Then again, I would think trying to make good music would be akin to spinning gold from straw. The middle of this song has what sounds like the humming of an electromagnet, which I can only imagine is another way in which Beefheart is torturing his band.

Their tortured screams can be heard in “Ella Guru,” in fact even being used as what I can only suppose is supposed to be the chorus of said song. The scary bit is that I’m only seven minutes into this CD and there’s two of them. That’s right, April gave me this torture device and it comes with two discs. It will be a chore and a nightmare to try to even put the second disc in the player, but I will hold out hope that something here pulls back, says “haha gotcha,” and actually lays off my eardrums.

The squealing of elephants and deflated balloons that is “Hair Pie: Bake 1″ is not that, though. “Hair Pie: Bake 1″ is about the exact opposite of everything that a theoretical good music should be. Imagine you’re at the pier, and you hear the foghorn of a ship, but there is a booger caught in the horn and so the foghorn is whistling in and out of its tone. That’s “Hair Pie.” Halfway through, guitar and drums come in as if to try and convince me that this “song” has rhythm, but neither the guitar nor the drums are playing in time with each other. The best thing I can say about this “song” is that at least Beefheart isn’t trying to sing anymore.

Then, there’s about a minute of some guy rambling about an octafish, whatever that is. Dead air, um, dead air. This gives way to “Moonlight on Vermont,” which is the closest thing to an actual song I’ve heard all day. The drums and guitar are actually playing the same rhythm (for the most part) but Beefheart’s incoherent screaming still grates the eardrums like nails on a chalkboard. The guitar meanders and seems to confuse trying to find the right note with artistry.

“Gimme that old time religion,” Beefheart repeats over and over with no regard to meter or rhythm. I’m having flashbacks to Johnny Rotten’s “Holidays in the Sun,” which, with all due respect is better than anything else on this record.

“A squid eating dough in a polyethylene bag is fast and bulbous, you got me?”

No, Beefy, I don’t got you.

“Pachuco Cadaver” is somehow the most generic song I’ve ever heard, as it sounds like it was written in an elementary school music class. It also sounds like it was played by elementary schoolers, because despite its very basic chord progression, we’ve again returned to none of the instruments playing in time, and Beefheart has given up any attempt to make a melody as he now rants about everything and nothing all at once on top of instruments playing whenever they feel like.

Oh goodness, they have somehow managed to combine saxophones with geese, my two least favorite noises in the world. Next time a fascist regime seeks to take over the world, they should hire these guys as interrogators. I would talk so fast.

To April’s credit, this is unlike anything I’d ever heard. At this point, though, I’m no longer surprised by it. I’m just waiting for it to be over. There is nothing here that could be construed as pleasant or exciting. To call it listenable is an overstatement.

“Oh lady look up in time, oh lady look out of love And you should have us all or you should have us fall”

My favorite bits, if favorite is even the right word to use, are when it sounds like he’s finally shutting up, like at the end of “Bills Corpse,” but the disorganized alarm tones of “Sweet Sweet Bulbs” prove that he’s not done yet.

“Neon Meate Dreams Of A Octafish” makes about as much sense as the title does. Beefy has now taken a step further away from melody. Now, he is literally just shouting gibberish in my ear while the guitar and drums do their own independent things. This is what it would sound like if Jack Torrance made a record. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. We’ve brought back the elephants. Is there no end to this torture?

“China Pig” sounds like it was recorded from a bathroom. Even the recording engineer couldn’t stomach this and had to retreat and record from a distance. Maybe this album would sound better if I retreated and listened from a distance, by which I mean, put the album to continue playing in my room while I run as far away as possible and disassociate myself with my exfriend April.

Maybe that’s a little harsh, but if April, or Travis, or Dom, or any of you had my best interests at heart, you would not be torturing me like this. I’m not a big sports guy, but I “get” sports. I see the appeal of sports. It’s competition, it’s hometown pride, it’s a way for local underdogs to become massive heroes, and it’s exciting to see how it plays out. If music is just people angrily shouting over people who don’t know how to play instruments, like everything I’ve been listening to over the last few days, then I must confess, I don’t “get” music. I was sort of hoping, honestly, that this project would open my eyes, but it really hasn’t. It’s just confirmed what I already knew.

Oh, “My Human Gets Me Blues.” I guess the engineer is out of the bathroom. Let’s see, what can I say about this? Uh. It has no melody and I don’t know what the guitar and drums are trying to do. I could probably fake my way through the rest of this album just saying that about every song. But maybe, I’ll suffer whatever aneurysm possessed the band to record this album later on and suddenly I’ll become a music fan.

“Dali’s Car” is a guitar solo, which is good, because it means that there are no drums or vocals for the guitar to be playing out of time with. Though, I should clarify: “Dali’s Car” is not a guitar solo which is good. Commas are important. It, like everything else on the record, seems to be dissonant chords and random notes at random times. And that’s the first disc.

It didn’t even end. The randomness of the notes means that the last note on the first disc sounds like the middle of a phrase. I just... I have to listen to the second disc. I need to know *what* April could possibly hear in this. Give me a minute.

First disc reflections: It’s awful. This is what schizophrenia must feel like. It should be illegal to call this music. This makes the Sex Pistols look like talented men, and A Tribe Called Quest poetic. Is that what music is? Listening to music so bad that you can apologize for music that is less bad? Seems like a situation with no winners. Is the only way to win to not play the game? And yet I’ve committed to this, and the last note of “Dali’s Car” has not given me any sort of satisfactory resolution. Here I go. Disc two. Wish me luck.

“Hair Pie: Bake 2???” Was the first one not bad enough??? At least this one doesn’t have so many elephants and deflated balloons. Actually, this one doesn’t sound too bad. I think it’s happening. The aneurysm is happening. Maybe I need to go run laps or something. Focus. Wow. That jarring key change just knocked me out of whatever hypnotic trance they just placed on me. Make no mistake: this is bad. It is clear and evident that the band have no idea what they are doing.

If I hear the phrase “fast and bulbous” one more time I swear I’m going to start saying it too. When a hostage or prisoner begins to develop a friendly relationship with their kidnapper, that is called Stockholm Syndrome, which seems to be developing in my brain in a “fast and bulbous” manner. I did not ask to be here, but here I am, stuck.

Oh my goodness. “Pena” is the Spanish word for “pain” in the metaphorical “pain-in-the-neck” sort of way. Well, that’s what the song “Pena,” is. Gone is any possible inkling that this music might be good. The tortured squealing of whoever-this-is has returned me exactly to where I was on the first disc. It’s like they knew that prisoners become numbed to torture, so they’re still thinking of new ways to break me.

Beefheart singing “Well” sounds like a song a prisoner might sing - sung by my jailer, it is both painfully ironic and borderline abusive.

“Thick black felt birds a-flying With capes of solid chrome With feathers of solid chrome And beaks of solid bone,”

Did these words mean anything when Beefy wrote them or were they always word salad?

“When Big Joan Sets Up” is the culmination of everything terrible about the album, with offbeat instrumentals and an extended goosaphone solo. I’m three minutes into this song and it sounds like the guitarist is just trying to end it already, but the bassist wants to keep playing for some reason. The geese are getting angry. I don’t like angry geese.

“Is she a boy?” No. Next question.

“What do you run on, Rocket Morton?” “I run on beans. I run on LASER beans.”

Sure you do.

I will not lie, the bassist on “Fallin’ Ditch” is actually making an effort to play something with a melody. If only the guitarist, drummer, and singer were on the same page. As it stands now, we have a decent bass line - not great, but something you might hear on People’s Instinctive Rhythms and the Paths of Melody - now being tortured by the strangling mess that is the rest of this album’s production.

“Sugar ‘n Spikes” again features an attempt at a hook. I think I know what Beefy’s game is, and why April thinks this is a good album. The first disc is so bad that no matter what they throw at me in the second half, it has to sound better by comparison. “Big Joan” and “Pena” notwithstanding, I must admit that I am much happier than I was half an hour ago.

But then I think about listening to “Ant Man Bee” on purpose. I think if I ever heard this by itself, on its own accord, I would have post-war flashbacks. The other albums I’ve listened to were bad, this is traumatic. This upsets my brain chemistry. When this album ends and I can see the world in color again, I’ll wonder how I ever smiled listening to the insane ramblings of a man with a terrible name. But even the saxophone has started to become a familiar edge to hang onto for me. Oh, saxophone that sounds like a deflated balloon, we’ve been through so much, you and I. Remember that time on “Hair Pie (Bake 1)” when you were the worst thing ever? Good times, good times.

If I listen to “Orange Claw Hammer,” enough, my vocabulary will become fast and bulbous. Havin’ t’ shine a wallet f’r a hamm’r, ‘llbe my career. Man with olives f’r eyes off’rs me a chicken f’r my troubles, but th’ chicken won’ stop singin’.

Hold on, you mean to say you can’t even pronounce the word “licorice?” No, no, no. I’ve still got one foot in reality, and I will stand my ground. I’ll not be pulled into the vortex that is the gibberish dream of Captain Beefheart. Remember “The Dust Blows Forward ‘n The Dust Blows Back” when this was the worst thing ever? Good times, good times.

No! Not good times. I will not have this aneurysm. Not today. Objectively, there is nothing good about any of this. I should never have started calling him “Beefy.” That’s where this all started. There is no difference between “Wild Life” and “Frownland” except that “Wild Life” has more geese. But it’s become familiar, now. I’ve been trapped here, listening to Trout Mask Replica for so long that it has become the only life I’ve ever known.

You know what, besides Captain Beefheart, is fast and bulbous? Cancerous tumors. That’s the best comparison.

“She’s Too Much For My Mirror,” is introduced as ‘famous,’ because at this point, had I not one foot in reality, I might actually believe that this song is well-known, well-liked, or well, anything. If April is trying to brainwash me, or hypnotize me, or I don’t know what, I swear to Beefy that I will put her in a chokehold and make her listen to an entire CD of me reciting Mad Libs over a Casio keyboard drum loop because only then will she understand the psychological torment that this album is putting on me.

hobo chang ba hobo chang ba hobo chang ba hobo chang ba hobo chang ba

“it’s the blimp, Frank! it’s the blimp!” Time is nothing. My room is nothing. There is no anything. All there is a trout, a mask, a replica, and a blimp. A mothership.

“Steal Softly thru Snow” and “Old Fart At Play” are the same sort of thing. It’s been almost eighty minutes and now I am craving to hear Beefheart talk about farts because it is the only remote pleasure I know in this torture chamber that is Trout Mask replica. When I am finally freed from this war camp, I will need to be entirely reeducated on proper human etiquette and civilization. How April manages to uphold herself as a functioning human being after listening to this, I don’t know.

The only outcome I can imagine where this album does not cause a human to become a stark raving lunatic is one in which the hypnotic spell of the goosaphone does not affect the brain. And if the brain is not affected, how anyone could enjoy or recommend this advanced instrument of psychological warfare is beyond me.

“Veteran’s Day Poppy” slowly decays into a complete wall of noise, before the guitar and drums slow down, and then, if we weren’t hypnotized yet, play the same cacophonous riff over and over again, getting more and more aggressive until the end of the record. And just like that, it’s over. I’m done. I hear birds chirping outside my window.

Whew, boy. I don’t think April is getting this back. I think this is going straight into the shredder where it belongs.

Captain Beefheart died, tragically, in 2010. I’m gonna dig him up and kill him again. One death is not enough to suffer for this crime against humanity. While I’m out, I should probably give Travis his CD back, and apologize for the mean things I said about his music. I had no idea.

If you think music is good, send me music, and I will tell you why you are wrong!

#the music jerk #music jerk #music #review #album #trout mask replica #captain beefheart #captain beefheart and his magic band #humor #satire #music review

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the-chosen-half-of-one · 7 years

Text

Really Long The Empty Grave Ramblings Lockwood and Co.:

Lockwood and Co. The empty grave spoilers, long incoherent commentary and rambling/babbling ahead, you have been warned... - - - "I'll treasure the memory on my deathbed" Oh Kipps, I laugh before I realize... What if his deathbed's in this book? "Holly got out some chocolate, began offering it around" She's like the Remus Lupin of the crew right there, 'Eat! you'll feel better.' I expected wax, but The wax figure actually coming to life actually freaked me out I imagine the skull saying "how's it going?" Like Isabella says "whatcha doing?" In Phineas and Ferb except more sarcastic. And when he says "eep, he's a big one!" ... There's Steve Irwin Lockwood's art skills have a Supernatural gif "I know your feminine wiles!" Oh my god, skull Oh my god just imagine George wearing a sequinned tasseled dress in a theatre show... Try getting that image out of your mind... When Lockwood turns to George and says how they can take anything La Belle Dame throws at them, it sounds like they're secretly gay for each other I knew Lockwood was showing Lucy his family's graves, but when he got there, there was just something in my eye, not tears, nope, nope, nope, just some dirt making my eyes misty Oh my god no, a space for Lockwood's grave, nope, nope, nope The empty grave isn't just referring to Fittes'... Let's hope it stays empty... The Lockwood's weren't even killed by ghosts, that's almost sadder I wonder if it was staged... This whole scene in the graveyard has an eerie but nice calm The skull is so just Lucy's sassy friend who likes discussing boys with her and embarrassing her: "ooh, I smell something burning... Oh wait, it's your pants! Your pants are on fire, you massive liar! You so weren't on a case!" Oh my God, the slow atrocious wink😘😜 Well, it was very overgrown. I bet it was. The figure rising from the mounds of garbage in the alleyway. "Hello, Flo" *Me chanting* George and Flo! George and Flo! No, Mr. Gale, really, I should have kicked YOU. Holly with her comeback. She's not the mom friend, she's the teacher friend. "Could you show [the papers] to me?" "I could. It would certainly be possible" The way they seem to think Barnes is trustworthy makes me worry he's not... Kipps! Kipps! Humble Kipps. My Kipps! Drinking game: take a sip every time someone says Charley Budd "[The scream] was higher and shriller than Holly's, so we knew that it was Kipps." Let's split up gang! No let's not, that's how problems start! Oh god no fortunes! Nuh uh! No you don't! Don't do this! "He will go into the dark" "He will sacrifice his life for you" I don't think so witchy! Nope! Lies! Shh! *worry* *sobbing* That moment with George telling her to really look at the ghost is grea- wait what if he's the one who dies... George is the strongest of them all! Lockwood no!!! Trapeze artist Lucy Carlyle at your service!!! "Hey, Luce..." Slap! Bearded lady has got a thing for Kipps😝 Anthony Death Wish Lockwood *sobbing* I hope Barnes is a good guy... Aw, he cares! Like a concerned grumpy ol grandpa. Lucy/Skull are totally a thing, they're an item I wonder if the silver Fittes uniform is like the feather cape or something Rupert can see the ghost... So ectoplasm can maybe do more than just keep you young and Penelope's not the only one with the secret... George???!!! Oh my god don't be dead don't be dead don't be dead Ok I know it's a bad time and my gosh poor George but internally chanting George and Flo! George and Flo! "Who's up for a spot of burglary?" Whoa an actual age for Kipps! His "advanced" age of 22 They have cloaks like the capes! I knew it! Fittes totally stole the Lockwood's research! This just makes me more sure their death wasn't an accident! Deranged seniors on stilts, I thought it was an automaton for a moment, but nope just old man Wolverine I can't take them seriously I just see elderly cosplaying as tinfoil robots with bulbous goggles and handmade weaponry I knew it! I knew it! It wasn't no accident! Oh my God, poor Lockwood! I want to punch the Orpheus Society in the face and get them in an "accident" gaah I'm so mad! Skully doesn't want to leave! Portal in Jessica's room... Means free the skull! Free the skull! *about the ectoplasm* "does she bathe in it? Does she eat it, what?" Just imagine Fittes having a nice peanut butter and ectoplasm sandwich... Hot potato pass it on pass it on pass it on hot potato pass it on, you've been ghost-touched There's so many hidden dirty jokes in this book No! Bad plot forwarding! Stop ruining my locklyle moment!!! He was giving her a necklace symbolizing undying devotion!! Come on goons, you couldn't wait 3 more seconds???!!! This is some Home Alone type stuff going on People keep liking my "who was going to die theory" I posted months ago and Kipps was just stabbed and I'm worried... Kipps says he's fine which is exactly what people say when they're not fine... Oh God, now they're trapped in the spirit world, how did I not see that coming??? And now they've got the ghost of Winkman to worry about... And they're totally dead and I almost always forget the skull's not very old. And no Gale don't take our skully!! ... She's actually physically stopping them from moving on... That's so awful... My god I think Kipps is dead or near death which is why he has so much energy in the spirit world. Flo's better than Lockwood with a rapier, she was an agent, now she's a survivor... So much character development in this book! More of the skull's spirit! Yay!... More affirmation of Kipps' not aliveness... Not yay... I wonder if ectoplasm has healing properties too... Am I getting desperate??? Tell me your name skull tell me!!! *me desperately yelling at him* I'm not crying. Who's crying? Just some dust in my eye. *begins sobbing over Kipps* They called him the body. I'm dying now. "It was only at the very end that I realized he was dying" "What do you mean dying? I bloody well hope not!" Oh my god if you heard my gasp of relief you'd think I won the lottery, that was beautiful. That was a roller coaster, that was my heart being ripped out and shoved back in. "You've got to take her by surprise, right? Well nothing would be more surprising than you stripping naked now, daubing charcoal on your cheeks-I'm not specifying which ones- and rushing out of the elevator, whooping and leaping like a mad thing..." Does this quote even need a comment? It's 'you and I' Marissa, geez, this is all I have now, correcting the grammar of fictional villains... Is Ezekiel controlling her... No that makes no sense. Does it? Oh God is his source in the cabinet?... Wait what... What's actually going on??? The body in the cabinet is Marissa?? I'm freaked... Is she a ghost? What is this? ... I'm with skull on this one "I didn't expect that." Is this possession?? Oh my god it was actually her granddaughter, that's sick... She killed her own granddaughter... Well I bet this is worse than we all thought.., and her daughter... *me chanting* free the skull! Free the skull! Dang it Lucy! Put some elbow grease into it!!! Hmm... I guess not. Lockwood no... Nope nope nope... Like Lockwood yes, perfect timing, but Lockwood no! Skull!!!!!!!!! Aw, he does care No, I knew safety was too good to be true! Really, a cluster bomb?? Really??? We were so close... The skull... The skull is the one who died... The one who sacrificed himself for her... The dead guy is the one who sacrificed his life... I don't know if I'm sad, impressed, surprised or all 3... I'm seeing the destruction in slow motion "Some of us have standards you know" oh Flo... That made me smile. Biker jacket Barnes! Phew Skully's okay for now. Unless... He finally decided to move on. Give the people the truth!!!! Lockwood in a macho leather jacket like Barnes, haha no. Lucy don't you see the Locklyle happening before your eyes??? Hope for skully! Lil green glint... Wait I just realized we never did learn his name did we? Locklyle! Locklyle! Locklyle! This book was too good! ... Now what do I do?????

#Lockwood and co.#The Empty Grave #TEG #Lockwood and company #Lockwood and co #Lucy Carlyle #Anthony Lockwood #skull in the jar #george cubbins #quill Kipps #Holly munroe #Flo bones #L&C #Lockwood & Co.#teg spoilers

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witharthurkirkland · 7 years

Text

Something Lost Something Found

Summary: Who would ever steal form the living legend himself? That no good Yuuri Katsuki, that’s who! …Or not?

Notes: This is based on a prompt I got on ao3. I am always happy to get more prompts!

Pairing: Yuuri Katsuki/Victor Nikiforov (in the Bad Apple AU, so featuring Bad Boy Yuuri and Innocent Victor Nikiforov)

Read it here or on ao3

Yuuri Katsuki, 5-time world silver medalist, walked into the change room angry with himself, angry with the world, but mostly angry with the 5-time world champion who…

…who was going through his stuff.

“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

Victor Nikiforov, said 5-tme champion and thorn in Yuuri’s side, jumped up in embarrassment, clutching something in his hand. He stuttered something incoherent for several minutes before drawing himself up to his full height, which, although impressive, wasn’t enough to intimidate anyone. Cute little puppies could do a better job of being intimidating than Victor Angel-of-Figure-Skating Nikiforov.

Yuuri suppressed a laugh.

“Just taking back what you stole from me!” Victor exclaimed.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“This!” He held out a photo he’d stolen from Yuuri’s wallet of his dog, Vicchan.

“That’s my dog,” Yuuri said.

“No, it’s not! That’s my dog!” Victor protested.

“No, it’s mine.” Yuuri crossed his arms and leaned against the wall of lockers. He could pull out his phone and show proof that he had a dog just like Victor’s, but he didn’t feel like it. Besides, that could lead to the dangerous question of why he had a dog identical to Victor’s and with Victor’s name in the first place.

But, for some reason, this was persuasive enough for Victor. He gave a sad sigh and his head dropped. “I’m sorry. They-they keep saying that you’re a terrible person without morals who will do things just to mess with people and when I saw it was gone I thought maybe… maybe you stole it to get back at me for… for always beating you…” He gave another sigh as Yuuri suppressed the urge to say something nasty. “I guess that means he took it. I hoped it wasn’t him. I… I’d rather it was you, to be honest.” He raised his head and gave Yuuri a sad smile, handing the photo back to him.

“Who the hell are you going on about?”

“I have a fan,” Victor began, “well, a lot, actually, but there is this one fan who won’t leave me alone. He keeps following me around and asking me to go out with him.”

“And you won’t go out with him?” Hell, I’d break the guy’s arm if he tried something like that with me, but don’t you just do anything people tell you?

“Why should I?” Victor exclaimed and Yuuri found himself respecting the man, even if only a little bit. “I…” He blushed deeply and turned away. “I… I like someone else.”

Yuuri shrugged. Obviously this someone else, if they actually existed, was someone who Victor hadn’t confessed their feelings to. “Then why don’t you tell this guy to screw off?” He said dismissively. “Or,” he imagined how Victor would phrase it, “or “my good sir, why don’t you please get lost?” Something like that, anyway.”

“I tried. I told him I’m not interested. I asked him to go away…” Victor lowered his eyes and fidgeted.

“Then tell him you have a boyfriend.” Surely even you can tell a little white lie!

“I can’t lie about that!” Victor exclaimed. “I’m Victor Nikiforov! Everyone follows my life on every single social media network available!”

“Of course they do. How could I possibly forget?” Yuuri rolled his eyes.

It was a stupid idea, but Yuuri had gone beyond caring what others would think or say a long time ago. It was probably also the least original idea in the world.

“I’ll deal with him. Come with me,” he ordered and headed out of the change room.

Victor rushed after him. “What-what will you do?”

“Tell him to back off.”

“But it won’t work! I already tried that.” And then Victor stepped in front of him. “I-I won’t let you hurt him or… or threaten to hurt him!”

Yeah, as if you can actually prevent me from doing that. I can break most of the bones in your body, if I wanted to. “Who said anything about hurting anyone?”

“I know about you,” Victor stammered out. “Bad Yuuri, they all call you. Y-you’re no good and you…”

Yuuri watched with mild amusement as the most innocent man he’d ever met tried to tell him off, acting as if he’d put “kick me” signs on people’s backs and left thumbtacks on the teacher’s chair.

Oh, I won’t deny what you’re saying, but you have no idea how bad I really am. And because I’m a real bastard I will do something extremely nasty. “You done yet, teach?”

“Yuuri! Promise me you won’t hurt him!”

“Alright, alright, and I’ll go to church on Sundays and all that crap.” He saw the confused look on Victor’s face and sighed. “I promise I won’t hurt him. Now take me to him.”

He let Victor lead the way out to where all the press was and the screaming fans were in a big group, chanting something stupid as usual.

“That’s him,” Victor said quietly.

Exhibit A, as Yuuri would’ve called him, if he’d been a cop, was your standard disgusting I-wish-I’d-never-met-fans-like-you kind of fan. He made Yuuri’s screaming fans who threw their underwear to him look like a dream come true. It was impossible to like a fan like him even if he had a great personality. He was gross and creepy and probably had every single merchandise with Victor on it ever made.

Yuuri let his face twist in disgust as he headed straight for him. “Hey, you! Yeah, you ugly! Back away from my boyfriend!”

“Y-your boyfriend?” the fan repeated, stepping back. “Who on Earth are you talking about?” He looked around, as if trying to find someone with a giant “Yuuri’s boyfriend” sign in their hands.

“Victor Nikiforov! Ever heard of him?” Which was a stupid question in any other circumstances: the man had a shirt with Victor’s picture on it, as well as his name in case he ever forgot who to cheer for in a competition.

“What?” the fan exclaimed in something approaching a squeal. “As if Victor Nikiforov would ever go out with you!”

Right back at you, moron. “Well, he is!” Yuuri insisted. He turned to look at the living legend. “Isn’t that right, babe?” You deny this, I swear to god, I’m walking straight out of here and you can deal with Sleazy on your own.

“Yes!” Victor exclaimed, blushing. “Yes, he is!” It sounded a little too desperate to be convincing, but that didn’t matter.

“See?” Yuuri said, eyeing Victor out of the corner of his eye, waiting for him to apologize for lying.

“I don’t believe you!” the fan insisted, spluttering. God, the man didn’t so much say his words as spray them!

“Oh, you want proof, do you?” Yuuri demanded acidly. The fan was starting to really get on his nerves. He debated beating him up anyway. “You don’t believe my word, fine I get that, but not even goody-two-shoes over here? The man couldn’t lie, if his life depended on it!” Actually, Yuuri was a little surprised Victor had gone along with his little deception. Maybe he was very desperate, more desperate to get rid of Sleazy than Yuuri had initially thought. “I suppose you want me to tell you all about the sex we had last night. How we kept half the floor awake with our screams? Or how Victor kept begging for more? Is that what you want to hear?” He was inventing as he went, but that didn’t matter. He was good at inventing on the fly.

“A-as if Victor would have sex with you!” Sleazy shouted back.

Yuuri was almost insulted. Almost.

They looked at Victor and Yuuri waited for the inevitable denial. Here was the living legend’s reputation as an innocent angel at stake. What would he do next?

“I-it’s true!” Victor insisted. “He did! And he’s really good! That’s why I kept begging for more!” His face was so red it was almost purple.

“This is a trick!” Sleazy said, showing that, against all other available evidence, he had a functioning brain. “Isn’t it? You’re just pretending!”

Yuuri was really getting into his stride now. “Oh you want me to pull all of the used condoms out of my garbage can? Or, maybe, we should go and find the cleaning staff that was in my room this morning and ask them if they were traumatized by what they found?” Yuuri’s imagination was starting to run out on him. If the fan had asked him what the cleaning staff could’ve possibly found, he would’ve been forced to admit that he had absolutely no idea. “All just to prove it to you? You want to hear all the gory details? Well, screw you and all the people like you! You’re just a nasty, pathetic little man who knows he can’t get it on with anyone and picks a weak target to terrorize instead. We don’t owe you anything! You got that? Absolutely nothing and it doesn’t matter if we have someone or not!”

Yuuri paused, because breathing had to happen eventually. He took in the glow in Victor’s eyes and tried to keep back from snapping. Don’t look at me like that! You should be the one saying this, not me! Why do I have to stand up for you? Why can’t you –

His brain ground to a halt as Victor leaned forward, put his hands carefully on his shoulders and kissed him on the cheek.

He pulled away almost as soon as his lips touched Yuuri’s face. “S-sorry, I… uh…”

“If you’re going to kiss me, do it properly.” Now what will you do?

Victor’s response was to do just that: he pressed his lips against Yuuri’s with all the enthusiasm of someone who’d heard that kissing was a thing people did, but had no idea how it worked. He managed to hit Yuuri’s nose with his own too.

Yuuri pulled away to get into a better starting position and lunged at the living legend, pulling him close with his arms.

And how long will you keep this up for?

“Oh my god! I don’t believe it! Everyone! Victor Nikiforov is dating Yuuri Katsuki!” the fan screamed and ran off.

Yuuri pulled away when it became obvious that Victor forgot how to do that. “Well?” he raised an eyebrow. “Now what?”

“Will you go out with me?” Victor asked.

“Might as well keep up pretences, huh?”

“No!” Victor protested. Yuuri released him, but Victor caught him by the arms. “I really want to go out with you! …Um… if you want to.” He lowered his eyes. “They keep telling me that you’re no good, but I can’t help it. I-if you want, we can just go out for a little while and… um… maybe you’ll like being with me. I know you must hate me…”

Yuuri watched Victor flail and avoid the main words, feeling his eyebrows rise higher on his forehead.

“Wait!” he interrupted. “Hold on. What are you saying?”

“I like you, Yuuri,” Victor admitted, blushing. “I’ve liked you for a while now…”

“Oh, so not for all of the last ten minutes?” Yuuri asked, only half-joking.

“What? N-no…”

“And here I thought you were just really turned on by my description of the sex we supposedly had last night.”

Victor blushed deeper. “I… uh… We can do that too, if-if you want.”

Yuuri burst out laughing. “What? Bad Yuuri go out with pure and innocent Victor? And then strip him of his innocence? Really?”

“I’m sorry… you probably hate me…”

Yuuri swung out and gave Victor a smack on his backside. “Hate? No, I don’t hate you. If anything, I find you annoying. As in: it’s annoying how perfect you are, how you keep beating me in every competition, how you actually are amazing at skating and it’s not just biased judging that gets you your gold medals.” Victor stared up into Yuuri’s face in surprise. “It’s annoying how, despite the fact that you’re a goody-two-shoes, which should disgust me, being against everything I believe in, I still can’t hate you.” He reached out and pinched Victor’s cheek. “It’s annoying that you’re so damn beautiful. No one has the right to be that beautiful.”

Victor put a hand over his cheek where Yuuri had pinched him.

“And I want to go out with you,” Yuuri said, “but…”

“But?”

“Only if you give me another kiss.”

Victor leaned forward, but Yuuri put a hand over his mouth, “Oh, and I pinched this from Sleazy’s pocket.” He held up the photo of Victor’s dog. “Do I deserve a kiss from the great god of figure skating himself now?”

Victor took Yuuri’s face in his hands. “Yes.”

The press chose that moment to stop milling about uselessly on the side somewhere and circle the living legend and the runner up as their kiss really got going. Cameras were primed and aimed at the two skaters to document this historic event as well as any deep and meaningful words that would be said afterwards.

Yuuri, knowing full well the kind of crap newspapers loved writing about, waited until he got enough before pulling away and saying, “Well, babe? My room or yours this time?”

“I-I don’t know,” Victor admitted, his hands on his head, looking dizzy.

Yuuri laughed. “You might want to take your skates off first, though.”

And he knew that regardless of what the press wrote about them the near future was going to be full of innocent sappy dates. And probably ice cream.

He saw another skater coming down the hall towards them and tried to remember his name. Wasn’t he friends with Victor?

“Kiss me again,” Victor said, turning around to face him.

“What’s this I hear about you two going out?” the skater asked.

And then hell arrived in the shape of Victor’s coach. He barged past everyone, elbowing people out of his way until he was right in front of Yuuri. “You! Stay away from my pupil! You got that?”

“No, Yakov!” Victor stepped between them. “Yuuri is my boyfriend and I won’t let you hurt him!”

Everyone in the hallway suppressed the urge to burst out laughing. It was obvious from the expressions on their faces how much they wanted to laugh at the living legend at that moment.

“Really, Vitya? Why are you encouraging these silly rumours?”

“They’re not rumours! It’s true!” Victor protested.

Yuuri put an arm around him. “You got a problem with that, old man?”

Yakov had the look of someone who just discovered that the hurricane that he’d been hearing about was about to come and tear his own house apart. “Absolutely not!”

“Then I’m retiring from figure skating!” Victor exclaimed.

Everyone went absolutely silent. The words echoed down the hall.

“I’m retiring,” Victor repeated in a quieter tone of voice. “Let’s go, Yuuri.” He caught Yuuri’s hand in his own and smiled. “I can be your coach, if you want.”

They went inside the change room, still followed by the stunned crowd. Under several pairs of watchful eyes Yuuri lowered himself onto his knees in front of Victor and removed his skates. It wasn’t comfortable, because he was still in skates himself, but in that moment it didn’t matter: he’d just snatched the living legend away from the whole world and he was going to flaunt the fact as much as he could.

“Yuuri…” Victor whispered, blushing.

“You can’t decide to retire just like that!” Yakov burst out, apparently remembering how to speak.

Victor ignored him, staring into Yuuri’s face. “I’m all yours, Yuuri,” he said with a big smile, taking Yuuri’s head in both hands.

Much later there was the backlash from the press. There were nasty rumours going around about Yuuri and his influence over Victor. People said it was blackmail, or that Yuuri had somehow bullied Victor into going out with him. Someone brought up abuse.

No one knew that that evening they sat outside on a bench, their arms around each other.

“I like the dark,” Victor whispered. “It’s so mysterious…” He looked into Yuuri’s face.

“You’re not really going to retire?” Yuuri asked.

“Of course not!” Victor said. He pulled the photo out of his pocket. “Do you really have a dog just like mine?”

“Yep.”

“What’s his name?”

“Victor.”

“Oh.” There was a pause. “You didn’t…?”

“No,” Yuuri lied. “There was a boy named Victor I was in love with when I was younger. He had long blond hair and he was really good at figure skating.” Crap!

Victor chuckled. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Yeah, whatever.” But you’re going to be smug about this, aren’t you?

“My dog’s name is Yuuri,” Victor said.

“Yeah, I always wondered about that…” Yuuri (not the dog Yuuri, but the skater Yuuri) admitted.

“There was this boy I was in love with when I was younger,” Victor went on. “He had short black hair and he was very good at figure skating.”

They stared at each other in silence for several seconds as the meaning of what they’d said to each other sunk in.

“Seriously?” Yuuri asked.

“Yep!” Victor beamed.

“It’s nice to know that I’m not the only one who acted like a moron all these years.”

Victor laughed and buried his face in Yuuri’s neck, reaching out for Yuuri’s hands. “Yuuri?” he whispered after a while.

“Hmmm?” God! That feels really good!

“H-have you gone out with anyone before?”

“Nope.” And that was the absolute truth. He’d been too busy killing people to remember that apart from hate there were other emotions available (well, with Victor being the exception, as it turned out).

“S-so… um…” He paused and pulled his face away to look into Yuuri’s eyes. “D-do you know how to… um…?”

Yuuri laughed. “Not a clue.” He pinched Victor’s face again, laughing at his expression. “I guess we’ll have to figure it out. We can experiment and see what works and then write a paper into the medical journal of your choice.”

“Um…” there was that puzzled embarrassment again.

“I was kidding. You can worry about it, if you want, lose sleep and all that, but it doesn’t really matter. Not yet, anyway.” He released Victor and reclined against the back of the bench. “Besides, that’s what the Internet is for.”

How had they moved so fast? And with Victor Nikiforov of all people!

The world sure was full of odd surprises. He felt Victor rest his head against his shoulder and closed his eyes.

And there were probably more surprises in the future…

#Bad Apple #Bad Apple prompts #yuri on ice #fanfiction #AU #Victor Nikiforov #Yuri Katsuki #Yakov Feltsman #well a little bit

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primadonnatartuffe · 7 years

Text

RYAN: -tonight is the night ryan would fall off the wagon after spending way too long in a bar singing, fending off offers to buy her drinks as well as her own impulses. but this is what happens when you put yourself in these kinds of locations. it was only a matter of time.-

RYAN: -pain pills are easy enough to come by, and even easier to choke down when you're drunk. a wild evening results in ryan making her usual commute back home, late at night, on her own... making her an easy target for a mugging.-

RYAN: -things get a little hazy after that point. but she remembers seeing jack arrive on the scene before blacking out.-

RYAN: -... and then she woke up, back at the bar where it all began. she snorts awake from a puddle of drool with the bar tender tapping her head and telling her they're closing. she had a half finished drink which apparently made her both sleepy and guilty enough to pass out and have some kind of shitty nightmare. or... something. regardless, it's time to make the trek home, but her mind is still buzzing.-

RYAN: -she's been having an awful lot of realistic dreams lately. way more than she has her entire life. jack seems to play a role in a considerable number of them, but she finds it unsettling in this case. this isn't her idealizing him rescuing her. it's more like... a very plausible thing if he ever saw her getting into trouble in one of his visions. and the idea of that makes her feel incredibly guilty.-

RYAN: -she snaps out of her thoughts long enough to notice she's coming upon the alley from her dream. it would be wise to avoid it, but she wants to prove to herself it was just a dream... it would all be alright, like every other evening. and besides, she'd be on her toes anyway. she can fend for herself. still, her heart races as she turns down that street.-

JACK: -It's a feeling that creeps up his spine and settles with a heavy weight in his mind. Nagging and insistent, Jack knows no rest until he's forced to emerge from his apartment and pace the Skaian streets. He knows this feeling by now, like tuning into a radio station full of scenarios that chill his blood in a terribly familiar way.-

JACK: -He can practically taste the dread in his mouth. His hands feel for a pack tucked into the pocket of his windbreaker until he's fishing out the cig he's searching for. Before too long, Jack has it tucked between his teeth. The tobacco burning in a (failed) hope of stowing off the metallic tang on his tongue.-

JACK: -While his feet carry him down the turns of concrete and crosswalks, images begin to press to the blanket of sightlessness that were his eyes. Taking him an hour, half an hour, moments into the future. Stringlets of fate belonging to complete strangers, they paint Jack's surroundings to perfect clarity. He can See the darkened street where Ryan turns. Her steps hobbled and uncertain, the very opposite of sober.-

JACK: -He also Sees when the three figures depart from the bar, having watched Ryan the whole time she'd spent drinking and then finally leaving on her own. A few seconds of context and clairvoyant observation left Jack knowing their intention. They were faceless, strangers in his visions, except for Ryan. Her face he would recognize anywhere and he realizes... He doesn't have much time to revel in the picturesque details he'd been missing out on.-

JACK: -And so Jack takes a short cut, cutting straight through an alley where he might intercept Ryan on the other side. No need for conflict if he can avoid it. His hand shoots out to catch her at the elbow.- (Ryan.)

RYAN: -as alert as she tries to be, naturally she's glancing around nervously in all directions except the one jack suddenly emerges from. she feels his hand on her, stirring up a yelp and a startled jump.- JESUS FUCK.

RYAN: -her heart beats right out of her chest and it only starts to settle when she recognizes the dimly lit figure beside her.- (jack???)

RYAN: (what are you doing here?) -she doesn't sound entirely clueless, but she asks it all the same.-

JACK: -He can sense the group's balk in the distance as they see his interception of Ryan. But it'll only be a moment, just long enough for Jack to take her by the hand and zip further into the alley.- (No time.)

JACK: -Navigates with surprising finesse for a blind guy. Managing to avoid crates, broken bottles, garbage cans, anything that will cut it close to an encounter with their would-be pursuers. Within a few minutes, Jack is pulling Ryan in... only to duck with her into the archway of a backway door. The locked from the outside kind, probably belonging to the grounded restaurant kitchen beyond. His visions told him as much.-

JACK: -He keeps a hand to her, hushing her while he listened and searched the immediate future. They were certainly out of sight now...-

RYAN: -alright, so much for her calming down. she sputters one last incoherent protest before the pair of them bob and weave through the alley's obstacles. this is all too fucking Real, she thinks, and it certainly doesn't quell her paranoid fears that what she saw was, in some way, her fate.-

RYAN: -they linger in the archway, but the pause does nothing to quiet her racing thoughts or the unpleasant churn of anxiety in her stomach. she looks to jack, leaning into him a little to try to relax and trust that whatever is going on, he's got it under control better than she does. because what the fuck???-

RYAN: -exhales after a moment and turns towards him to hiss a whisper.- (we got time now?)

JACK: -As the prospect of danger fades, so does his pseudo-ability to see. Everything takes to the comfort of pitch black and once again, Jack is left alone with the hush of Ryan's voice in his ear. The smell of booze is on her breath, the same way the cigarette smell must be clinging to his own clothes.-

JACK: -his hand releases her and finds its way to her shoulder, squeezing at her in a way he hopes is reassuring.- Yes.

JACK: We'll give it another minute or two. -talks as if they're avoiding something like a sudden bout of rain instead of... what just could have been.-

RYAN: alright. -she fidgets, but manages to collect herself as quiet returns between them. there are things she'd like to say that she isn't sure how.-

RYAN: ... jack? i uh...

RYAN: -sighs- there were guys following me. right?

JACK: -There's no point in lying... but he doesn't like the tension in her voice either. Despite everything, he would still prefer not to take it as what it could have been but rather what it is now. Ryan, safe because of his own intervention. He would count his lucky stars if he could.-

JACK: There were.

JACK: But safe to say, they're gone now. -blinks and kind of registers their proximity of one another. Crossing his arms, Jack turns to lean back against the door instead, lining her shoulder up by his own.- Lucky break.

RYAN: ... i knew about them.

RYAN: but i didnt think it would actually happen.

RYAN: i mean... fuck. -runs a hand through her hair.- how do i put this?

RYAN: -she turns her head to look at him again, confused and scared, but if anyone would understand, it had to be him... right?- i keep having these dreams. theyre always about me... things that happen to me. and they feel so real. but they never... theyve never happened.

RYAN: i saw those guys coming after me. but even in that dream it was different.

RYAN: ... i dunno. maybe its just a coincidence. im basically a sitting duck walking out here on my own.

JACK: Not always, you know. Just this one time. -gently nudges her with an elbow. He can't see how confused and fearful her expression is, but he can certainly hear it in her words. Jack opts to keep a cool head.- When did you have this dream.

RYAN: -scoffs and nudges him back.- just earlier today.

RYAN: at the bar.

RYAN: ... after i drank a little.

RYAN: i guess i fell asleep.

JACK: -falls quiet and thoughtful at that, focusing on the circumstance. It was unique to say the least and one he couldn't help but identify with.- Is this a recent thing? You say dreams in the plural sense of the word.

RYAN: -nods slowly- yeah. for the past... month or so?

RYAN: theyre usually about... shit like this.

RYAN: me making poor decisions or getting into trouble or...

RYAN: uhh... -glances off, flustered when she remembers the bulk of the things she dreams about. whoops.- mostly just that.

JACK: -strokes a thumb at his chin, nodding. Ohhh if he knew what she was thinking.- It's interesting.

JACK: But something you can't expect to know the ins and outs of right away.

JACK: I would suggest you take it with a grain of salt. Maybe... -drops the cane from his sylladex, weighing it in one hand for a moment.- Try not to tempt fate so often.

JACK: The dreams are there for a reason.

RYAN: mrgg. well that much is obvious to me. -rubs at her head, feeling annoyed with herself when she reflects back on all these potential disasters she's gotten herself into. but of course, not everything she dreams about is regrettable.-

RYAN: sometimes thats easier said than done.

RYAN: but hey. im trying to be wiser.

RYAN: -glances down at the ground, then loops her arm with his.- youre walking home with me of course.

JACK: I can't see an instance where I don't. -ba dum tshh. He's glad to take her arm in his and takes the lead out of the alley way. Truly homefree.- I don't suppose you mean my home. Or yours.

RYAN: -HOME IS WHEREVER I'M WITH YOOOOUUU.-

RYAN: well... technically were closer to my place from here but.

RYAN: i think id rather crash with you. if thats alright.

JACK: I won't oppose you... -when it comes time for them to take that street turn, Jack leads them on.- But on a more serious note.

JACK: I'm also going to suggest you stay away from the kareoke bars a while.

JACK: It's... not an easy thing. Relapsing. -squeezes at her wrist a little. As if reminding.-

RYAN: yeah... -as he squeezes her wrist, she finds herself drifting closer to him, brushing elbows.-

RYAN: guess thatd count as making wiser decisions.

RYAN: -she quiets, her train of thought bringing her away from him again, though she keeps her hand on his arm.- im... sorry jack.

JACK: -a smile quirks on his face as their elbows brush.- No need to be.

JACK: I was here this time. I'd say if anything, this night turned out well. It's what's real and it's what matters.

RYAN: -that answer surprises her a little, but it's a relief.- i guess so...

RYAN: i just dont wanna worry you. that you gotta hunt me down like that.

RYAN: im... trying.

JACK: If anyone knows how hard you're trying, it's me. -says, squeezing at her knuckles now.- And I won't worry either.

JACK: I can put off pre-mature grays for only so long.

RYAN: -that makes her smile and she returns to leaning against him, taking his hand up in hers just to squeeze back.- fair.

RYAN: i can rest assured knowing youre gonna look good gray too. -snickers-

JACK: You know for a fact? -sounds bemused-

JACK: I don't suppose your dreams tell you as much.

RYAN: i mean its hard to go wrong.

RYAN: youre somehow pulling off this disheveled gives no fucks look after all. -ruffles his hair with her free hand.-

JACK: Thank you. -smiles, glad for the hair mussings.-

JACK: The secret is forgetting that combs exist from time to time. At least twice a week.

RYAN: oh yeah. at the very least. id be surprised if you even own one anymore. -the closer they get to jack's place, the more her heart rate quickens. she worries if this is real, and if she's going to do something she shouldn't again. it's only a matter of time before that becomes a reality too, isn't it? she tries to tell herself it's probably in her head, but it doesn't stop the anxiety.-

RYAN: ... by the way thanks for letting me stay with you so often. i know neither of you would wanna turn me away but you know. i appreciate being welcome all the time. -shrugs a little.-

JACK: -It's just like Ryan to shrug off an honest sentiment. So the blind guy leads the buzzed girl up the stairs and it goes about as well as one expects. He nods, holding her hand and feeling up the stair rails with the free hand.-

JACK: If it was your house, you would be doing the same for me. -touches the first door but it's obviously not their house. He guides Ryan all the way to the third. He begins fiddling with his keys to get the door unlocked.- I personally enjoy having space to my own.

JACK: No moms or dads staying up late to make sure I'm home in one piece. I appreciate their concern but nine times out of ten, I'm perfectly fine. -rambles the whole way into the house. Predictably, Audrey the pitbull greets them with a sniff and a boop of her nose at their hands. Oh yeah. Jack should probably release that now.-

RYAN: -NEVER. but it's alright, her hands are now occupied giving this pup pets.- tell me about it...

RYAN: one of these days ill have my own place again. or i can room with someone i guess. since russet suggested it i kinda feel compelled to resist it with all my being.

RYAN: plus i just... ya know. dont wanna burden anybody until im in a better place.

RYAN: ... but then again i guess im kinda doing that already without necessarily burdening anybody so hey.

RYAN: not that im suggesting i room with yall but uh yeah thats just where my train of thought took me.

RYAN: ... -wanders inside, but she's lingering a little awkwardly like she isn't sure if she wants to sit or not.-

JACK: All the couch needs is a plaque with your name on it. -He doesn't seem to mind that she lingers, shuffling off for his kitchen like he is. After a few minutes and from the smell of it, Jack is making himself a mug of hot chocolate.- I know Sage would like the prospect of extended sleepovers.

RYAN: -belatedly decides to hover, joining him in the kitchen.- heh. without a doubt.

RYAN: hey... make me one. -prods at him.-

JACK: -lets her have this drink he's already done preparing.- Fine. -gets to making himself another. Feeling around a cabinet for another mug.-

JACK: I think you should consider a roommate though. It's a system that works wonders on Sage and I. Hell.

JACK: It's best if you can find someone you can fuss at the same way they fuss at you. That way you don't feel like it's a burdening dynamic. It's how it works for us.

RYAN: -scoffs...- oh wait youre serious.

RYAN: i dunno if i know anyone that i can fuss at. pretty much everyone i know has their shit together waaay more than i do. -sips the chocolate as she leans against a counter and thinks about this.-

JACK: It helps not to make those assumptions. -stirs the powder into the hot water with a spoon.- But again.

JACK: Just an idea.

RYAN: :P

RYAN: its something to consider i guess. maybe ill get lucky. or however that works.

JACK: You could ask your dreams about it. -licks the spoon, tapping it at his mouth in contemplation.- Another hypothetical thought.

RYAN: yeah right. maybe if i want some insight on the worst candidates for the position since so far theyve only been good for warning me not to be a complete dunderfuck.

RYAN: or to be like prepared.

RYAN: for things.

RYAN: that some people apparently arent prepared for.

RYAN: since theyre not all bad dreams so. i dunno maybe youre onto something. -STOP WHILE YOU STILL CAN RYAN. she squints at her mug and takes a generous gulp.-

JACK: So if they're not bad, they must be good. -sips his own mug, elbow leaned back against the counter.- I say you give it a try.

RYAN: guess it cant hurt!

RYAN: -she's feeling flustered all over again now that they're back to this subject. she wonders if it's something she should address, or if that would be an even worse decision. maybe she can be subtle about it.-

RYAN: heeeeeeey. actually while were still talking about my whacky dream shenanigans...

RYAN: so some of them arent exactly bad... sure... maybe they are actually really good!

RYAN: but what if they arent? i mean if the running theme of every other dream is something i shouldnt do then maybe these good dreams could be categorized as the same thing.

RYAN: and even if they ARENT then what DO they mean? since as you said they mean SOMETHING...

JACK: -fishes out a marshmallow before answering.- Tough question but it's a good one to ask.

JACK: From my perspective, the visions manifest as... often worst-case scenarios. What would happen if I don't do "x". But your dreams? You can't say they're the same thing.

JACK: Maybe it's not inherently about good or bad but rather your decisions. And what comes out of them. That make sense?

RYAN: -turns the mug in her hand.- when you put it like that... yeah. it does. -baccia said more or less the same thing, but it still raises some questions.-

RYAN: but i guess in this case im not sure... what would come out of it... if i did wind up doing those things. and thats why im wary of it.

RYAN: cuz it could be great. or it could totally set u-- uhh. me... up for disaster and its...

RYAN: -glances down at the hot chocolate.- its something i really wouldnt wanna fuck up.

JACK: Hmmm. Well.

JACK: Great or not, I guess... just like with most major, uncertain decisions.

JACK: You would have to make a gamble on whether it's worth going through with or not. Not that I'm the best candidate to offer such advice. -snorts a little into his drink.- But the possibilities still stand.

RYAN: -quiets, shuffling her feet and letting all this rattle around in her head. then she shuffles her feet over to him, standing shoulder to shoulder again.-

RYAN: ...

RYAN: theyre sex dreams.

RYAN: a metric fuck ton of sex dreams.

RYAN: aboutttttt... yooouuu?

JACK: -He can physically hear the record scratch in his head as he takes a long hard gulp of hot chocolate. Scalding his mouth and leaving him to stifle the wheeze. He deserved this.- Mgh. Ghhhhf.

JACK: -SWALLOWS.- Metric fuck ton.

JACK: Of... chronologically probable sex dreams. -Has to repeat it to make sure he's hearing this right.-

RYAN: yeeeeeup.

RYAN: im only kind of exaggerating. hahaha.

RYAN: oh god.

RYAN: -hello darkness my old friend...-

JACK: -stands there with his mug like mmmmmmmygod.- "Kind of". -clears his throat and shakes his head.-

JACK: How often do they occur before you have to qualify something as "a metric fuck ton"? -He's almost afraid to ask but well. Here he is. Staring into the void.-

RYAN: like... i dunno... about as often as i stay over???

RYAN: i say... after deciding to stay over.

RYAN: fuck.

JACK: Well. That...

JACK: ... -ends up holding his chin just to grasp the gravity of all that she's implying.-

JACK: Certainly... puts things into perspective.

RYAN: lmaoooo.

RYAN: yeah i... okay im not just bringing this up so we can be collectively ashamed of ourselves.

RYAN: i figure... if all these dreams are about my decisions and shit then im DECIDING to talk about it instead of jumping your bones. or waiting for you to jump my bones. or for both of us to jump at each other at the same time.

RYAN: ... -puts her head in her hand and SIGHS- not that those details matter... or i guess maybe they do if these are things that actually couldve happened.

RYAN: cuz that means... it isnt just me...?

JACK: -he gnaws absently on his thumb as she rambles. Picturing all the times he shuffled around, debating. Knowing he wasn't going to go through with it but wanting to. Fantasizing?? Even just remembering was bringing some sweat to his forehead.- ...Christ.

JACK: It's... a pickle. To say the least. -chews his thumb.- Sorry.

JACK: I'm probably not much help with this. -wheezes gently.-

RYAN: -frowns- you could be though?

RYAN: like clearly theres an elephant in the room we should be addressing.

RYAN: or!! its something i want to address.

RYAN: because it sucks just sitting on how im feeling. and i know i suck at talking about it. but i wanna try to be better at that too.

RYAN: especially... especially with you.

JACK: -takes a deep breath... ultimately nodding. He runs his hand through his hair.- Yeah.

JACK: You're right. It's just...

JACK: God. -brings a hand and runs it down his face.- It's fucking insane. -says muffled.-

JACK: Sometimes... fantasies oughta stay fantasies, huh? -drops his hands back down to his sides.- Sheesh.

RYAN: ... maybe.

RYAN: but why is it... on our minds in the first place? and so frequently???

RYAN: its not... mmrg.

RYAN: its not just a fantasy for me. its not just about fucking around. okay?

JACK: -he sobers up a little, unsure of himself but dammit. Wanting to give talking it through a try.- I know. That's not what I meant.

JACK: I just...

JACK: Thought it was a safe thing.

JACK: Letting myself be indecisive.

JACK: You know it never works out if we think too much so... often times it's just about the feelings. -He doesn't know what he's saying but whatever it is, Jack is sure it was making him sound like a thoughtless dick. The shame is starting to catch up now that he thinks about it.-

RYAN: -winces and turns away from him, setting the mug down on the counter to use the mindless action as an excuse to process this. it's definitely a little frustrating, but even moreso when she doesn't really understand.- what do you mean... a safe thing?

JACK: -rubs his head in frustration and sighs.- Do you ever see me turning away? In these visions?

JACK: Dreams. Sorry.

RYAN: ... no. i dont.

JACK: -drums his fingers a little bit.- Well, logically speaking.

JACK: It's not just your own desires that are inducing the decisions behind the dreams. And you're not selfish or crazy for having them.

RYAN: -folds her arms, hugging herself while her stomach does all sorts of acrobatic stunts.- okay so... then what???

RYAN: thats what i wanna know.

RYAN: if youre feeling the same way i am... i just want to figure out what i should do about it.

RYAN: what... we should do about it.

JACK: I don't... have that answer. I don't See what happens if we go through with.... these hypothetical scenarios.

JACK: It's not disastrous? You've never been disastrous. -makes a vague gesture. It seems kind of wistful.- You've always been...

JACK: Just you. A person.

JACK: Reaching for the good as much as anyone else.

RYAN: -looks at him again, expression softening.- ... well. since neither of us knows where things would go...

RYAN: maybe a better question is... what do we want to do about it?

JACK: -He has to consider everything in front of him now. It was like living through a dose of ice cold deja vu. Ryan, their relationship, the past, the future... In these few moments, Jack is quiet. The conflict warring on his face, despite being unable to see her. If only he had the reassurance of her expression, then he'd be able to make sense of all the blank spaces.-

JACK: You're always so close. -begins carefully, his blind eyes worried.- It seems... inevitable. No matter what we do. How hard we try.

RYAN: -swallows dryly as she turns to face him and reaches to touch his arm, gentle and reassuring in the absence of the look on her face.- are you scared?

JACK: -as she touches him, he releases the breath he didnt know he was holding.- Always.

JACK: You know me.

RYAN: -her hand travels up along his shoulder till she's coiling her arms around him, pulling him into a hug.- yeah.

RYAN: me too.

RYAN: maybe we can be... scared together?

RYAN: im not trying to say that we need to have it all figured out right now...

RYAN: i just dont wanna... run away from this. i dont wanna do that kinda thing anymore jackie.

JACK: -hardly resists her embrace. In fact, he coils into it. Burying himself against her shoulder and holding her tight.- I know...

JACK: But habits are hard to put to rest. And it's hard trying to...

JACK: Tell myself that I'm ready. And that I won't catch myself in the same cycle as before. I've spent so long trying to break from it. But is it enough?

JACK: -He nuzzles her.- I have no fucking clue.

RYAN: -laughs a little, returning the nuzzles.- well fuck. im right there with you.

RYAN: im not gonna be reckless about it though and say i dont give a fuck?? cuz i do. like...

RYAN: i wanna be more aware of my own bullshit.

RYAN: but i feel like its been easier... cuz ive had help. and ive let people help. i never did before.

RYAN: -squeezes him a little tighter.- i think we can help each other too. youre already doing that for me...

JACK: -Hugs her so tight, he lifts her a little bit. The stronk hobo that he is.- Yeah...

JACK: -And with that, he turns and presses a kiss to her cheek.- I just.

JACK: Love you. Somewhere in all this fuckery of a mess. I do.

RYAN: -her cheeks warm at the contact, butterflies fluttering all around her stomach and chest, inspiring more laughter and the threat of tears.- i love you too. i never fucking stopped.

RYAN: -returns the kiss, and then once more. leaving behind lipstick stains he unfortunately won't be able to discover later, but they're there all the same.-

JACK: -It's hard being on the receiving end of Ryan kisses. It's hard and nobody understands that when you receive one, you had to receive more. And so Jack leans, bringing a hand to her hair, the back of her head. Angling her chin up so he can press a soft sweet kiss to her lips.-

RYAN: -chills run up and down her spine, an elating warmth settling over her skin when it passes. her hands clasp at his hair, interlocking with messy strands to give her a grip while she returns this kiss too, deepening it with the tilt of her head.-

JACK: -The velvety soft of her kiss was like everything Jack remembered... but in real time. No longer clouded by memory or the passing of time. It was a crystal clear, high definition of Ryan Strider brand kisses. Tinted by the taste of hot chocolate, he knew each time his lips energetically plucked the kisses from hers.-

JACK: Fuck it all... -says while humming with satisfaction, the more she carded fingers through his hair.-

RYAN: thats what i like to hear. -the shape of her lips form a wide smile against his, but that alone couldn't even express her joy. her hands move to frame his face instead for her to look him over. scruffy as he is, he's still the most handsome man she's ever laid eyes on, and it feels good to admire this without guilt.-

RYAN: hey jack... its really getting late. shouldnt we think about lying down?

JACK: Late for you maybe. The wicked know no sleep. -he smiles, exhaling with relief and the buzz of warmth in his cheeks. He fiddles with more of her downy soft hair between his fingers.- But I guess I could lie in wait for a while.

RYAN: -snickers at his jokes, nudging into his touch.- alright edward. come on. -captures his hand in hers so she can escort him to his own bedroom. she's visited it enough in her dreams to know every step like the back of her hand. when she passes through the door, she's pulling him in for more kisses, as if she had been waiting another lifetime for them, rather than only a few moments.-

JACK: -follows her kisses into well... His bedroom. He knew the direction and he was conscious of how bold she was for leading the way. The truth was really shedding some light on the situation. Holy moly.- Make yourself at home. -mutters, squeezing at her hands and stealing more precious pecks. The door is closing behind them.-

RYAN: i always do. -guides him to the bed, slowly seating herself and tugging him along with her continued insistence. side by side, she pauses to run her hands over his shoulders, studying his frame as if testing the solidity of him. the reality of him.-

RYAN: im not dreaming again am i?

JACK: I guess we'll find out tomorrow when you wake up. -for all his griping, he stifles a yawn. Relaxing under the hands that run by his shoulders. One of his own thumb comes to lightly stroke her chin. Coaxing her to relax.-

RYAN: ... yeah. alright. -she's torn between the anxiety to stay awake with him, to savor every moment of this, and getting rest to test out the theory that in the morning they'll actually wake up together. but ultimately, his touch has her lying back against the pillows and sheets, beckoning him to follow.-

JACK: -Here he comes. Rolling into bed and feeling around for a way to get comfortable. Preferably with Ryan gathered up in his arms.-

RYAN: -she helps him out, fitting herself against the shape of him, juxtaposed with her back to his front. and with his arms around her, she can finally start to relax.-

#invincibleDetective #in which I just love you

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