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kkysolo · 4 years

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Stuck on You / Chapter One

You curse him for it, sometimes. Loathe him for it - for how he’s made you, his parents, his friends feel. How he’s broken them. Reduced all of you to nothing but fickle fragments that pass through time and space with little awareness, with little recognition, of what’s happening to them. At least, that’s how you feel. But the bitterness, the fury - it doesn’t last long. It never does.

Prologue

Pairing: Ben Solo|Kylo Ren/Reader Setting: Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, dystopia, modern, gangs. Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, war, gang violence, emotional hurt/angst, codependent relationships (eventual fluff, smut, romance).

A/N: Tense change from past to present because we’re shifting into the present timeline of the story. Also, if you’ve read any of my other work, you’ll know I tend to write in second person omniscient. I love a bit of head-hopping, keeps us on our toes, lol. It won’t appear in this chapter, but bear it in mind for the future.

Chapter under the cut, and also here, on AO3.

Summary: The year is 2084.

Despite its advances, society has collapsed on itself. The world is crooked, damaged, dying. Rezoned into new territories, separating the elite from the unworthy. Civilization is crumbling at your very feet, and in the midst of it all, your best friend, Ben Solo, has been missing for three years. You desperately cling to what’s left of him, hoping that he’ll come home, praying that things will fall back into place.

And then he does. And they don’t. Because life is different when you’re a scoundrel in the midst of a class war.

Now: 2084, Spring

You’ve always hated spring.

They used to call it the season of new beginnings, and new beginnings were good. But that was before. Now, starting over is nothing more than an expected, quotidian task each time the Empire rezones the land. Which is often. Too often to ever feel at home. Too often to ever really feel as though there’s a new beginning to be had.

“It was the right thing to do, you know,” Rose smiles sympathetically in that way that she does, the kind of way that doesn’t make you feel pitied, but loved. “Hm?” “Breaking up with Jon.” “Oh,” you hadn’t actually given the situation much thought. He’d already retreated the back of your mind, an unimportant speck among an ocean of stress. “Yeah, I know.” “Because you didn’t love him.” “I know.” “Because you love Ben.” “Rose,” you hiss, your head flying around the dimly lit room. Because that’s all it is, really - a room. They’d outlawed bars (at least, in the rezoned areas) six months ago. Your shabby little makeshift basement bar - ran by Ben’s mother, nonetheless - was an illegal, yet necessary sanctuary. “Would you stop? Someone will hear.”

“Oh, stop,” she scoffs, taking a sip of highly illegal (and cherished) gin and lemonade. “As if everyone here doesn’t already know.”

“Well it doesn’t matter now, does it?” you mumble, twirling a bottle of beer between your hands. It’s a good one, not badly brewed and watered down. Leia, she gets the good stuff. How she gets it, you aren’t sure. “It’s not like he’s around.” “He’s not dead,” Rose affirms. “He can’t be.” “What makes you say that?”

Because you believe it, too, you do. He can’t be dead - couldn’t possibly be gone. Because Ben, he’s strong. He’s good and he’s kind and he’s funny and brave and men like him don’t just die unknowingly. Men like him go down in glory - of that, you’re sure.

“Because it’s Ben,” she shrugs. “He’s supposed to be running this place one day.”

You nod, still dragging your bottle across the uneven wood of the table.

“It’ll be awkward, though,” you sigh. “With Jon.” “You think so?” “I mean, yeah,” you lean back in your seat. “He’s still with the Resistance, I’m gonna have to see him all the time.” “Yeah, I mean, maybe missions will be awkward but,” she shrugs. “He’s not an idiot, surely he knows to, you know. Stay away.”

You hum in agreement, taking a swig from your bottle. Ben would like this beer, you think. It’s bitter, like he likes.

“Sweetheart,” Leia is behind you now, a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Could I ask a favour?” “Of course.” “Could you watch the place for me tonight?” She has that apologetic expression on her face she so often bears, and it pains you to think of her worrying to ask you something. “Han is home from his mission tonight, and I’d just love to see him, honey.” “Leia, of course,” you place your hand atop hers. “You deserve all the time together you can get.”

And they do. They’d separated for several months after Ben’s disappearance, neither of them able to cope with the weight of it in a manner that allowed them any semblance of intimacy, any notion of peace. But they’d rekindled as much as they could of their relationship, and despite Han’s long missions, continued to work on it.

“Thank you, honey,” she smiles softly, squeezing your hand before turning to a demanding patron. She gives so much of herself to so many people, you wonder how there’s any of her left.

When Leia finally bids you farewell, you’re already shuffling around behind the badly crafted bar, held together precariously by planks and rusted nails. You’re not sure who built it - though you expect it may have been Poe - but you’re surprised it’s still standing after only one week of use. You pull another bottle of gin from a box on the concrete floor, and you scoff at the icy feel of it. The wicked cold from the exposed ground has kept it remarkably cool. You hope you’ll be able to shut the refrigerator off, in that case. It’s far too expensive to run.

“Here,” you pour Rose another glass. She sits at the bar now, resting her chin in her palm. “Perk up a little, you’ve gotta keep me company.”

Rose sticks her tongue out playfully.

“Did you get settled in your new place?” She speaks into her glass and the sound of her voice vibrates through the liquid.

“Mhm,” You sigh, pouring a drink for yourself. It’s your second move of the year already - the Empire having pushed you out of every zone you’ve ever called home. When they come, ships and tie-fighters blackening the sky above you, you’re herded like goats to whatever new (and smaller) zone they deem suitable for nuisances such as you. For peasants such as you. “You?”

“Meh,” she shrugs. “I wish they kept me with you this time. I hate being by myself.” “Me too,” you murmur. And you do. You really do. “But it is what it is.”

You glance to your left, eyeing the stacks upon stacks of boxes that pile up against the wall. All labelled ‘bottles’, ‘glasses’, ‘coasters’ in Finn’s terrible handwriting. There’s one that sits at the bottom, labelled only ‘our stuff’. Back in the old bar - the real bar - you’d had CD players (the old kind, from decades ago - you couldn’t afford anything else). You’d had string lights and flowers and Sabacc tables. You’d decorated the walls with photos - of you, of Ben, of the resistance. Of the people who owned and worked at the only establishment for fucking miles that conceived any happiness. And it was beautiful. It was perfect.

“When’s Poe back?” Rose hums. “I think he’s coming back with Han tonight,” She takes a sip of her drink. “Why?” “I really wish he’d move those fuckin’ boxes,” you grit. “Hide them in the back or something, but I can’t stand the sight of them.”

Rose nods sympathetically.

“He will,” She turns, then, as the sound of rain pummels against the ground outside. Though it’s a basement, there’s still windows, the kind that sit more toward the ceiling, the kind that are awfully awkward to open. She squints at them, and your eyes catch how she leans closer to get a better look.

“You alright?” You lean toward her, resting your elbows against the bar. You can hear how it creaks with the pressure. “Y-yeah I just,” she drags her eyes away, bringing her attention back to you. “I just thought I saw someone outside.” “There’s lots of people outside,” you smile. “There always is.” “No, I know, but they were like…” She looks back to the window. “They were crouching, looking in.”

You sigh.

“Hopefully not an inspector for the Empire,” Rose turns back to you as you speak, and you smirk at her reassuringly. “That Armitage Hux prick has always had it out for me.”

She laughs in that airy kind of way that she does, the kind of way that makes you bubble with gratitude - because you know her. You’re fortuitous enough, privileged enough to be around such a light, such an ethereal soul. You often wonder what you ever would have done without her. You often wonder if you’d have survived it - survived this, survived the loss of him, without her.

“Maybe if you wouldn’t rile him up, he wouldn’t hate you so much.” “But it’s just so much fun to piss him off,” You grin. “He gets so flustered.”

You stay like that, laughing together, until well after midnight. You’re glad for it, the distraction. You need it, even now. Even after all this time. Being alone - with your thoughts, with the gaping hole that sits inside your chest - doesn’t get any easier. They say time heals all wounds. You wish it would. It’s only made yours worse, only further infected it with spores of him, that burst and spread the ache right down into your bones. You curse him for it, sometimes. Loathe him for it - for how he’s made you, his parents, his friends feel. How he’s broken them. Reduced all of you to nothing but fickle fragments that pass through time and space with little awareness, with little recognition, of what’s happening to them. At least, that’s how you feel. But the bitterness, the fury - it doesn’t last long. It never does.

When you trudge inside your new apartment (though new doesn’t seem very apt, perhaps crumbling would fit better), you feel him. He’s never been there, of course, but you feel him nonetheless. You feel him everywhere. In everything. And it haunts you - he haunts you. And he has no right to, because you know he’s not dead, he can’t be.

You run through your nightly routine, finally readying yourself for slumber. You hope you’ll see him there, when you close your eyes and drift from hell into harmony. You hope you’ll find him nestled in the crevices of your subconscious. Because you know he’s there. He’s always there. And when you unlock your front door, when you prop open the windows before crawling under the sheets - you hope he’ll find you here, too. Nestled under the covers, waiting for him.

And when you fall into deep sleep, into a dream - or a memory - of long ago, a dream of smiles and laughter and his honey-brown eyes, you don’t hear the door as it creaks and clicks open. You don’t hear the windows as they fall shut, the frigid breeze no longer assaulting the room. You don’t hear the footsteps, nor do you hear the breathing - panicked, rushed.

When you’re asleep, you find him. And when you’re asleep, he finds you.

#can you tell that i just REALLY fucking love rose tico #i literally would sell my soul to be her best friend lol #anyways #moving along #my writing #stuck on you #ben solo x reader #ben solo x you #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #ben solo #kylo ren

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jackrrabbit · 3 years

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Adversary /// Overhaul x f!Reader (18+)

Summary: You make a deal with the devil to save your life, but it turns out Overhaul’s not interested in your soul.

A/N: Remember when I said I was going to do a fantasy collab and then dipped for like 9 months? Hahaha…anyway…

@pleasantanathema @ present-mel @shadowworks—if it’s not too late, here’s my part for the Pleasant & Strider Fantasy AU Writing Collab from a million years ago. Go check out the masterlist and gorge yourself on these amazing pieces!!

Tags/Warnings: dubcon, demon fuckery & occult things, big heresy/sacrilege/perversion of religion, sex in a church ft. Catholic sex guilt, other than that it’s not that bad lol, inexperienced reader, mild degradation, shameless camp and demon-fucking clichés, Overhaul calls you “little girl” 👉👈

He doesn’t look like a demon.

Not that you really know what demons are supposed to look like. But…red skin, right? Fangs and claws and swirling masses of bad energy. Maybe cloven hooves for feet. Yes, that’s the Disney version—but even if you didn’t expect a cartoon personification of evil, you didn’t expect this.

He looks like a doctor, you think. Lab coat hanging open, surgery mask pushed down under his jaw, stethoscope draped over his shoulders. No, he’s a little young to really look like a doctor…an intern, you amend, shifting back in your hospital bed. He looks like he fits right in here, not a hair out of place. Except for, you know, the polished black horns curling out of the sides of his skull.

Overhaul. It was written in the book. That’s the only thing you have to call him in your head.

He’s standing in the center of the sigil you drew at the foot of your bed before midnight, surveying the room critically without meeting your gaze. He looks annoyed—that’s not a good sign, is it?—but then again, of course he’s annoyed. You’d be annoyed too if you got summoned out of your cozy hell dimension in the middle of the night. According to the book, you’re lucky he even showed up…although ‘lucky’ isn’t really how you’d describe yourself most days.

“So,” Overhaul says after a long moment of silence in which you question every choice you’ve made in your relatively short life. “You’re dying.”

You nod.

“And you don’t want to be.”

You nod again, wondering if you’re supposed to be contributing more to this conversation. It’s a bit difficult when your mouth is so dry it feels like you’ve been eating dirt, but you suppose being in the presence of an unholy servant of Satan will do that to a person.

“Fine.” He sighs, frowns, and then finally lowers his gaze onto yours—and you shiver.

Those eyes. No human has eyes like that.

“Make me an offer,” Overhaul tells you, and through his open mouth you catch a flash of sharp white teeth.

Okay. Okay. The chirping of the heart monitor speeds up (as if it weren’t obvious enough that you’re terrified) and you fold your knees up to your chest and fidget with your ring and think. He’s giving you a chance to establish parameters. You’re supposed to start with his end of the deal, the thing you want from him. That’s what it said to do in the grimoire, aka the 19th century demonology volume your creepy cousin brought back from her pagan anthropology research trip in rural France. The one you keep hidden under your bed because your mother would burn it if she knew you were reading about summoning demons.

Offer nothing to a hell creature without first telling him your price. You know the words by heart, both the winding calligraphy of the original French from the grimoire and the rushed scrawl of the English translation your cousin left for you in sheets of lined paper layered between the pages of the book for you to read. Really, this is her fault. She was the one who slipped you the book, who told you that it worked, who snuck you the ingredients for the summoning. She was the one who left a bookmark at the chapter on this particular demon, one that specializes in ‘Contrat pour Remédier au Déséquilibre des Quatre Humeurs’, which she said meant a contract to cure any illness. Even his ‘name’ is translated in her hand, practically an afterthought in the margins of the page.

‘Le Malin qui Ravage et Rebâtit’— Overhaul?

You looked up the literal meaning of this phrase on your own. It did not reassure you.

“Girl.” His voice is cold, irate. Your eyes snap back up to his and it feels like that burning gaze is laser-beaming into your skull. “Do not test me. My time is limited…as is yours.”

You swallow. “How long do I have left?”

“Less than a single human year,” he tells you without a trace of sympathy. “Seven months, twelve days, three hours. Or so. You’ll be too exhausted to leave this bed in four months, and the pain will become intolerable in six… By the end, you’ll wish—“

“Stop,” you breathe out. The heart monitor is beeping wildly and you squeeze your knees into your chest, trying to calm down your breathing. “Stop, I—I want to live.”

“Of course you do.” Overhaul’s lip curls. “How very predictable.”

Be specific, you remind yourself, doing your best to ignore the stifling disapproval from the man—the demon—in front of you. Something about him (maybe how clean-cut he looks, maybe the indisputable authority in his demeanor) makes you want to impress him. But you didn’t turn your back on your religion—you didn’t draw pagan symbols on the floor in chalk, fill silver cups with various questionable substances (including your own virgin blood), and turn the crucifix your mother hung over your bed upside-down so you could let a demon make you feel guilty for wanting to survive. “I want to be cured. I’m okay with whatever natural death I have instead when I’m older, I just don’t want to die of this illness. I want you to make me healthy.”

“Simple enough. What else?”

‘Simple’? Your heart surges with something you’ve felt very little of since your initial diagnosis—hope. “T-That’s it. Just the cure.”

Overhaul glares at you. “Humans… Every vice in the world available to you, and you limit yourselves to the basest priority of survival.”

“But you can do it? You can cure me?” you persist.

Overhaul steps forward (quiet, so quiet you wonder if he really moved) and holds a hand out to you past the foot of your bed—you hesitate, and a second later you can see the muscles in his hand flex, stretching the latex of his plastic gloves tight over his knuckles.

Just do it. You give him your hand. Carefully. Like you’re scared the contact will burn you. It doesn’t (although his skin feels warmer than yours), but after a moment his grip tightens, sliding down past your hand to circle the fragile bones of your wrist and squeeze.

“Ow?” You wince.

The demon’s eyes flicker closed for a second, lips moving silently like he’s talking to himself—and then he drops your hand unceremoniously back onto your lap. “You could be cured before the sun rises this morning. I doubt your stay in the hospital will extend past the end of the week.”

He sounds bored, voice as flat and passionless as it was earlier, but your heart is soaring. Cured. You’ve lived with this illness for so many years, you can’t remember the last time someone told you you could be cured. And getting out of the hospital that soon? You can just imagine taking down all the decorations from the walls of your room here and setting them up in your old bedroom at home. You could see friends on the weekend and not take an oxygen bag, you could get a job or—or apply to college, you could have a life—

“That is…assuming you have something to offer me in exchange for the cure.”

Your stomach drops. You’d almost forgotten about the other half of the deal.

“Don’t tell me I came all this way for nothing.” Overhaul steps back, and the orange light of the candles you set sends strange shadows over his arrogant face. The fires look brighter now, and you find yourself tracing the lines of those shining black horns. In an odd way, they look natural—so organically framing his temples that you can’t imagine him without them.

“N-No, of course not. I have some money—I mean, my mom has some, and I can get it for you…” Which is half the truth. If you know anything, it’s that your mother’s spent most of her savings on your treatment and care. You probably have more debt than you have money in the bank right now—you’d try to get rid of that, too, if you hadn’t read in the book how important it is to keep your request as simple and straightforward as possible.

…Although it’s apparently not enough. Overhaul’s eyes narrow, molten gold irises carved into slits. “Even if I had a use for human money, do you really believe your life is worth so little?”

“No—no,” you say quickly. “I just thought—in case you were interested—”

The air crackles with energy, the candle flames spark bright blood-red, and the hair on your arms stands straight up. “I am not.”

“Okay! I get it.” You wave your hands back and forth, pulling your IV line from side to side with the motion. The book was very clear about staying calm and rational while you work out the terms of the deal, but that’s easier said than done when you have a real live (live?) hell creature in front of you. You always knew this was going to be the hard part—all the stories say there’s only one thing that a demon would be interested in, and no matter how inviting the prospect of living past this illness is, you know you’d rather die than sell your immortal soul to the devil. “I’ll give you anything except my soul! And—and don’t hurt anyone I care about, or— just don’t hurt anyone, okay? Other than that, if there’s anything I can give you, I will.”

Overhaul’s lip curls, baring a thin strip of those unnaturally sharp canines. “And is your soul really so valuable?”

This throws you for a loop. Isn’t that the standard deal? A soul for a wish? That’s how it’s supposed to work—at least in this twisted version of reality where you can summon a demon to perform unholy miracles for you. But if you think about it, it doesn’t really make sense, does it? Why would your soul be valuable to him? You can’t form an argument, especially since you’re not willing to barter it away in the first place.

Your mouth is pursed open as you search for a response, but Overhaul doesn’t seem willing to wait. A gloved hand wraps its way around the railing at the side of your bed, and he leans in closer. “Little girl…what makes you think you possess anything I desire?”

Little girl. You’re not a little girl, you’re a grown woman—and yet there’s no untruth in the statement. In front of him you feel insignificant, immature, weak. You have nothing real to offer, and something tells you that you’re not going to get rid of the demon you summoned without a sacrifice you’re not willing to make.

You twist your ring around your finger—the nervous habit you haven’t bothered to break because you’ve always had more important things to worry about—and the glint of silver in the candlelight must catch Overhaul’s eye because before you even notice him moving, your delicate hand is trapped in his larger one to give him a better view of the tiny piece of jewelry. “What is this?”

“It’s—um, a ring. A purity ring.” Has he never seen one before? Well…actually, that makes sense.

Overhaul turns your hand over in his without touching the band of silver. He’s looking at it closely, inspecting the lovingly engraved cross in the design and the inscription on the other side. “Matthew 5:8,” he reads out.

“…Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God,” you recite cautiously. It feels wrong to speak the words in front of him, but somehow you can’t help yourself.

Overhaul’s hand doesn’t leave yours. “This ring is important to you.”

“It’s a symbol of a—a promise I made to God. To save myself for my future husband.”

“To ‘save yourself’? To save what?”

You can’t believe you’re explaining this to a literal demon. You close your eyes and inhale slowly and taste smoke. “My…virginity. It’s a promise that I won’t have sex until I enter into a biblical marriage.”

At this, Overhaul is quiet. You give him a moment to answer, half expecting him to question why you think God cares about your sexual status (honestly, you’d be lying if you said you haven’t wondered this yourself), but he stays quiet until you peek up at him to try and gauge the look on his coldly handsome face.

He’s still staring at the ring. He hasn’t touched it—maybe he can’t, because of the cross?—and through the latex, his skin feels hotter than a human’s is supposed to be.

“Is there…” you start, but you trail off when you realize you have nothing to ask. You give a little tug to try and take your hand away and you’re surprised when your wrist actually slides out of his grip to fall back on the nest of sheets in your lap. You didn’t think he’d let you go so easily.

Overhaul turns his head to the side, eyes drilling into you so you feel like you should lower your gaze. The candlelight flickers in strange shadows over his horns. “This will do,” he says quietly.

“What?”

“In exchange for your cure.” The demon taps his own left ring finger, the place where the purity ring sits on your hand, and your heart soars. He actually wants that? It’s just a simple silver band, not worth much, but you’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe it has some special significance because of the religious connotation. Your mother will be angry you’ve lost it, but you’re happy to cope with that if it means living to actually get married!

“Yes!” you blurt out before he has a chance to rethink his offer. Sure, you’ll miss the purity ring—you’ve had it since you were a kid, after all—but there’s no question you’re getting the better end of this deal. At least in your opinion.

Something flashes through his yellow eyes, something you don’t even want to try and identify. “The contract, then.”

You barely have time to notice that his voice has gentled, that it’s practically silken in comparison to before, when the candlelight flickers again and suddenly the contract is everywhere. Everywhere. Writing appears on every surface in the room, covering the walls, stretching over the ceiling, coiling around the sides of the hospital equipment and decorating your bedsheets until you and Overhaul are the only untouched surfaces in sight. The characters are inscribed in red, dark red like—don’t think about that, you tell yourself squeamishly. You can make out some of the letters, even a word here or there—French, you recognize, mixed with what looks like Latin and interspersed with what you can only guess are runes.

“I can’t read this,” you tell him, fidgeting with your ring for what you now realize will be the last time.

“I only need your name,” he purrs, and then you feel a fragile weight in your hand: a feather, pearl-black and glossy and too large to belong to any bird you can think of, its angled tip glistening with wet ink. There’s an empty space in the writing before you, and Overhaul’s gloved hand comes to yours again to guide you into place.

This feels wrong…then again, of course it does. Even if you’re getting off relatively easy and just losing your ring rather than your soul, you’re still making a deal with a demon. You sign your name, forcing yourself to think about the future you have ahead of you rather than a disapproving white-bearded caricature of The Man Upstairs wagging his finger at you for haggling with a literal servant of Satan. People have done worse things to survive, haven’t they? It’s just a ring.

You set the feather down and Overhaul sighs, thick black eyelashes obscuring his intense gaze for a moment—and then the contract is gone, leaving your hospital room as blank and sterile as it’s supposed to be (well, aside from the candles and all the other ritual stuff you threw together to summon a demon in the first place).

“Are you going to cure—heal me now?” you ask.

“…Patience, little girl.” He’s pulling his glove off, peeling it down his fingers to bare the pale skin of his hand. You catch your breath and wonder what this is going to feel like, and then the tips of his fingers meet your cheek and—

you stop breathing.

It doesn’t hurt.

Or if it does, you don’t remember the pain a second later when breath floods back into your lungs. What you do feel is energy. Strength in your muscles, blood pumping through your veins, every inhale and exhale as light as a bird and freer. You feel healthy. You’re surprised you even remember what health feels like but you do: it’s like you’ve only been half alive, and now life is surging into you and through you and around you, bubbling up in your core like a spring overflowing. You blink rapidly, thinking you might cry from the sheer pleasure of it, but when you open your mouth it’s laughter that comes out. You’re healthy. You’re alive. You barely notice the IV line literally falling off of your skin because the hole where it entered your vein is sealed shut and healed perfectly.

No more needles. No more hospitals. Even without all the monitors beeping out your heart rate and measuring your vitals, there’s not a shred of doubt in your mind that you’re cured.

“Thank you!” you laugh, looking up at Overhaul and for the first time, not caring that he’s evil incarnate. “I feel—I’m okay! It worked!”

“Of course it did.” His expression is inscrutable, but he lets you have a few moments to enjoy your newfound health.

You roll your shoulders back, flex each muscle you can isolate one by one to test, make fists with your fingers and then run them over your hair, which is already thicker and shinier than it was a moment ago. Your body thrums with energy—you want to run, to feel the ground against your bare feet and the cold night air on your face, and you think you could do it! Your legs are already swinging over the side of your cot, ready to run barefoot out of the hospital if that’s what it takes, but before you can stand up Overhaul’s pushing you back down onto the bed.

“Have you forgotten your end of the bargain already?”

Honestly you did forget, but only for a second, only because you were so excited to just be outside again. “Oh, yeah. Of course.” Your hand goes to your left ring finger, ready to slip the ring off and hand it over, but Overhaul shakes his head.

“Not here.”

“What—?”

You’re falling. Your hospital room is disappearing, the image of your walls and your window and your bed disintegrating into yawning black, and you’re falling through it into nothing, into emptiness, and Overhaul’s still-bare hand in yours is the only anchor you have so you clutch onto it and squeeze your eyes shut. You want to scream—that’s the sane thing to do when you’re falling through miles and miles of empty space, right?—but when you open your throat the sound is swallowed up just like the light was…

Overhaul’s hand burns into yours, an improbable lifeline that you pull closer more out of terror than conscious thought. The slick, empty air rushes around you and you think I am going to die like this and then, incredibly, as soon as you’ve accepted your imminent demise, you feel your back mold onto a chilled, flat surface, vertebra by vertebra up to the back of your head, as if you’ve been lain down onto it.

Your heart thuds in your ears and you brace for an impact because your body hasn’t quite accepted yet that it’s not falling anymore—but at the same time, you know you’re lying down on something. You pry your fingers away from their vice-grip on Overhaul’s arm and feel around blindly for what’s underneath you, and when it seems reasonably tangible you let yourself open your eyes.

Way above, vaulted dozens of feet over your head, is a ceiling studded with gilt-edged frescoes and stained glass. It’s raining (even though it wasn’t in the hospital, you think) but through the massive panes of colored glass there’s enough oily blue light to make out that you’re in a church.

You’re in a church, with a demon. Isn’t that against the rules?

You sit up stiffly and look over at Overhaul, who’s standing at your side and looking down at you…which is how you realize the soft, cold surface you’ve been deposited onto is the blanket on top of the altar in the sanctuary. “Where...did you take me?”

“You should know this place.”

And you do, when you look around. It’s empty now and you’ve never been here at night, but this is a church your mother would bring you to when you were little, back before the disease got so bad you couldn’t risk traveling to it anymore. This is where you took your purity vow…the ring feels heavy on your hand. “Why—why—“

“I can’t stand human hospitals. Filthy places… How that reek of illness and death doesn’t bother your kind, I’ll never understand.” Overhaul pulls his latex glove back on. He’s dressed differently now, no longer impersonating a doctor—black shirt, black pants, and a…bird mask in red leather and gold. So are you, as a matter of fact. Instead of your hospital gown, you’re in a gauzy white dress that’s already been pushed up to pool around the tops of your thighs.

The slip is too thin for the cold, and you can feel your nipples standing up under the cloth so you fold your arms over your chest and hug yourself. “Why did you take me here?” The sound of your voice echoes off the walls eerily and you wish you hadn’t spoken so loudly. The reflection of your words sounds girlish, nervous.

“I told you. Your side of our contract.” Even in this dark, the angular features of his face are clearly concentrating—on you. “Are you already having second thoughts? Such a fickle little thing…”

“You mean the ring?” You reach for it again, ready to tear it off and throw it at him if that’s what it takes to see your deal through, but Overhaul snatches your hand away, pinning it above you.

“Not the ring,” he says. “The promise.”

The…promise?

A chill makes its way down your spine despite the heat radiating off the demon’s body and onto yours. “I don’t understand.”

“The promise,” Overhaul repeats—and you hear a sound almost like wings flapping and then he’s on the altar with you, knees straddling your hips as a single hand holds both your wrists above your head. “To remain a virgin until marriage. Your promise to God.”

A streak of lightning cracks down on the other side of the stained glass window behind the altar, illuminating the room briefly in spectacular pits of red and orange and yellow…and then it’s dark again, and the only color you can make out is the gold in Overhaul’s eyes.

“I’m going to break it,” he murmurs, lowering his head toward your ear right as the answering thunder rolls through the sanctuary, up through the altar, up into you.

///

Méfiez-vous de son piège, the grimoire said. Beware of the catch.

Of course it wasn’t just a ring.

Overhaul’s fingers are in—inside you, his middle and ring finger pumping through the length of your cunt like they belong there, like you were made to be touched this way. A mixture of your juices and your own spit cling to the latex because he made you suck his fingers before he put them in you and he hasn’t bothered to take his gloves off—not that you asked. You’ve been too busy biting your lip to try and muffle the moans that he keeps forcing out of you. He’s bracing himself on top of you with one hand and fingering you with the other, so your own hands are free to push into your eyes and hide your face…until he yanks your arm back and stops.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes are screwed shut and you shake your head back and forth, the movement shuddering your whole body right down to your pussy wrapped around Overhaul’s fingers. He slows the movement and kneels back, pushing one of your thighs up into your chest as he does it.

“Look at me.”

And you’re not sure whether it’s some unearthly power he has over you or the plain old deterioration of your willpower, but you can’t refuse him. You crack your eyes open and he’s glaring down at you, skin pale as ice in the blue light. Once he’s satisfied that you’re watching, the demon leans back in to fuck your cunt with his fingers, slowly at first and then quicker when he hits something inside of you—a spot, a place on the inner wall of your pussy that makes you feel like you’ve been shocked— heat blooms through you like blood in water and you gasp and he curls his fingers up to pet over that spot again.

“Wait—wait, that’s—it feels—weird!” You’ve never felt like this before. You’re not supposed to feel like this, it’s wrong.

“I understand you’ve never touched yourself, but don’t pretend you don’t like it.” Overhaul says, voice as indifferent and calm as ever even though your cunt is dripping clear sticky liquid over the plastic of his glove.

He pushes back in and grinds his palm over the little button on the top of your pussy—your clit?—and you want to scream. “No, I—I don’t—nnhh...”

Do you like it? The demon’s body is so hot next to yours, like he’s running a fever except you’re the one going out of your mind… You’ve heard metaphors for sexual pleasure before (that it’s like having something to drink when you’re dying of thirst; or that it’s the ultimate act of intimacy, love in physical form) but all of that’s a fucking lie. There’s nothing to compare it to, no reference that makes sense, because it doesn’t make sense—you don’t even want him to keep going, do you? You’re only doing this because you signed your name on a devil’s contract, because you don’t want to die and there’s no alternative…but that doesn’t explain why you feel so warm from the inside out, why you’re squirming and your hips are rocking involuntarily no matter how much you try to keep still. This isn’t right. You feel like you’ve been lied to.

A good girl wouldn’t like this.

Overhaul isn’t going to let you close your eyes, so you don’t—but the sounds coming out of your mouth are so…indecent (and how can you think these things about yourself? the word feels like someone else is saying it when you hear it in your head) that your hand is drifting up to your mouth before you can stop yourself, trying to stifle all of it…

“Let your voice out. I want you to hear yourself moan.”

Long fingers slide their way out of your pussy and then move up to rub quick little circles around your clit and you moan, like a whore, like a girl getting her cunt rubbed by a demon— “Oh, uhhhn—something, it’s—coming—“ There’s something building up in your core—a peak, a climax, something that makes you fist your hands in the nightgown he put you in (so tight you’re surprised the thin fabric hasn’t torn) and tilt your hips up into him, begging without words because you don’t have any to express what your body is asking for…

But he doesn’t give it to you. Overhaul takes his hand away from your pussy and the shock of the cool air after his too-hot touch is almost enough to send you over that edge—almost. Not quite. And without it, you’re left shivering and quaking, thighs twitching as your baser instincts beg you to just put your hand between your legs for once and hump your fingers to completion if the demon won’t do it.

You’re not going to risk that, though. Not when Overhaul’s dragging your body closer, bunching up the blanket on the altar under your spine, so your pelvis is angled to his… He’s already shirtless and you hear him unzipping his pants but you can’t bring yourself to actually look at him, even when you feel something hard and hot nudging up against your inner thigh and then aligning to your sticky wet slit.

“This will hurt a bit, but I want you to look,” he says, and you don’t even understand at first until you make yourself feel it—his cock, pushing up against your tight cunt to finish this, this perversion of what your first time was supposed to be…

And what was it supposed to be? Roses and candles and soft kisses? A nameless, faceless husband unzipping your wedding dress and making love to you with the lights off? The way the demon touches you should be cruel in comparison but it isn’t, it’s lighting fires under your skin and turning your brains to mush, so how is your body supposed to tell the difference?

It’ll hurt, you know that, you’ve heard enough about sex to know that it always hurts the first time for girls…women. It was already a stretch to fit his fingers in your virgin pussy, so of course his cock is going to hurt. You turn your head toward the window at your side and try on look out at the rain drawing rivulets like veins over the glass, something to focus on instead of him.

“I said look,” the demon hisses, and his hips push forward a bit and you bite off a whimper of pain. “Watch me take your virginity…look at your tight little cunt swallowing me up just like it was made to.”

“N-No—“ you whine, even though it’s not like you can ignore it. “Don’t make me, don’t make me look, I can’t—“

“Then look at me.”

It’s what he wants, some kind of wicked satisfaction he gets off on, but you’re lucky enough to even get an option so you choose that one, shifting your gaze up into his face instead of the place where his cock is pressing deeper and deeper inside you. Overhaul’s eyes are half-lidded and it’s hard to tell from behind the mask but the look on his face is…pleasure? No, that would be too human. Restraint, at least. He could just thrust up into your body in one stroke, but he wants you to feel it for some reason.

Maybe because it’s a worse betrayal of your chastity if you want to get fucked.

Lucky for you, though, you can barely feel anything aside from the pain. The heat you felt building earlier is draining out of you even as Overhaul tilts deeper, layering his chest over yours. You’re almost grateful for the modest barrier the dress provides between your torso and the solid muscle of his abdomen. His cock in your pussy feels like it’s too big too deep too much and it’s the first time you’ve felt like your body wasn’t created specifically for this purpose so you hold it tight.

“Does it hurt?”

A second of clarity makes you want to snarl (of course it fucking hurts, I’m losing my virginity to a demon I summoned from hell) and you dig your fingernails into your palms to stop yourself from saying it out loud. Overhaul pulls out a fraction of an inch and then pushes back in and you feel like the breath’s being pushed out of your lungs. “Yes! Yes, it—it hurts—“

“I can make you enjoy it…for a price,” he sighs, settling into a slow rocking motion of his hips pushing into yours.

And you want to, every sore muscle in your cunt is telling you to give in and give up, give him what he wants so you can enjoy it like he says—but you’d rather hate every second of this than make another deal. You shake your head quickly and because you’re still too afraid to look away from him, you don’t miss the look of surprise that flits across his face before he tamps it down. “I don’t—I don’t want to—like it,” you gasp out between thrusts. “It’s better if—if it h-hurts…”

This time it’s obvious—his eyes really do widen, and you feel some petty triumph at having caught him off guard like this. Who’s predictable now? you think—and then he’s lifting one hand off the altar at the side of your head and tugging his glove off with his teeth, and you don’t even have time to be afraid of what he’s going to do to you because it’s too late, his bare fingers are already stroking over your mound and onto your core, massaging into the flesh of your stomach so he can feel his own cock sliding in and out of you—

and it doesn’t hurt anymore?

You only have a second to try and understand—he cured you, he healed the pain from your first time just like he healed your illness?—before he hooks his grip under your thigh and folds your legs into your chest so he can fuck into you harder than before. His cock slaps into your pussy and you can hear it, hear how wet your filthy little cunt is, smeared through with your juices. It’s sick—the sound of skin against skin, and the moaning you can’t hold back, you sound like a woman in a porno and you wish the pain would come back just so you could keep hating what he’s doing to you. “What—what did you do—“

The demon ignores you. “It feels good, doesn’t it.”

“Nn—“ It’s deeper like this…deeper and rougher and you can feel it. Now that the pain’s been reduced to the dull ache of a stretched muscle, you can feel everything—his cock sliding against that same spot in your cunt that makes you want to squeal, the friction of his body moving against your clit, all of it, everything you wanted to block out— he pumps into you and you hear your breath sobbing out a moan a second out of rhythm, the sounds of you bouncing on demon cock echoing over the walls. “Please—ah, ahhh…”

“‘Please?’ Are you begging—me, little girl?” Overhaul pushes your thigh up and drags his cock through you, excruciatingly slow, forcing you to feel the thick head slide over every gummy wall in your slick pussy.

You shake your head, mewl, try to force your hips to stop rocking back into his and grinding your clit against him. But you can’t. You’re a—you were a virgin, for fuck’s sake! Overhaul’s immortal. Probably thousands of years of experience on how to make you feel like you want this, like you’re only alive in the places he touches you… You’re at his mercy, if he has any. You never stood a chance.

“Then are you begging your god?” His body lowers directly onto yours and like you’re being controlled by puppet strings your arms fold around him and rake your fingernails uselessly into the smooth skin of his back. You can feel the vibration of his mirthless laughter through his chest. “It must hurt terribly…to know he isn’t listening.”

“Don’t—stop, please,” you sob. “Don’t say—don’t stop—please!”

“Listen to yourself, girl—“ Overhaul’s breath is faster now, but you don’t have time to question it because you feel your peak coming again, the tension rising up through your cunt and your abdomen, harsher and crueler than when his fingers were in you but you want it just as much. More. “Has he ever answered your prayers? Has he...ahh, fuck—who’s the one giving you what you need?”

“No— please, please just let me let me, please—“ You’re talking nonsense now, begging for the release—at least then it’ll be over, and you need it, you need it so badly you feel your muscles locking up, cramping, your ankles crossing each other behind Overhaul’s back.

“Good girl,” the demon breathes, and then he lifts off you so he’s kneeling upright with the two of you still connected, his thick, heavy cock still speared in your pussy, and his fingers come down again to rub at your clit. Everything’s so wet you can hear the motion of his fingers slicking themselves through your juices, sliding up and down the little button over and over and it feels so good that a tiny part of you almost wants to drag it out, to savor it, but the rest of your body is going to die, is going to go crazy if the demon doesn’t let you cum right now, right now, right now!

And he does. Praise the Lord. The pads of Overhaul’s fingers pass over your clit one last time and your head rolls back, your throat moves but you can’t even make a sound, your legs shake and you cum.

You didn’t know it was like this.

Your cunt squeezes down on his cock, throbbing and pulsing and your toes literally curl (you didn’t think that was a real thing!) and your vision goes black for a moment and—oh fuck oh fuck i want this i want more how is it possible that i’ve never felt like this—you understand, more intimately than ever, why sex is wrong:

because nothing that makes you feel this good could possibly come without a cost, could it?

///

It must take longer than you thought for you to come back to your senses, because when you regain awareness of your body you’re in your hospital bed. You’re clean, too, and you wonder for a second if Overhaul bothered to clean you up? Or no…he probably just snapped his fingers and transported you back to your room. You’re not really sure how it works.

What you are sure of, however, is that you just got fucked by a demon. You’re sore in places that you didn’t know it was possible to be sore, and there are already bruises forming on the flesh of your thighs from how tight he was holding you. You don’t really have time to inspect these, though, because apparently your…ordeal (if you can call it that) isn’t over.

Overhaul’s still here.

He’s facing the hints of sunrise through the east window, dressed again in the immaculate lab coat and surgeon’s mask. “You’re awake,” he says without looking at you.

You nod hesitantly. You’re not really sure what the protocol is in this situation, but at least you’ve finally held up your side of the contract, right? And so has he. Despite having been up all night doing sinful things, you’re still itching to get out of this bed and test the limits of your healthy body. “You’re…going to leave, right?”

“Yes—”

At that, you sigh in relief and settle back into your starched bedsheets.

“But there’s one more thing you owe me.”

“Goddamnit,” you swear for the very first time in your life. After what you just did, taking the Lord’s name in vain seems like a relatively minor sin.

Overhaul’s mildly irritated expression doesn’t change, but he holds his hand out to you, palm up, the way you imagine someone would if they were helping you out of a car or requesting a dance at an old-fashioned ball. And really, you want all of this to be over—you want to get out of this hospital, you want to taste what the air outside is like, you want to distract yourself from what you just gave up in exchange for a future. At this point you’re just going to have to hope God isn’t as picky about the whole premarital sex thing as you grew up believing.

So you put your hand in Overhaul’s.

Slowly, carefully, like he’s afraid it’ll burn him, he slides your purity ring down your finger and balances it in the palm of his bare hand. It sizzles when he touches it, glowing orange until it eventually burns down into a ash-black circle in the center of his palm. Once he’s satisfied that your pretty little ring has been reduced to nothing more than a scorch mark, he closes his hand around yours and you feel something sharp, painfully hot, etching onto your finger.

It’s over in a second, but you still yelp and yank your hand away from him as soon as he lets you. “Ah—ow, what was that?”

He burned you, he literally burned you! He’s already healed it, but there’s still a thin, pale scar, an intentional one left wrapping around the skin at the base of your left ring finger. Like a wedding ring.

When you look close, you can make out a symbol on the back of your finger where the cross used to sit—and even though your conscious mind doesn’t recognize it, the sight of it rings out something inside your ribcage, deeper and truer than flesh and blood. It’s the devil’s mark, you think. It’s his.

“…A promise,” Overhaul says softly, and even though it’s a chilly morning, you can feel the heat of his hands on yours a long time after he vanishes back into the dark.

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #mha imagines #tw dubcon #tw sacrilege #tw christianity #overhaul #chisaki kai #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero imagines #my hero academia x reader #my hero imagines #boku no hero fanfic #smut

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strawbubbos · 3 years

Text

encanto college!au headcanons

mirabel and camilo are aged up to college age

encanto is accessible

there is no magic in this au

this post will look best on your phone

♡ thank you ♡

Isabela

Senior

Major: Biology

Minor: Plant Studies

She is very popular, has little friends as she likes to keep to herself, she does get asked out often though

After graduating she opens a flower shop in their hometown. She decorates the interior by herself and it becomes Encanto’s pride.

Isabela gives the best advice (not just about plants) and knows all about flower language

Of course she also sells cacti and succulents

I headcanon Camilo to go on quite some dates when he’s older, and him, being the gentleman he is, always brings flowers. Making him one of Isabela’s best customers

Dolores

Senior

Major: Communication Sciences and Disorders

Minor: Statistics

Not as popular as Isabela, but she is well liked

Sometimes too liked… to Mariano’s annoyance

Speaking of him, they’re high school sweethearts and go to the same college!

Despite not having a gift in this AU, she prefers to live at Casita, as dorm life would be too noisy for her liking

After graduating she becomes an audiologist

She seems like such a gentle soul, so I see her really putting her heart into it by comforting people, and explaining every step of testing somebody’s hearing

Luisa

Sophomore

Major: Physical Therapy

Minor: Psychology

I headcanon Luisa to still be tall and quite strong despite not having a gift in this AU

Too hard of a worker, she’s in the soccer team, the baseball team, helps freshman get settled in and always helps with homework, because she literally can’t say no

She’s super loved by both her sports teams and classmates and they’re always super grateful for everything she does, but most importantly love her for how sweet and passionate she is

One time she got chocolates as a thank you for helping out and she nearly burst out crying

Sometimes gets super overwhelmed by her busy schedule but she had an amazing support group that is always willing to help her out

Camilo

Freshman

Major: Acting

Minor: Theatre

Ah yes, Camilo “The Entertainer” Madrigal

Like Isabela very popular, but unlike her, befriended the entire school within a year

I don’t want to call him a heartbreaker because he’s the literal definition of a gentleman (That’s how his papá raised him to be) but he does have to (gently) decline quite some offers

It’s difficult to stand out in a large family, so since he was little he had already decided he wanted to be in the spotlight

He acts cocky as a joke (he’s a little insecure but he’s getting there!), but is one of the most humble people ever

Got recognised on the street ONCE and has never let it go since

Literally one of the sweetest most talented kids in the school, he deserves every opportunity he gets and people are genuinely happy for him

The school’s pride alongside Mirabel

Mirabel

Freshman

Major: Fashion design

Minor: Environmental Studies

A sewing prodigy

Well liked but not extremely popular, she had a handful of very good friends across the school

She won herself a scholarship by designing a dress in the school’s colour for a contest

Oh by the way! Julietta 100% makes food for the kiddo’s there and makes sure Dolores delivers it to them when she comes to school

Okay back to Mirabel; she has such an eye for detail she manages to make the clothes she designs into actual pieces of art

Her dream is to go visit New York Fashion Week or work together with Camilo on a film (her being costume designer)

She also definitely has gotten complaints from her dormitory neighbours for playing accordion at two in the morning

i haven’t written in a while, so i hope you guys like it! i finished it within a day because i was so excited but editing fake instagram profiles is definitely not my strong suit lol ^^;; i kinda messed up on mirabel’s profile didn’t i?

#mirabel madrigal #camilo madrigal #luisa madrigal #encanto #isabela madrigal #dolores madrigal #fanfic #fluff #headcanon #college au #pepa madrigal #julietta madrigal #bruno madrigal #angst

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spaceytingz · 2 years

Note

you temporarily gain Beyoncé's vocal abilities, stamina and dancing expertise for one purpose: you have to sing 25 Carly Rae Jepsen songs at a concert of your own. Which songs do you pick? And where are you performing?

Ooh, 25, me likeyyyy

NOTE: idc if this makes no sense story-wise

lemme see:

1. I'm obviously opening with Run Away With Me, it's tradition.

2. Making The Most Of The Night (I adore this song, imagine being able to sing it properly) - Storywise, we're flung into the beginning of a fling.

3. I Know You Have A Girlfriend - It starts out as an affair, but she just can't help herself (also the reason this made the cut out of all the other Kiss songs is the "I THINK I THINK I THINK I WANT IT WAAYYY TOOO MUUUUUUUCH" part)

4. Want You In My Room (this was the last minute addition)

5. Body Language - They start having problems, and Carly (or is it me??? who knows) thinks everything will be okay, they just have to fuck it overfhdsjfdfsd

6. This Is What They Say - She feels amazing, post nut clarity is a friend.

7. Curiosity - But we do have to remember, he has a girlfriend. And he's kind of an ass. (This is one of my fave Carly songs of all time, it's so good)

8. Cry - Continuing with the emotional unavailability with probably her objectively best song of all time

9. Love Me Like That - I have such a soft spot for this song, it's literally perfect, it's so dramatic and emotional. Realisation that this relationship can't work out.

10. Wildflowers - Leaving. This song made the cut cause of the whole DON'T YOU THINK IT'S EASY FOR ME OH ALL THE THINGS I'VE TRIED TO BE part

END OF ACT 1

11. Let's Get Lost - Honestly, I'd sell my soul just to be able to sing this once, this song is so fucking good. Start of something new

12. LA Hallucinations - The relationship starts and continues, finding an anchor in someone else.

13. Fever - Sudden and tragic end, this is the #1 song along with Cut To The Feeling that I would answer this question with

INTERLUDE - "TAKE ME INTO YOUR ARMS AGAIN" from LAH plays four times, getting distorted in the process

14. I'll Be Your Girl - Descent into madness hehe, this song would be so fun live with Beyoncé's vocal abilities, stamina and dancing expertise.

INTERLUDE - "SHAKE ME FROM LA HALLUCINATIONS" from LAH plays four times, getting distorted in the process

15. Little Of Mine - Continuing the descent into madness.

INTERLUDE - "TAKE ME" FROM LA HALLUCINATIONS STARTS PLAYING ON LOOP, GETTING MORE DISTORTED IN THE PROCESS UNTIL IT SUDDENLY STOPS.

16. Your Type - Moving on

17. Roses - Moving on again (this song specifically made the cut cause of the DRUNK ON CIGARETTES LAST YEAR SILHOUETTES part)

18. Too Much - Self acceptance

19. When I Needed You - Obviously

20. Store - Except the Store is a metaphor for the club lol

END OF ACT 2

21. I Didn't Just Come Here To Dance - Finding someone new at the club, this song FUCKS SO HARD

22. Happy Not Knowing - After everything that's happened, reluctance to get into something new

23. Third to last, we got The One. Contuination of HNK with her finally giving in a) it's frankly criminal this song has never been performed live, b) it's fucking god tier, c) I really wanna sing it with some sort of hesitation and self-destructiveness ROMANCE IS FINE POUR ME SOME WINE and d) it sets up the final songs

24. Second to last, we got Stay Away. a) I adore this song to bits, it's so high energy and it just makes me wanna dance and b) storywise, it's Carly (or is it me???) getting over herself and realising she wants something more with this person

25. Closing with the most euphoric song known to man, Cut To The Feeling

#emotion-deluxe #cause i refuse to acknowledge your current username #carly rae jepsen #ask

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meduseld · 3 years

Note

So I like to semi-jokingly say "Solomom, Sarah, and Hannah coulda had a nice thruple, lavender marriage and lived secluded cottagecore lives but nooooo he had to get the devil involved!!!"

Like say instead of sacrificing to the devil the very same night, Sarah confessed to Solomon about someone seeing them first, and then instead of going through with his ritual that night, he admitted that he saw them, and...I dunno!

They're both clearly okay with having major secrets, your brain is so brilliant lol I wanted to know what do you think that'd be like?

Somebody earlier said he could have married one of them for appearances and then they could have had a coven of White Witches: Rainbow Chapter and that phrase lives in my mind rent free.

But yes, I think they were so close to making it. Which honestly to me enhances, instead of detracts from the story here. Because it's a literal tragedy, how it could have worked out and then didn't.

I think the key element here was that they were very close and compatible as people/friends, even if Solomon was hiding feelings (that I don't think were genuine, rather it was him latching onto her as friend! Ideal! Gets me and cares for me! Should be enough! and also not wanting to look at his own feelings and desires. The man isn't straight, is what I'm saying). Close enough that in the 1600s Sarah was comfortable telling him she was gay. And they were both down to sell their souls to Satan, if to very different ends. Yet both of them got there the same way: through sheer dead end desperation. We joke a lot about how Solomon just had a stupid farm and didn't want to go back into town. But the truth is, it's about more than the farm. It's what it represents. It's about his independence, his freedom, about living life how he wants and not under the yoke of his brother or town society (hey! that sounds familiar!) To him, he was facing basically what Sarah and Hannah were.

Now imagine it like this: Solomon heads out. But later than in canon, for one reason or another. Call it fate. He's full of fire and fear and determination to get the Widow's book, after pacing in his house and debating himself for hours. He hears the kids in the woods and detours, thinking wistfully about how free they are and how little time to be that way they have left, how suffocating Union is, how alienated he feels from their religion and worship, how he feels other, how he needs this and no one would understand. Except maybe- Sarah? Is that Sarah and Hannah and are they-? And then he's running and his feet have taken him straight home, his head pounding. That. If she. If anybody saw. Anybody but him that is, he'd never betray her but...Best check on her.

Besides, it's dawning and he can't or won't go to the Widow in broad daylight. He's right to go to Sarah, anyway, because someone else did see and she's falling apart and he tries to comfort her the way he comforts himself, these childish fancies pass, but then she says what he's never been brave enough to say to himself. That it's not playing or a trifle. It's her. It's him. And he says: "Sarah, listen to me. We must be married, by tomorrow at the latest". She doesn't understand at first, but he's desperate, he's trying to tell her. She'll be dead if she doesn't. What gets through to her is that it won't just be her. Hannah will be on the gallows beside her.

When they marry, latter than he'd said but soon enough, there's not much of a crowd, but there's relief in Pastor Miller's eyes. Then the two of them sit at his table, trying to both look and not look at each other. In the dead of night, there's a knock on the door. Hannah, like Solomon knew it would be. She's been crying. "What will we do?" she says, because her mother has gotten worse, not better. "There may be one thing" Solomon says, careful, largely because the farm is still failing and he has a wife to provide for now. He needs to bring forth a new life, for all three of them. Two sets of eyes turn to him, one dark and one light, and it's decided, just like that.

#fear street #we could have had it all.mp3 #solomon goode #sarah fier #hannah miller #sarah x hannah

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supernatural-reacts · 3 years

Text

Season 15 episode 6

- this episode is called “Golden Time” and I’m like 98% sure I’ve heard the title but idk why

- I MISS ROWENA I WANT HER BACK

- this woman needs to leave

- oh she got cursed that’s good too

- Dean what are you wearing lmao

- “Cain and Abel 2.0” bold line for a show that didn’t even cast Abel

- CAS!!

- OH YAY I MISSED HIM

- “I had a friend who... always praised fishing for its meditative qualities. I wish I found it more relaxing.” he misses Dean 🥺

- “Eileen?” I LITERALLY DROPPED MY PHONE OH MY GOD

QUEENNN I MISSED HER SO MUCH

- she’s been in Hell this whole time??? That sucks man

- “souls from Hell can’t go to Heaven.” I hate everythingggg

- “you’re like Rowena’s protege.” I LOVE THAT

- “can you help me?” “Of course” little angel working a case!!

- “after we met I started practicing.” SAM PRACTICED SIGN LANGUAGE THATS SO CUTE IM GOING TO CRY

- Eileen is so tiny next to Sam I love them so much oh my god

- are those witches spying on them through that bowl or the mirror

- didn’t that lady say the sheriff wasn’t here bc he got his hair cut on Tuesdays? This man is bald? Kinda sus

- that’s a lot of phones lol

- CAS AND DEAN TALKING TO EACH OTHER HERE IS SO MUCH THEYRE LITERALLY ACTING LIKE AWKWARD EXES

- “tada!” the way I would die for Eileen

- “you miss her.” “I killed her.” damn but also I really miss her too

- “Rowena got it. She didn’t know all the details but she knew the game was rigged so this, magic. This is how she kept control.” I feel like that summarizes her personality pretty well and I love it

- YES FUCK YES BRING EILEEN BACK YESSSSSS

- oh no what’s wrong with Sam

- well this is bad

- ROWENA LEFT ALL HER STUFF TO SAM OMG

- “she tried to sell my soul to a demon and she turned my first crush into a water balloon and popped him. And then she got mean.” I FEEL KINDA BAD FOR THIS WITCH GIRL LMAO

- Cas why are you telling this random lady the truth

- “Rowena was a very powerful witch maybe the most powerful of all time.” I freaking miss her

- HEY NO DONT HURT SAM

- oh hey I was right that the sheriff was sus

- “it’s always you. You selfish little men in positions of authority. You take what you want, you take who you want. You believe that your power will protect you. Well it won’t protect you from me.” 1. THATS THE BEST THING IVE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE JFC 2. CAS SAYS ACAB 3. LET CAS GO FERAL MORS OFTEN PLEASEEE

- “not today bitch.” I LOVE EILEEN

- “I learned from the best.” HELL YEAH WITCH SAM

- Cas struggling so hard to heal this boy is so sad

- “if I stay, nothing changes. It’s time for me to get back in the game.” Cas. Cas. I would literally die for you.

- the way Eileen’s ghost doesn’t disturb the water is really cool

- YAYYY IT WORKED OH MY GOD IM SO HAPPY SHES BACK

- Sam never giving up hope is actually something that can be so personal

#dean winchester #supernatural #dean and sam #sam winchester #spn #supernatural thoughts #sam and dean #spn thoughts #castiel #destiel #saileen #spn season 15 #supernatural season 15 #eileen leahy #spn eileen

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courtlyharlequin · 4 years

Note

omg this event you've made is so adorable 🥺🥺 congrats on 100 followers too btw! 🎉🎉 for my request... I'd like to order a Lavender Rose White Mocha with Cater please !

The Only One

Warning(s): female reader, mutual pining, slight angst, slight fluff at the end

A/N: Aww thank you, Marzi~ And I’m at 250 now. Whoops lol. This took so long to write because I wanted to make it angsty even though it was supposed to be funny.. I literally can only write angst. It’s kind of sad. But Cater is good angst material ohoho~ But don’t worry it’s just a little sad not heart wrenching. I hope you like it

Cater took a liking to you. More than he would've liked. It was silly, after all. You were just another regular at this coffeeshop. There were a handful of you, but out of all of them, he just had to like you enough for it to be labeled as a crush by his colleagues. His juniors poked fun at his "special treatment" towards you. But what of it? There was nothing. He simply thought you were down to earth and nothing more.

You were mundane, nothing striking about your appearance. You were pretty, yes, but you were pretty in a way where everyone looked at you for a moment, concluding that your appearance was a little above average, then turn away and rarely ever steal a glance at you again. You dressed comfortably and did not care much about how others perceived you. You dressed for yourself, nothing sparkly, nothing that stands out too much. To someone like Vil Schoenheit, a fellow barista, you would be named a potato on the spot. If you were a potato, you would be Cater's favorite potato. But, you're not a potato. You were more like a yellow carrot. A simple vegetable, but striking in your own, unique way.

Punctual, you were. You came to the café every day at the same time to order something to-go and leave within ten minutes. The only exception was on the weekends because you reserved those days to catch up on sleep lost during the week whilst selling your soul to the oh so prestigious Night Raven College, the school which he also attended. He saw you around, but never properly conversed with you.

He preferred keeping his fondness for you as a customer as just that– fondness. Fondness from afar. He liked this invisible bond you two had, how he just knows what you're in the mood for, how he prepared a shot of espresso especially for you, and left it on standby, waiting for you to claim it.

There was nothing more than that. You weren't even friends. He was content with the fact that he could even talk to you at all. Perhaps it might be a self-projection, but he liked you because you seemed to have everything Cater ever wanted– an appearance that wasn't over the top and a distaste for all things eye-catching and glittery. But most of all, an authentic personality. You were real. There was no pretending. You didn't beat around the bush when ordering your initial order– the rosé latte.

"I just wanted to see if my soulmate is here," you smiled.

But they weren't. Or so you said.

"He's not here, I guess..."

Anyone would have been crushed, but you... you shrugged it off and came back the next day and the day after that and the day after that. You came every, single day.

Cater made sure not to touch on the subject of soulmates during your conversations. A little part of himself hoped that you were "the one", but he knew from his sisters' horror stories, that love does not always last. From their tales, he was much more cautious and hoped for someone while aware that they won't be around forever. "The one" is not just the person you first lock eyes with in a hallway. "The one" is always your first kiss or your first time. "The one" could be from a different universe. "The one" was unrealistic.

When he had met you, it was love at first sight and also love at first response. When you admitted that you believed the rumors about the latte unlike the many customers who denied the fact that they were desperate for love, Cater was taken aback by your honesty. He was bewitched by it.

Part of him was hoping that you would say that he was your fated lover though he acknowledged that the chances of that happening was as slim as Vil's stiletto heels. At the moment, he was completely, and utterly infatuated by your simple appearance. He had subconsciously projected his idea of "the one" onto you, hoping, by the love of god, that you were his soulmate. He knew it was a long shot from the start.

Nevertheless, when you said that there was no soulmate for you at all, it hurt. For him. For you. But, if there was one thing Cater was good at, it was faking a smile and hoping for the best. And he did just that for you.

"Ah... don't worry, (y/n), they're bound to be here for sure!" he winked.

God, it was painful.

Some time passed after that and the way his heart throbbed at the thought of you not having a soulmate, and that he was not said soulmate, only festered. You came every day, on the hour. As punctual as ever. As vivacious as ever. You came as if the concept of soulmates did not exist. You came happily. You talked to him so easily as if he was not the one who witnessed your pitiful epiphany. Not that he questioned it, of course. He never wanted you to leave. He wanted to spend more time with you and defy fate just to be with you, but he kept his distance.

On the contrary, you concluded that he was holding back on something, but you did not want to push your luck. You didn't even have to ask. His body language displayed dejection, a slight discomfort. You often wondered why he was so chummy with you compared to the rest of the regulars in the shop. It was probably out of pity after your first encounter. But in truth, you had found your soulmate. Were you certain that he was your soulmate? Of course not. There is no certain way to confirm it. You've watched other girls come in and simply declare that someone was their soulmate after sipping that latte.

"How did the other person feel?" you wondered.

You were unsure as to how to go about it so you just left it at that. It was so silly. But what's even more absurd is that a drink could help one find their "one and only". You decided to go with your gut... even if you took a liking to a certain quirky and peppy barista. You wanted to get to know him more.

Part of you wanted to shout: "I'm your soulmate!", but that was ridiculous. That declaration was something the other person cannot decline. It was unfair for "your soulmate" if they did not feel the same way. If you had shouted: "I'm your soulmate!", it would be more of an obligation for the other person to love you. You did not want that for him. But... you did like him. A lot. You took it upon yourself to mold a relationship with him more organically.

You came to know that despite Cater's appearance, he was a coffee nerd at best. He liked to make small talk with you, talking about how stainless steel cups were the absolute bane of coffee and how ceramic cups were superior. Cater appreciated the fact that you were a woman of culture, who used ceramic cups for her to-go orders, who understood his coffee trivia or his random talks about events on Magicam.

While no significant bond formed between the two of you, one could say that you knew each other well enough to be acquaintances. There were rare occasions he shared Magicam posts with you, ones that he found worthy of wheezing whilst waiting for an order with a particularly long assembly process:

"Pfttt, (y/n)! Have you seen that video of a chicken running around in pants?"

"No? Wait! Is there such a thing?!"

"Here–"

"No!! It's probably really cursed like that picture of Professor Trein in stripper attire!" you yelped, covering your eyes.

"Okay fine. Have a picture of puppies instead."

You turned your attention back to his phone, only to regret it the moment you saw the post, "Cater!! I said I didn't want to see it! Now I can't get it out of my head..."

"It's funny though isn't it?"

You stifled a laugh, "I suppose. But it's very wrong at the same time. Animals and clothes don't go together, usually."

"Hmm... I think they weren't meant to be, but they still look good together. Like dogs look good in clothes. You can confirm that with Professor Crewel's Magicam page. It's like ahh- what is it called- oh! A happy accident! That's what that artist called it right?"

"But it looks so wrong on a chicken."

"Now are you saying a chicken can't pull off jeans?"

"Well, maybe?"

"I'm just messing, (y/n)," he chuckled, turning back to work on your beverage, sliding his phone into his back pocket.

You watched his back in silence. When he was done with your order, you thanked him and left the café.

That night, you searched up the video yourself, wondering why you found it funny the second time around. It shouldn't be funny, but it was.

It became apparent to you that Cater liked those animal videos. He showed you the next day as well.

"They're cute," you said.

In truth, they were. Were they his favorite kinds of posts? Perhaps. He did like adorable animals, but he leaned towards posts about music. Or at least, the side of the personality he showed to a majority of others did. Cater wanted to be himself around you. He tried. He showed posts about kittens and puppies to you to stir up a casual conversation. It worked most of the time. However, he also wanted others (and you, of course) to like him. Whenever his classmates came around, he would cease conversation with you or, if he was showing you a post and could not put his phone away fast enough, he would swipe to his more "manly" posts, the ones about skateboarding tournaments and such.

"Yea–"

"Mornin', Cater!"

"Pfft! No, they aren't! Oh but check this out instead! There's a new set of headphones and it sorta matches my skateboard, dontcha think?" he nervously shrugged, turning to his colleague, "Mornin', Ace!"

"Can I see the headphones too? They sound so cool!"

"What kind of upperclassman would I be if I didn't show my junior something like this," Cater grinned.

A struggle, it was.

After you left the café, Cater cursed himself. Did it come off as rude when he abruptly halted the conversation to greet a fellow barista? Did it come off as rude when he changed the subject of the conversation the moment Ace came onto the scene? He sure hopes not. He loved to make you laugh. Many have told him that the opinions of others don't matter, but old habits die hard. He's always been a people pleaser even if they weren't looking or listening to him rambling to you about animals.

Well, whatever, right? This was his poor attempt to flirt with a crush without being too direct. Cater didn't know why he even tried. You probably found your soulmate already. You might've met him after you left the shop outside on the sidewalk or something. Cater was content with seeing you every morning before you headed off to school. There was a time where he was mopey about it, but he needed extra cash so he chose that course so he could work the morning shift at this café. Now, he was glad he had late start classes if it meant having one on one time with you. He loved to talk to you; he also liked the days where you sat in the silence, listening to the clinks of cups and spoons.

Cater wasn't the sharpest crayon in the box, but he wasn't the dullest either. He was perceptive as one would say. You came here around the same time every day– always wanting to try something new, but always leaning towards the drinks with subtle floral. He liked how your nose crinkled whenever the fragrance was too strong, meaning you would have a hard time swallowing the concoction. From there, he assured you that he would dilute the flowery flavors for your sake, thus opening your options. Your grateful beam was what he lived for these days. Your giggle was like jingles of bells, like how fairies talked. Seeing you on a daily basis was his dose of caffeine. It brightened his day. He hated how he waited for you and panicked when you were just a few minutes late. You were always on time. You always ordered to-go but stayed for a few minutes to dilly dally with him. Cater wasn't one for routine or rules. He never understood Riddle, his coworker, for always wanting things to be a certain way– all day and every day. But with you, he understood the redhead just a little bit more.

And because he more or less understood Riddle's need for things to be in order, today was an off day. You were late. Very late. Later than usual. Later than ever before. It was the weekend and you slept in, meaning you swung by around early noon when the sun was at its midpoint in the sky. It was sundown now. Moreover, it was raining. Cater assumed that you stayed home because of the rain, but it was not raining in the morning so what kept you?

He hated himself for relying on you as a source of happiness. How could he not though? You made his heart race a thousand miles per hour. You weren't that pretty. You were plain, but he liked that. He was confused as to why... but he liked the fact that you did not invest your time in over-the-top ensembles. He liked how your lashes were of a decent length and how they didn't look like butterflies were resting on your eyes. He liked how your makeup if you were wearing any on a particular day, enhanced your natural beauty rather than make you look like a clown.

Cater liked, no– loved, you more than he should've. You were not meant to be with him. He was not your soulmate and you were not his. It was like how people were meant to fall in love, but could not be together in the long run. You didn't have to say anything to him. He knew that he wasn't meant for you. You deserved someone real, someone unlike him.

The barista smiled sadly as he wiped the last speck of dust on the worktable. Yes, you deserved better than a café fling. You deserved better than a facade that was molded so that he could survive school.

He stared out the rose-tinted windows. The rain poured like an endless stream of tears. There was not a soul on the streets. Cater turned to deposit the rag into the to-wash bin. The door chimed, signaling a new customer. Oh boy... he was not in the mood for this...

"Hey, sorry, we're closed right now!" he said, feigning a peppy aura.

"Cater..."

"(y/n)? What are you doing here? And you're soaking too! Wait let me get you a towel. I'll be right back–"

His body reacted before his mind could process. Before he knew it, he was right by your side. He was close enough to touch you, but he only hovered, waiting for permission to lightly hold you by the shoulders.

"No, no, Cater... It's fine. I just wanted to talk to you," you whimpered, taking his wrists and bringing them to your shoulders.

"You're freezing! Sit down. I'll make you something to warm you up."

He ran back to the counter, whipping out his supplies and getting to work as fast as his hands could allow him to.

"No, listen, this will be quick, I promise. I don't intend to waste any more of your time than I already have."

You obeyed, making yourself comfortable at one of the barstools.

"You've never wasted my time, (y/n)," he said, staring intently into your eyes, sliding you a to-go cup.

That was... fast. You hoped Cater wasn't waiting for you all day, just to give you this beverage. The cup was filled to the rim with whipped cream and lavender sprigs. It looked like something out of wonderland, something the Mad Hatter would serve Alice if it had to be something other than tea. His viridian green eyes peered into your soul. It was hard to decline. Hesitantly, you took the cup, taking a sip out of it. Ah... warm. Thank goodness he wasn't waiting for you. Or was he? You weren't sure how brewing coffee worked, but you knew he always kept a shot (or was it a pot?) for you on the side. He seemed distraught. The last thing you wanted was for your beloved barista to wear such a raw and broken expression.

"Did you wait for me all day?"

"...Yes, but don't worry about it! It's not your job to come here every day. How's the mocha though? I made it in such a rush that I don't know if I eyeballed the ingredients properly."

"Mocha? That's new."

"Oh yeah! That's a Lavender Rose White Mocha! I heard lavender is supposed to have calming effects. Thought it would help you with whatever you're dealing with."

"How thoughtful of you."

"I know, I know," he smirked, "Now, answer my question: what are you doing here so late? And in the rain with no umbrella or coat too!"

"I wanted to see you."

"You could have seen me in the morning," he groaned, flopping his upper body onto the counter.

"I needed some time to think about exactly what to say."

"Well, you're here now. Shoot."

You inhaled, "I'm your soulmate."

Cater shot up from his sprawled positioned, eyes glistening, brimmed with excitement– a flood of emotions. You could not tell if they were positive or not.

You continued before he could say anything, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you anything before. I just... wanted our relationship to develop organically."

"There's a 'but' somewhere in this, isn't there?" he smiled sadly.

You nodded, "Our relationship developed organically, alright, but I feel... like... you don't deserve someone as ordinary as I am. You like to skateboard and you like to raise the cutest mandrakes for the fun of it... and I... I'm just a girl who likes people with interesting stories, people who lead lives without a single pause. I like you, I do, but I feel like 'the one' for you is so much more than what I can offer. I feel that is so unfair for you. Just because I drank something and declared that you are mine does not mean that you don't have a say in this too. I didn't know how to tell you, knowing that you would probably want someone better. I tried. Every single day since I tried that damn latte... but I couldn't... I always chickened out..."

"(y/n)..."

"But, now that I told you, I can finally let you shine like the star you are. Thank you for everything, Cater."

"Wait, (y/n), I also–"

"I don't need your pity. It's okay," you sighed, leaning forward to press a kiss on his lips, "I just wanted to do that... at least once."

And with that, you bolted out of the coffeeshop in embarrassment, in regret, and woe. You ran as fast as you could. It was so stupid!! The sole concept of someone to be "made for you" was so superficial, unreliable, and unrealistic. You hated how you fell for the idea of a soulmate rather than the person himself, believing that Cater was the boy for you. But that's burdensome for someone who never felt the same way. He would have liked a "cooler" girl not a plain Jane, vanilla kind of girl. The rain masked your tears. It truly hurt you. Your heart was so detrimental.

"(y/n)!! Wait!"

You stopped to turn around to meet the owner of the voice. It was all too familiar. You had spent at least ten minutes with him every day for a couple of months now, after all.

"Cater?"

"S-Slow down... I'm in the light music club, not track and field," he wheezed.

You did not heed his words and spun your heel, preparing to run off to your dorm once more.

"HEY!!! LISTEN!!!" he yelled as he tackled you with a bear hug from behind.

"No!"

You squirmed, but to no avail.

"Cater...What is there to listen to? I'm just in love with the idea of you being my soulmate, not you... I doubt that you would ever fall for such a simple girl like me without that latte. You're so cool and trendy. I could never be your lover! T-That's just not fair to you!" you sobbed, the tension in your muscles relaxed in his grip.

"Who said anything about being fair?! You just jumped to conclusions without asking about my feelings!"

"I still don't think we belong together. We're on completely different levels."

"CHICKENS IN PANTS!" he screeched as his grip on you tightened.

"What??"

"You heard me. Chickens in pants... They're not meant to be together, but they exist anyhow and they look really good together in my opinion. So if you feel that way about not being "meant for me" then think of use like that! But for your information: I actually really like simple girls! I really, really like them a lot! I like you too, idiot! I like you a lot! You're not interested in how 'cool' I am and I couldn't care less about anything flashy. I need a break from that lifestyle. You're just that for me. Please accept my feelings."

He nuzzled the back of your neck. You felt the trail of hot tears running down his cheeks.

"Pfttt. Okay. I accept. On one condition though: I'm the chicken. I don't want to be the pants," you laughed.

"Deal. Let’s head back to the café. The rain isn’t going to clear any time soon. We might catch colds.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” you hummed as you intertwined your fingers with his.

“You know, this could have been way easier if you just told me that you were my soulmate from the get-go,” Cater exasperated.

“I don’t like the idea of soulmates. I think you’ve heard me say it a thousand times before. I don’t think ‘the one’ exists at all. I feel that nobody should be projecting their fantasies onto their lover and expect said person to fulfill that ideal. I was a hypocrite though because I ended up assuming your type and who you would like. I apologize for that.”

“Ahhh so formal! So deep! I never thought about it that way. And.. I’m sorry for giving you mixed signals too.”

“They weren’t that mixed. I just felt like you wanted a girlfriend who had the same aesthetic you had.”

“Those signals were definitely mixed. I… grew up in a place, a really well off place where even the streets shimmered. It was so sparkly. I also had two sisters so I ended up taking a liking to cute things and such. Turns out that in middle school and beyond don’t like pretty boys from sparkly places who like cute things. I’ve been hiding behind something myself. I’m actually not that cool, you know, especially for hiding behind this cheerful persona.”

“I guess we’re both in the wrong now.”

“But since, we’re chickens in pants, we can do anything together!”

“Oh my god, Cater, no!”

“Yes!”

“I already have my work cut out for me already… Oh! We’re here, let’s dry up. Wait? Did you really leave the shop unattended just to chase after me?”

“I forgot about that, oops!” he shrugged.

“Well, your managers aren’t here so it should be alright.”

“Wait! Before we go in, I want to take a picture.”

“Cater, we’re soaking wet and it’s still raining.”

“Just for a second, okay?”

“Ugh. Fine.”

“Say ‘soulmates’!”

“Soulmates…” you rolled your eyes.

“Cute. Caption: I finally found her. Oh and for the tags– hashtag: soulmates, hashtag: chickens-in-pants, hashtag: rainy-day-kisses andddd posted!”

“Wait. Chickens in pants?”

“That’s our new shtick now!” he winked, kissing your cheek and opening the café’s door.

It was then and there you finally let all of your emotions out in the form of a hyena’s laugh.

It was then and there you finally let all of your emotions out in the form of a hyena’s laugh. The real Cater was quite dorky. You were hoping to get to know him more and in turn, he did the same for you.

Because for you, there are no such things as soulmates or “the one”, it was just a person who would walk alongside you. And that person, as fate would have it, was Cater and he was the only one for you.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #twisted wonderland oneshot #twst oneshot #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #cater diamond x reader #event fic #cafe rose event

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scruffyssketchbook · 3 years

Note

Can you give us any other info on the vee life characters? Like what stereotypes they each embody? And their personalities a little?

Author chan: I definitely can!

Eevee- His name is Ever (Creative name, I know) He is the protagonist of the story! A Highschool Sophomore. He moves into his cousin's house, which is where all these eeveelutions live. He is literally, GENUINLY, the only quote on quote normal one. He's basically a normie. He's also the "art kid" He loves cartoons and draws a lot in his notebook. He also loves video games and typical 16 year old boy stuff. He is basically the straight man of the series, as in, he gawks at all the ridiculousness the others get into.

Jolteon- No name yet but her screen name is "Joltanna" She's a super popular Twitch streamer/ vlogger with over 5 million subs! She can beeee very vain and extra. Also goes to the gym like 5 times a week. She recently dropped out of college to focus on her influencer career.

Flareon- No name yet and nothing much about him is developed except that he's a REAL HOT HEAD. He gets angry for the littlest thing. He's also a Reddit troll on the side lol

Vaporeon: His name is Dobbie!!! He's like, a stoner. Also Ever is his cousin. He's a buisness major in the local college!! (This story takes place in a college town lol). Dobbie is super chill. He is one of those people who's like "Bruhhhhh, your energy.... is like so wack today bruuuhhhhhhhhh, I'll send you some good vibes bruhhhhhhhhh" And yes, he skateboards, snowboards, and surfs.

Espeon: No name yet but they are actually a prodigy! like, 16 and in college type prodigy!!! (They are the only non adult other than Ever) Scholarships are basically giving them a full ride. They have an obsession with glasses (Like, they have a LOT of glasses, and wears ALL of them), is a germaphobe, and is a walking wiki. Idk what they are majoring, but I feel like its something like double majoring in Bioengineering and Psychology with a minor in computer science or something ridiculous like that. Is always tired.

Umbreon: My favorite, and the one with the most development. DARKNESS! (Real name Dave) Darkness is a VERY EXTRA, EDGELORD. Now. Umbreon is not emo, or depressed, he is just a very extra, cringy edgelord who says that he is both emo and depressed but is actually not. One of his eyes are always covered with hair, not because its scarred or anything, he just has the eye of a charizard Ho-oh hybrid that he needs to hide from the world or else immense power will release from it. Sure, it switches eyes a lot BUT it is TOTALLY not a contact lens. His best friend? A Katana unironically named "Bloodweep the soul cursed legacy of Dragonsouls and the executioner of the forsaken" he has a massive crush on Sylveon for WHO KNOWS WHAT REASON, but wont admit it even though its pretty obvious. With that said, he went into college as an Undecided major, which means, he doesn't know what he's doing.

Leafeon: You guys saw him lol. Vern!!! I think I said a lot about him already, but he is like- always anxious, constantly hiding behind plants. Also grows and sells weed totally illegally, a FAMILY BUISNESS! UwU He doesnt talk much and hides a lot, so he tends to scare others with his anxious rambles. Also he's unironically studying to be a pediatrician.

Glaceon: Glaceon is genuinely so hard to write I can't think of anything extra for him and rewrote his character 10 times already. He is Jolteon's twin brother tho, and is a mega tsundere for one of the other characters in the cast, but I don't know who yet. (Actually it would be funny if its Flareon) *Makes it Flareon* ALSO!!! He, unlike his sister, is still in college.

Sylveon: Sylveon has no name yet, BUT!!! She is a BIG Weeaboo. When I mean BIG, I mean it dominates her life. Her room is filled with anime merch, manga, and otome games. She doesn't have just one or two anime body pillows, she has SEVERAL, and, you know those weird anime mousepads with the chest or butt wrist rests? Yeah. She has a collection of those. Stupid Short Eevee Comic is an anime in this world, and Sylveon here is deeply in love with Vay from it. She believes that he and her are soulmates, destined to be together, if it wasn't for that blasted screen separating them! Also as a side note, she is only attracted to anime boys. She is also Sophomore in college, studying graphic design.

#Vee life

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sinkingwmyships · 5 years

Text

More MDZS modern (AU) hcs

since y’all seem to like it so much :P

part 1

Wei Wuxian can whistle really loudly. like, REALLY loudly

and Jiang Cheng gets so fricking startled by it and he hates it, so WWX makes sure to do it as often as possible when JC is around >:)

it’s useful for calling dogs though, so JC began training his dogs to respond to the whistles >:D

so recently whenever Lan Wangji comes over to the Jiang residence, he always spots WWX stuck on a tree, a roof, or sometimes even a window ledge

LWJ: “Wei Ying what did you do?” WWX: “Lan Zhan!!! Ahaha... nothing... just enjoying the nice weather up here...”

JC, loudly from inside the house: “Good morning Wangji, did you know dogs can detect liars?”

LWJ secretly already knows, but he just sighs and extends his arms, and WWX grins before jumping down and landing smack inside his embrace, “Thank you Lan Zhan, you’re the best!!”

LWJ: “please stop annoying your brother” WWX: “aiyaa it’s fine, I’m just trying to make his life more exciting you know, it must be soooo boring without a girlf *JC whistles for his doggos* AAAHH I’M SORRY I’M SORRY!!! I TAKE IT BACK!!! LAN ZHAN PROTECT MEEEE!!”

“Wangji, what’s taking so long?” oh shiiiiit JC didn’t know Lan Xichen is here today too, oh my god this is such an embarrassing situation, what should he do, damn that WWX, oh no is LXC coming over why is he smiling oh god oh god why is he highkey getting heart palpitations—

LXC: “oh hey Jiang Cheng!”

*JC.exe has stopped functioning*

Nie Huaisang is suuuuper into bird-watching. it’s just so calming and the birds are so pretty!

he feeds them too, every morning, and now all the birds in the neighborhood just flock to his balcony at 8 AM to get their fill. Nie Mingjue complains that they’re now all too fat and will poop all over the neighborhood, but does NHS care? no ^^

I bet NHS would be the nerd who trains his birds to deliver messages and stuff... and it wORKS. he and WWX have a secret messaging system now >:3

Jin Guangyao totally has a model insta account. literally, who wouldn’t sell their soul for those dimples?? 😩

he’s like, super fashionable. and what’s more, he rocks all types of clothing, from e-boy to formal to traditional... he can even rock no clothing 👀👀

the people who have been featured on this insta includes: NHS, the Lan brothers (surprisingly), JYL, and Wen Qing. JGY and WQ have actually formed an unlikely friendship over this.

speaking of fashion, since she grew up with a brother and no parents/mother, WQ never really had anyone to talk about this to. so she was literally so overjoyed when JYL and her became friends.

it’s the funniest thing ever when people see them walking together: JYL with her cutie-pie-soft-flowy-pastel vibe, and WQ with the red-and-black-angel-of-death vibe lol

but they appreciate each other’s fashion senses though. they even swap clothes sometimes. and e-girl!JYL really makes Jin Zixuan feel some type of way 👀

JGY definitely has piercings. people look at his smile and thinks he’s the cute goody-two-shoes type, but then he starts laughing and omg is that a tongue piercing??

Lan Xichen would know 👀

That’s all for part 2!! Stay tuned for part 3 (maybe?)!!!

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ufonaut · 3 years

Note

I asked you to rank the shittest dads of the JSA a while ago (which I loved so much thank you!!) so could you also do a ranking for who are the worst husbands or boyfriends in the JSA? I don’t know how to word it since some of the JSA are just not the marrying types (like Ted) so maybe who has just the worst relationship skills/disasters idk. Don’t make fun of me for my wording I can’t think of a word to put for this, but I just love everything to do with the JSA and the problems or disasters of their lives including the others making fun of said disasters lol. Thanks!

NO I GET WHAT YOURE SAYING. I LOVE IT. LETS DO THIS.

A Comprehensive Ranking of JSA (And JSA-Related) Members As Romantic Partners, From Best To Worst:

jay garrick - the model husband. it’s literally physically impossible to do better than jay. he’s completely devoted to joan and adores her, he pulls his weight around the house in terms of chores, he’s never forgotten a single important date or anniversary. women want him, men want to kill him for making them look bad

al pratt - complete sweetheart. he & mary james spend their entire time in college absolutely head over heels for each other but only manage to get it together after they graduate. ideal married life until mary’s death while al is trapped in limbo with the rest of the gang

pat dugan - only married his first wife because she was pregnant with mike and it did NOT work out but look at him with barbara! he’s fast approaching jay levels!

ted grant - ted is not the marrying kind and he’s severely slept with approx every woman he’s ever met BUT he’s a real gentleman about it and genuinely good company. 10/10 as long as nothing above vaguely amicable feelings is involved

johnny thunder - in the all star comics 1940 run, johnny tells the jsa he can’t join up until he asks his girlfriend’s permission. malewife

carter hall - for all the ways he should be banned around children and specifically around kendra, it’s undeniable carter did/does love shiera with his whole entire heart and her death is the leading cause for his occasional insanity. good husband, terrible person

johnny quick chambers - the jsa’s most famous divorcee. johnny isn’t a bad husband per se & he and libby were ridiculously in love once upon a time but the spark went out and they divorced because libby was embarrassed of his get rich quick schemes/infomercials. libby’s loss is the world’s gain

charles mcnider - in love with his nurse/assistant, myra mason, so there’s definitely something to be said about power dynamics (especially in the 1940s) and he does eventually get myra killed during a midnite adventure but. for a moment in time. They Were Very In Love. and i’m counting it as something considering who’s to follow

wes dodds - he & dian have that classic noir detective/girl friday dynamic and it’s fun to see someone as endlessly devoted to each other as they are & extra interesting that they’re one of the few couples from Back Then to never marry but rather opt to be life partners (not to mention the starman arc ‘sand and stars’ regrettably informs us their sex life is better than ever). there is, however, the matter of wes locking dian’s nephew in his basement and the insane insane age difference between them (spectre 92 tells us wes was attending socialite parties when dian was just a little girl)

rex tyler - well-meaning and deeply loving but there’s a chance wendi tyler did not, in fact, see her husband even once for the duration of their marriage. chronically absent. award-winning ability to miss birthdays and anniversaries

ted knight - great husband as far as doris knight & the rest of the world were concerned! now, yknow, if it weren’t for those pesky nights spent in sleazy motels with dinah drake after just about every mission for a year or so

alan scott - this is admittedly a little bit of a dilemma considering alan is gay & closeted and traumatised & angry about it but there’s no way of knowing What Might Have Been and how alan would act with a male partner (as i don’t think he’s ever had any experiences in the matter that’ve lasted longer than a night) so the fact of the matter is that his marriage to molly is a disaster and she’s unhappy enough about it to sell her soul to the literal devil TWICE. between his World Famous Anger Issues and the fact that alan smashes glasses in casual conversation with his best friend if his temper gets the best of him, this is a well deserved spot

#IM GLAD U LIKED THE ONE ABT THE TERRIBLE DADS IM LAUGHING #HOPE THIS IS GOOD TOO #anon #ask

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hopevalley · 4 years

Text

Season 8, Episode 2: Honestly, Elizabeth

I think I’ll do all my write-ups this year scene-by-scene. It’s easier to keep track of everything that happens in the episode that way, and I can write up thoughts while I’m watching the episode.

I’ll just jump right in!

Scene 1: Narration/Jack Jack

The first scene starts out with Elizabeth writing in her journal about the arrival of Lucas’s mother to town, and I think the writing here was actually polished up as to be concise and fairly decent. I didn’t mind seeing Jack staring at his father’s picture, but I think what would have made a much more compelling scene would have been for him to turn away from the picture and pick up a toy off of the ground and just start playing with it. Something symbolic of moving on, or at least of Jack’s lack of connection to his father at this age. While he’d certainly be curious when he gets older, at his current age he has no real reason to care.

Elizabeth waxing poetic about how strong and brave Jack was, and how her son embodies those same traits is…I don’t know. It came off a little silly to me—like it was trying just a little too hard to be meaningful.

—

Scene 2: Lucas check on Helen

I like that Lucas seems to care for his mother a lot, and that he wants to help her. I think he realizes there’s perhaps more to her visit than merely wanting to see Elizabeth, but isn’t willing to push for that kind of information. My guess is that they’re just not that emotionally close to one another.

—

Scene 3: The Crate of DOOM

Joseph from the railroad brings a delivery for Lee and in helping Joseph carry it, Lee hurts his back. This was a genuinely good scene. CALLCARSONCALLCARSONCALLCARSON. It also has the advantage of making everyone feel friendly and neighborlike. Elizabeth popping out of her house, Jesse just stopping by… It was nice.

—

Scene 4: Nathan and Elizabeth Talk

Opal’s dress was really cute in this scene, and Robert really is growing up fast! I’m glad Allie and Opal seem attached to him; the show feels more cohesive with its little friend groups and it’s been hard to really show that off since Cody left. Allie fills that void easily and I think gets better lines/dialogue/scenes as well. She gets treated like a character of the appropriate age.

Also, Nathan treating Robert respectfully is nice. It comes off like he recognizes Robert’s good intentions and genuine enthusiasm and treats him appropriately, too.

The little quip about Allie being interested in boys was cute (and not over-the-top), and I like that Nathan is the first to bring up the missed…dinner date. Elizabeth’s response is interesting to me; she does seem a little more enthusiastic, at least about how fun it would have been had she followed through on it. When Nathan suggests they could try it again, though, she clams up. I think what’s interesting about it is that she doesn’t look disgusted or unhappy with the idea, just…a tad uncomfortable—like she wants to say something but can’t/won’t. A pretty good scene.

—

Scene 5: Introducing Joseph Canfield

At this point in the episode I knew I’d love Joseph. He’s so wholesome and pleasant both in his demeanor and his offer to pray for Lee.

—

Scene 6: Nichols and Dimes

I really am enjoying Fiona’s interactions with Mike Hickam. Actually, I’m enjoying that Mike gets any lines at all. He’s a pretty good actor and deserving of the screentime. Also that man has a butt and they’re showing of in like, every other scene he’s in LOL. Fiona trying to explain the reason for the name of the shop is quirky without being too over-the-top I think. It works well enough and I think lends some more personality to her character.

This scene gave us some more low-key genuinely funny stuff with Jesse repeating “Nichol isn’t spelled that way, right?”

Henry’s surprise at the barber being a woman isn’t too over the top either. At this time, barbers would just about always be men, because not only did they handle haircuts and shaves, but it served as a gossip (and business, as Fiona mentioned in the last episode) center for all the men in the area AND the barber usually also treated things like toothaches and first aid if a doctor wasn’t around.

I admit her reaction to all the men running off was...a bit surprising. I figured her feelings would be hurt, but she literally just laughs it off, maybe just too excited at having her own business to continue to think about, you know, what will happen if she doesn’t get customers.

—

Scene 7: Joseph runs out of gas.

There isn’t much to say here, but when he walks back to town he sings “It Is Well with My Soul” which was always one of my favorite hymns. My pastor had his own piano arrangement of it and everything. I knew from this moment forward that I would defend him to the death.

—

Scene 8: At the clinic

This is probably not the most...accurate medical scene ever, but it wasn’t bad. The best part about it was actually Molly, though. It looks like she’s really thrown herself into working with Carson and she’s used to it and even enjoys it!

—

Scene 9:Nathan and Bill talk

The scene is super simple but I think it was excellently done. Nathan wants to adopt Allie and Bill thinks that’s a fine idea in theory, but in starting proceedings (court filings, public notices, et cetera) he could stir things up. It sounds like Bill and Nathan spoke about Dylan since Bill knows how Dylan found him (the newspaper article).

Bill mentions a fee and at first I thought this was going to be the start of a really sour joke about Bill being greedy or something, but to my surprise (AND IMMENSE RELIEF), they were just discussing it like a business transaction...which it is. Nathan trusts Bill to be fair with that... AND I LOVE IT.

Allie’s mother’s full name is Colleen Mayes Grant. Allie’s full name is Allison Mayes Parks. Would Parks also be Colleen’s full name if she were married to Dylan? Am I missing something here?

Anyway, Nathan and Bill then talk about the money that Nathan used to trap Dylan, and Nathan admits he got it from Lucas, which...surprises Bill.

“You asked Lucas?! You do love your niece.” Nathan is a little amused by it, but I think this is interesting. I mean, 1) Nathan asked Lucas in the first place, which is telling, but also, 2) Lucas loaned him the money without even asking what it was for. Maybe they are not on such bad terms after all, lol. ;)

Nathan points to a map and asks about some land, and Bill says he owns that land, and that he was thinking of building a cabin on it but he’s just not really that sure he wants to. Nathan asks if he’d be willing to sell and Bill (jokingly) asks, “How much of that money did you give back to Lucas?”

Good scene, wholesome scene. I genuinely enjoy watching these two interact. It almost reminds me of the older seasons when Bill and Frank and Jack would all scheme together; stuff like this just helps build up the characters a lot, and it helps the town feel...real.

—

Scene 10: Lucas and Elizabeth Chat

This was a short but nice scene. I think it’s clear Lucas is a bit worried about his mother and asks Elizabeth to visit her in the hopes that it might encourage her to talk to someone or feel better.

At first I thought this was perhaps a bit much, like...she barely knows the woman why would Helen even want a visit from Elizabeth? But then I thought...well, Lucas is probably thinking of the fact that Elizabeth has spoken with Helen now and again about her writing, so a visit from her would be expected since she’s in town.

I like Elizabeth’s honesty in admitting she was intimidated by Helen. “So she does bite!” Kind of a cute/silly scene. I liked it.

—

Scene 11: Rosemary and Elizabeth talk.

This was probably the second weakest scene in the episode. Rosemary just says hi and tells Elizabeth she can’t help with anything regarding Lee, and then Elizabeth says she’s off to visit Helen, and Rosemary says “Oh, the old saying...the way to an editor’s heart.”

Elizabeth replies with, “I don’t think that’ show that saying goes.”

I think they were trying for Funny here but it misses its mark and doesn’t really add anything to the episode. I’d have rather had an earnest word of encouragement from Rosemary.

—

Scene 12: Elizabeth visits Helen

There are a lot of things to like about this. Helen takes her job very seriously, and corrects Elizabeth (“book” vs. “manuscript”—it ain’t a book yet!). Helen comments on Elizabeth being undisciplined but this is an objectively true statement (whether Elizabeth likes it or not).

I think Helen is actually really understanding when Elizabeth blurts out that she was late with her first draft because, “I decided not to let my writing interfere with my life.” She’s pretty calm about it, and says maybe her trip was for nothing.

Elizabeth springs back and hurries to explain that while her writing means a lot to her, and she takes it seriously, it’s also not her main source of income. I was really worried that Helen was going to come off as this huge bitch hurting Poor Widdle Ewizabiff’s Feewings but I think she’s actually pretty great in this scene. She doesn’t come off as the bad guy, but neither does Elizabeth. In fact, I feel like both characters communicate quite cleanly and it seems Helen appreciates Elizabeth’s spunk, haha.

—

Scene 13: Henry and Lucas have a meeting

The writers straight up wanted to negate some of what happened last season, and I think that was a smart choice. There are some lines in this scene that I really enjoy a lot. “I like you, Henry. I don’t know why, but I do.” I think Lucas likes Henry because he’s been mostly up front with Lucas about his methods...which he does here, too.

“I’m willing to get my hands dirty.”

Henry’s proposal is that he will double the crude output in the first year he’s back as Lucas’s partner, and if he doesn’t manage it, he will walk away. However, if he is successful, he becomes majority owner at 60% and is allowed to make all business decisions.

This is a very good opportunity for Lucas, provided he trusts Henry can at least maintain current output. He loses nothing if Henry walks away and he loses hardly anything (in fact, he loses a bit of profit and a LOT of responsibility) if Henry manages it and stays on.

When asked why he had a change of heart, Henry says he “has his reasons.”

—

Scene 14: Joseph comes back to town + Fiona’s

This actually isn’t its own separate scene, but rather, the camera pans from the previous scene to Joseph walking into town.

Joseph stops Hickam about getting some gas, but Hickam is sent away to hold up his end of a bet while Jesse helps Joseph.

The camera then is in Fiona’s barbershop, so I’m counting these two scenes together. Hickam asks for a trim and she agrees to do it. He apologizes for running off earlier and she accepts his apology with grace and says she’s glad he came back. He tells her it was the right thing to do and she calls him out instantly for having accepted a bet from Jesse.

This is a pretty funny little joke, but the best part about it is actually how it ties Hickam and Jesse together. They’re around the same age and they could be friends; I like the implication. Some of the male friendships have suffered a bit in recent years so it’s nice to see those getting a splash of attention.

Anyway, Fiona doesn’t take offense and Hickam seems relieved.

—

Scene 15: Sergeant gets some pats

Sergeant is a good boy and so deserves some pats! The only thing I hate about this scene is the dialogue. Robert is like, a farm boy...and you’re telling me he’s never ridden a real horse? Please. This is in a time period where most of these kids would know how to ride a horse. He’s no larger a horse than any other horse in town! The bigger concern should be that Sergeant is an ex-mounted police horse, which means he needs a more experienced rider (and that certain signals could mean different things to Sergeant than they would mean for a farmhorse).

It’s still pretty cute overall, but I think they could have had the kids currying him or something instead. “We can start by patting him” seems a little silly when this horse has been patted by everyone in town 3 billion times by this point.

The camera then adjusts to the window of the saloon’s upstairs room where Helen is watching Elizabeth spend time with the kids.

She’s more or less smiling and watching Elizabeth and the kids, studying them. As predicted, she has already decided she likes Elizabeth.

—

Scene 16: Hickam narrowly avoids death

Or more like, he moves while Fiona is trying to cut his hair and she gets his ear with the scissors. He literally runs out of the barbershop, past Helen and Lucas who are now out for a walk, and straight to the clinic.

—

Scene 17: Rosemary talks to Elizabeth and the kids

This is a continuation of the last scene where the camera catches Rosemary from outside the clinic (as Hickam goes in) and follows her over to Elizabeth where she says hello (they are still with Sergeant but over by the church now).

I’m a little tired of these Cute Widdle Opal moments. She’s like, nine years old. The fake smiling and “oh my goodness!”ing is too much for me at this point. I probably hated this scene the most.

—

Scene 18: Lucas talks with his mother

Helen calls out the situation exactly for what it is: Elizabeth is the reason Lucas has settled in Hope Valley, and Lucas and Nathan are vying for Elizabeth’s hand. Lucas admits these are both true.

Just a nice little scene. Helen seems pretty normal and good here.

—

Scene 19: Elizabeth talks to Nathan

On her way out of the mercantile (with a cloth to clean Opal’s face) Elizabeth runs into Nathan who is on his way up to Bill’s land to check it out. She says he must be serious if he’s going in the middle of the day out to look at it, and he says he is. “I think it’s time I settle down.”

She walks down a step or two and turns after him as he’s about to go into the mercantile: “Nathan? When you’re back from your trip, perhaps we could get together?”

And he agrees to this, almost in a tone that’s like, he doesn’t want to seem too excited.

As soon as Nathan is in the store, Robert goes flying by on Sergeant with the worst posture I’ve ever seen.

Elizabeth steals Newton from Nathan and goes after Robert, catching up to him and dragging him back to town right in front of Jesse and Joseph.

Joseph is of course iMMEDIATELY like: “I want to live in this crazy place.”

This isn’t how I would write a scene like this, mostly because I would assume that Robert could ride a horse (and his posture later kind of says this...lol) and it’s really hard to film something like this without it Actually Being Dangerous (mostly due to the gravel in town—a horse could kick that into someone’s face and they’d be messed up, or they could slip in it)(also, the filming location doesn’t have a lot of Large Spaces where they can really let a horse gallop safely). I’d probably have a stunt double dashing off at an actual run if possible, and show Elizabeth catching up to Robert who has been thrown from the horse. He’s fine (landed in some prairie grass or something) but then it’s actually really scary.

Her “catching up” and “helping” just doesn’t work very well when it’s very clear these horses are moving at a leisurely pace.

But if you can use your imagination it wasn’t a bad scene.

—

Scene 20: Lee and Rosemary

It’s the next morning, and Rosemary helps Lee sit on the couch. Rosemary gives him his coffee but there’s no sugar in it (this is hard to believe; they’ve been married how long? She’s been making this every day for how many years?) and she boogies over to Elizabeth’s.

—

Scene 21: Rosemary and Elizabeth have a chat

Rosemary talks to Elizabeth about the chase after Robert and then to little Jack and there’s a little moment where she looks at Jack and talks about how her and Lee like hearing him laugh when the weather is nice and the windows are open. It was a nice touch.

Rosemary offers to babysit until Laura arrives.

It’s a nice scene but I’m a little tired of the babytalk for a child that is way older than they’re acting. This is a 2-3 year old child, not a baby who can’t talk.

—

Scene 22: Bill meets Joseph Canfield

Joseph came back to town to have another look around and consider buying the gas station. He mentions the church, and Bill says they don’t have a pastor right now because “he left to become a missionary.” I’m not sure which pastor they’re talking about here: Zeke or the guy before him, or even Frank? My guess is Zeke since they took the time to give him a name, and there’s no reason why Frank would do that when he’s been written away as finding his calling in mentoring/pastoring/caring for terminally ill children.

Joseph says he’s looking to settle down and would like it to be Hope Valley, which is....sudden. I’m not sure what the script could have said instead, but maybe if there was some kind of hint that his wife isn’t happy in their current situation? Or maybe that he’s been looking around and that he found Hope Valley when he wasn’t even looking—just doing his job.

It’s a hard sell either way. There’s a whole lot of nothing in this area, so it’s hard to imagine Hope Valley wouldn’t be on the map with a railroad stop...lol...

Joseph says he doesn’t want to build, so Bill says he knows a guy.

Good scene. I’m always happy when Bill gets normal interactions, and it seems like in this scene we’re meant to imagine that he is actually on his rounds (since Nathan is away).

—

Scene 23: Elizabeth and Helen edit...

Helen says “dour” in a way Elizabeth has never heard it said, and it sounds kind of clear that everything Helen says, Elizabeth just blanks out and can’t discuss reasonably.

“I’m just not used to writing this way.” You’re...not writing. You’re editing. There’s a difference. And Helen seems to be trying to get at the Author’s Intentions (“Would you describe this character as dour?”) to ensure that Elizabeth’s writing matches what she’s going for.

They’ve made it past ONE page at this point. They do share a chuckle over how slow their progress is, though, and I mean, as a writer that’s a whole entire mood, so it’s fine.

—

Scene 24: Henry’s cabin

For some reason Henry owns a cabin and Joseph, Bill, and Henry are checking it out. Bill is mostly snooping to find things wrong with it lol, which is very in character for him, considering Henry is (or at least was) the enemy.

Joseph decides to buy the place because it’s not too far from town and there’s room for the kids to play.

Boom he’s in.

Welcome Hope Valley, Joseph!

—

Scene 25: Robert’s Sorry + Helen’s Truth

Robert has atoned for his sins by cleaning all the stalls out or something. Helen and Elizabeth meet Robert on a walk. He’s atoned for his sins by cleaning the stables.

Helen and Elizabeth chat a bit, and Helen drops a bunch of Truth Bombs:

-Authors often feign indifference to the characters they create, or insist they are mere fabrications outside themselves.

-Elizabeth is honest with herself and with others, and honest in her writing.

-Most people are uncomfortable and afraid, and hide behind characters they’ve created for themselves.

She then says that she’s like that (kind of an awkward delivery line) and then instantly launches into saying she came to see Lucas and to see her, too, but if she’s being completely honest, she’s come because her husband has left her.

(Scene break for commercials)

Elizabeth runs after Helen and calls her “Mrs. Bouchard” but quickly corrects herself to call her “Helen” (NOW IT MAKES SENSE WHY HELEN DOESN’T WANT TO BE CALLED MRS. BOUCHARD!) and asks if she wants to talk about it.

“There’s really nothing to say. It’s not going to change anything.”

Lucas’s father is in London, supposedly, and as Lucas walks over to the two of them, Helen asks for Elizabeth to keep this just between them, as he doesn’t know yet.

I’m not sure where they’re going to go with this, or how they’re going to resolve it, but it’s possible this was just a misunderstanding (seems farfetched but hey, it’s Hallmark).

As an aside, the flowers they have out on display are all summer flowers. Does it matter? No. Am I pointing it out? Yes.

Lucas offers to take both women to dinner and Elizabeth says she isn’t able to go. I think she should have stated she had a prior engagement (so she didn’t appear to be rude), but Helen takes him up on the offer.

Walking away, Elizabeth runs into Laura, Emily, Anna, and Timmy, which was nice because all the mentions of Laura without actually seeing Laura made me worry she wasn’t on the show anymore, haha.

Laura isn’t with Jack because Rosemary wanted to watch him for the day. Elizabeth turns around and asks Lucas for his help with something.

—

Scene 26: The Surprise for Rosemary and Lee

Elizabeth comes over to collect Jack with a surprise: a nice dinner all premade, a bottle of wine, and some mood music. ;)

This is a wholesome and sweet scene. Elizabeth leaves with Jack and Lee struggles to his feet to dance with Rosemary.

—

Scene 27: The letter

Henry goes to the mercantile to see if there’s any mail and there IS...the letter he sent out last episode has been returned...opened.

Henry’s upset by this (he seems genuinely hurt) and asks Ned if he opened it. Ned says he didn’t, and Florence defends him by saying he would never do that. Henry leaves and Ned says he forgot to take care of something in the back and wishes Florence good night.

Very suspicious. I don’t think Ned opened the letter but I do think he read it. He looked a little upset himself...? Not sure what’s going on here. Could it involve a relative? Nora? A business proposition?

—

Scene 28: Florence and Molly

At the saloon, Florence and Molly talk about the letter, and Florence says she thinks the person who opened it was the person Henry sent it to.

Molly notices Bill laughing and having a good time with a woman she doesn’t know and stares at them. Florence points it out and says Molly must be bad-tempered because she’s hungry and suggests they order and eat. Molly gets up and marches right on over there and embarrasses Florence with her BS.

She mentions the chili in the cafe and then fakely says, “Oh nooo, I’m being rude,” and introduces herself to Helen.

Helen doesn’t shake her offered hand but does give her name. She’s extremely awkward and leaves in a hurry, with Florence on her heels.

Helen tells Bill he must have a “fan.”

Bill says he wasn’t aware of that.

The classic Bill Squint™.

—

Scene 29: Mike returns

Mike comes back to have his haircut finished. She says she’ll be more careful this time; he admits it’s his fault...and they both agree that they’re both to blame a little bit.

Clara and Faith drag their men in and insist on them getting haircuts/trims. I liked the scene with Fiona and Mike, but didn’t really care for the last bit as much. Mostly because everyone hates the idea of her cutting their hair and this is supposed to be funny, even to her? Like...I don’t know. It just falls flat for me.

—

Scene 30: Rosemary is a bad influence

Rosemary asks Elizabeth how the meeting went. They talk about the fact that Lucas and his mother are nothing alike and Rosemary says, “Well maybe he’s like his father.”

Elizabeth is like “Let’s hope not.”

And of course that gets the ball rolling. Before long, the truth is out: Helen’s husband left her.

Elizabeth really should have...shut her mouth lol. But at least Rosemary believes that’s a bad position for Elizabeth to be in.

Lee comes in with Jack wearing a little outfit...

And then the truth comes out that what’s in the crate is a LOT of coffee. 250lbs of it.

—

Scene 31: Bill and Molly Talk...sort-of.

Bill chases Molly out of the cafe and insists they talk about what happened the night before, and Molly says she made a fool of herself. Bill tries to figure things out by saying he’s been a bachelor for a long time (probably trying to ease into it by admitting he just hadn’t realized she was Interested because he’s not used to the whole thing, to take some pressure off you know?) and Molly stops him like, “Are you under the impression that I’m interested in you as a suitor?”

Bill is more or less like, well...yes (but I wasn’t alone in that thought).

Molly tells him she was curious about the woman with whom he was dining. “True, I have mentioned to Florence that it might be nice getting to know each other seeing as how we’ve lived in the same town for years...”

Bill: “Well, see? You are interested in me.”

Molly: “You flatter yourself.”

She then leaves.

Anyone who knows me will know why I don’t like this scene lol, but at least neither character is being made a fool of, here. Pretty sure Molly is both curious and jealous.

—

Scene 32: Henry’s tirade

I think they should have rerecorded this scene because it 100% sounds like Henry is drunk off his ass and not just angry. More punctuated words would have fixed this easily.

Anyway, Carson comes by the mercantile just in time to see Henry yelling at Ned and Florence about the letter (but specifically Ned). Henry sees Carson come in and leaves, but falls outside. His blood pressure is ridiculously high. Outside, the acting is fine and he sounds angry (but deflating).

“Sometimes what you do in between [birth and death] just isn’t enough.”

This makes me really curious about that leTTER... It almost has to be a personal matter: family, perhaps?

—

Scene 33: The Confession

Elizabeth runs into Nathan while she’s out with Sergeant and they talk about Bill’s land. Nathan’s very enthusiastic about the land and the idea of living there.

LOOK AT HIM.

This is probably the most animated we’ve seen him!

(I think this talk of land and building on it might be forcing her to think of Jack, by the way. They already have the profession in common and now the land/planning for the future thing, too? A future she never got to have with Jack? OOF.)

I think at this point she’s worried that he wants to do this FOR HER and the guilt is what prompts her to speak. She goes on to tell him that he means a lot to her, and so does Allie, but she thinks he’s looking for more than friendship.

He says he wasn’t trying to hide that, and she thanks him for his honesty. She goes to express that he wants more from her than she can give. He was shot that one time when she thought it had been him who died, and she can’t go through that for real, not again. She doesn’t want to lose him the way she lost Jack.

He says he wouldn’t let that happen and she gets (RIGHTFULLY!) upset because that isn’t something he can meaningfully promise, and it’s pretty insulting considering the way Jack died; he isn’t better than Jack, after all. Anything could happen.

So Nathan says that his solution, what makes his promise different, is that he would quit the Mounties.

And she says, “No!”

Then we get the lines:

Nathan: I know you feel the same way that I do.

Elizabeth: I can’t.

Nathan: Elizabeth, I’m in love with you!

Elizabeth leaves hurriedly on Sergeant and that’s the end of the episode.

—

I don’t want to end this without talking about the last scene a bit. I think some people might be a bit confused about it. I think she has feelings for Nathan and has been repressing them because it’s too scary a thing to consider. She wants to let the idea go but knew she couldn’t just cut things off without saying anything.

But how do you say something like that kindly? How do you do that without hurting feelings or looking stupid?

I feel like the talk about the land, as well as Nathan’s comment earlier in the episode about settling down, has forced Elizabeth to be honest with Nathan the way that she is honest in her writing, and she does this specifically because she doesn’t want Nathan to go making decisions based on feelings for, or a potential future with, her. It isn’t fair to Nathan or Allie.

For those of us who haven’t lost a spouse traumatically, I don’t think it’s easy to understand this specific brand of anxiety/fear, but this episode made it really clear that this is something she’s really struggling with. The heart wants what it wants, but it also feels fear sometimes (and in this case, rightfully so).

Nathan offering to quit was wonderful but I think it would frighten Elizabeth just as much to feel she’s the cause for someone giving up something they’re passionate about. I personally think she’s thinking too much of Jack when it comes to that. Sure, Nathan’s a Mountie, and sure, he likes his job and is good at it like Jack was, but I think for Nathan family and safety would always come first.

It didn’t come first for Bill. It didn’t come first for Jack. But it would for Nathan. I don’t think Elizabeth realizes this—that for Nathan this isn’t him giving up his passion for love (or to settle down). It’s settling down because he wants to make a life here for himself and doesn’t want to ever have to leave, a choice he won’t get if he stays with the Mounties

For Jack, the Mounties were a Calling, a lifelong passion.

For Nathan, they were a career he enjoyed.

I’m interested to see when this will be revealed in the story and how that will make Elizabeth feel. No matter what, it’s scary to be the person ‘forcing’ someone else to give up something big, in this case Nathan’s livelihood (in exchange for her peace of mind). I have some personal experience with this. In fact, when I was dating my (now-)husband for the first time, he wanted to move to be with me. We were young. He had a college picked out. He had a career path. I had a job doing physical labor and I was living at home. If he needed help, my family would be too poor to assist and we had no extra space for him to stay. I refused. We actually broke up over it. There’s just so much pressure on the person who isn’t giving something up: fear of feeling indebted to someone, fear of the relationship HAVING to work out (or it was a waste of everyone’s time and money)...

Anyway, this storyline could mean a lot to me if it’s done right, so...I hope it is. :)

—

Overall this was another enjoyable episode. I was shocked at the intensity of the ending, and pleasantly surprised by most of the rest of it. Fiona’s actually growing on me as a character (she’s made of sterner stuff than some of them). I’m definitely looking forward to next week and I hope you are too!

My only real criticism so far, other than the ones outlined above, is the sheer number of scenes. I think it might be...a bit much. Almost...scattered? But we’ll see how they do in future episodes.

Feel free to message me with any thoughts/opinions/et cetera. ♥

#when calls the heart #analysis and meta discussion #character studies and information #long post

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purplesurveys · 3 years

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1232

Did you make any money today? Not today, because it’s a weekend.

What was the highest place you've ever jumped from? I’m not too sure, actually. I tend to be cautious when it comes to jumping just because I always have this fear at the back of my head that I could possibly snap my legs in half upon landing lol.

Have you ever gone swimming in a river? I don’t think I have.

Is there something you really want to buy at the moment? I want a jumbo RJ doll but it’s quite expensive and not one of my priorities at the moment.

Would you ever consider culinary school? I want to learn how to cook but not passionate enough about it to enroll in culinary school altogether, so no.

What was the last souvenir someone got you? It’s been a while since anyone went anywhere...

Do you have a favorite remix of a song? I’ve never enjoyed remixes and just stick to original versions of songs. The one remix I’ll give a pass to is BTS’ Mic Drop with Steve Aoki just because that one includes a dance break that sounds really nice and gets me all hyped up.

Has the power gone out recently? Yeah, like two weeks ago. I was working from home then so it had been a huge bother, but fortunately I had been charging my devices all day and also had enough data on my phone so I was able to continue.

Do you like driving at night? It’s ok and actually pretty relaxing if it’s LATE late at night and there’s barely any cars. Driving in the evening during rush hour, on the other hand, is just fucking stressful.

What do you think is the most saddest sounding instrument? Depending on how it’s played, probably the piano or violin.

Do you really pay attention to the ratings on movies? Yes. It’s a pretty influential factor.

Have you ever snuck in to a theater/dance/bar etc? No.

If given the chance, would you go to Ireland? I mean, it’s not really on top of my bucket list but for the sake of travelling and experiencing a different place and culture I definitely would go to Ireland.

Are you afraid of standing on the edge of hills/skyscrapers/cliffs etc? I am scared but whenever I’m given the chance to do this I kind of scrap that fear first and live in the moment.

Do you have a favorite species of wild cat (tiger/lion/cougar etc)? No.

Do you have an absolute favorite name (boy or girl)? Alessandra, 120%. It is so beautiful-sounding, plus I love that you can use "Alessa" as a nickname. My Silent Hill obsession is quite thrilled by that, ha ha. < I love that name too, now that I think about it. For now, I think Olivia still tops my list.

Are you good at pronouncing foreign words? My English is alright.

When listening to music, do you usually tap your foot etc to the beat? I tap my fingers more than my foot.

Have you ever literally cried on a friend's shoulder? Yeah but they were also my significant other then, so I dunno if that counts. I’m not super into physical touch so this isn’t something I’d do towards a friend, no matter how close we are.

Would you ever consider being a DJ at a party if you were paid? Nah, I would suck.

Do strapless bras work for you? No, my boobs are too small.

Has anyone told you that they wanted to marry you/were planning on it/etc? No.

Do you feel comfortable enough to wear short shorts? Yeah, I just never really have the opportunity to wear them.

Have a favorite actor/actress from Old Hollywood? (Marilyn Munroe, etc) AUDREY HEPBURNNNNNNNNNN

What's your opinion on people who stretch their ears? They can do whatever they want lol. I’m personally not a fan of the look but that’s my own problem to deal with.

Do you think tattoos are expressive art or unattractive? Expressive.

What is your school mascot? None of the schools I attended have one.

Have you ever seen a bear in the wild? I have never seen a bear.

What's the book you're currently reading? Not reading anything at the moment.

Can you recall the most disturbing movie you've ever seen? Eraserhead. Requiem For A Dream is also stressful to watch, even on your 2nd or 45th rewatch.

Has anyone you know gotten mono? Possibly, but I can’t place names at the moment.

Have you ever picked an apple off the tree and eaten it? No. Aside from the fact that I don’t eat fruits, apple trees aren’t native here so I’ve never actually seen one.

Can you say yes/no in different languages? Oo/hindi, ne/ani.

Out of the traditional superheroes, which one is your favorite? I don’t like superheroes.

Ever peed in your pants after the age of 10? Not in my pants but my bed, but fortunately it just happened once.

Had any surgeries? What kind? I have not.

Ever told your parents you hated them? I had it written down on my journal when I was going through those rebellious puberty years, but it was only directed towards my mom because that had also been the peak of her emotionally/mentally abusive days. It’s funny because she snooped through my stuff then and saw the entry and ended up crying...and I didn’t even feel bad about it because 1) I meant what I wrote, and 2) she literally went through my shit. I still don’t feel bad about it.

Do you let your pets on your furniture? Yes they can get on the couch and my bed.

How do you feel about kettle cooked chips? I don’t really have an opinion lmao. If they are chips then they are going in my mouth.

How strong do you like your coffee? I like milky/creamy coffee best tbh. When it comes to how strong they are I don’t have a preference.

Would you rather see someone of the opposite sex naked or nicely dressed? Idk.

Would you ever consider visiting Texas? I have relatives based in San Antonio and we’re pretty close to that side of the family, so yeah.

If you could make a movie, what would it be about? I’ve never been one for creative writing.

If you were kicked out of your current residence whom would you call? My grandma or one of my aunts.

Do you want a boyfriend or girlfriend? Not at this point in my life.

Do you prefer broccoli or asparagus? Oooooohh I love both!

Was the last person you kissed attractive? Objectively yes, but I no longer feel the attraction I once held for her.

Are you racist at all? No.

Do you read creepypasta? If not, you should. No thanks.

Have you ever vandalized? Yeah some desks when I was in grade school.

Would you ever scuba dive in shark-infested waters if you had the chance? Most likely not. And by the way, they do not "infest" waters. That's their home. I hate that phrase so much. < This is a good point and I’d like to keep it here. Anywho, yeah I’m willing to do this but as far as I know they keep you in a cage when you go down in the water. I’d only do it if this was guaranteed lol.

Have you ever been drunk at work? Hungover, yes. Drunk while at work, hell no.

Have you ever hit a parked car with your car? No. My mom has done this with my parked car though -____- She had been backing up and I kept honking as she inched closer to my car, but she heeded me no mind until she finally hit me.

Have you ever slept on the floor with someone you like? We probably had but I don’t remember the details anymore.

Which do you prefer: french toast, bagels, or cereal? Bagels.

Do you prefer light or dark haired? Dark.

Have you ever read any of the Chicken Soup for the Soul books? Yes, I liked reading those in like grade school and high school.

Would you be prepared to do a job that you didn’t like, if it paid well? I haven’t been placed in that situation yet, so I’m not actually sure how I would handle it. Depends on how much the money is, I guess.

Do you think age is needed for maturity? No.

Do you believe the future is predetermined? I don’t think so.

What words are most comforting to you? Words of reassurance, like, “I’m just here,” “You don’t have to apologize.”

How important is money to you? It is generally pretty important to me and I’m usually good at saving...I’ve just hit a road bump the last few months because getting into K-Pop means wanting to get something out of every new merch drop hahahaha. I went alarmingly crazy from April to June, but I made a vow to calm down starting this July; and so far, aside from pre-ordering the new Memories of 2020 DVD and buying some merch from the pop-up store, I haven’t bought anything else.

Is there anything you want to last forever? Cold weather in the Philippines.

List three of your passions: Writing, food, and museums.

How old do you want to live to? Just because I’m competitive even until age, I want to make it to 100 lmao.

What kind of love do you value the most? Very comfortable platonic love. I highly value friendships where I can pretty much treat them like an SO hahaha.

If you could control one element, what would it be? I don’t care.

Do you prefer foxes or wolves? No preferences.

Could you ever deliver a baby? OMG no I would be terrible and would for sure bring more harm than good to the mother.

Do you think suits are sexy? Uh yeah.

Ever been called babe? Yeah.

How old is your youngest sibling? 18.

Who in your phone has a heart after their name? Angela.

Favorite boy’s name? I guess I have several preferences, but I dunno if I have favorite boy’s names. I like the sounds of Lucas, Jacob, Liam, and Mason.

Are your parents together, separated, divorced, never married, what? Married.

Do you go online every day? For sure.

What is the best quality in the last guy you kissed? I’ve never kissed a guy.

What do you usually do during a kiss? Depends on how passionate it is? < Yeah.

Do you have an older brother? Technically no, but I have a cousin that I pretty much see as one.

You’re offered free tickets to a Justin Bieber concert. What do you do? I love Biebs, but I would probably sell them. Some extra money is always good hahaha.

What’s the genre of the current song you’re listening to? K-Pop, R&B.

Would you ever keep your favorite animal as a pet? Yeah, I already have two of them.

Would you ever sell your soul? Erm, I guess not.

#survey #surveys

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