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kerie-prince · 3 years

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We're Worlds Apart (4)

Draco Malfoy x American No-Maj!reader

series m.list | general m.list | previous chp

warnings: a curse word if you squint, sassy Draco

summary: Draco Malfoy is a pureblood wizard. Magic runs through his veins and has been since his birth. You're a Wiccan No-Maj; a non-magical being with ordinary blood through your veins, but practices what you call magick. And this very practice upsets your neighbor.

a/n: a day late bc i got distracted watching game of thrones lmao i have adhd so i honestly should've known better than to have something so attention demanding in front of me :P

(gif cred)

Three more days.

Three more days until your brother and his girlfriend come to your Buffalo suburban home to spend Thanksgiving. You came home from work on a better day than the ones from the week before, only to walk inside and was almost convinced you entered the wrong house.

Your mother took the liberty of decorating your house while you were gone. The place looked like an IKEA catalogue. Green and cream colored throw pillows were on your black leather couch, your small dining table had a fall-themed centerpiece and a blood orange table cloth. New dining chairs, all of them matched, unlike the mismatched ones you had before. And that god-forsaken ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ wooden sign hung in your kitchen. That damn thing is leaving first thing in the morning.

“Ma, what the hell did you do to my house?” The more you looked, you groaned at what you saw. Your grandmother’s tapestry was no longer hanging at its original place, now hung hidden behind the tv. “Oh, don’t give me any grief about it. Y/B/N is coming and I don’t want the place looking like the Spirit store.”

You knew you couldn't really fight her on this. It would be more frustrating to have to argue and still not be able to put everything back to how it was until she left. Taking a deep breath, you walked yourself to your room to get changed into comfortable clothes and light some sage for your nerves.

Three more days.

—

One more week.

In a week's time, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott were to come to New York to spend the month of December with Draco and to say he was excited was an understatement.

He was excited, nervous, and many other feelings that he was too stressed to name. The guest room was prepared for the two of them to share, all he had to do was figure out what to do with them while they were here. He had taken a week off and had no idea what to do. He still hadn’t gone around the city he lived in. He could always ask his friends at Saint Marie but for some reason, he was too shy to.

He could always ask Mrs. Charles for recommendations on what to do. She was a sweet muggle neighbor that he came to like as well as her husband. He could also ask you, but it’s been over a week since he spoke to you in your yards. From glimpses into your window, you seemed so exhausted. Not that he really cared, but he remembered that you would try to get along better and so far, all he’s done was give a nod towards your direction when he walked into his home as you were leaving yours.

His bedroom blinds were always closed now because he knew that if he were to see you doing your… whatever you do in your room just once, he’d change his mind about the whole thing. It still bothered him, but not as bad as it did when he first saw it.

Draco’s stomach growled as he sat on his couch, bringing him out of his thoughts and walked over to the kitchen. To his despair, his pantry, cabinets, and fridge were all empty. Guess I’ll have to grab something. He pondered on what he was in the mood for as he ran out the door. Draco figured he'd just figure it out as he drove around the streets downtown.

Since moving to America, he found so many new cuisines than he had ever imagined. He usually always ate at home, and if his family ever ate outside of home they usually went to the finest restaurants in France. Of course, they were all wizard-owned restaurants. But in New York, he’s been introduced to new things. For one, he had his first ever hamburger with Blaine. Ashley took him to a Chinese restaurant, and Ian bought Draco a traditional New York pizza.

Yes, all these things existed in London. Maybe not so much New York-style pizza, but there was pizza. Draco, however, never had the opportunity to try any of these foods. Lucius was extremely strict about eating out. It was never necessary considering he could afford the best quality foods to be made at home. When they did eat at restaurants in France, it was only because a higher official at the Ministry had invited them for a night out.

Around the streets, the bright lights of buildings and restaurants lit the streets as he drove around them. Draco turned into a street he hadn’t been into yet in hopes to find something else he could find to try. There were a couple places he hadn’t been into; a Greek restaurant, a Brazillian one, and a couple shops. There was one shop close to the end of the street. It was sandwiched between two boutiques and had a neon green and purple sign in the front. Soul Beads. In front of the building was a man with a weird sign in one hand and an even weirder thing that seemed to have made his voice louder in the other. Draco couldn’t make of the rubbish he was yelling into the thing from inside his car.

Draco pulled to the curb to walk around the street and check out the restaurants. A bell jingle caught his attention, turning around to see one person he didn’t really expect to see here. “Draco?” your face showed the same expression as his. He watched as you closed the door to Soul Beads and walked up to him. The weird man that stood in front of the store yelled out, “DON’T TALK TO HER, THIS BITCH HERE WORKS FOR THE DEVIL!”

“Do you know him?” Draco asks with a quirked eyebrow. The stranger kept yelling profanities at you but Draco saw how you couldn’t be bothered by it. “He does this every couple weeks. What brings you out here?” Your hands were stuffed tightly in your pockets for warmth.

“Do you own the street? Can I not be here?” he asked sarcastically. You faced him with a deadpan look as to ask him again without having to say the words to him. Or call him a smartass. Which he is. With a roll of his eyes, he continued, “I’m looking for something to eat but I’ve never been to these places before.”

“Ah,” you started, “Well I don’t know what kind of stuff you’re used to, but I suggest the Greek restaurant right across. Over-priced, but the best gyros you’ll ever have in Buffalo.”

“It’s yee-roh, not jahy-row.” Draco corrected. He couldn’t tell if you were irritated or confused after he said that. Probably both.

“You know Greek?” you asked.

“I studied it when I was a child. My tutor showed me the word once and hit my hand when I had mispronounced it. Learned the hard way to never do that again,” flashbacks to the older woman teaching him the language cursed his mind for a few seconds.

His stomach growled even louder now in the silence between them. Draco blushed in embarrassment, shifting around to look away so you wouldn’t see. You slightly chuckled and tapped his shoulder. “Come on, neighbor’s treat.” And you walked onto the busy street.

This bloody woman is crazy to be crossing a busy street he thought as he rushed to follow you across the street. He got scared as a car got too close and ran to the safety of the sidewalk. “You’re gonna get yourself bloody killed one of these days like that,” he scolded. “If you’re gonna live in New York, you’re gonna have to deal with annoying pedestrians and sometimes be an annoying pedestrian. Be glad you don’t live in Manhattan, they’re worse. A person could be hit by a car and he’d just get on up and keep walking.” you informed.

Draco would be lying to himself if he said that didn’t spook him a little. Sure, he’s seen a few students get hexed, some by him, but they’d never just dealt with it and continued walking in the halls. They’d either have to hope their friends knew the counter curse or they’d end up in the hospital wing and had Madam Pomfrey help them back to normal. These muggles really are just… strange.

The restaurant looked old and desperately needed a remodel but by Merlin, it smelled amazing. “Now, are you getting a yee-roh sandwich or are you getting something else?” you mocked his previous correction with a playful roll of your eyes. Draco looked at the menu but it didn’t matter as he didn’t know the first thing about Greek food. What the hell did my father force me to take lessons for? “Do you want me to just order for you?” you asked as he kept browsing for too long. There were only 12 things on the menu but it still confused him.

He held back a snarl as he agreed to your help. He stood aside as you ordered and waited until it sounded like you were done, then headed up to the window to pay. “Oh, you don’t have to. I insisted I would pay,” you tried to push his hand away and reach for your credit card but he proceeded to hand the money to the cashier. “It’s nothing.”

“Here or to-go?” the lady asked with a thick New York accent. The two of you just looked at each other waiting for someone to say something. “Do you want to just-”

“Eat it here?” He looked at the small space and saw only one unoccupied table by the window. One of two tables. No longer growling, his stomach was shaking nearly violently, indicating that he can’t wait any longer. It was a strange feeling to be starving. Never had he ever had to wait for food at Malfoy Manor nor at Hogwarts. Whether it was house elves or first years, someone always ran to get him food with a snap of his fingers. “Yeah, here’s fine.”

The lady handed your plates to you as he went to claim the small table before someone else did. He looked around the space with a slight disgusted look. It’s not that it was run by muggles, but just because the place looks so old and kind of dirty. Even the house elves at the Manor lived in better conditions. The corner he sat in made him feel slightly claustrophobic. How do they sit and enjoy anything like this?

You sat the food on the table and shook your jacket off on to the chair. Draco watched as you placed the plates as neatly in front of you both. He couldn’t help but notice the rings that covered most of your fingers. Some were simple silver bands, some bronze bands, and some looked like wire that had a wrapped, colorful rock in the center. They were mismatched but coordinated at the same time. If that made any actual sense.

You started some simple small-talk, “So, what brings you all the way out here?”

“I got a better job opportunity,” Draco responded. His voice sounded uninterested, and his eyes stared at the plate. It had three pieces of meat on a bed of white rice, a small salad and a little dipping bowl of some white sauce. He dipped the meat into the sauce and as he tasted it, he nearly groaned in content. The flavors danced around his mouth and he had to hold himself back from devouring the whole plate in a matter of seconds.

He could feel you staring at him but chose not to look up to see judgement in your eyes. Whether it was with amusement or not. The food was so good and he would most definitely order another one to-go on his way out for his lunch break tomorrow. I’m definitely bringing Blaise and Theo here.

“What kind of job do you do?” Draco stopped chewing his food and swallowed nervously. He should’ve expected this kind of question sooner or later, but here he was sitting in silence trying to figure out what to say. He couldn’t just tell you that he’s a Healer because then that would lead to more questions and that’d be more answers he couldn’t give you. “What, you don’t wanna tell me?” you furrowed your eyebrows at him as he continued his silence.

Finally, the word popped in his mind, “I’m a doctor.” Hopefully that ends that conversation.

“That’s cool, what kind of doctor are you?” Shit. There’s more than one kind?

“Uh, I work with people who come into the hospital with major injuries like a broken arm and such,” Draco stuttered.

“So, an emergency room doctor. You work in the ER then,” you concluded with a hand over your mouth as you chewed. “Y-yeah, that.” Draco tried not to sound suspicious. “What about you?”

You cleared your throat, drank some of your soda and pointed out the window, “You see that store over there? Soul Beads? That’s my store.” It was weird how coincidental it was that of all streets to drive into and of all people to run into, he ran into you coming out of your personally owned store. Looking back at you, he saw your face relax and smile at the building. “What do you sell? I’m assuming it’s not food seeing as you didn’t invite me in.”

Now it was time for you to stutter, “Oh, just candles and stuff. Nothing too flashy.” You poked at your food and took small bites of it. There was an awkward silence between you two for about ten minutes before you started the conversation before, “Assuming you don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, will you just be working that day?” Draco didn’t know much about the holiday, only that he was getting paid more that day.

“Yeah, I’ll be at the hospital for the night. Probably until four in the morning.”

“Well that sucks. You’ll miss out on the greatest American tradition that is Black Friday,” you chuckled.

“What’s that?” Yet another thing Draco didn’t understand.

“Black Friday is when people fight to the death for a discount on things like appliances and tvs. It’s quite amusing to watch,” you slightly exaggerated. Keyword slightly. Draco had wide eyes as he heard the description. “I’m sorry, to the death?”

With that, you laughed so hard you placed one hand flat against your chest and the other held the table with a tight grip as if you were to fall from your seat. He then realized you actually didn’t mean to the literal death and mentally scolded himself for being so gullible. You continued laughing and he rolled his eyes before chuckling to himself. You leaned back up and wiped some tears underneath your eyes, “Oh my god, I needed that laugh.”

A shiver went up Draco’s spine once he caught a glimpse of your smile. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you smile at all. Before your little argument, you would smile towards him and all the other neighbors all the time. But this never happened before. He looked away from your eyes and tried to find anything else to look at. Tilting his head up, he saw an air conditioning unit. Oh, that’s why.

Small talk ended there with a clear of his throat and proposed to go home. Draco saw how you looked a little disappointed and forced a small, kind smile on your face, “Yeah, it’s getting kinda late and I don’t want to keep my mother waiting. God knows what she’s done to my house while I was gone.” He wasn’t going to keep pressing on the matter as he figured they still weren’t close enough for that. One dinner didn’t make them friends in his book. It wasn’t terrible, though. Maybe he would do it again.

Walking to their own cars, she said “See you around, neighbor,” and got into her car and drove off. He just nodded his head as he always did and drove off as well. They arrived home at the same time and walked inside without looking at each other, thinking that it would just be weird to keep saying goodbye.

—

It was finally Thanksgiving, and Y/B/N and Stephanie were going to be over around three in the afternoon. Your mother was more of a pain than usual, waking you up at six in the morning to do last minute cleaning, grocery shopping, and starting on roasting the ham. The loud argument over ham or turkey in the grocery store the week before lasted for an embarrassing two hours after your mother caved and let you pick the main entree for dinner.

Once you got an hour to yourself, you went to your closet in the hall and grabbed a small glass jar then walked to your backyard for some lavender. You walked to the kitchen for a stick of cinnamon, placed the items on the kitchen counter and walked quickly to your room for something small. Your eyes found a loose ribbon on the floor and grabbed it then went back to the kitchen.

You put all the items into the jar and browsed the kitchen for one more thing. There was a bouquet of flowers on the dining table that your mother bought. Perfect. You grabbed a couple flowers and took the petals to mix in the jar. Once you were done, you chanted to yourself three times:

“Goddess, please take the negativity out of this kitchen.

Replace it with positivity and love. So mote it be.”

You heard your mother waking up from her nap from the guest room and ran into the kitchen to hide the jar somewhere she couldn’t see it. The spell can’t exactly work if she sees something to nag about. She walks in the kitchen and sees you looking suspicious.

She looks at you with squinted eyes - mainly because she had just woken up - but said, “I’m not gonna ask what you’re up to. Can you make the potato salad? I like the way you make it better.” You silently agreed as you looked for the things in the fridge and grabbed a large bowl to mix it in. Your mother walks up to one of the cabinets to grab a pot to boil the potatoes with, only to find the thing you tried to hide. “What’s this, honey?”

You stammered over your words trying to find an explanation before she cut you off, “It’s pretty with all the things in there. You should keep it out.” She placed it beside a photo on the countertop and walked away to fill the pot with water. You were surprised she didn’t ask any further questions. You continued cooking and had a hopeful smile on your face. Maybe it won’t be so bad tonight.

The doorbell rang and you both looked at the clock on the wall. It read 1:55 and you looked at each other in confusion. “Y/B/N must be early,” your mother guessed and went to the door to let him in. The greeting was loud as she greeted him in. You could hear your little brother’s laugh with enthusiasm as he walked into your kitchen, “What’s up, big sis?”

You placed the utensils down and ran up to him with your arms up, “I’ve missed you too, baby brother.” He was much taller than you as he picked you up and hugged you tightly. You slightly swung your legs to give him the signal to let you go. He got his height from your dad, leaving you short thanks to your mother. Your brother had a big smile on his face and you reciprocated the smile. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen each other.

“Oh, lemme introduce you. Steph, c’mere!” He looked over his shoulder and called for the special guest. A beautiful woman with long, chocolate brown hair and doe blue eyes walked next to Y/B/N. “It’s so nice to meet you, I’m Stephanie.” She held her hand out causing you to quickly wipe your hands on your apron. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

“Y/B/N has told me so much about you. I was so nervous to meet you,” Stephanie admitted with a slight blush on her cheeks. “I wonder what this dummy told you. I bet you I can tell you more embarrassing stories about him,” you jabbed his arm.

“That’s not fair, I didn’t say anything all that bad. You’ll hex me or some shit,” he had his hands up in defense.

“Y/B/N!” Your eyes widened and you laughed nervously, “Don’t listen to him, he’s an idiot.”

Stephanie looked back and forth at the two of you and finally settled on you, waving a hand, “Oh no, that’s okay. I practice, too.” Wait, what? It seemed your mother thought the same exact thing, only out loud. “Yeah, Stephanie also does the same thing you do. Crazy, right?”

Your mother stood shocked before them, not saying anything. Your brother had a smile that wasn’t exactly fitting the situation. Stephanie had a kind smile, and although you were visibly surprised that your little brother’s girlfriend was, of all things, also a Wiccan, you were laughing inside at your mother.

This is gonna be the most interesting Thanksgiving ever.

—

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brideofcthulhu10 · 4 years

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Behold another Lost Boys holiday special! It was between this and Valentine’s day, but honestly I love writing Christmas specials, its such a cozy time despite the high suicide rates, but lets not get into that. A BIG SHOUT OUT TO @imlostinsantacarla FOR HELPING ME EDIT MY FINAL DRAFT!

Fun Fact! My husband, David (yes, that is actually his name) actually does have the bah humbug hat I mention in the head canons. He’s a heavy metal goth so when I found it at the store I had to get it for him. And you just know if our David found that, he wouldn’t be able to resist it!

Christmas with the Boys

Alright, so the whole touchy, feely and mushy feelings that surround even the topic of Christmas time is not something any of the boys will ever openly admit to enjoying. After all, they see themselves as these bad ass brutal killers who thrive off of death instead of holding hands and caroling with the goodie goodies of this coastal town.

Yet, it's challenging for them not to get sucked into the glitz and glam of the holiday season. Everything is a big deal in Santa Carla. Dia De Los Muertos, Halloween, Thanksgiving- everything! But especially Christmas.

Christmas in Santa Carla dwarfs the frenzy craze of Halloween. The entirety of the boardwalk is decked out with red and green lights that are tightly wound around palm trees, red bulbous bows are wrapped tightly around street lamps, the reds and whites of velvety fabric swirl down the posts, creating the effect of candy canes. All the store windows are painted to appear frosted, or covered with painted snowmen whilst several rooftops are covered with white felt in which mimics the texture and sight of snow. Even the boats in the harbour are all extravagantly decorated in a sea of lights that parade around brightly at night in every color imaginable.

Between the dates of the 30th of November all the way to the 24th of December the city of Santa Carla hosts a plethora of wondrous events in it's annual Holiday Festival. Large green, white and red kiosks are erected, selling a wide range of baubles and treats, from delectable chocolate coated rice krispy Santa Clauses, elf candy apples caked in a plethora of dark chocolate and peppermint, to a variety of Holiday hats, masks and even hand made costumes by the many local artists. Even hand carved candles in wondrous scents of pine, mint, or spice.

Currently, David possesses a black fur Santa hat which he acquired on a night out that boasts the words "Bah Humbug" proudly sewn over the front. It's the only holiday attire he'll even humor. Last time Marko attempted to place reindeer antlers on his head, David had set them on fire roasting atop a pan of chestnuts. Now it's not to say that he's a grinch persay. Rather, the complex and intense emotions that come hand in hand with Christmas can leave him perpetually indifferent at best, disdainful at worst. The whole occasion leaves him displeased. After all, he was an orphan who had been almost eagerly abandoned by his hooker mother left to fend for himself from the beginning, and of course never met his father. Even she could not identify which of her many clients may have been responsible. Most of his mortal life he had lived as a street rat, barely making ends meet by picking the pockets of tourists and Santa Carla citizens oblivious to the true dangers of the lower side of town. The rich and uppity classes who often snubbed their entitled noses his way would never suspect as he lurks between alleyways, leaving them cornered at knife point. It was scarce that he ever did see a kind face in the sea of those who had little interest for anyone that was not themselves. Back then it was rather uncommon for anyone to step outside their own little lives, which led to most interactions, outside of the other boys, having been met with great hostility, thus he had learned to be just as equally hostile in turn. Even the mere thought of anyone suddenly dawning a false kindness due to a certain time of year simply agitated David. It rattled him to the very core in a way very few other things did. Why bother with the lies? Couldn't people just face the very basic fact that they weren't nearly as charitable as they often deemed themselves to be? I mean, the young man had seen firsthand a family having previously snubbed a dirty homeless man with appalled disdain at the sight of his muddied clothes and dirt stained skin, only to then begin volunteering at a soup kitchen to purge whatever guilt they carried on their conscience once the holiday season began. The whole ordeal was pitiful! Nevertheless, - more so for Paul and Marko's sakes than his own -, he did humor these traditions amongst the holiday's festivities. Ruining a good time just wasn't his style. Unless they started fucking singing.

Most traditions David could tolerate, some he even enjoyed slightly; although he would never be caught dead admitting something as embarrassing as that! However, he just couldn't stand Christmas carols! They were the bain to his immortal existence. The repetitive nature of these overly cheery jingles left him covering his ears lest they nest in his brain leaving him humming the same damn melody for weeks. This was the case because the dynamic duo of dumbasses were well aware of his hatred for Rudolph the Red Nosed fuckin' roadkill! Stupid red nosed abomination.

“OOOOOOH-,” Paul begins with cheerful mischief.

“Don’t. You. Fucking. Dare.” David seethes through tightly clenched teeth, eyes screwed shut in indignance.

Paul hesitates. He looks at Marko. Marko looks at Paul. Wicked grins of agreement spread wide like wildfire across their faces as their master plan comes into play. Full throttle. What’s more fun than annoying the shit out of David? One on the left, the other on the opposite side of the cave on the right. This was nothing but Divine perfection if you asked the two troublesome vampires.

“OOOOOH DASHING THROUGH THE SNOW!” Paul belted out at full volume.

“IN A ONE HORSE OPEN SLEIGH!” Marko followed in suit, the widest eerie grin plastered on his face.

“OVER THE HILLS WE GOOOO” Paul howled enthusiastically.

“I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU BOTH!” David's voice hit a whole new octave it had never in all his life so far. All the while Dwayne had opted to vacate the room lest he be caught in the middle of the escalating madness with Laddie in tow. He loved these guys, but not enough to dive head first into their fuckery.

Paul thrives during the Christmas holidays! How could he not? The food, the punk rock covers of Christmas songs, the absolute babes prancing around the town in Santa hats under mistletoe?! He loved it all! You can find him sneaking under mistletoe with many sweet honeys on a constant basis, regardless of whether or not he's acquainted with them. Most do roll their eyes or laugh it off, but every once in a blue moon the guy will get a little lovin' from a beach babe in the Yuletide mood. What else could he ask for? You can bet he’ll run into the woods December first, and quite literally RIP a pine tree out of the ground to bring home like a wee carrot being plucked from the ground. The bigger the better! He may even drag Dwayne or Marko along with him if it's too big for him to carry himself. And all the boozy drinks he can concoct up? This boy is in his element! Mulled wine, spiked eggnog, candy cane vodka, butterscotch bourbon hot chocolate?! Yes! David straight up refuses to try anything that Paul creates himself (remember the concoction he made in Max's kitchen? Those poor goldfish....) which is also another reason why he has Dwayne help him. Or rather, the other boys insist the most responsible of them monitors the blonde lest he poison them with some sickly brew. That, and the fact that Dwayne's the least likely out of all of them to blow up the damn kitchen!

Dwayne is indeed the designated cook during the holiday rush, albeit a field even he tends to struggle. Avoiding the kitchen catching aflame, perfecting his craft lest he blow up the stove, leaving only a pile of ash in its wake. As previously mentioned, ever since the dreadful chain of events that lead to the unfortunate destruction of Max's kitchen, this raven haired vampire has attempted his hand at learning to use a stove properly: Although he often finds himself forgetting ingredients either in the midst of cooking or after the final product is done and he's taken a big bite.

“Shit! I forgot the milk and eggs!” Dwayne grumbled with a mouthful of dry crumbs, a true disgrace of a cookie.

Paul always gives him crap for it of course.

“Oooh I just thought you were going for a sandy, dusty dry cookie kinda thing.”

"Yeah man, these taste like ass!" Marko would cough out in midst of choking.

"And what, like you dumbasses could do any better," Dwayne retorts with a huff. Only Star manages to have any manners when testing his failed baking endeavors.

"Well I mean, the taste isn't that bad. Just a little dry is all."

"At least Marko wouldn't be choking to death." David would mutter from the darkest corner of the room, a little late in the conversation.

In all honesty, Dwayne's biggest motivation when it came to improving his skills was obviously Laddie. The kid never got much of a Christmas whilst living with his mom, so now that he was with the boys, he wanted to ensure that Christmas's were something that Laddie would remember for all eternity. Though granted, it is quite the mess when he was helping in the kitchen. But when the mini vamp grins from ear to ear whilst coated in flour and rapidly stirring an overflowing bowl of chunky cookie dough--the sight is too freaking cute!

Since Laddie joined the boys, they participate in Secret Santa every single year, which definitely includes Paul bursting through the entrance of the hotel as Santa on Christmas day. We won't talk about the fact that each year he almost falls flat on his face and swears, ruining the surprise for the kid.

"Santa where are your reindeer," he'd question, to which Santa Paul scoffs

"Pff, reindeer, I don't need any fucki- Ow," cut off by a firm and covert kick to the shin from Star, Paul quickly changes his response. "Oh! Ho ho, well, you see little boy, Santa can fly too! On his, uh, uhm… magic motorcycle! Yeah, that!"

But it's okay because Laddie already KNEW (he figured it out a year or two ago after Paul's beard fell off not once, but three times), he just doesn't have the heart to tell any of them because, well Paul really gets into it. And he knows the others are playing along for his sake. But to be fair, Laddie would have to be pretty dumb to believe it was Santa. I mean, the beard Paul's wearing is hanging half off his face by this point! But anyway, just like Paul's style, the entirety of the goody two shoes schpiel is thrown out the window, replaced with sleeves that have been ripped off, muddy boots, spiked bracelets and his Metallica shirt in full view beneath his flared red coat. He calls this BIKER CLAUS!

Laddie is not a squasher of traditions! But there was the one time that David had to intervene when Paul and Dwayne thought it would be great to use Laddie as the star at the top of the tree. David practically had a heart attack. Well, that's impossible but it still felt like he was having one!

“Ho ho ho! Now, don’t be a bitch, little David or Santa will have to give you coal.” Paul stated mockingly to David, brows furrowed.

“Well, Santa,” David scolds, a wry smile developing on his face when setting down the eight year old now off to shake his presents beneath their behemoth of a tree. “You best be careful. You never know what's in those milk and cookies, hm?”

Each year Marko buys bird toys for the pigeons in the hotel. Well, buy is probably the wrong word. More like he liberates the stores of their stock. And then for the next six months, David has to hear the agonizing jingle of bells. David almost roasted one pigeon in particular that kept flying over him to drop the ball with a bell in it on his head. That was Paul's entertainment for the next five hours, hell, he'd try to find it if the bird lost it and give it back. Marko defends the pigeon. Between running through stores buying up surprises for his friends, he's helping Paul throw out decorations for the cave. The dollar store has some surprisingly unexpected treasures, allowing him to deck the fucking halls to the max. Tinsel here, ornaments there, tiny light up trees to hide around the caves, a butt ton of cinnamon pine cones which he ends up throwing back and forth with Paul.

And Paul often steals his gifts or goes dumpster diving for any hidden gems. He forgets to take the tags off of them the majority of the time, which is always an indicator whether or not its new. Any time Star asks where he got them from he refuses to answer. Just gets up and walks away. But for David's gift? Well this lucky bastard has found coal in the dumpster and chucks it to David when he's not looking and he sighs deeply in disappointment because this is the third year Paul has done this.

"Huh? What? Who did that? Wasn't me. Somebody's throwing stuff."

Other than that he'll find a fat bag of charcoal and just tape the name David on it. David is certainly not amused. Dwayne will actually try to figure out what the others want, and has the sense to save the money taken from their previous meals. After all, they're dead, they wouldn't have much use for it anyway. He's not about to waste his hypnosis on some poor cashier. That would be a waste of time in his eyes.

When Christmas did arrive the tree was piled with mysterious boxes crudely mashed and taped together with bows and ribbons underneath it. It's obvious which ones are from Star since those gifts are wrapped in neatly pressed paper, wound tight beneath curled ribbons that remind the boys of her hair. Marko often goes on a food run rather than allow them all to be subjected to a potentially charred turkey, no offense to Dwayne of course. So, with a table covered from end to end with copious bowls of gravy, potatoes, candied sweet potatoes, a beast of a turkey in the center packed to the brim with cornbread stuffing, the boys cram into their chairs knocking back beers and spiked cider. Keeping to their own traditions, after fattening up, they gather around the tree and play card games, just as they had over eighty years ago on that frigid night. David still slays them in poker, and Marko is an utter dark horse when it comes to blackjack. Paul insists they try Go Fish. No one ever wants to play Go Fish. Closer towards the end of the night Dwayne will slip away to Jasper's shrine and bring him a fresh glass of rum as well as unwrapping what he got him that year. While Dwayne is there, the other boys will join him - omitting Star and Laddie left unaware of the Lost Boy they'd never met - in celebrating the last hour or so of the Holiday season with their fallen comrade.

Although Christmas time is often about uncomfortable mushy moments and emotions that create deep, unfamiliar times for David. The entire ordeal becomes that for everyone of the boys and Star. But God forbid anyone who even mentions it! I mean, it's kinda obvious though considering he's spending it with the people he always called family, knee deep in traditions that are sentimental to himself and the boys. There's a fluster of emotions running rampant during this particular Holiday Season, and although the blonde brooding vampire decides to squint at it with skepticism he savors these moments, knowing like Jasper, it could all be swept away with a single ray of light or the foolish hand of a hunter. So as they sit, drunk, full, and laughing beside Jasper's grave he can't help but smile at the sentimentality of it all. Christmas is a pain in the ass, but… it's a pain he'll gladly sit through for his brothers.

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osita-iza · 3 years

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Want: Chapter 1

After high school, you’re an adult. And when you’re an adult, life gets really confusing (and depressing). You’re reminded again of how confusing it is as you head back home for the first winter break from university, spending time with people from high school once again.

The most confusing is your ex-boyfriend, Oikawa Tooru. Because you still couldn’t answer the question on everyone’s minds: Why the hell did you break up with him?

At least you have your best friends, Kuroo and Kenma. Right?

Pairing: Oikawa x gn!reader x Kenma

Genre: Existential angst, fluff later on

Word Count: 3,353

There were a lot of things people knew about you. If someone had surveyed your high school class, they would have all agreed on two things about you:

Your best friends, Kenma and Kuroo would always be a part of your life. Despite them going to a different school, you three seemed to always know everything about each other’s lives.

You and Oikawa were going to be the high school sweetheart story from your class. You were going to make it. Never any fights, jealousy, or possessiveness. A match made in heaven.

Those two facts were indisputable.

And that was why, on the first winter break after graduation, everyone was shocked to find out that Oikawa showed up to the party alone, and someone broke the news that you two had broken up. People didn’t want to ask him ( he was tearing up after only one shot) what happened between the two of you. He was going through a lot without their probing questions.

However, Kuroo and Kenma were fair game. Everyone was more confused when they found out that your best friends knew nothing. Kenma stuck to the corner; if someone looked closer, they would see that his eyebrows were slightly furrowed. He hadn’t seen you since graduation, while Kuroo had last seen you at Thanksgiving break. Kuroo was dodging questions the entire time. However, they both made eye contact, and there was a silent agreement that it must be Oikawa’s fault.

It was an hour after the news of your break-up hit the party that you showed up. An old teammate had let you know that Oikawa was there. The nerves were already buzzing as you walked through the door. There was a small group by the front entrance wearing volleyball jackets; none of them gave you friendly looks when they saw you. You set your jaw as you sped walked towards an emptier room.

The only occupants in the kitchen was one couple flirting to the side, but if you didn’t mind them, they wouldn’t mind you. The countertop was lined with an array of drinks. While you were debating on whether or not you wanted to stay sober tonight- the looks some of Oikawa’s fangirls were sending you would not be fun to deal with- two hands came up to your waist, pressing just enough to tickle. You whipped around to see Kuroo’s devilish smile. You hit his arm with a smile. “That was 100% unnecessary.”

“It was fun though,” he retorted, “I didn’t know you were coming tonight,”

You shrugged. “I wasn’t sure myself. But I needed a break from my parents,”

Kuroo nodded, taking a step back. “Me and Kenma have been in the backyard,”

“Kenma came?” You asked as you grabbed a closed water bottle and followed Kuroo.

He sighed, “It took a lot of convincing and bargaining on my end,”

You decided that you would ask about those bargains later. “Has it been fun so far?” You stepped out into the backyard, and the chilly night air surrounded you. The noise from the door caused a couple of the girls to look over, glares immediately falling onto their faces when they recognize you.

Kuroo leaned closer to your ear. “It was alright, but you should know-”

“People are talking about me?” You asked with a tight smile, walking to one of the tables set up on the lawn. Kenma was leaning back on the chair, looking at something on his phone. His natural color was starting to grow in, and the way he had his hair pulled back almost hid his dyed end, emphasizing his grown in roots.

His eyes shot up when he heard your voice, and a smile came up on your face. You were reminded of how much you had missed his voice as he spoke up. “People are kind of obsessed with you, ya know?”

“Sadly,” you chuckled, sitting down. The cold metal of the chair was able to sting through the fabric of your jeans.

“So, I have to ask-” Kuroo sighed, raising his eyebrows, “Why didn’t you tell us about you and Oikawa?”

You groaned, avoiding both of their gazes. “I just… really didn’t want to talk about it to be honest. I told my Mom, and her reaction was enough,” Kenma furrowed his eyebrows, a silent question. “”When I told her that we broke up, my Mom went on a rant about how she was sure we were going to get married,”

“Oof,” Kenma muttered.

“Pretty much,” you chuckled, rubbing your arms as goosebumps appeared from the night air.

“Why did you break up with him?” Kuroo asked, “If you’re okay with that,”

You felt nauseous at the question; it was a question that you had been asking yourself for a long time as well. Right after you said the words, you were mortified at your decision. Oikawa was great. You were spoiled with having as your boyfriend, let alone your first love. Most people would have killed to date someone like him. But…

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it,” Kuroo reminded. You looked up, and Kenma’s eyes were focused on you.

“It’s not that,” you exhaled, “I just felt that I couldn’t be with him anymore. It’s hard to put into words,”

They both nodded, and a silence fell over the three of you. There was a roar of laughter from one of the nearby tables. You couldn’t help but feel like they were talking about you. It had felt that people here had been talking about you nonstop since your first date with Oikawa. “Are either of your families doing anything special for the holidays?” you asked.

Kenma shook his head, but Kuroo spoke up. “We have some extended family coming over next week to trade presents. It’s a pre-Christmas, since a lot of my cousins are working that day,”

“At least you’re getting to see them,”

“I also have to figure out gifts a whole week early,”

Kenma spoke up. “How many gifts do you have now?”

“Two,” Kuroo groaned.

You shook your head with a smile. “Don’t you have like a million relatives?”

“Fifteen, I’ll let you know, but yup,” He popped the ‘p’. “Would you guys mind helping me find presents?”

“Sure” “No” You and Kenma answered at the same time. You sent a weak look at him, and the corners of his mouth lifted up slightly. “Fine.”

Kuroo was about to make a comment on Kenma’s lack of enthusiasm when a wet coldness ran down your back. You flinched, immediately jumping up to your feet. Turning to see where it came from, your eyes connected with Kaori’s.

A smirk was evident on her face as she took in your drenched top. She had been pining over Oikawa just as your relationship with him started. The hatred she had for you clearly took enjoyment at the fact she could finally mess with you without fearing Oikawa’s judgement. “Sorry, I tripped,”

You forced a smile and sighed. “It’s fine,” you turned to your boys, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom before I start stinking like alcohol,”

Kenma stood up, pulling off the crimson hoodie he was wearing. “Here, you can change into this,”

You smiled, taking the clothing. “Thank you so much, Kozume,”

Kaori’s voice rose to a higher pitch as she walked away to her friends, “Thank you so much, Kozume,”

“I’ll be back,” you muttered to the boys. Kaori’s drink was already leaving its alcoholic scent on you as you trudged your way to the bathroom. It felt like everyone was staring at you, and Kaori’s antics made it difficult to tell yourself you were imagining it.

You pushed at the bathroom door, but it refused to budge. Your hand met the door as you knocked, but there was no response. A groan escaped your mouth as you went to find the other bathroom you knew of across the house.

Every time you passed into a new room people would turn to look at you. Grabbing the doorknob and turning it, you sighed out of relief as you opened the door, although you weren’t sure if some of the relief was at the idea of getting to be alone.

That relief disappeared as you saw your ex-boyfriend kneeling over the toilet. “Tooru?”

He looked up, frowning. “Y/N?”

“How drunk are you?”

“Not at all, Mom,” he said before spitting into the toilet.

You pressed your lips together before locking the door behind you. Turning towards the corner, you pulled off your shirt and rushed to get the hoodie on. It smelled like Kenma; he had been using the same detergent since you were kids, and the scent reminded you of walks from school.

“Did you seriously just change in front of me?” Tooru asked. His eyes were squinting at you like he was annoyed, but it was hard to take him seriously when he was slumped against a bathtub.

“I had a drink spilled on me.” He tried to respond, but it was indiscernible. “Are you alright?”

“Peachy.”

You rolled your eyes at his curt response, more mad at yourself for continuing the conversation than him. Why were you even talking to him? “Do you have a ride home at least?”

He spit into the toilet again before grumbling, “Why do you care? You’re the one who broke up with me,”

You wished he wasn’t right. He wasn’t the type to get drunk like this.The back of your mind reminded you that you were the reason he felt the need to get drunk tonight. “I still want you to be safe.”

Oikawa shoulders slumped further. “Gonna walk home,”

A million images of him tripping somewhere and getting stuck in the cold played in your mind. He wasn’t exactly a smart or stable drunk. “I can walk you home.”

“No.” He shook his head, making his hair go everywhere. It would be cute in a better situation.

“I don’t want you to go alone.” He mumbled something about exes to himself. As you tried to follow along, your phone vibrated. You reached down to read a text from Kenma.

You good? You’re taking a while.

“I-” You put your phone down and sighed, “If you saw me drunk and vomiting, would you want me to walk home alone?” Oikawa sighed, a clear tell that he was close to giving in. “Your house is only a block away from mine. I’m heading there anyways,”

He gripped the tub and groaned as he stood up, “Fine,”

A small smile set itself on your face, and you put a hand out to steady him. That nausea in your gut multiplied when your hand met his warm skin. His nose scrunched up as he looked at you. “You smell like alcohol,” he muttered as he dragged himself to the door. You immediately pulled your hand away from him as the door opened and hung your head down lower. God, you hoped no one saw you two. The rumor mill would only have more to talk about.

Tooru walked through the hallways towards the front door. Something you had always admired about him was the way people instinctively moved out of his way when he walked. He didn’t even have to ask for attention. His confidence and looks just brought it to him. You pulled your phone out to answer Kenma.

I’m going home. Do you mind if I give you your hoodie back later???

Oikawa stopped by the front door to hug Iwaizumi and say bye. You stepped through the door, exposing yourself to the chilly weather again; you didn’t think it was your place to say bye to Oikawa’s friends anymore. Iwaizumi had always been nice to you. You liked hanging out with him and Oikawa together because of how he calmed Oikawa down. He always took your side in the teasing too. A part of you wondered if walking home with those two were some of your favorite memories of high school.

Your phone dinged, lighting up with a text from Kenma.

Sure. Bring it back whenever. Let me know if you need to talk.

A smile graced your face. The memories with Iwaizumi and Oikawa would have to beat the memories with Kenma and Kuroo first. You knew you weren’t being the best friend right now. They had stuck with you for a long time; it would be sad to lose them now. There was a feeling in your gut that was telling you that you would lose them.

Thanks, i mean it. We should all plan to hang out soon

Oikawa burst through the door before a reply came in. You crossed your arms and smiled at him. “You good?”

He nodded and stepped closer to you, following you. You began walking towards his house. It felt weird walking with him to his house and not being close with him. You spent three years of your life walking this path while holding his hand. Kuroo’s question popped into your head again.

‘Whose hoodie is that?” Tooru’s voice was quiet.

“Huh?” You furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“The hoodie you're wearing. Whose is it?”

You glanced down. The red color staring back at you. “Oh, it’s Kenma’s. He gave it to me, so I could change,”

“Kenma’s?” Oikawa’s brows furrowed, and there was a small frown in his face.

“Yeah, why?”

Oikawa shook his head. “It’s nothing,” he muttered.

You didn’t believe him, but you decided against probing. “Are you feeling any better? Not nauseous or anything?”

He shook his head. “I think I got most of it out of my system.” You nodded. “Did you drink at all?”

“No, I basically just talked to Kenma and Kuroo and left,” you said.

Oikawa furrowed his eyebrows at you. “You didn’t have fun?”

“No. I’m glad I went because it’s been a while since I’ve seen them, but I felt pretty awkward,”

“That’s not like you,” he muttered.

You weren’t sure if he was right or not. He was right in that you had gone to a lot of parties before, some with him and some not. You were always a social butterfly at them, pulled into conversation after conversation. But you were also always aware of how your voice sounded, the way you were sitting, how long you took to answer. You always felt like you were playing a role, like you were in a video game. You controlled your actions, but there was a disconnect. “I don’t know. It was just different tonight.”

“I felt that too,” he said.

You had a feeling that it was you that made him feel different. It was only a couple of blocks until you got to his house. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to-”

“No, I do. I could’ve handled it better,” you said, “And I know I hurt you, so I’m sorry,”

“I know.” Oikawa gave you a feeble smile. You both stared at each other for a moment before he sighed and looked forward again. “How are your parents doing?”

“Pretty good, my Dad just got a promotion at work,” you answered. You felt like a video game character again, even with him. “My Mom’s really excited for the holidays. She already has a list of traditions planned,”

“I always really liked your Mom,” he smiled. “She’s really sweet,”

You laughed at his reaction to you just mentioning your Mom. “She really liked you too,” you said.

Coming up to his house, you both stopped in front. “Well of course she liked me. Who wouldn’t?” He winked at you, smiling when you cracked up.

“I don’t even know if I should dignify that with a response,” you smiled.

“You don’t need to dignify the truth, sweetheart,”

You rolled your eyes, and Oikawa’s smile grew wider at your reaction. “I should probably head ho-”

Oikawa leaned down, pressing his mouth against yours for a moment. You froze. It had now been a couple of months since you last kissed him, and you forgot how soft his lips were. How he would barely push against you. How one of his hands would always travel to the back of your head with just enough pressure to keep you steady.

Before you could react, he had already pulled away. He stayed close enough that you could feel his breath on your face; the alcohol he drank earlier was more noticeable now. Oikawa whispered, “I’m… Do you want this?”

You let out a shaky breath. “I- Tooru…” you mumbled.

Oikawa sighed, shutting his eyes as he pulled away completely this time. The cold air hit you again without his body there to shield you. There was a part of you that wanted to pull him back; instead you wrapped your arms around yourself. “I’m sorry. I think I’m still drunk, and I really miss-” Oikawa said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I shouldn’t have put you in that position. I’m sorry,”

“Don’t worry about it,” you mumbled. A silence fell over the two of you, and you became focused on your breathing. “I should probably be heading home before it gets too late.”

Oikawa nodded, backing up towards his house as you turned to walk away. “Can you message me when you get home? So I know you’re safe?”

A small smile appeared on your face as you nodded. “Tell your Mom hi for me,” you called back.

“Tell yours too,” he said with a smile.

You sighed as you began walking towards your house.You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself as a breeze came by. The winter used to be your favorite season, but the coldness just served as a reminder that Oikawa wasn’t there. That one moment of having him against you made the air colder. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, burning against the wind.

After the breakup, you had only cried twice- right after and three days later. Even though you hadn’t been sure if the breakup was the right decision, you had been good at learning how to live with it. Until now. Until you had to deal with reminders of him from people asking about him to Kaori and the rest of his fangirls being pissed at you. You felt like you were back in high school, except at least in high school you had teachers telling you what to do.

Your house came up in view, and you let yourself in quietly. Your parents were probably asleep by now, and the last thing you wanted to deal with was your Mom asking you a million questions. Slipping off your shoes, you tiptoed over to your room and locked the door behind you.

You grabbed your phone before collapsing onto your bed.

To Oikawa: I’m home, didn’t get murdered

Kenma had sent you a message sometime while you were walking. Me and Kuroo are gonna go xmas shopping tomorrow. Wanna come with??

Breathing felt hard. You typed ‘yes’ to Kenma as Oikawa’s message came through.

Glad you got home safe! Goodnight :)

You dropped your phone to your side, choosing to stare at the wall in front of you instead. You didn’t want to cry. You were the one who broke up with him; you’re not supposed to be the one who cries. Despite your disagreement, tears began falling. You covered your mouth to keep any sounds from escaping.

Oikawa had been perfect. He treated you great. Even tonight. He loved you. What would have happened if you had grabbed him and pulled him in for another kiss? Would he have wanted to talk about it, or would he have wanted to just keep kissing? Was that all he wanted, or did he want to get back with you?

You remembered how warm he had been tonight. How you felt safer the second you were with him.

“Do you want this?”

You willed yourself to at least stay quiet, since you couldn’t stop the tears. You had missed your chance to answer him.

And you had no idea what that answer would have been.

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #oikawa tooru imagines #reader insert #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu angst #oikawa x reader

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kookitykook · 4 years

Text

Airport Stranger (Jin x Reader)

~genre: fluff, sfw

~word count: 4.7k

~summary: Your flight home for Thanksgiving has been delayed for the umpteenth time, prompting quite the embarrassing call from your mother in the airport waiting area. Lucky for you, the man sitting next to you thinks it's hilarious. And lucky for him, you think his laugh is adorable. Airport hijinks and off-the-chart levels of dorkiness ensue.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Yeah I know, Mom. I know, alright? But there’s literally nothing I can do about a delayed flight, alright?”

Pinching the bridge of your nose in between your thumb and forefinger, you let out a long-suffering sigh that you had been saving up for Thanksgiving dinner with your family. Alas, the suffering decided to come early this year.

“Look, unless they delay again, I should be boarding in about fifteen minutes. That’ll have me landing around midnight. Can you still pick me up or … ah, that’s what I thought. No, no, it’s fine. I’ll just get a cab. … Mom, I’ll be fine. … No I don’t have a taser or pepper spray, I can’t just put that stuff in my carry on!”

Suddenly there was a sharp laugh from the guy sitting beside you. You whipped her head to look at him just one seat over. He had the audacity to look right at you as he chuckled, making it obvious he was laughing at your predicament.

Feeling your cheeks reddening, you covered your face with one hand, shifting in the uncomfortable waiting area seat so that your back was to the man you hadn’t bothered to look at too closely beyond his amused expression.

“Mom, I’ve gotta go,” you whispered. “Look I’ll text you when I get in the cab, and I know where the spare key is so I’ll just — no, Mom, nobody is going to follow me to our house for the sake of stealing our spare key! And it’s not like underneath the creepy gnome on the front porch is exactly a prime hiding place!”

At that, the man that was laughing before started to laugh even harder, and you couldn’t help but shift to get a good look at him. He was practically cackling at the one-sided conversation he was hearing, and his windshield-wiper sounding laugh was attracting more attention from the other delayed passengers. He caught your eye and then, like an old man despite the fact that he looked around her age, he literally slapped his knee in amusement.

You couldn’t help but smile at the man even though your overbearing mother was still nagging away on the other end of the line. He was quite tall and slender save for his broad shoulders, which were evident even underneath his large hoody. The hood was pulled up, but you could still see smooth, shiny black hair peeking out. The two of you oddly matched, both wearing comfortable outfits — him with his red hoody and joggers, and you with leggings and an oversized maroon sweater from your college days.

The shouting of your name pulled your from your shameless staring and smiling at your laughing neighbor. You couldn’t help but jump in your seat as your mother’s shriek reached quite the high decibel.

“Yeah, yes, Mom I’m still listening. Look I have to go now, I’ll text you when I land, but for now I’m going on airplane mode, bye!” Your last words were hurried, ignoring your mother’s objections and pressing the bright red ‘end call’ button — your favorite button, truly — and quickly switching your phone to airplane mode before receiving an angry return call.

At this point, the man’s laughter had quieted down and the other irritated, delayed passengers in the waiting area had looked away from his outburst, but he was still looking at you with an amused grin.

Woah, nice smile, you thought to yourself, taking in the twinkling in his eyes and his annoyingly perfect teeth.

“I’ll have you know,” the man said suddenly, making your eyes widen at his boldness to talk to a stranger, “that the last place I would look for someone’s spare key is underneath a creepy gnome.”

You blinked. Once. Twice. Then you promptly burst into laughter yourself. The man joined you immediately, and you were too tired from all of the travel and your frightening lack of caffeine to care that the two of you were undoubtedly annoying everyone else in the waiting area.

“For the love of all that is good in the world,” you gasped in between chuckles as you both started to come down from your giggle highs, “don’t ever tell my mother that you approve of one of her crazy ideas.”

“Noted,” the man gasped himself, a hand over his chest as he caught his breath. A few seconds passed and you both smiled at each other once again before he reached out across the empty seat between you. “I’m Jin.”

You accepted his handshake with a smile more genuine than anything you had felt in … far too long. “I’m Y/N. Thanks for the laughs, Jin. That rarely happens after talking with my mother, and it was … definitely needed.”

Jin chuckled softly, nodding in understanding. “I get it. Being with family around the holidays usually ends in laughter or tears, sometimes you just have to go with the former. Especially after a six hour delayed flight.”

“That’s the truth,” you mumbled under your breath, gaining another chuckle from Jin as you rolled your eyes quite dramatically. “I don’t know why I thought traveling the day before Thanksgiving was a good idea, and now here we are.”

“I’m going to take a wild guess and say you were doing your best to avoid any extra time at home, even if it meant risking traveling on one of the worst days of the year?” Jin raised his eyebrow knowingly.

“Alright look here, Mr. Psychic Stranger, I don’t need you psychoanalyzing me. I’m fragile from all of the gnome talk.”

Jin laughed yet again and damn, his laugh was the cutest thing you’d ever heard.

“Is that why you’re here on hell night?” you asked, eyebrow cocked.

Jin shook his head, still grinning. “No, I actually had to work up until today, so this was my only option.”

Your eyes widened. “Woah. What do you do?”

“Music production. Well, kind of. I’ve moved from unpaid intern to paid very little intern for a production company, so things are really looking up for me.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners adorably as you barked quite the unattractive laugh at that statement. It was wild how comfortable you felt with this total stranger on what had been undoubtedly one of the worst travel days ever.

“Congratulations,” you finally managed to say, finding yourself leaning over the seat separating them quite a lot. You cleared your throat, sitting up straighter and pushing back the stray hairs that had fallen from your ponytail. Jin’s eyes tracked the movement, something you did not fail to notice.

“What about you?” Jin asked, his voice kind. “What do you do that I’m sure your mother is very proud of?”

You did laugh at that, covering your mouth to stifle the sound. “Oh yes, my mother is beyond proud of her barista daughter who has had her life’s work rejected by not one, not two, but three book publishers.”

“You’re a writer?” Jin asked, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. You blinked at his reaction. Did you not just say that you were rejected by three publishers? “Woah, that’s so cool.”

“Uh, I’m trying to be,” you said nervously, pulling the sleeves of your sweater over your hands and piddling with the tattered material. “Like I said, rejected and all that.”

“Well that just means you haven’t found the right publisher yet!” Jin said, and it was the fact that you could literally hear the smile in his voice that you were able to look back over at him. Unlike yourself, Jin was shameless in how much he was leaning towards you, making it quite obvious that he wanted to continue talking. “What’s your book about?”

Oh no. The dreaded question. You hated when people asked this question, it was always so awkward to talk about your work instead of just showing someone. But Jin’s big eyes and pouty lips — still smiling adorably of course — made you think that he was one of those rare, special people that didn’t really deal in awkward situations.

You smiled, averting your eyes away from his for the briefest second because it was as if his smile was the literal sun or something, when suddenly —

“Passengers of flight 403 to Newark, we regret to inform you that your flight has been delayed until 10:50 PM. The airline would like to express its sincerest apologies and—”

The rest of the airline worker’s voice was drowned out as the entire waiting area groaned, people fishing out their phones to contact their families yet again. All except you, who was pointedly not calling your mother again, and Jin, who oddly looked … pleased at this turn of events.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered, rubbing your tired face and briefly noting in the back of your mind that you probably looked a mess in front of Jin. You hadn’t showered in over twenty-four hours, hadn’t brushed your hair or teeth in about twelve, and you could feel that your pores were practically the size of Jupiter. Jin was a stranger that you would probably never see again, but still … a cute stranger. You pulled your hands away from your oily face to glance over at said stranger.

He was looking right at you with the dopiest smile. You hesitated, narrowing your eyes at him.

“What?”

Suddenly Jin stood up and woah, he was really tall. You had an inkling too that he was probably quite built underneath his comfy clothes. With a grin, he moved to stand in front of you. His hood had fallen all the way back now, and his hair looked soft and shiny even underneath the terrible airport lights.

“Come on,” he said brightly, meeting your eyes without any hesitation. “We’ve got another two hours, and I have it on good authority that there is some absolutely terrible free coffee on the other side of the terminal.”

You raised an eyebrow. This whole situation was … new.

“Why would I want terrible coffee?” you asked, your voice taking on a note of teasing as you crossed your arms and settled further back into your seat.

“Ah, good question,” he responded with a grin, eyes brighter than a starry sky. “Because terrible coffee is factually proven to be better than no coffee.”

“Factually proven?”

“Yes of course. There was some fancy Ivy League study done on this subject somewhere surely maybe sometime.”

“Somewhere surely maybe sometime?”

“Sí. ”

You broke with that, laughing yet again and covering your face with your hand, sweater sleeve still pulled over your fingertips. When you finally looked back up, Jin was looking down at you with what could only be described as the most smitten expression.

“Not to mention,” Jin continued, “the walk to this terrible wonderful coffee will give you the chance to tell me all about your book.”

You chewed absentmindedly on your bottom lip, noting in the back of your mind that your lips were quite obviously chapped.

Jin looked so … genuine. That was the only word you could think to describe him as. Genuine. He really wanted to hear about your book, and get terrible coffee with you when you were just a stranger that he overheard having an embarrassing conversation with their mother.

With a huff and a grin, you stood to your full height, ignoring your popping knees in favor of staring at Jin’s full lips smiling impossibly wider.

“Alright then, Kind Stranger Jin,” you said as you swung your backpack over your shoulders. “Let’s go.”

An hour and a half later, you knew you were in deep trouble. In the back of your mind, you had been somewhat hoping that Jin would turn out to be kind of creepy or awkward or weird so that you would have an easier time not falling for the stranger. But no, he had to go and be … well, practically perfect.

Not actually perfect, of course. Jin laughed way too loud and did not care at all about disturbing anyone else with said laugh. He was clumsy, and tripped three times just walking across the terminal. He had terrible taste in coffee and made slurping noises when he drank. So definitely not perfect.

But also … he was perfect. Kind, attentive, well-spoken, and hands down the funniest person you had ever met. He listened to a bare-bones description of your book with not a trace of judgment, and he even asked good questions about the characters you loved so much. He listened to you vent about your mother and made good-natured jokes to soothe your stress without being insensitive.

He was damn perfect and quite frankly it was pissing you off because you were never going to see him again once you each went your own ways after the flight. This wasn’t a Hallmark movie.

The two of you were making your way back across to the terminal where you would hopefully, finally be boarding in half an hour when Jin sighed quite dramatically all of a sudden, making you chuckle and a few passerby look at you oddly. You found yourself adopting Jin’s attitude and not caring at all.

“What was that sigh for?” You asked, nudging his arm with her shoulder — he was so tall compared to you.

“I hope we get delayed again.”

You practically guffawed at that, almost tripping yourself when you looked up at him in disbelief.

“What?” You asked, heart stuttering as he lightly touched your lower back to help steady you. “Don’t speak that into the universe! Besides, I thought you were excited to see your friends!”

Jin had explained over the terrible coffee that his family was still in Korea and his paid-very-little-internship didn’t exactly allow a budget for traveling to see them for both Thanksgiving and Christmas (and Korean Thanksgiving didn’t even fall at the same time as it did in the States that year anyways), so he was saving that big trip for Christmas.

Instead, Jin would be spending Thanksgiving with a group of his friends from college. He had described them all in detail quite enthusiastically, but you had already forgotten their names because you might have been too busy staring at his bright smile the entire time he had been talking about them. All you remembered was that one of them had a bunny smile (whatever that means), one would probably be president one day, and one pretended to be grumpy with no soul but was actually quite the opposite. They had all sounded wonderful though, and were all annoyingly attractive in the photo he had shown you on his phone.

Of course he had cute friends, too.

“I do want to see my friends,” Jin said quickly. “For sure, they’re my brothers and I miss them, but …”

“But what?” You asked, slowing your stride as your gate came into view. “Don’t tell me. They have a gnome on their front porch, too.”

You expected another loud laugh from Jin at that, but all you got was a low chuckle and him slowing down even more than you had.

“No, Namjoon has a firm no-gnome policy.” For the first time in the past almost two hours, Jin’s whole self wasn’t in the joke. “I just … I’ve really enjoyed talking to you.” Your heart did an unwelcome flip-flop. “I don’t really want this to end.”

You swallowed and licked your chapped lips, and it was only then that you realized you had come to a complete stop. Your gate was in eyeshot, but you and this former stranger who was now the oddest sort of friend as if you’d known him your entire life, were staring at one another.

“I don’t either,” you admitted, unable to tear your eyes away from Jin’s. “I … Jin, actually I— oof!”

“Oh my goodness I am so sorry!”

Jin barely caught you by the arms as a flight attendant ran into you and shoved you forward into him. Your chests were flush against each other and Jin’s hands were quick to keep you upright.

“Are you alright?” The flight attendant asked you worriedly. “I really am so, so sorry, ma’am.”

“It’s okay,” you said with a smile, noting in the back of your mind that Jin was still holding you tightly to him even as you turned your head to the side to address the young woman. “You didn’t mean any harm. Thanksgiving has got to be rough for you guys, it’s really okay.”

The flight attendant released an audible sigh, clearly relieved that she wasn’t about to be yelled at or reported to her airline or something else awful a disgruntled flyer might do.

“I know I’m not supposed to say this, but … Thanksgiving is the worst,” the attendant simply said. Jin and you both chuckled at that. “I’m really sorry again, I hope you two have a good holiday!”

With that, the attendant turned on her heel and rushed away. You watched her go with a sad smile, you couldn’t imagine working for an airline on Thanksgiving.

It was Jin’s hand gently squeezing your arm that had you turning back to him.

Oh, right. Jin is holding me. Sweet Jin that I just met and really like and he seems to like me, too. Right. Right.

“What were you about to say?” Jin asked softly, his hands still holding you practically flush against him. Your breath caught as his thumbs swept over the sleeve of your sweater, an oddly moving gesture of comfort.

“I …”

Over your shoulder right at that moment you heard that same flight attendant from before speaking just loud enough to hear.

“Hi, I’m here to takeover for you guys! … Okay, so twelve economy’s and one premium seat has opened? … Oh, two premium seats, got it. Have you updated the manifest?”

“Y/N?”

Jin’s voice snapped your attention back to him. You had been staring at his face, but listening to the flight attendant.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jin asked once again, seemingly worried now.

“I …” He was staring at you expectantly, face starting to fall right as you turned your head to look over your shoulder and — yepp, sure enough, the flight attendant was at your gate.

With a wicked grin, you spun back around to face Jin so fast he jumped.

“I have an idea,” you said quickly.

“An idea?” he repeated, cocking his head to the side like the cutest, most confused puppy you had ever seen. “What do you — hey!”

As quick as you could, you grabbed one of Jin’s hands in your own, lacing your fingers together tightly as you pulled him into a run towards the gate desk.

“Woah, what are you—”

“Hi!” You said brightly, pulling yourself and Jin right up to the gate desk where the flight attendant from before was now standing. The attendant looked up and smiled back when she saw who it was. Not missing a beat, you placed your and Jin’s linked hands in the attendant’s sight.

“Oh, hello again,” the attendant said. “Are you two on this flight?”

“We are indeed,” you replied, squeezing Jin’s hand as you felt him staring down at you in confusion. “My fiancee and I have been here all night with these delays trying to get home for the holidays.”

Jin squeaked and you just pulled him even closer to you, kicking him in the ankle to keep him quiet.

“Fiancee!” He shouted in affirmation, making the attendant jump and you bite your lip to keep from sighing. “Yepp, fiancee, this is she. I’m quite excited about it, you know I had to ask her twelve times before she said yes.”

The attendant’s eyes bugged out of her head.

“He’s joking,” you said quickly. “I only turned him down six times.”

“I fail to see why you never count the time I proposed underwater. Just because you got bit by a shark while scuba diving in the Maldives does not make that trip any less romantic!”

This guy is an absolute moron, you thought to yourself, trying and failing not to let your laughter show. Fortunately for you and Jin, the flight attendant was laughing outright.

“You two are adorable!” She said with a bright grin. “I’m so sorry you’ve been delayed as long as you have.”

“Us, too,” you said with a pout. “We understand though, everyone here is just doing their jobs and we respect that. We did want to ask though, do you think we’ll be boarding soon? If we’re going to get delayed again, I would rather just call it quits and book a hotel tonight.”

“Which I wouldn’t be opposed to of course,” Jin said quickly, making you look up at him with a glare. “It’s our anniversary, honeybuns, and we’ve had to spend it in the airport after all.”

Oh you clever idiot, you thought, smiling up at him.

“Well yes of course, lovebug, but I know you want to get to your sister’s house soon, the baby is due any minute.”

“That’s true, potato wedge, and she did promise that if I was there for the birth she would name my nephew after me.”

In sync, you and Jin both turned to look at the attendant again, who looked more confused than she had probably ever been in her life. You both smiled sweetly.

“So could you possibly tell us if we’ll actually be boarding this time around?” You asked, giving your most award-winning, prize smile.

“Actually…” the attendant glanced around quickly before leaning in. You and Jin followed suit, shoulders touching. “I just got a call from the pilot, and you all are one-hundred percent boarding in the next ten minutes.”

A breath of pure relief spilled out of you, and it wasn’t for show when you squeezed Jin’s hand tightly.

“Thank you so much,” you said to the attendant. Then you turned and looked up at Jin, not having to use any of your meager acting skills to look smitten with him. “Just four hours and then we’re home, hotcakes. You’ll have to try and survive not sitting next to me that whole time.”

“You’re not sitting with your fiancee?” The flight attendant asked incredulously. You turned to look at her with big eyes, and you saw Jin pouting dramatically in your periphery.

“No, we booked these flights last minute and there weren’t any seats together. We tried to upgrade to business class, but it just wasn’t in our budget this year, you know?”

“That’s because all of the vet bills really piled up this year,” Jin said offhandedly. You pursed your lips together tightly to keep from sighing or laughing — you weren’t sure which. Jin met the attendant’s curious gaze. “Oh, you see our chinchilla Chimmy has cancer. Yepp, in the liver. We think he may have gotten into our alcohol stash one too many times. Alcohol addiction is often hereditary in chinchillas, you know. Chimmy’s father was a deadbeat, so we think that’s where he got it from.”

The attendant blinked while you bit down on your lip so hard it almost hurt. You were falling head over heels for this complete and total moron.

“Anywho,” Jin continued, looking down at you without breaking character for one single second. “We should leave this kind worker to her duties now, lava lamp. Thank you again, ma’am, and happy Thanksgiving!”

“You know what,” the attendant suddenly said, calling the two of you back as you started to turn away. “Look, I’m not really supposed to do this, but … you two are a really cute and … eccentric couple, and you were so nice earlier when I ran into you. Two first class seats beside each other just opened up and if you two wanted, I could upgrade you.”

Jin’s expression of surprise was way more believable than yours, but the attendant still beamed at their reactions.

“Really?” Jin exclaimed. “Wow, that would be so great. I would lose my head if it weren’t for this girl, we would really appreciate that!”

“Yes, thank you so much!” You echoed as the attendant told you and Jin that it was her pleasure and being typing away at her computer. A few seconds passed and then you were being printed new boarding passes.

“You are the best, Lana,” Jin said, accepting their new passes and reading the attendant’s nametag. “We will be giving you the best review on your company’s website.”

“It’s no problem, really. You guys will be boarding with Zone A in about ten minutes!”

“Thank you!” You said once more, waving at Lana as Jin unlinked your hands so that he could sling his arm over your shoulder and lead you over to a pair of open seats at the very back of the waiting area.

The two of you sat down and were silent for about three seconds before doubling over in barely contained laughter. You were clutching your stomach as Jin wiped at his eyes, your antics drawing the eyes of everyone else in your section.

“Shhh, shhh,” Jin gasped. “If she hears us we might get outed!”

You clapped a hand over your mouth, sitting up straight to look at Jin, which only made the pair of you dissolve into even more giggles.

“Oh … oh my gosh,” you gasped, leaning back in your seat to realize that Jin’s arm was over your shoulders once again. You didn’t mind. “I can’t believe that actually worked!”

“You are the most brilliant fiancee in all the land, and that’s a fact.”

“And you!” You poked him in the chest, which he looked positively affronted by. “You’re insane! Bitten by a shark in the Maldives? Chinchilla alcoholism? You called me potato wedge!”

“And lava lamp, don’t forget lava lamp.”

That only had you laughing yet again, your chest practically on fire with glee and affection for this insane man that you met only a couple hours prior.

It was a few seconds later that you realized Jin wasn’t laughing anymore. You looked up, cheeks hurting from smiling so much, to see him looking down at you with an expression that could only be described as fondness and affection.

“Where have you been all my life?” he murmured softly.

You stilled. “I think I’ve been waiting for you.”

The air went taut between you, both of your gazes flickering down to the other’s mouth. Just as you started to lean in …

“Do you think your mom would like me?”

You froze, looking up at Jin in confusion. “Um … you know I’ll be honest, that was not what I was expecting to happen just then.”

“It’s just, you know how I said Namjoon has a strict no-gnome policy? This means that when I get to his house in about five hours, there will be no spare key underneath a porch gnome. And he and the other guys sleep like the dead, so I’ll probably end up sleeping on the gnome-less porch because no one will let me in. And it’s so cold outside and I’m too pretty to get pneumonia, let’s be honest. So really you ought to invite me to your mom’s house tonight and then I will repay you the favor by inviting you over to my buddy’s house for Thanksgiving evening to help you escape. But this all will only work if your mother likes me, so — do you think your mom would like me?”

You were painfully aware that you probably looked like a complete idiot staring up at Jin with your mouth open and eyes drawn together, only inches from his face. You were also painfully aware that he was still looking at you with that smitten expression that you just couldn’t get over.

“Honestly?” You finally said, chuckling and choosing to accept the insanity that was Kim Seokjin. “She’ll adore you.”

“Perfect.”

Before anything else could be said, Jin tilted his head down and pressed his full lips firmly to yours. You positively melted at the contact, sighing into his mouth and relaxing into his hold.

The kiss didn’t last long, but it was the sweetest either of you had ever had.

You and Jin breathed each other in, no longer kissing but lips close enough to feel the other smile.

“Do you think your friends will like me?” You asked, out of breath from sheer proximity to this wonderful man.

“Oh they’ll probably all fall in love you,” Jin said with a nod, his hands coming up to cradle your cheeks. He kissed you lightly once more. “I have a feeling I’m going to, too.”

“Attention passengers, first class zone A is now boarding, first class zone A is now boarding.”

#bts fanfiction #bts scenario #jin fanfiction #jin scenario #bts #my writing #this was the first bts fanfiction i ever wrote way back when!

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thebibliomancer · 4 years

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Essential Avengers: Avengers #211: ... By Force of MIND!

September, 1981

THE OLD ORDER CHANGETH!

Oh hey, Dazzler, Hercules, Black Widow, Moon Knight, Angel from X-Men, Yellowjacket, Black Panther, Tigra, and Hawkeye?

Are you joining Captain America, Wasp, Beast, Thor, and Iron Man as the new Avengers?

Is this going to be the next biggest roster since the Korvac Saga?

Possibly! Jim Shooter is back and he was the guy behind that story.

Jim Shooter is very back, something the creative credits make sure you don’t miss.

“Joyfully welcome back long-time star Avengers scribe, me, Jim Shooter -- ‘cause I’m writing these credits, and, also I’m the boss!”

Charming. Non-facetiously.

It has similar energy to the ol’ Stan Lee introductions. And is probably just as much a pretense. Eh.

So the story “... By Force of MIND!” starts in the Avengers conference room.

And penciler Gene Colan sure has interesting ideas what that should look like.

We’ve seen the Avengers’ conference room a couple times in various books. They tend to have a grand conference table with assigned chairs?

Look at this one from Avengers Annual #10.

Or the one just as recently as last issue #210.

Pretty big overall. Suitably grand.

But the conference room has apparently been redecorated because it looks different. The personalized chairs are still there.

But the table is puny. It looks like the Young Avengers table at Thanksgiving. Set up off to the side for all the kids. Its dinky. It doesn’t look like all the Avengers can fit around it.

Which possibly supports Captain America’s point when he decides that the Avengers roster needs to be trimmed down to only six.

All those people on the cover are going to be really disappointed to hear this.

Captain America: “The Avengers have a habit of playing for high stakes! I believe that a lean, close-knit group is better... stronger!”

Beast goofs that they’ll need explosives to dislodge him from the team.

Also, there’s a trapeze on the roof of the conference room. Why. I mean, I know why. Your acrobatic characters need to be casually acrobatic at random times or they’ll be bummed out. But also why.

Wonder Man isn’t as bothered. Even after all this time on the team, he doesn’t feel like he’s ever really belonged here doing this hero stuff.

Vision and Scarlet Witch are selling themselves as a package deal. You get both or you get neither.

Captain America gives the Avengers some time to rest and think but they’ll reconvene at 1600 for the new roster announcement.

So there’s 9 people in or adjacent to the Avengers. Thor, Captain America, Iron Man, Beast, Jocasta, Scarlet Witch, Vision, Wonder Man, and Wasp. Three are gonna have to go.

All of this possibly getting fired, gives a pretty dour attitude (except for Wasp who doesn’t seem very concerned and probably doesn’t have a reason to be. Would you want to tell Wasp that she’s fired? I wouldn’t). Beast decides to lighten things up.

By causing problems on purpose.

So Beast bounces through the crowd of Avengers, jostling them all, and stealing Wonder Man’s glasses. Who hates having his glowing eyes show.

Scarlet Witch: “What on-- !? Beast! You crazy -- !”

Beast: “Moi? Crazee? Begging your pardon, mademoiselle witch. I am merely, how you say... playful! So, like gimme some space to be a jerk in, you know? Okay?”

At least he knows he’s being a jerk??

And then he runs off with Wonder Man’s glasses, goofing all the way.

Wonder Man: “Come on, you lame-brained blue-furred buffoon!”

Beast: “Hmmf! I’ll have you know, sir, that I am a highly intelligent blue-furred buffoon. I hole a dozen PhDs! I speak fifty-three languages... but I tell you, I don’t get no respect! Wanna hear me say ‘eat my dust, jocko,’ in Latverian?”

In the face of all this buffoonery, Wasp still doesn’t really care.

She decides the done thing is to go get her hair done for the big meeting. And sure this is short notice but she’s Janet Van Dyne. She’s going to have a movie starlet’s appointment bumped for her.

Scarlet Witch reflects that maybe the reason Jan isn’t worried about the possibility of being cut is that the Avengers aren’t her whole life. She has other stuff going on. A husband. A fashion line. The fabulous existence of being Janet Van Dyne.

Jocasta comes and tries to ask Vision for advice. Even after her big focus story, she still feels like an outsider. And she doesn’t have a life outside the Avengers. So unlike her brain donor Wasp, she is very worried about getting kicked out.

Jocasta: “You’ve learned to fit in, even though you’re a robot, as I am. Please... help me to...”

Vision: “I beg your pardon, Jocasta. I am a synthezoid, not a robot! As such, I am a perfect meld of computer microcircuitry and living, synthetic flesh! In all ways I am a fully functional man! I have a wife -- who needs me now! I cannot help you with your dilemma.”

And then Vision peaces out of this conversation by flying through the ceiling. Even though he’s going to join Wanda who is in an adjacent room. Ya weird, Vision.

You’re also massively unhelpful whenever anyone asks you for advice.

This is fully the second time Jocasta has asked him for advice. At least he didn’t trash the room in an angst ‘I DON’T HAVE FEELINGS AHHHH I MISS WANDA’ tantrum this time.

Jocasta is left alone. Which basically sums up her time in this book. Poor, poor robot. She’s so lonely she goes off on an existential soliloquy right outside Vision and Wanda’s room. Which is a bit passive aggressive. But hey. Superheroes.

Jocasta: “Are you truly so much different, Vision? So much better than I? I know that my voice rings metallic... but yours is cold hollow and emotionless!”

“I have built-in sensors! I can see! I can hear! I can feel! I function well enough? Don’t I? Don’t I? What does it take to be alive?”

“Does it take warm flesh? Am I merely animated because I am made of metal? I did not choose to be what I am!”

“I am what Ultron made me! Ultron -- the evil robot nemesis of the Avengers! He made you too, Vision -- reconstructed you from a long-dead android body! Both of us rebelled against his evil! Both of us sided with the Avengers!”

“Why, then, am I less than you? Is it because you are loved... and I am alone? Ultron... loved me...”

;__;

Poor robot lady.

I do wonder why the Avengers have been so indifferent to her presence. She did come to them during a chaotic moment in the team history. Vision was based on Wonder Man who wasn’t on the team while Jocasta had to coexist with Wasp from day 1.

There’s also that while both she and Vision are angsty robots that turned against Ultron, Vision (despite his famous “even an android can cry” moment) tends to be more performative with his angsts. He sulks. He broods. He smashes furniture.

Jocasta sits quietly and sadly in the background. Makes tentative stabs at companionship but backs off without ever causing a fuss. Different socialization rules for the robot genders possibly?

The good news is that modern Jocasta has learned to assert herself a lot more. She’s been a delight in the Dan Slott Iron Man book.

Anyway. Hopefully that line about Ultron doesn’t foreshadow anything. Its going to be really dumb if Jocasta brings back Ultron because the Avengers treat her with all the attentiveness of the fridge (although she may still legally qualify as one depending on how much of the Henry Peter Gyrich’s nonsense has stuck around).

Time for a sudden, drastic tone shift!

Beast exits stage Avengers Mansion, pursued by Wonder Man.

He hides up a tree like a rocket belt isn’t something Simon has or the ability to jump hella high.

But Wonder Man takes neither of those options. Instead he karate chops the tree down in one stroke. Which is impressive but I imagine Tony Stark is going to be annoyed. That tree was part of the landscaping!

Not expecting this, Beast falls out of the tree complaining that cutting down trees is illegal in New York. Wonder Man catches him and takes his sunglasses back.

Beast: “You grabbed me! But nobody’s fast enough to do that!”

Wonder Man: “People think I’m just strong! Everybody forgets that I have instantaneous reflexes and blinding speed! To me, the world looks like its moving in slow motion!”

I feel like if Wonder Man was Actually Fast all along, he’s not been getting much use out of it, considering how often he takes dumb hits in fights.

And then Wonder Man hurls Beast into the sky.

Like. Really high into the sky.

Beast: “omigosh! omigosh! omigosh! He’s nuts! He’s crazy! He’s -- who cares about him?! I’m dead! He killed me over a crummy prank! For stealing his glasses I get to end up as a blue blotch on the street. My girlfriends won’t recognize me! I can’t look! Wait a minute! This is serious! This is for real! I’m falling at hundreds of miles per hour! Nothing can save me! I’m really going to die! Like this?! I’m going to die like this?! NO!”

Wonder Man: “Relax, Beast. You’re in good hands with Wonder Man!”

Beast: *Whuff*! You -- you caught me! But that’s like catching a bullet.”

Wonder Man: “Told you I moved quick!”

Beast: “thanks. You’re a decent guy for a common ruffian, Wondy!”

I mean, he also threw you straight up, Beast. Is it so impressive that he caught you?

But with the disproportionate response to a prank by making Beast think he’s going to horribly die, Wonder Man sort of apologizes and says he’s going to miss hanging out with Beast.

See, Wonder Man isn’t going to hang around hoping he gets to stay on the team. He’s actually decided to quit. As has been Wonder Man’s thing for a while, he just doesn’t enjoy the superhero life.

He’s always struggling with insecurity and dislike of throwing himself into deadly danger a dozen times a week.

In fact, he wasn’t too broken up when Henry Peter Gyrich kicked him off the team. Back when he got super into the idea of becoming an actor. He even said at time “If I can get used to playing roles on a stage - maybe I’ll feel more comfortable in my role as superhero!”

Except, as we saw in the Shadow Lord/Berserker two-parter, Wonder Man hasn’t gotten used to playing roles on a stage.

And we’ve seen that his Avengers responsibilities are getting in the way of his acting opportunities. So. Not a surprise he’s going to leave the team as long as the roster is being rearranged anyway.

Wonder Man asks if Beast likes that superhero life of facing death all the time.

Beast: “Frankly, I never really actually considered the possibility of dying... until a minute ago. But think of the fun, glamour and girls, Simon! This is the life!”

Wonder Man: “Is that stuff really enough for a guy as smart as you, Hank? The way I see it being a hero doesn’t make you a person any more than having power makes you a hero.”

Beast: “Yeah. But pigs make good pork chops so I’m staying!”

I’m not really sure what Simon is getting at here. I think its something about finding yourself?

As the time for the meeting draws minutes away, Completely Normal Doctor Donald Blake arrives at the mansion by cab. The cabdriver wondering what a guy like Blake is doing at Avengers Mansion. This Completely Normal Cab Driver is tempted to snoop but goes naw!

If he had snooped, he may have seen Completely Normal Doctor Donald Blake turn into the Mighty Thor and head into the mansion.

Here’s a funny thing, Thor claims that the reason why he talks to himself so much is out of protest that there’s just not enough heralds in Midgard to tell people how cool he is.

Thor: “Thus, the mortal facade is stripped away -- and thus, once again Thor treads the Earth! Thor, god of Thunder, Prince of Asgard! Thor, son of Odin! Bah! That the son of Odin must so proclaim himself -- ! Are there no heralds about? Nay... never when thou needest one! Unannounced, I enter this Earthly ‘mansion,’ poorer than the least dwelling in Asgard!”

Thor also wonders to himself that if he is chosen to take part in the new Avengers roster, will he choose to remain with them? One presumes he has a lot of Thor business going on. That’s why he left the team back when Moondragon was temping with them. She convinced him he was slumming by hanging with the Avengers.

OH. MEANWHILE. That Completely Normal Cab Driver?

He is seized by a strange compulsion. He parks his cab in an alley, takes off his clothes and -- MOON KNIGHT?

Inside, the Avengers are assembling for their meeting to find who is fired or not. Except they’ve decided to give the rinky conference room table a pass and are instead sitting around in a room with even fewer chairs and a table less conducive to holding a meeting.

Lateral move.

I’m wondering whether there was some miscommunication between writer and artist or what.

Cap tells the Avengers to find a place to sit (when there is only one visible chair) when Jarvis interrupts.

Moon Knight has shown up and demands to see the Avengers. And the automatic defenses that should have stopped him seem to have been switched off.

Moon Knight insists that the Avengers summoned him. That he was forced to come to the mansion. Which comes as news to the Avengers.

And then a whole bunch of other superheroes show up claiming that they were also forced to come here.

Hi Hercules, Hawkeye, Black Widow, Angel, Yellowjacket, Dazzler, Tigra, Black Panther, and Iceman!

So that explains the cover.

Wow, a cover that didn’t even lie!

There’s a hustle and bustle of the various superheroes complaining about being here because they had better things to be doing. Black Panther is late for a meeting to speak with the UN Security Council!

And Dazzler complains because its too cold to sit next to Iceman. And Iceman is just like ‘it be like that.’

Oh and Tigra seems to decide to get in some impromptu yoga. Don’t know what the deal with that is. But cats be like that sometimes.

Moon Knight sees all these heroes here and comes to the conclusion that this is some weird Avengers membership drive. But he is very not interested in this!

Yeah, I don’t know that a mysterious vigilante who mostly operates in the shadows would be a good match for a public superhero team.

Cough.

Iceman too is like sorry but I’m not into the hero stuff. I was on the Champions. I did my time!

So he and Moon Knight turn to leave. Iceman saying he’s going to need to find a cab and Moon Knight clearing knowing that he’s going to be picking up that fare.

But when they get near the door, the two freeze.

I realize that Iceman is involved so I mean that they suddenly stopped moving.

And they get super belligerent at each other and start fighting. With Iceman expositing about his skills. Which is normal for a comic. But seems a bit weird in the context of whats going on.

Iceman: “I feel compelled to explain how my X-Men training helped me to get the most out of my mutant ability to freeze the moisture in the air!”

And he freezes the ground under Moon Knight’s feet so he slips like a doofus.

But when he goes to finish the fight, Iceman’s head suddenly starts to hurt. Which he says is like someone else is in his head with him. He can’t think clearly enough.

While Iceman is distracted, Moon Knight throws some of his moonerangs at Iceman who blocks them. But neither can continue as the pain in their heads incapacitates them both.

Yellowjacket: “Wait a minute! I know who must be behind this! That arrogant self-styled g-- *uhh*”

And Yellowjacket freezes in place, as if in a trance.

The Avengers are concerned but Angel suddenly starts flying around the room, saying he can’t resist, he just has to flyyyyyy

Which apparently offends Tigra for some reason. Some mysterious reason. How mysterious.

Angel: “The Angel’s in the air! Watch me do my stuff!”

Tigra: “So, you think you’re pretty special, huh, Wings? Well, you’re just another bird to Tigra, the She-Cat -- and cats eat birds!”

Angel: “Sounds wild -- ! But you’ve got to catch me first!”

Tigra: “I will Bird-Man! I will -- with my nice, sharp claws! And, once I do, I’m plenty strong enough -- to tear your precious little wings right off!”

Eeeeeeeeesh. Well that’s retroactively a sore subject. Angel has his wings badly injured during the Mutant Massacre storyline and they end up amputated, sending him into a depression. And then stuff happens stuff happens, its his college roommate Cameron Hodges’ fault, Apocalypse gives Angel metal murder wings.

But in the here and now before that series of events, we must assume something similar to the sudden antagonism between Moon Knight and Iceman.

Something weird is going on and stating out loud that you’ve figured out what just gets you put in a trance.

Of course, I know what’s going on because I peeked ahead so I’ll just go ahead and tell you its M- *uhh*

Hahah, just kidding! Can you imagine, though? Anyway, its Moondragon.

She’s lurking behind the Avengers watching them watch this nonsense. They don’t notice her because she’s decided she doesn’t want them to. Until she does.

But before that, hey, time to call out Beast.

Beast: “Hey-- ! That’s not a costume! Tigra’s for real! She’s like a cat ... covered with fur -- like me! I should be thrilled, I guess... But instead, I find it vaguely unsettling!”

Look, furries can’t judge furries for being furry. Its the law.

Anyway, Moondragon lets the Avengers notice her and they turn around and go ‘oh ffs its Moondragon’ more or less.

Moondragon: “I sensed your need for order... for organization! So I returned!”

Iron Man: “What?! What right do you have to interfere?”

Moondragon: “Why, divine right, naturally!”

You may not like her but you have to admire her confidence.

She recaps her backstory a bit, including her belief that she’s Actually A Goddess of Mind. Because she was raised by the demigods of Titan and she’s super psychic.

I’m not sure how super psychic. I don’t think she and Jean Grey, for example, have ever locked horns. And Jean Grey is kind of the byword for super psychic.

She’s at least psychic enough that she gave Daredevil his vision back. I think that’s psychic?

I do wonder how Moondragon stacks up on the Grey scale. But not enough that I want that kind of dick waving contest between the Avengers and X-Men. There’s enough of that already.

So after explaining how great she is the Avengers basically react with ‘oh ffs, we did not miss this’ and ask what this has to do with this circus.

Moondragon: “Come now, Iron Man! Who better than I to bring order to the tangled affairs of this company? When last I left this august assemblage, my status was still Avenger-on-call -- meaning that I would aid you in times of dire need! I am needed now! -- And so I am here!”

Iron Man: “Swell.”

I think I’ve actually missed her advanced state of arrogance. Or maybe I’m just charitably inclined to her because she and Phyla-Vell got back together and alive in the current Guardians of the Galaxy run.

Anyway, Hawkeye has not missed her advanced state of arrogance and decides to peace out. He’s got an actual paying job to do and he’s late for work because Moondragon dragged him out here.

Moondragon tells him he can go. FOR HIS FATE LEADS HIM AWAY FROM THE AVENGERS FOR NOW!

Hawkeye: “Baldy, if you’re so hot why couldn’t you figure that out without dragging me across town?”

Good point, Hawkeye.

Honestly? I think she did it to troll you.

Black Widow and Black Panther also take off. Black Panther to his UN thing and Black Widow back to her job with SHIELD.

Moondragon doesn’t stop them. So I’m guessing their fates also lead them away from the Avengers for now. But. Why bring them? They didn’t do anything?

Moondragon, were you just padding out the numbers for a more exciting cover? Dammit, Moondragon!

Hawkeye is Hawkeye and thus extra extra so he shoots a suction cup arrow at a helicopter to hitch a ride instead of taking a taxi. And as he dangles from it, he muses melancholic about what Black Widow and he once had. And ironically, Black Widow is also thinking about him and sure that he doesn’t care for her anymore.

Womp womp.

Inside the mansion, Moondragon decides to continue, to the protests of Thor, Iron Man, and Captain America.

So she yells SILENCE! and paralyzes them, just like with Yellowjacket.

The assorted crowd of everyoen else fusses and wonders what to do but Moondragon takes charge and demands that Dazzler show her stuff.

Or rather:

Moondragon: “You use your gift frivolously... as part of a musical act! Please demonstrate!”

That’s... a way to request that, yes.

Dazzler doesn’t like her tone but decides to demonstrate anyway. Cranking her pocket radio and converting the sound waves into a dazzling light show.

Dazzler: “I.... uh. Also skate! Not much of a power, huh?”

Moondragon: “Hmm! Greater than you suspect... but i sense that your desire to be a minstrel is deep and sincere!”

Minstrel? Really? Psychics have no excuse for not knowing the right word.

I’m getting a real mixed vibe from Moondragon talking to Dazzler. Its like she’s being condescending and complimentary at the same time.

But since she senses that Dazzler just wants to do disco stuff, she tells her that she can go.

Dazzler isn’t sure whether to leave the Avengers to deal with this or as she thinks “Baldy’s rap sounds real cool but this scene is definitely tense!” but Scarlet Witch tells her it will be alright.

So Dazzler goes. “When the Scarlet Witch says go -- I go!”

Dazzler knows the score.

With Dazzler gone, Moondragon is like ‘welp lets get back on with it’ but Scarlet Witch has had it.

Scarlet Witch: “Enough! We demand that you cease this outrage! We can make our own decisions.”

Moondragon: “Can you? Some of you would choose to stay out of force of habit... or loneliness... or fear of failure in the world beyond these walls! You are children! It is far better that I choose!”

And now Iron Man has had enough. And has also had an idea.

While his body may have been paralyzed by Moondragon, a lot of his armor functions are thought activated because, hey, I don’t see a lot of buttons on him, do you?

So all he has to do is think WHOOOSHy thoughts and WHOOOSH he goes, flying through the ceiling of Avengers Mansion. For once, it is Tony Stark who destroys Tony Stark’s home.

And once he’s outside Avengers Mansion, he is apparently far enough outside her range that he can now move. And since “brainwaves are electromagnetic in nature” he turns on his built-in transceiver to emit a microwave psionic jamming signal.

Which is something that he just can do!

The effect of which is that it’ll make Moondragon “feel like she’s got static on every channel!”

Sure!

Kind of reminds me of the First Foundation’s anti-psychic defenses they made against the Second Foundation. Ah, classic sci-fi. Sometimes it teaches us things like how to fight specifically Moondragon.

Moondragon is sure that she can overcome the jamming if she can just regain her concentration but...

With psychic frequencies jammed, the paralyzed Avengers start to spring into action.

So she just puts up a force field. Projected from her spaceship in Earth orbit and activated with a remote control in her glove.

Aside from the other things I’ve given Moondragon, I’ll also give her this: she came prepared.

Moondragon: “Why must you resist me so? Why can you not simply acknowledge that you need my godly guidance? We are wasting valuable time! I have yet another group of candidates to summon... but I cannot dally here much longer!”

I really want to know who her B Squad would have been.

But with the Avengers trying to break down her force field and Iron Man swooping back in to help, Moondragon decides ‘hey fuck this actually’ and teleports away.

Moondragon: “By the braided ring! How naive... how foolish you are! Perhaps I am wasting my time on your petty affairs! All right then -- enough! Have it your way! I am needed elsewhere in the galaxy! Farewell!”

And she doesn’t die on the way back to her home planet.

I do like that she recontextualizes the scenario as being actually this is a waste of her time and she’s just throwing pearls before swine. She’s going to go somewhere that appreciates the work she’s doing out of the goodness of her heart.

She is horrible. And like with Emma Frost, I just kinda appreciate that in a character.

With Moondragon not here to force people to stay, Thor tells all the non-Avengers to fuck off. Not very gracious, Thor. They were forced to come.

Iceman leaves and reminds everyone and me that his life goal is actually to be an accountant. Something I’m surprised by every time I hear it.

He even offers to help the Avengers with their budgets or tax forms. Heck of a guy.

Angel also leaves but muses that he kind of hates to.

Angel: “I... sort of hate to leave! I haven’t really done much with my life since the Champions broke up! -- Besides hang around with the X-Men a little! I never thought about becoming an Avenger --! Maybe I ought to!”

This is the thought process that will probably lead him to form X-Factor and that road leads to Cameron Hodge and Angel becoming Archangel. Dammit, Moondragon!

Although, the X-Man I really want on an Avengers team is Cyclops. He’s so defined by being an X-Man and by being a leader of X-Men, I want to see what he does on a team that already has plenty of leaders. I want to see if he goes through a weird character transformation like Beast and becomes relentlessly chill.

Alas.

Anyway, Tigra speaks up and says “I gather that you guys weren’t really looking for new members, but now that I’m here... uh, any chance?”

Cap is dubious because he doesn’t know a thing about Tigra (except that he gave her clothes to Patsy Walker) but Hercules is like hey we all saw how she tried to beat up Moondragon, that shows she has mettle.

Plus, there are Avengers that Hercules knows nothing about, which is totally the same thing.

Hercules: “You, for instance! You are called Wonder Man, though in sooth, I know not why!”

Wonder Man: “Really? Well, I... I’m as strong as Thor... almost...”

Hercules: “Eh? What?! HAVE AT THEE, THEN!”

And then he punches Wonder Man through a wall.

God, I love Hercules.

And then he tries to wrassle him, just pleased as all get out that Wonder Man is still conscious after Hercules gave him a big punch. “What fun!”

Wonder Man is less pleased.

Wonder Man: “Why are you doing this? Why are you attacking me for no reason?”

Hercules: “Men must brawl to know one another! How better to learn the measure of a man -- ? And what greater gift can a man give another than the thrill, the glory, the joy of battle? I am a friendly fellow who would often give this gift -- but, alas, most mortals are too frail to receive it. You are not, though! You and I may batter freely!”

Hercules just wants to punch people to be friendly but poor guy is just too swole for most men. He needs a real sturdy friend to beat the shit out of.

Wonder Man squirms out of the wrassle and clocks Hercules through a different wall. As the Avengers just watch like ‘yup this is the kind of day this has been.’

Hercules is in good spirit about being clocked through a wall and decides that now he and Wonder Man are friends and that Wonder Man is truly worthy to be an Avenger.

Wonder Man sheepishly mentions that actually he was quitting to pursue a career in acting and WHY HERCULES LIKES THAT JUST AS WELL!

Hercules: “Acting? Why of late, Hercules has kept company with those mortals known as the ‘jet set.’ I know many producers and directors! Come, I’ll introduce you to them! And the women, friend Wonder Man!”

Captain America, bemused: “you meet some strange folks in this business.”

There’s an non-existent Wonder Man and Hercules Take Hollywood Buddy Comedy Book and its a crime that its non-existent.

Geez, Marvel. GEEZ.

Anyway, that’s Wonder Man gone. Out of one buddy comedy into another.

Tigra reminds the Avengers that she’s still here and still wants to be in the Avengers.

Tigra: “Yeah... uh, back to my little problem... I’ve been at loose ends for a while... and I really want to belong somewhere! I know I could cut it as an Avenger! Please?”

This time, the objection is that the Avengers just don’t have room for a new person. They were trying to pare back! Not recruit!

But Beast interjects and reveals he is also leaving.

Beast: “Wondy and I had a talk this morning that started me thinking -- and I hate to admit it, but a couple of things Moondragon said hit home! You know, I used to be a scientist! I used to have a future besides my next gag and tomorrow night’s date! I want to see if there’s anything left of Hank McCoy besides a ‘blue-furred buffoon!’“

Hank’s early character beats on the Avengers were him struggling to find what his place on the team would be. He couldn’t be the strongest with Iron Man or Thor on the team. He couldn’t be the smartest with Iron Man again, Black Panther, or Yellowjacket. Wonder Man joining the team. Wonder Man joining the team gave Beast someone to be there for and with. But mostly Beast’s tenure has been kind of... party time for him. He’s been the fun member of the team. Going out to parties and juggling multiple dates and telling jokes.

Its been a fun time for Beast but he’s not really been living up to his potential And there were times he could have become the scientist on the team again. Or helped as one. Yellowjacket hasn’t been on the team as a core member for a bit. But he stuck in his role as the team clown.

Like with Thor, Moondragon has convinced Beast that he’s been sort of slumming it with the Avengers and now he’s gotta go rethink his character.

Where does this lead him? Why, he’s going to join the Defenders! And going to try to get that non-team team more organized like a team team. Is this a good thing? I don’t know, I haven’t read a lot of Defenders! Hopefully the Defenders podcast I listen to gets to that point soon!

But Beast isn’t the only one Moondragon has swayed.

Vision and Scarlet Witch likewise announce that they’re quitting the Avengers.

Vision: “Perhaps we will not succeed in finding a place among ordinary people -- but we must try!”

So perhaps influenced as well by the conversation Wanda had with Jan where Wasp wasn’t worried about losing her spot on the team. Which Wanda attributed to Jan having a life outside the Avengers. And apparently Wanda and Vision have been afraid to try for that. Until Moondragon dunked on her for it.

Geez. If there’s anything Moondragon is good at, its getting Avengers to quit the team. She got Thor and Hellcat last time. This time she got Beast, Vision, and Scarlet Witch.

So there’s room for Tigra now but also too much room. They were aiming for six and even with Tigra, they’d only have FIVE THERES ONLY FIVE CLEARLY.

Jocasta, in the background: -saddest robot in the world-

Yellowjacket shrugs and decides to rejoin as a full-time member to get the number up to six. His research hasn’t been going great lately anyway so he has time in his schedule.

Feeling overlooked, just like last issue, which was a filler which was supposed to address the Avengers overlooking her, Jocasta decides to slink away. Just leaps out the window and runs away from home.

Jocasta: “They didn’t even notice me... didn’t count me! Was it an oversight? Or had everyone already made up their minds that I would be one of those eliminated? What difference does it make? I am nothing to them! They do not want me here! Maybe I’ll find someplace where I am wanted! Maybe I’ll find someone... who loves me!”

And where does Jocasta go from here?

She wanders the country looking for love, presumably in all the wrong places, and is seized by a per-programmed compulsion to rebuild Ultron. This leads to a big team up between the Thing, Machine Man, and her and Jocasta sacrifices herself to help stop Ultron. The Avengers hold a memorial and Machine Man attends, realizing that he had loved Jocasta.

So plus side: she does find someone to love her. Minus side: she dies and also its Machine Man.

Double plus side: she’s eventually rebuilt. Dies a couple more times. But she’s currently alive.

It’s going to turn out that this was a failure of communication.

(On the team less than a day after basically begging to join and she’s already made herself at home and is hogging the entire couch. How very cat of you, Tigra.)

Iron Man, Captain America, and Thor had decided privately to ask her to stay on as a Special Substitute Avenger, keep living in the mansion, and help out when its needed.

In the hubbub of Moondragon’s recruitment drive I guess they forgot to bring it up. I feel like its something you should have approached her with before the meeting, just to make sure she was okay with it.

Hindsight and all.

The snubbing from Vision definitely didn’t help.

Iron Man: “I hope she comes back! -- And I sure hope Moondragon doesn’t!”

Hah.

I do wonder what the initial plan going into the meeting would have been, before Moondragon took it over. What roster had Iron Man, Thor, and Captain America decided on before Moondragon talked three Avengers into quitting and introduced Tigra to the team?

I guess we’ll never knoooow.

Captain America muses that although it seems like they drove Moondragon away, she may have gotten what she actually wanted. “What if she used her mental powers subtly to influence the decisions that were made?”

And its possible because of how her speech influenced the three people who quit.

The thought just about makes Iron Man furious.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on it because the news shows up to get coverage of the last panel new roster AVENGERS ASSEMBLE! moment.

I do love a good last panel new roster Avengers Assemble moment.

And that was Jim Shooter’s first issue back. And a pretty great first issue too.

Not that the previous issues have been bad necessarily but he definitely brought a sense of fun to this issue. Even though there’s some forced fighting for those ACTION SCENES most of it is just character interactions. Even some of the pointless fights.

And like writers like to do when they take over a book, Jim Shooter draws a line in the history with a shake-up to the team roster. Reintroduces Moondragon into the book because he has unfinished business with her.

I’ve actually been reading the original Star Brand book by Shooter and the writing is night and day. Its all text text text words words words but its much punchier here. Though there are some strange spelling and punctuation choices.

Still, I’m excited to have a consistent writer back on and I’m even excited about it being Jim Shooter. I hated his first run on the book on first read and then appreciated it more the second time through. And I’ve heard interesting stuff about this upcoming run.

Psst, follow @essential-avengers. You are being mentally influenced by Moondragon to do so. Wait, this is a counterproductive self-promote. Er, like and reblog because you choose to?

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weekendwarriorblog · 3 years

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The Weekend Warrior 12/4/20 – HALF BROTHERS, THE PROM, I’M YOUR WOMAN, BLACK BEAR, LUXOR, ANOTHER ROUND, ALL MY LIFE, NOMADLAND, MANK and Much More!

I hope everyone had an absolutely wonderful Thanksgiving. Mine was relatively uneventful, and I only spent most of my time watching movies. And holy shit, there are a LOT of movies out this week, but at least a few of them I’ve already seen and reviewed, and there are others that are actually pretty good, so I might as well get to it, hm?

First up is this week’s Focus Features theatrical release, HALF BROTHERS, a buddy road comedy directed by Luke Greenfield (Blue Streak, Let’s Be Cops) that’s fairly high concept but also with quite a bit more depth than the director’s previous movies. It stars Luis Gerardo Méndez as Renato Murguia, a wealthy Mexican businessman whose father left him to come to America when Renato was just a child. Just as Renato is about to get married while having issues connecting to his future stepson Emilio, he gets a call that his own father is dying, so he begrudgingly goes to see him. Once there, Renato’s dying father sends him on a scavenger hunt to find someone named “Eloise” with his annoying slacker half-brother Asher (Connor del Rio), because that will provide all the answers Renato is looking for on why his father never returned from America, remarried and had another son. What could possibly go wrong?

If you’ve seen any of the ads for Half Brothers, you may already presume that this is a fairly high-concept buddy road comedy that is constantly going for the zaniest and craziest of laughs. That probably would only be maybe 25% of the movie. Instead, this fairly mainstream comedy finds a way to take a very common comedy trope and throw in enough heartfelt moments that you can forgive the few times when it does go for low-hanging fruit. We’ve seen so many movies like this where two guys (or sometimes ladies, but not as often) are paired with one having zero patience or tolerance for the other, who is beyond aggravating to them. (Planes, Trains and Automobiles is one of the better ones.) Obviously, Renato fits snugly into the first category, and Asher could not be more annoying, very early on stealing a goat for no particular reason.

The Mexican angle and the fact that a lot of the film is in Spanish – Focus getting into Pantelion territory here? – does add to make Half Brothers feel like more of a personal story than we might normally see in this kind of movie, touching upon the immigrant experience, from the viewpoint of a low-paid worker as well as a well-to-do industrialist. It also deals with things like fatherhood and brotherhood and what it means to be one or both, so everything ultimately connects far better in the end than some might expect. I also want to give the filmmakers credit for putting together a cast of mostly unknown or little-known actors and getting such great results out of them.

On the surface, Half Brothers seems like just another buddy comedy, but underneath, it’s a heartfelt and emotional journey that touches in so many ways and ends up being quite enjoyable.

Another movie opening nationwide this Friday is ALL MY LIFE (Universal), starring Jessica (Happy Death Day) Rothe as Jennifer Carter and Harry (Crazy Rich Asians) Shum Jr. as Solomon Chau, whose wedding plans are thrown off when he is diagnosed with liver cancer. They realize they have to get married sooner since he might not live to make their planned date, so their friends launch a fundraiser so that they can get married in two weeks. The movie is directed by Marc Meyers (My Friend Dahmer), who is a more than capable filmmaker with this being his third movie in the last two years.

Now that I’ve actually seen the movie… I’ll freely admit that this is not the kind of movie I usually have very high expectations for, and maybe that’s because I’ve already been burnt twice this year with real-life romantic dramas, first with the faith-based I Still Believe in March and then more recently with Two Hearts. In both cases, I could count the issues and why they failed to tug at the heart strings as they were meant to do. Even though I’ve generally enjoyed Meyers’ past movies, I wasn’t even sure he could pull off this type of studio romance movie without having to cowtow to the corny clichés that always seem to slip in – or at least find a way to make them more palatable. (And let’s be realistic. This is the kind of movie that snobby film critics just LOVE to trash.)

First of all, Meyers already has two truly fantastic leads working in his movie’s favor. I’ve been a true Jessica Rothe stan ever since seeing her kill it in Happy Death Day and its sequel. Shum is perfectly paired with her, and the two of them are so good from the moment they first meet and we meet them. In every scene, you feel like you’re watching some of that rare on-screen romantic chemistry that’s so hard to fake. Their relationship is romantic and goofy, and you’re just rooting for them all the way through even if you do know what’s to come.

Eventually, Sol does fall ill, and it does lead to some more dramatic and tougher moments between the couple, but all of it is handled so tastefully, including their need to raise money so they can have their wedding rather than waiting. I am living proof that people really do come together to step up when they see someone in real need, so I couldn’t even tut tut at something like their fundraiser getting so many people to chip in. On top of his two leads, Meyers has assembled such a great cast around the duo, the most recognizable being Jay Pharaoh from Saturday Night Live, everyone around Jess and Sol handles the requisite emotions with nary a weak link.

There’s just so much other stuff that adds to the enjoyment of watching All My Life from the use of Oasis and Pat Benatar in the soundtrack just to the quality storytelling that makes it all feel quite believable. These sorts of movies tend to be rather corny and the diehard cynic who doesn’t have an ounce of romance or love in their body will find things to hate.

All My Life finds its way into your heart by being one of those rare studio romance movies that understands how human emotions truly work, and there’s nothing corny about that. It’s a beautiful movie that entertains but also elicits more than a few tears. Watch it with someone you love.

This week’s “Featured Flick” is Chloe Zhao’s amazing film NOMADLAND (Searchlight), which I reviewed out of its Toronto International Film Festival premiere, but it’s (sort of) being released in theaters this week. It stars Frances McDormand as Fern, a woman living in her van as she moves from place to place taking odd jobs within a community of nomads. It’s another amazing film from the filmmaker behind The Rider, who will make her foray into the Marvel Cinematic Universe next year with The Eternals, which I’m just as psyched about. There’s no denying that McDormand gives a performance that’s a knock-out, even better than the one in 3 Billboards if you ask me, and there’s also a great supporting role for David Strathairn, who I’ve been hoping would have another role as good as this one. Zhao is just a fantastic filmmaker, and I’m glad to see that The Rider was no fluke.

Unfortunately, Nomadland is only getting a one-week Oscar qualifying run, and I’m not even sure where it’s getting that run since theaters in New York and L.A. aren’t even open yet. Maybe Searchlight will do some drive-in screenings like they did for the New York Film Festival and Telluride? It will get a stronger theatrical release (hopefully) on February 21, just to make doubly sure it qualifies for Oscars.

Opening in theaters this week before streaming on Netflix December 11 is Ryan Murphy’s adaptation of the Broadway musical THE PROM, the first feature film he’s directed in ten years. The multiple Tony-nominated musical is about a high school girl named Emma (newcomer Jo Ellan Pellman) who wants to take her girlfriend (Ariana DeBose) to their senior prom, but the head of the PTA (Kerry Washington) cancels the prom instead. The national outrage the situation creates gets the attention of a quintet of self-absorbed Broadway actors who decide to improve their PR by taking up Emma’s cause. Oh, yeah, and those actors are played by Meryl Streep, James Corden, Nicole Kidman, and actual Broadway stars Andrew Rannells and Kevin Chamberlin. What could possibly go wrong?

I’ve never had any sort of positive or negative gut reaction to Murphy’s work on television over the past few years, but I’ve definitely been mixed on the three movies he’s directed to date. I wasn’t a huge fan of his Eat Pray Love, though I vaguely remember enjoying his debut, Running with Scissors. Either way, he certainly has found his niche with musicals from Glee (a show I’ve never watched) and finding a musical like The Promseems to be a perfect fit between filmmaker and material.

Having not seen The Prom on Broadway – surprise, surprise -- I was a little worried that it was going to go down the path of nudge-nudge wink-wink inside Broadway path that helped Mel Brooks’ The Producers become a Broadway hit. That I saw, and I didn’t hate the movie based on it, although I’m by no means a total movie-musical stan. There’s some obvious older ones I love, some newer ones that others love but I hated – Rob Marshall is about 50/50 for me -- and you might be surprised by which of them I liked best.

What I thoroughly enjoyed about The Prom is that Murphy manages to truly surprise everyone watching it, whether it’s in Kerry Washington’s single song – who knew she had such an amazing singing voice? – or how enjoyable Keegan-Michael Key is as the school’s Principal Hawkins, who not only loves musicals but actually admires Streep’s two-time Tony-award winning Dee Dee Allen. Considering my frequent disdain for Streep’s over-confidence, knowing full well that she’s one of the best living actors working today, she’s actually pretty amazing in the role of what many must assume Streep is like in real life, which makes her character more than a little META. In some ways, I can say the same for Corden, who is pretty fantastic as Dee Dee’s frequent stage co-star Barry Glickman, who has his own connections to Emma’s plight having been disowned by his mother (Tracey Ullman, who only shows up for one brief scene late in the movie) when he came out to her. Corden has one dramatic moment so powerful I was taken quite aback.

Even with those two actors and Kidman likely to get much of the attention, there’s no denying that the romance between Hellman and Debose, and the three or four numbers they have together, makes up the true heart and soul of The Prom. So here you have this amazing cast, and it’s a musical made-up of very fun and quite catchy songs, and that’s long before you get to Andrew Rannells as out-of-work actor Trent Oliver, who practically steals the whole movie with his showstopper of a number, “Love Thy Neighbor.” And then watching Key holding his own with Streep, both musically and dramatically, you might start wondering, “What is going on here?”

Like I said before, it’s pretty obvious that Murphy has fully poured his passion of movie-musicals into every second of The Prom, and it shows on the face of everyone joining him on this adventure. As much as the subject at the film’s core is fairly serious and a hurdle that many gay kids across the world every day, it’s also quite funny. Kudos must be given to Murphy for being able to emphasize those moments as well as the more dramatic ones. Besides that, Murphy really takes advantage of being able to go to different locations, including a sequence on Broadway that could have been done during the pandemic (it actually was built on a soundstage), another number at an actual mall and even at a monster truck rally. It also doesn’t hurt that Murphy hired Matthew Libatique, a god-like cinematographer in my book, to film the movie either.

Like most musicals, The Prom might lose a little as it goes along, since it gets to be too much that goes on for too long, but then there are more than enough great moments to pull you back. It’s by far one of the stronger movie musicals I’ve seen in a very long time, and just the right feel-good experience we all need right now.

I’ve already reviewed David Fincher’s MANK – a few times, in fact – but if you’re in one of the places where it opened theatrically in November, you can finally see it on Netflix starting this Friday. This is the general problem with the way things are these days because even though this only opened a few weeks ago, I already feel that it’s been discussed and forgotten before most people will have a chance to see it. Anyway, if for some reason, you’ve managed to avoid things about the movie, it essentially stars Gary Oldman as Herman Mankiewicz, the Hollywood screenwriter who ended up co-writing Orson Welles’ Citizen Kane in 1940. The film follows Mankiewicz as he mingles with the Hollywood elite in the 30s, including billionaire William Randolph Hearst (Charles Dance) and his young ingenue girlfriend Marion Davies (Amanda Seyfried) who would be the influence for his Oscar-winning screenplay. I expect to be writing a lot about this movie as we get closer to Oscar season sometime next year.

Also on Netflix this week is Selena: The Series, starring Christian Serratos. It’s the kind of thing that I probably would never watch unless I have an excess of time, and as you’re about to learn from the rest of the column, that doesn’t happen frequently.

The third chapter of Steve McQueen’s “Small Axe Anthology,” RED WHITE AND BLUE, will debut on Prime Video this Sunday, starring John Boyega as Leroy Logan, a young black man who joins the Metropolitan Police after seeing his father assaulted by police and wanting to make a difference in the racist attitudes from within. You might remember that I reviewed this out of the New York Film Festival a couple months back, so not much more to say there.

A week from Sunday, on December 13, McQueen’s fourth film, ALEX WHEATLE, will hit Amazon, and guess what? I’ve already seen it, so I will review it now. How about that? Alex Wheatle is also a true story, this one starring Sheyi Cole as the award-winning young adult writer when he was a younger and just learning the ropes as a drugdealer/DJ in Brixton before his involvement in the 1981 Brixton riots gets him thrown in jail.

As with the other three movies in the “Small Axe Anthology” there are recurring elements and themes in Alex Wheatle, mostly about the way the immigrants to England from Jamaica and other islands are treated by “The Beast” aka what they call the Metropolitan Police. It does take a little time to get to that, as McQueen, working from a screenplay co-written by Mangrove’s Alaistar Siddons, takes a far more non-linear approach than the other three films. We first see Wheatle being taken into prison where he’s thrown into a cell with a constantly-shitting Rastafarian, but we then cut back to his schooling for a short sequence that reminded me of Alan Clarke’s Scum. Both in prison and in school, we see Alex being abused by classmates and head matron alike, and this portion of the film includes another one of arty moments of actor Cole laying on the ground eyes wide open staring for what seems to go on forever. In some ways, this sequence reminds me of McQueen’s fantastic early film Hunger, since it seems to be cut from similar cloth.

Eventually, Alex gets to Brixton and that’s where this chapter in “Small Axe” really takes off as we see how naïve and green he is while dealing with quite a tough crowd and trying to adjust to city life among the Rastafarian community.

As with the other “Small Axe” chapters, I love how McQueen and his team used reggae music to help set the tone and vibe for the episode, because like Baz Lurhman’s Netflix series The Get Down, the music is frequently a key to this biopic working so well. Of course, it’s also due to the performance by Cole and the actors around him that helps make you feel as if you’re seeing a real part of history.

As with Mangrove, this chapter culminates with an amazing recreation of the 1981 Brixton Riots, done in protest after a house party fire in New Cross that the police don’t bother investigating. The actual riots were a much bigger and scarier event going by Wikipedia which says that 279 police were injured and 56 police vehicles set fire, which makes it sound more like the ’92 L.A. Riots.

I’m not sure Alex Wheatle does as good a job explaining how the young man goes into prison as a DJ and comes out as an author, but like Red, White and Blue it’s still an important and inspirational story that adds quite a bit to the previous three “Small Axe” films.

And once again, here is my interview with McQueen from over at Below the Line.

Also, I should mention that Darius Marder’s excellent Sound of Metal movie, starring Riz Ahmed, hits Amazon Prime Video this Friday, too. Check out my review!

The magnificent Andrea Riseborough stars in Zeina Durra’s LUXOR (Samuel Goldwyn), playing British aid worker Hana who while spending time in the ancient city of Luxor, runs into her former lover Sultan (Karim Saleh), as she reflects on past decisions and her current uncertain situation.

I was quite interested in this one sight unseen, not only because it’s another great starring role for Riseborough. (Honestly, she is one of the best actors working today, and I strongly believe she is just one role away from being the next Olivia Colman, who had been amazing for years before everyone in America “discovered” her in The Favourite and then The Crown… which I still haven’t watched! ARGH!). I was a little anxious about the movie, having seen Rubba Nadda’s Cairo Time, starring Patricia Clarkson and Alexander Siddig, which seemingly had the exact same plot.

Durra is a much more capable and confident filmmaker and there’s a lot more overall value in watching Riseborough exploring Egypt as Durra quietly allows Hana’s story to unfold through her interactions with others, as well as her time alone, often languishing in one luxurious hotel room or another. Then there are the quiet and sometime awkward scenes between her and Saleh, the two of them having been lovers when they were both much younger. We also see Hana in far more vulnerable moments, so we know that she’s by no means actor, and it takes a great actor to really pull off such a dichotomy and bring such dimension to a character with so few words.

There’s something that’s almost comforting watching her dealing with emotions like loneliness in such a tranquil way. I’d even go so far to say that Luxor works in many ways similar to Nomadland, which obviously is getting the far more high-profile release with lots of festival love long before its actual release. Like that movie, Durra’s film benefits from having masterful cinematography by Zelmira Gainza and an equally gorgeous score by Nascuy Linares, to boot.

Luxor is a quiet, beautifully-made film that really took me by surprise. It acts as much like a travelogue of the title city as it does a tourist’s map to what it must feel like being a woman very much on her own in a foreign land.

I also spoke with Luxor filmmaker Zeina Durra, an interview that will be up at Below the Line hopefully sometime later this week.

With all the talk about Aubrey Plaza in Happiest Season (now on Hulu!), this would be a great time to release another one of her indies that played at the Sundance Film Festival this year, right? What can possibly go wrong?

In Lawrence Michael Levine’s BLACK BEAR (Momentum Pictures), Plaza plays Allison, an actor/filmmaker who arrives at the remote lake house of Christopher Abbott’s Gabe and his pregnant partner Blair (Sarah Gadon), to relax and work on a screenplay, only for the night to turn into philosophical discussions that transform into angry and even violent squabbles. In the second part of the movie, Gabe is the director, and Allison his actor wife, who thinks he’s sleeping with Blair, who is also acting in Gabe’s film.

That plot might seem a little vague, and I can’t exactly tell you whether there is much connection between the two parts of the movie other than it features the same three characters. The first half turns from a drama into a thriller before ending abruptly, while the second part is equal parts comedy and drama as we see a larger part of the world around the trio. In fact, the second part of Black Bear reminded me somewhat of Olivier Assayas’Irma Vep, one of my favorite movies, and that might be one of the highest compliments I can pay a movie.

But first, you have to get through the more quizzical and dramatic first part, which easily could have been done as a three-handed stageplay as we see the changing dynamics between the three people as things get crazier and crazier with one “Holy shit!” moment after the next. (It reminded me a little of Mamet or the play “Gods of Carnage,” although I only saw that as the movie version Carnage, directed by Roman Polanski.)

The fact the connection between the two parts is never explained might confound some people who were otherwise enjoying what is a pretty decent three-hander, but the common theme involves jealousy between the two women. Plaza is a fine dramatic actor when she wants to be, and Gadon is absolutely fantastic, which makes Abbot almost literally the odd man out, but the three of them just have great scenes together.

Black Bear is certainly an enigma of a movie, as much a mystery about what must be going on inside Plaza’s head during some of her softer and crazier scenes, but if you want to talk about range, this gives her so much material for her demo reel that no one could possibly doubt her as an actor again.

Thomas Vinterberg’s new movie ANOTHER ROUND (Samuel Goldwyn) reteams him with his The Hunt star Mads Mikkelsen for a comedy…. Ish… about a group of four middle aged Danish teachers who decide to hold an experiment to prove a theory that people only reach their maximum effectiveness and creativity when they’re .05% drunk. It starts out innocently enough but soon, the men are drinking heavily at school, leading to horrible and unfortunate side effects. I mean, what could possibly go wrong?

Even knowing Vinterberg’s knack for strange and twisted “comedies,” Another Round is definitely on another level, opening with a scene of drunken kids playing a drinking game that gets them so out-of-control drunk and rowdy. We then meet Mikkelsen’s Martin, a history teacher, whose rowdy seniors are so bored by his classroom technique that Martin is put in front of an inquisition of parents who think he’s going to make their kids fail their final exams. Martin’s home life isn’t much better with his wife Anika (Maria Bonnevie) or his own teen sons. Although Martin says he won’t drink when he has to drive, his friend Nikolaj (Magnus Millang) convinces him by announcing his theory about how everyone needs to always maintain a certain percentage of alcohol in their system. Over the course of the rest of the movie, we’re shown the alcohol level of our “heroes,” although most will see their behavior as some kind of synced-up middle life crisis. For Martin, it’s a breakthrough, as he starts feeling more confident and assertive towards his students, even trying to connect with them via their drinking activities, as seen in the opening montage.

Another Round is quite a different beast from The Hunt, because there’s a more humorous tone to the point where I could totally see an American studio trying to remake this with the likes of Will Ferrell and Adam Sandler, which would probably lose a lot of the poignancy of what Vinberberg was trying to achieve here. At one point, he throws in a montage of seemingly drunk world leaders, which is kind of amusing even if it’s not quite so apparent why it’s there. There’s a lot of really bad white guy dancing, too, for anyone who is into that sort of thing.

There is definitely a good amount of grief and sadness to the way this story resolves, although Vinterberg still finds a way to leave Martin in a place of joy with a closing scene that may surprise a lot of people. Another Round is another tremendous feather in the cap of the Vinterberg/Mikkelsen collaboration, and it will be in select theaters this Friday before going to digital on December 18.

Another Round will be in select theaters this Friday and then on digital December 18.

Fast Color director Julia Hart returns with I’M YOUR WOMAN (Amazon), once again co-written with husband Jordan Horowitz. It stars Rachel Brosnahan from The Amazing Mrs. Maisel (which I haven’t seen) as Jean, a woman unable to have a baby with her small-time crook husband Eddie. One night, Eddie brings home a baby for Jean, but then he quickly vanishes and Jean finds herself on the run with a stolen baby and one of Eddie’s accomplices, Cal (Arinzé Kene), and there are bad men wanting to question Jean about her missing husband’s whereabouts.

This is another movie where I really didn’t know what to expect, and having not watched Brosnahan on her award-winning show, I was watching this movie trying to figure out what all the fuss was about. It’s evident from the start that Hart/Horowitz were trying to make a ‘70s-set movie with all the trappings of ‘70s fashion and music, but when you throw in the crime element, it comes across a little too much like last year’s The Kitchen, which wasn’t very good but also wasn’t based on very good source material.

One would presume that the genre elements and a few scattered set pieces, like a shootout at a club, would be the main draw, but it’s almost 30 minutes before we even get any sort of plot, and that’s a big problem. An even bigger problem is that I’m Your Woman just drags for so much of the movie, and it’s pretty obvious that Hart-Horowitz were trying to create a ‘70s movie like some of the films by Scorsese and the movies John Cassavetes made with wife Gena Rowlands. By comparison, I’m Your Woman is stylized almost to a pretentious degree. Brosnahan does show a few glimpses of there being a good actor in there, but the material just really isn’t quite up to snuff. It also doesn’t help the movie to have the baby crying almost non-stop throughout.

Jean eventually pairs up with Cal’s woman Teri (Martha Stephanie Blake), her son Paul and Cal’s father (played by Frankie Faison), and this is when she learns more about Eddie’s life that she doesn’t know about. Eventually, things start to pick up in the last act, but the multiple problems Hart has with maintaining a steady pace or tone only mildly is made up for by her terrific DP and whoever put together the musical score. Essentially, the last 30 minutes of I’m Your Woman does make up for the previous 85 minutes, but it’s going to be very hard for many people to even get through how dull the movie is up until that point.

This is a week with some very fine docs, the first one being Weixi Chen and Hao Wu*’s cinema verité film 76 DAYS (MTV Documentary Films), which goes behind the doors of the Wuhan ICU Red Cross hospital over the first 76 days of the COVID pandemic after it hit the rural area of China. (*One of the film’s co-directors/cinematographers shot the film anonymously.)

Here I thought that Alex Gibney’s Totally Under Control would be the best or maybe even only movie about the pandemic released this year, but here we have a fantastic documentary that captures what it was really like in one Wuhan hospital as it was nearly overrun months before COVID started to rear its ugly head in the States. The film begins in January 23, 2020 and follows a number of cases as we watch the personnel, all decked out in head-to-toe PPE, trying to save lives and keep people calm while trying to struggle with all the stresses that come their way. There’s actually a little bit of humor in a cranky elderly man (clearly with some form of dementia) who keeps wandering around the hospital, frustrating his tenders, but there’s also a very moving story of a young pregnant woman who has contracted COVID, who ends up being separated from her baby after a Cesarian section.

There are moments early in the movie where you can see panic starting to set in as we see how out of control things begin, but the anonymous health care workers soon get things underhand and manage to find a way to deal with the panic that’s setting in. There’s no question that these doctors and nurses – many whose faces we never even see -- are the definition of frontline workers, trying to deal with this unknown virus without all the answers and solutions that have been discovered over the past ten months.

76 Days will open via the Film Forum Virtual Cinema as well as other places presumably.

I’m glad I had Dana Nachman’s DEAR SANTA (IFC Films) to watch after 76 Days, because I don’t think I could have handled another dark or deep movie after that one. This doc is all about “Operation Santa,” the amazing group of volunteers and adopters who receive the letters young kids write to the North Pole and go out of their way to fulfill the kids’ wishes.

I was a big fan of Nachman’s Pick of the Litter, so I’m thrilled to say that Dear Santa is just as wonderful and joyous, starting with a bunch of kids explaining Santa Clause enthusiastically, because they really believe in Jolly Saint Nick. Over the course of the film, Nachman profiles a number of Adopter Elves, who look through the letters written to Santa by unfortunate kids and pick a few to fulfill their wishes. A lot of them are in New York and Chicago where the program has led to a number of non-profits, but Nachman also goes to Chico, California where many of the families from Paradise, the town destroyed by fires in 2018, ended up relocation. One story of an Adopter Elf named Damion is particularly wonderful, since he, like many of those who get involved in the program, are trying to give back and pay it forward.

Operation Santa is such a great program and Dear Santa is such a wonderful movie, I challenge anyone to watch it and not tear up from how big their heart will grow while watching it.

Julien Temple’s doc CROCK OF GOLD: A NIGHT WITH SHANE MACGOWAN (Magnolia Pictures) is pretty self-explanatory from its title, but as someone who was never really a Pogues fan, I was almost as entertained by Temple’s film as I was by Alex Winter’s Zappa about a musician who I actually was a fan of. Temple uses MacGowan’s own narration to tell his story from growing up in Ireland, the early days of punk that led to the Pogues and eventually, mainstream success.

My absolute adoration of well-made music docs is fairly well-known at this point, and you can’t really get much better in terms of music doc makers than Julien Temple, who had his cameras rolling in the early days of punk, captured one of David Bowie’s more interesting mainstream phases and also made a very cool movie about The Clash frontman, Joe Strummer.

Although I never really cared for The Pogues, that’s probably because I didn’t know them from their rowdier days and more from their mainstream success from “Fairytale of New York” but Temple’s movie rectifies that with some amazing footage from the band’s earlier days. Even more impressive is the footage and pictures of MacGowan during the late ‘70s dancing in the audience at Sex Pistols and other punk shows. (Temple even interviewed MacGowan during this period in the ‘70s, then put the footage in the movie.) As MacGowan tells his own story about growing up in Ireland, Temple frequently uses varied animation to recreate the stories being told, and that does a lot to embellish the cartoon nature of MacGowan’s storytelling.

I still think MacGowan is a bit of an asshole -- I’m sure he’d agree with that assessment -- but Temple has found a way into this very difficult musician, sometimes using close friends like Johnny Depp (a producer on the film) and Bobby Gillespie from Primal Scream to try to get MacGowan to open up about as much as he ever might. Crock of Gold is certainly an eye-opening portrait of the Pogues frontman that surprisingly offers something to enjoy even for those who never got into his music, but it also shows another dimension to his many fans. If nothing else, it’s a fine testament to why Temple is one of the best music doc filmmakers.

Magnolia held a bunch of one-night only theatrical screenings on Tuesday and will have more on Thursday, but if you miss those, you can catch it On Demand/digital this Friday. (I also have a really enjoyable interview with Julien Temple over at Below the Line that you should check out.)

A.J. and Jenny Tesler’s doc MAGNOLIA’S HOPE follows four years in the life of their young daughter Magnolia (aka Maggie), who has Rett Syndrome. Maggie’s filmmaking parents talk about noticing her strange behavior and finding out that she had a genetic disorder that makes it harder for children to retain what they’ve learned in terms of movement but also might led to far worse disorders. It makes it almost impossible for her to communicate with her parents, which makes it heartbreaking but also quite inspirational that the parents would allow us into their very own difficult journey to try to get their daughter to use and develop all of the skills she learns by making her practice them every single day. The movie will be available to watch for the month of December on the streaming platform Show and Tell, but it’s such a personal movie and another one where I think it will be hard for many to watch without getting a little teary but more out of joy than sadness.

Also out this week is David Osit’s MAYOR (Film Movement), which follows Musa Hadid, the Christian mayor of Ramallah during his second term of office and determined to make his city a beautiful and dignified place to lived despite being surrounded on all sides by soldiers and Israeli settlements. It will open today at the Film Forum’s Virtual Cinema in New York after winning the Grand Jury Prize at the 2020 Full Frame Documentary Film Festival.

What there’s more? How about Braden R. Duemmler’s WHAT LIES BELOW (Vertical Entertainment), a thriller starring Ema Hovarth from Quibi’s Don’t Look Deeper as Liberty (aka Libby), a teen girl returning from camp only to learn her mother (Mena Suvari) has a hot younger boyfriend named John (Trey Tucker), who Libby soon begins to question whether he’s human. What could possibly go wrong?

I knew I was in trouble when Suvari is picking her daughter up from archeology camp (that’s a thing?) and I misheard her asking her daughter “Any nice digs?” (think about it), especially since Suvari is playing a stereotypically over-sexed cougar, something that becomes far more obvious once we meet her boyfriend that she’s been sexing up at her lake house. There’s certainly a danger of What Lies Below turning into a prequel to a Pornhub video, but thankfully, Duemmler gets away from the inappropriate sexuality inherent in John’s presence and into the weird behavior that gets Libby suspicious.

Sure, maybe calling the movie “My Stepfather is an Alien” would have been more apropos, and there’s elements of the movie that reminded me of the Tom Hanks’ movie The ‘burbs, and not in a good way. Even so, Hovarth, who really looks like Suvari’s daughter, does a fine job holding this together and keeping you invested in how things might pan out, as things get weirder and weirder and the movie eventually transforms itself into a halfway decent and creepy “body horror” flick.

Weird but well-done, What Lies Below is not even close to the worst thriller I’ve seen this year. That might seem like damning praise, but it’s the best I can do for this one.

Debuting on Shudder this Thursday is Justin G. Dyck’s ANYTHING FOR JACKSON (Shudder), a “reverse exorcism” movie in which a seemingly kindly couple, played by Sheila McCarthy and Julian Richings, kidnap a pregnant woman (Konstantina Mantelos) in hopes of getting the spirit of their grandson Jackson, who died in a car crash, and put him into her baby… with the help of demons. What could possibly go wrong? (If you hadn’t guessed, this is the theme of this week’s Weekend Warrior.)

I’ve been thoroughly impressed with the horror delivered by streamer Shudder this year, and Anything for Jackson is no exception. In fact, going over Dyck’s filmography, it’s kind of surprising how decent a horror filmmaker he is, because most of his other movies seem like Hallmark-style Christmas movies? Crazy. There are aspects of Anything for Jackson, written by Keith Cooper, who wrote some of those holiday movies for Dyck. I honestly can imagine the two of them making this movie just to be able to do something different, so they come into the horror realm with tons of fim making experience and easily transition into horror.

At the heart of this movie are McCarthy, Richings and Mantelos, who are all fine actors who do a great job selling the horrors but do just as well during the quieter dramatic moments. Not that there are that many of them, as Dyck/Cooper throw so many absolutely horrific moments at the viewer so that diehard horror fans will not be disappointed. Things shift into another gear when Josh Cruddas joins in as a Satanic cult leader they bring in to help them when they realize they’re out of their league. The results are something akin to Insidiousin terms of the types of demons and ghosts thrown at the viewer.

At times, Anything for Jackson was a little hard to follow, maybe due to its non-linear storytelling, but at least it has a substantial amount of decent replay value, since the demons and kills are so gloriously gory.

Eric Schultz’s dark and trippy sci-fi thriller MINOR PREMISE (Utopia) stars Sathya Sridharan as neuroscientist Ethan, who gets caught up in his own risky experiment involving memory loss when he becomes trapped in his home with his ex-girlfriend Allie (Paton Ashbrook), and he doesn’t remember how they both got there.

For his directorial debut, Schultz has taken the cerebral indie sci-fi film route that we’ve seen in other filmmaking debuts like Shane Carruth’s Primer, Darren Aronofsky’s Pi or Richard Kelly’s Donnie Darko, and if you’re a fan of those movies, you’ll already know if this would be for you or not. This is also the kind of movie that really requires the closest attention and fullest focus, which is not something I’m great at right now. Because of that, I don’t have a ton to say about a film that does a good job pulling the viewer in with its intriguing premise.

Schultz is a pretty decent filmmaker and discovering Sridharan, who has done a lot of single-episode TV appearances but nothing major, is quite a coup since this is quite a solid showcase for the young actor. I wasn’t as crazy about Ashbrook, which makes it for a rather uneven two-hander.

Minor Premise is just fine, and I think some people will definitely like it more than I did. I definitely will have to watch it again when I’m not so distracted by ALL THOSE OTHER MOVIES ABOVE THAT I JUST FUCKING REVIEWED!

It will be in theaters, in virtual cinema, and digital/On Demand this Friday, so check it out for yourself.

And finally…

Director Dennis Dugan of Big Daddy and Happy Gilmore directs LOVE, WEDDINGS AND OTHER DISASTERS (Saban Films), a “Love American Style” rom-com anthology with a cast that includes Maggie Grace, Jeremy Irons, Diane Keaton and more. Grace plays Jessie, a fairly inexperienced wedding plan hired to orchestrate the high-profile wedding of Boston mayoral candidate (Dennis Staroselsky), and then… oh, you know what? I’ll leave the rest of the description to the review portion of our review.

We meet Grace’s character as she and her soon-to-be-ex boyfriend are skydiving, which goes horribly wrong as they end up fighting all the way down and crashing through an outdoor wedding, caught on a viral video that gets her dubbed the “Wedding Thrasher.” Imagine what a PR disaster that would be for mayoral candidate Rob Barton to have her planning his wedding, but Jessie quickly bonds with his fiancé Liz (Caroline Portu) and begins preparations. Meanwhile, Barton’s problematic brother Jimmy (Andy Goldenberg) has gone on a game show called “Crash Couples” (that’s hosted by no less than Dugan himself) and he allows himself to be chained to a Russian “lawyer” named Svetlana (Melinda Hill) who is actually a stripper. They’re willing to stick it out since the winner gets a million dollars.

Surely, that’s more than enough stories, right? Nope. Turns out that Jessie’s main competition to plan the wedding is a legendary caterer named Lawrence Phillips (Irons) who is set-up on a blind date with Diane Keaton, who is blind. Oy vey. Also, there’s Andrew Bachelor as Captain Ritchie, who gives humorous sightseeing tours of Boston via the Charles River in an odd land/water vehicle, but one day, he encounters a young woman with a glass slipper tattoo, and he becomes quite smitten. We’ll get back to him. Maybe. In fact, Duggan spends so much time setting up different stories and relationships without much connection that you wonder whether he can tie things up in the oh-so-predictable way these things normally go.

Although the movie starts out fine, and it’s actually not a bad role for Grace, as soon as Duggan introduces the game show, then we learn that Svetlana (real name Olga) is a tripper connected to the mob and they get involved, things just start going downhill very fast. Also, the idea that Keaton -- who I haven’t seen in a good movie in almost two decades -- would not think twice about playing a klutzy blind person. As soon as she shows up and immediately knocks over one of Phillips’ signature champagne glass fountains, I knew we were in for a very long haul. I didn’t even mention the other storyline involving a musician named Mack (Diego Boneta) whose band Jessie is trying to get to play the wedding – one of the multiple meet-cutes in the movie -- although Mack is squabbling with his bandmate Lenny (Jesse McCartney) who has a new Asian girlfriend who is intruding in their friendship. (I’m sure the fact her name is “Yoni” is meant as as Yoko Ono reference.)

Then on top of that, Dugan steals the gimmick from There’s Something About Mary, by constantly cutting back to Elle King and Keaton Simmons as they’re playing folksy songs in the park. Okay, the fact that Dugan wrote many of those pretty decent songs they perform is pretty impressive.

But the movie is very predictable, especially how it all comes together for the finale, which obviously has to take place at the wedding to which everything has been building up to.

Otherwise, Dugan’s film is maybe 20% an okay movie but the other 80%? Yeesh!! It’s about as romantic as a date with the Marquis de Sade, and it somehow manages to be an equal opportunity offender... in terms of offending blind people, Asians, Jews, Arabs, gay people and even strippers and Russian mafia. It took Dugan 14 years to get this passion project made, and it’s pretty obvious why.

As usual, there were a couple movies I didn’t have time to watch, but not quite as many as the ones I did make time to watch:

King of Knives (Gravitas Ventures) End of Sentence (Gravitas Venture) Billie (Greenwich) Godmothered (Disney+) Wander (Saban Films) Music Got Me Here (First Run Features) Stand! (Fathom Events, Imagination Worldwide) HAM: A Musical Memoir (Global Digital Releasing) In the Mood for Love (4k Restoration)

By the way, if you read this week’s column and have bothered to read this far down, feel free to drop me some thoughts at Edward dot Douglas at Gmail dot Com or drop me a note or tweet on Twitter. I love hearing from readers … honest!

#TheWeekendWarrior #Movies #Reviews #ImYourWoman #Mank #Nomadland #CrockOfGold #TheProm #BlackBear #Luxor #AnotherRound #HalfBrothers #AllMyLife

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captainhotch · 5 years

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Masterlist

Stranger Things

Steve Harrington:

Providing Protection - Dustin enlists his new found friend, Steve Harrington, to protect his older sister. It doesn’t go exactly how Dustin planned. Fluff.

Lowest of Lows - The death of the reader’s cat doesn’t hit her until it hits her. Steve Harrington being the sweetheart that he is. Fluff & slight angst.

Teenage Love Affair | Part Two - Based on the Alicia Keys song, “Teenage Love Affair.” Fluff.

Like the World is Ending - Steve Harrington is an unavoidable and ridiculously attractive nuisance. Fluff.

What Happens at the Arcade - Steve Harrington takes advantage of giving Dustin a ride when he realizes that the arcade girl is his crush. Fluff.

Call Out My Name - Based on ‘Call Out My Name’ by The Weeknd. Angst.

End of the Road - The conversation with Steve had been along time coming. Angst.

It’s Disgusting - You, Steve, and Robin spend your summer together. Fluff.

Excuses, Excuses - COMING SOON. Fluff & Angst.

Pure Gold - COMING SOON. ANGST.

What the Heart Wants - COMING SOON. Fluff.

Robin:

Flirting by Proxy - COMING SOON. Fluff.

Billy Hargrove:

Into You - COMING SOON. Fluff.

Criminal Minds

Aaron Hotchner:

Undercover - Hotch and the reader go undercover to catch an unsub. Some weird, unexpected feelings surface and neither of them known how to deal with it. Fluff. Requested.

Day One of 12 Days of Christmas - Jack meets Hotch’s girlfriend-- officially. Fluff.

Derek Morgan:

Scare Them Away - The reader struggles with sleeping due to the job and Derek helps to ease her. Fluff. Requested.

Turtleneck - Derek leaves a mark on his girlfriend’s neck and she enlists Emily’s help-- even though none of the team know about their relationship. Fluff.

Causing Confusion - Derek thinks something is going on between the reader and Spencer-- boy is he wrong. Fluff & Angst.

Close Call - The reader has a brush with death and Derek can’t help but to reminise. Fluff & Angst.

Spencer Reid:

Day Six of my 12 Days of Christmas - Derek’s girlfriend introduces Spencer to her best friend, they hit it off. Fluff.

Marvel

Steve Rogers:

Day Three of 12 Days of Christmas - Steve decorates his shared space with his girlfriend. Fluff.

Happy Father’s Day - Your teasing Steve gets to the team and boy do they have a field day with it. Fluff.

Won’t Let you Down - Steve gives the reader a gift they’ll always remember. Kinda Fluff, mostly Angst.

Sam Wilson:

Day Two of 12 Days of Christmas - Sam annoys the living hell out of his girlfriend for two hours straight. Fluff.

Hope and all its Friends - Just as you were beginning to accept the fact that you’d never see your boyfriend again, there’s hope. Fluff & Angst.

Wanda Maximoff:

Cat and Mouse - Wanda and the reader have been playing games with each other for as long as anyone can remember. The reader is tired of it. Angst.

Natasha Romanoff:

The Look - prompt: stop looking at me like that, i can’t think when you give me that look. Fluff.

Goodbye to Family - The Reader says goodbye to Natasha. ANGST.

Thor Odinson:

Puppy Love - Reader and Thor have been running circles around each other for the longest; sometimes all it takes is a slight push from the right person. Fluff.

Tony Stark:

Have a Heart - Reader says goodbye to Tony. ANGST ANGST ANGST.

Peter Parker:

Weight of the World - COMING SOON. ANGST

Riverdale

Cheryl Blossom:

Best Interest - Cheryl takes a special liking towards the reader, and pretty much everyone but the reader has noticed. Specifically because Cheryl shows her humility. Fluff & slight angst.

What a Lucky Girl - Reader is super supportive (and impressed) with Cheryl’s performance with the Pussycats. Fluff.

Glad You’re Mine - Reader is mad at Cheryl after a fight, but of course she can’t resist the girl’s persuasive ways. Slight angst but mostly fluff.

Honey - Based on the song ‘Honey’ by Kehlani. Fluff.

Betty Cooper:

100 Reasons - Reader is suspicious of Cheryl’s new found “friendship” with Betty & lets the girl know. Fluff.

Good Taste - Veronica takes in interest in the reader so Betty has to let her know that she’s taken. Fluff.

Veronica Lodge:

Good Times - Reader finally meets the infamous Veronica Lodge during her shift at Pop’s V takes a liking to her to say the very least. Fluff.

Archie Andrews:

Costume Party - Reader finally convinces Cheryl to put her super creepy mansion to good use and throw a Halloween party. Fluff.

Jughead Jones:

Misread Signs - Reader confides in Archie about her feelings, or lack-there-of for Jughead. Fluff.

Seeking Comfort - Reader has some pretty awful cramps and seeks comfort in Jughead. Fluff.

Other

Jake Peralta: Not Even Thanksgiving - The reader is an avid Christmas fan and decides to decorate her desk –mind you it’s not even Thanksgiving. Jake i surprised by how she goes out of her way to make him feel special. Fluff.

Conner Rhodes: Day Five of 12 Days of Christmas - You’re emotionally constipated but Conner manages to work around it. Fluff.

#masterlist #stranger things #brooklyn 99 #marvel #riverdale #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #stranger things imagine #marvel imagine #brooklyn 99 imagine #riverdale imagine

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strange-n-unbluusual · 4 years

Text

Pink! Ch. 4: The Late Date

*Beetlejuice/Original Female Character. Adult situations. 18+ only.*

Summary: After six breather years away, Beetlejuice returns to find the house on the hill overrun by coeds. Lydia allows him to stay, but has rules. Things get more interesting when Beck, one of the housemates, reveals she can see him. Following a sordid affair, Beetlejuice finds himself lingering around Beck more and more. But will her affection last? And why does it seem to bother Lydia so much?

Chapter 1: The Setup

Chapter 2: The Buzzkill Date

Chapter 3: The Ex Lover

This one is a doozy! 18+ only!!

DMs are always open for thoughts, feedback and suggestions. Ty. On AO3 as CopperContessa_13

They weren’t kidding around when they named the place Winter River.

By late November, it was uncommon for the town to go more than a day without being graced by at least another inch of snow. Constantly clearing her car was annoying, but Beck enjoyed the white stuff otherwise.

She smiled when she saw a bright light peeking through her curtains one morning. When she opened her curtains, she saw the sun was reflecting off a fresh layer of snow that had fallen during the night. About six inches lay untouched on the roof outside her window, the rays making it shine like glitter. Some fluffy flakes still floated lazily down from the sky.

Just beyond the roof, she could see the people moving around in the town. The snow there wasn’t quite as untouched as her immediate view, but the scene was still so picturesque.

The plow trucks had already come, easily moving the puffy snow off the roadway. Most driveways were cleared, too, but tire tracks tattled on who’d woken up too late to shovel before work. Focusing on one street in particular, she noticed a man started to clear his neighbor’s driveway after finishing his own.

Children, no doubt on break from school, were already preparing barricades for snowball fights and running down the streets with sleds in hand. During Winter River's first snow this year, Beck asked Lydia if any kids ever came to sled at the house’s hill. Lydia said she’d let them if they tried, but that they hardly got visitors these days.

Something about a bad experience with a Girl Scout and a census taker? Whatever.

Inspired by the scene, Beck dragged her art desk in front of the window. Warmness tickled her feet as she walked past an air vent. Settling in her chair, she turned to a fresh page in her sketchbook and grabbed a piece of charcoal.

It had taken a couple of days for tensions to ease, but they did. Beck and Lydia maintained their distance, but it was more out of respect than compulsion. Lydia had noticeably stayed over at her girlfriend’s house more since the big fight. When Mariah was over, though, they were considerate and quiet. That didn’t go unnoticed by Beck who, consequently, decided it was in poor taste to pointedly use Lydia’s towels to clean up after she and Beetlejuice finished screwing around.

Having the house to herself really did help Beck cleanse any petty energy that remained in her brain. Nice mornings like this, especially, made her worries feel small.

Being alone on Thanksgiving break wasn’t sad or stressful for her. With school in Connecticut and home in New Mexico, she realized early on that a trip home for such a short break just wasn’t worth it. Plus, it wasn’t like she felt alone.

Her parents kept tabs on her through text messages. She had lengthy streaks with both of her sisters on Snapchat. The ghosts were still around, too. Adam and Barbara, whose presence around the place was a bit more common now, would sometimes make idle conversation. And, of course, there was also Beetlejuice who was… a lot.

As if his snarky observations weren’t grating enough when she pretended to not hear them…

Beck didn’t know someone could be so endearing and insufferable at the same time. She’d learned to finish her work at the campus library because, geezus, Beetlejuice was an unstoppable force at home. It didn’t matter if it was noon or midnight, he was always at the door when she got home. She always found the act endearing until he opened his mouth. From the moment she came in through the door, he'd follow her around like a very talkative shadow. Beetlejuice had a surprising amount to say about his day, considering he never left the house.

Books she read, movies she watched, websites she browsed. You name it. Beetlejuice had a very staunch opinion on all of it. Don't even get him started on what he thought of her housemates. Kendra will never be “punk,” Ash’s poetry is shit, Cici’s weird nipples make her boobs look like googly eyes and Lillian is a shallow bitch. Beck had heard it all.

He never had anything bad to say about Lydia, of course.

After his conscious stream of thought ruined the emotional climax of a series she’d been binging, Beck decided she’d had enough. She was about to tell him off when a thought finally occurred to her: he only talks so much because it's been so long since he’s been heard.

It was a cathartic moment.

It was also cathartic when she learned he got really quiet after blowing a load or two.

They had yet to bang outright. He told her that they couldn't. Something about Netherworld bureaucracy barring him from having sex with a mortal without being summoned. Wary of unleashing a demon for the sake of a 30 second bone sesh (give or take, she imagined), Beck decided she was fine with just hand and tongue stuff.

Speaking of bedroom calisthenics, it was weird he wasn’t curled up next to her that morning.

Beck looked up from her drawing pad to glimpse at the town again, but was distracted by something new on the roof.

She adjusted her posture just enough to make out the beady eyes of a snowman sitting outside her window. The snow used to make it was dirty looking, brown and grey. Its eyes and mouth were made up of tiny pebbles. A black and white striped scarf hung loosely from its neck. A gust of wind blew the knit fabric against the (several?) flimsy twigs being used for arms.

“Hey, sugar tits! Coffee’s on!” Beetlejuice announced while kicking the door to her room open.

Beck flinched, causing the charcoal she was holding to make a thick line on the paper. She frowned at the mistake, but decided not to make a big deal out of it. She could probably pass it off as a tree branch or something. Oh well.

Turning to face him, she was relieved to see him holding two mugs. Caffeine was just what she needed.

“You don’t have anything to do with that cute snowman on the roof, do you, Lawrence?” she asked while grabbing a cup.

“Cute? He’s not cute,” Beetlejuice scoffed. “Look at him peeping into your room! That dirty pervert.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve let that slide.”

He grinned and pulled her to his side with his free arm. She tried her best to ignore the gesture, opting to clutch her hot mug with both hands instead of embracing him back. Messing around was one thing, but she still wasn’t sure what to do when he made affectionate little gestures like these.

Still, there were worse ways to start a morning.

Beck took a sip of the coffee. Her face twisted into disgust.

“Something wrong, babes?”

“W-what did you use to make this?”

“Dirt and water,” He said taking a gulp of the stuff. “Why do you think the snowman is so dirty? I spent the morning digging through the garden to make this.”

Trying to contain her repulsion, Beck calmly walked over to her dresser and set the mug down.

“What? Is this not how you’re supposed to do it?” he asked. “Lydia said it was made with plants.”

“Yeah! A coffee plant. Which is definitely not topsoil.”

“Well I got it from the garden, didn’t I?!”

Beck took a deep breath.

“You are… something,” she said.

“I don’t get your deal. It tastes the same to me,” he shrugged.

“Stop drinking that!”

Beetlejuice stared her down as he chugged the rest. He patted his tummy and made a satisfied “ah” noise. Beck rolled her eyes but cracked a smile.

Jokes on him, she thought. She wouldn’t touch him again until he used some mouthwash.

You can’t have a weak stomach when you’re with someone like him, Beck had learned. If it wasn’t clear from the moss on his face and the dust that wafted off of him when he moved, they guy had an affinity for filth. What was more frustrating than the dirty clothes and greasy hair, though, was that she knew he could do something about it with a wave of his hand. Fucker didn’t even need to shower! He just liked being that way!

Beck liked her men dirty, though.

“I was just trying to do something nice for you,” he grumbled.

“Hon, I know, but it’s gross” Beck laughed.

She slightly regretted using the pet name when she saw him visibly perk up at its use.

“Let me get changed and I’ll make a real breakfast,” she quickly added.

“Are you gonna make pancakes?!” he gasped, lighting up further.

“If you want, I guess.”

“Fuck yeah!”

⁂

Later in the day, they’d decided to turn on a movie. One of Beetlejuice’s favorites— The Exorcist. He was so enamored with the screen he didn’t even see her slip away. He was re-alerted of her presence at the sound of heels clicking on the kitchen’s wood floor. He whipped his head around, desperate to get a view of her from the living room.

Beck was wearing tall brown boots and very tight jeans. The straps of a lacey bralette peeked out tastefully from under a knit sweater. A bit of jewelry and makeup accentuated her features. Her hair fell in big, loose waves just above her shoulders. Her coat and purse were held under one arm.

Beetlejuice wolf whistled, grabbing her attention.

“You look like a million bucks, Beck!” Beetlejuice said, walking over and slapping her ass.

“Thanks,” she said awkwardly. “I actually wanted to wear this cute bandeau and jacket I picked up the other day, but I’ll save that for when it gets warmer. Hoes don’t get cold, but they do get pneumonia.”

“Why are you worried about getting sick? I thought you were staying in today.”

“No. I actually need to head out soon.”

“Why? Grocery store closing?”

“No, Lawrence,” Beck giggled. “I’m going to the pub downtown. This guy from my sculpting class struck up a conversation with me about craft beer. Apparently he knows the woman who owns the place. We’re gonna try some of their new pours together.”

Beetlejuice was quiet for a moment before he finally responded with a breathy laugh.

“If I didn’t know you any better, Bexley, I’d say it sounds like you’re going on a date.”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Yeah I am. My first since Lydia.”

“Well, you can’t go then!” he snapped.

She looked up at him in surprise.

“And why the fuck not?” Beck spat back.

“Because you and I are already together.”

Oh boy.

Beck’s mouth gaped open for a second, not exactly sure what to say.

“No, we’re not,” she said firmly. “I’m sorry I never laid it out, but what we have is strictly casual.”

“It’s not casual, babes,” he insisted.

Beetlejuice’s words were calm, but she didn’t miss the bits of red that were starting to fleck his green hair.

“We can talk about this later,” Beck said dismissively. “I need to go.”

Beetlejuice pinned her against the wall, holding her firmly in place by clutching her forearms above her head. Her shoes felt like they were glued to the ground— likely his powers holding her. She struggled against him, but quickly realized it was useless.

“Are you going to hurt me?”

“No, baby, never,” Beetlejuice cooed into her ear. “I’m just going to prove a point.”

“What point?”

“That your fucking little breather flings can’t hold a candle to how good I make you feel.”

Beck didn’t get a chance to respond before he hoisted her from the wall and laid her on the nearby countertop. He quickly undid her jeans but looked at her for approval before pulling them down. She hesitated for a moment before shrugging.

“Prove your point, big shot. Make it fast.”

Beck knew she was being greedy and inconsiderate for pulling a stunt like this so close to her date, but she couldn't help herself. She'd become addicted to his constant attention.

She tensed at the coldness of his tongue, but it quickly warmed inside her. It always did. One of Beetlejuice’s hands grasped her thigh while the thumb of the other worked her clit. Her hips spasmed at infrequent intervals at the pleasureful sensation.

She loved the way his tongue pulsed inside her at a steady rhythm. At first she was turned off by how inhuman in looked— wormlike and darker than a human one. The way it could stretch and move her, though, was incomparable to anything else she'd experienced. He was already driving her wild, his movements simple but skilled.

He wasn’t allowed to know that, of course.

Beetlejuice looked up at Beck. She was supported on her elbows, giving her enough height to look back down at him blankly. He knew she was trying her best to be unenthused, but her act wasn’t convincing. Aside from her electrified hips, he could read the lust in her eyes and hear the lilt of an occasional whine leave her mouth.

Not good enough.

Craving a more intense reaction, he slid out to tease her ass for a second. When she opened her mouth to gasp, he quickly rammed the tongue back into its familiar sheath. Beck’s hips bucked into his mouth and she let out long, pleasurable cry.

Beetlejuice smirked, raising an eyebrow at her from his spot below.

“Don’t get cocky,” she groaned.

Repositioning, he placed a hand on either of her thighs and spread her legs further apart. He took a second to appreciate how beautiful and vulnerable she was in this position before diving in headfirst again. She panted, weaving a needy hand in his hair. She'd move him gently, desperate to chase her orgasm with his help. She loved it when he maneuvered so that his appendage could both rub her little pleasure button and fill her insides.

She closed her eyes, imagining it was his cock filling her instead.

After manipulating her with his mouth for a while, Beetlejuice withdrew. Beck, who’d mostly shucked off her pants by that point, wrapped a desperate leg around the back of his head. She tried to push him back into place.

“I’m so fucking close,” she pleaded, “Please don’t stop.”

Everything in him wanted to oblige her.

Beetlejuice was obsessed. He craved to feel her fall apart in his hands. After so many rendezvous like this, it started to felt like his purpose in unlife was to worship her body. It felt like sin to not to give in to her wants.

But he had a point to make…

Beetlejuice kissed her left thigh, the wetness from around his mouth transfering partially onto her with it.

“You can cum when you tell me that no breather will ever satisfy you again.”

“That no wha-? Oh!”

She threw her head back and arched towards him as he slowly slid a thick finger in. The speed was disappointing and teasingly slow. Sitting upright now, Beck tried to stimulate herself further but was unable. Her hips felt like they were being held in place, making it impossible to ramp up the speed by rocking back and forth. Her hands, similarly, felt stuck to the counter. It kept her from playing with her clit.

Beck tried to contain her frustration but failed miserably. Finger still moving painstakingly slow, Beetlejuice watched her thin veneer of calm fall apart. A deep, grounding sigh from her lips slowly became a vexed protest. He laughed openly at her struggle and pressed his forehead against hers. The proximity gave them both a rush.

“Say ‘you’ve spoiled my body too much’ and maybe I’ll let you cum,” he said.

“I’ve had better!” Beck spat back.

He bit her neck in response. Pleased at the scream he elicited from her, he kissed the mark it made.

“Don’t do that! I don’t want Nathan to see it.”

"Fuck Nathan!"

Beetlejuice was about to bite harder when he got distracted by a buzzing noise. They both got quiet. Looking around, he realized it was coming from her jacket on the floor. It, along with her purse, were knocked out of her hands when he pushed her against the wall.

She grumbled when his hand and face left her body. Beetlejuice leaned down and fished the buzzing thing— her cellphone— out of her jacket. He looked at the glowing screen, an evil grin spreading on his face when he saw who was calling her.

“Pick it up. Now,” he demanded as he tossed it to her.

He dismissed the restraint from one of her hands, allowing her to catch. She swallowed nervously before answering.

“H-hi Nathan."

Beetlejuice resumed his position on her neck and teased her entrance with his fingers. As he placed his other hand on the small of her back, Beck realized with horror what he was about to do.

She bit her lip to suppress a moan as two of his thick fingers slammed into her repeatedly. It made her crazy, feeling the hilt of his hand ram against her pelvis. Beck tried to close her thighs to buffer the movement, but his powers still kept her position locked. He nibbled and sucked her neck, careful not to bite too hard this time. She liked it when he paid attention to the spot on her collar bone, too, he'd learned.

Her body trembled at the sensations. A tremor was in her voice, too.

“I’m not standing you up, I promise,” she laughed nervously into the phone. “I, uh, I’m stuck at my house. My car won’t start. Sometimes that happens when it gets too cold.”

Beck let out a yelp as Beetlejuice put a third digit into her.

“No! I’m fine. My back just hurts from hunching over my desk all day. W-what was that? Oh! Uh, yeah that’d be awesome. You're the best. I’ll see you in five.”

She hung up the phone, immediately tossing it aside in order to manipulate her clit. Beetlejuice laughed against her skin.

“Not so cool now are you, Bexley.”

“Shut up and finger fuck me like you mean it.”

That was all the prodding he needed.

Her sweater bunched up as the hand on her back clenched into a fist. Beetlejuice started kissing her on the mouth. Beck kissed back, fiery need consuming them both. When he untethered her other hand, he was surprised to feel her tugging his pants down. He moaned into her mouth at the way she stroked him.

Beck's concentration on him wavered. She broke their kiss and stopped manipulating his cock, too focused on getting herself off before she had to leave.

A long and drawn out scream soon crescendoed from Beck’s mouth. It was so unabashed it almost made Beetlejuice blush. He loved it when she didn't care who heard her cumming. I made him feel powerful. The Maitlands were probably somewhere out of sight and clutching their pearls over it. He certainly didn't give a fuck, though.

“Oh, fuck, baby. That’s right. Ride it out,” he whispered.

Combined with the feeling of her hand on his cock, the sensation of her body clenching around his fingers was almost too much. Beetlejuice was close to climax, too.

Regaining control of herself, Beck's hand started working him again. Beetlejuice grunted and came all over the base of the countertop.

They just stared at each other after coming down from their respective highs. The silence spoke volumes.

In a moment of tenderness, Beetlejuice tried to kiss Beck, but she turned her head.

Wordlessly, she readjusted her clothing. He watched bemused as she maneuvered her hair to fall over the purple and red mark he’d left on her skin. Hearing a car horn honk outside, she picked up her things and headed for the door.

Beck dared to glance back at him one last time.

Beetlejuice smirked back, mouthing the word “spoiled."

She slammed the door behind her.

⁂

The date was a bust. Nathan didn’t even go in for a kiss when he dropped her off.

It's not like she had anyone else to blame but herself, though.

Beck was distant the whole time, her mind more interested in replaying what had just happened rather than listen to her date talk. When she did pay Nathan mind, it wasn't for long. She was self-conscious about hiding the hickey on her neck. She was too distracted to give meaningful answers to the questions he asked. She was too overwhelmed with the worry that he could smell Beetlejuice on her. It wasn't long before he gave up on coaxing conversation out of her.

“Whelp. See you in class Tuesday,” he sighed when he dropped her off.

"Thank you. I'm sorry," was all she could manage to say back.

She really did feel sorry. She really did like him.

Beck was surprised that Beetlejuice wasn’t waiting for her in the foyer. She thought for sure he would been itching to gloat about how he was right. About how that dumb breather didn’t have a chance with her and all that.

He wasn’t waiting in her room when she got up there, either.

This was so unlike him, Beck thought. Where the hell could he be?

The ceiling above her room creaked.

“That bastard,” she muttered.

The message was clear: not only did he demand that she grovel, he demanded she actually go up to the attic to do it.

Resolved that she wouldn’t play his game, Beck started to get ready for bed and kicked off her shoes. Tossing her keys onto her dresser, she noticed the coffee cup that had been left there earlier. The art desk was still by the window, too, along with the drawing she’d been working on.

Picking up the sketch pad, she noticed the thick black line from before was gone. The picture, otherwise, was the same aside from the addition of two crudely drawn figures. A man and a woman peered out at the rest of the town from a window in the top part in one of the houses. The detail was hard to make out, but she could tell they were holding teeny tiny coffee cups.

Beck smiled despite herself.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice fandom #drama #writing #fluff #original female character #adult language #beetlejuice nsft #nsft

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yikesola · 4 years

Text

Hospital Update—

howdy! did i emo post about feeling sick and going home from work and then didn’t post for a few days except to complain and say “i’m okay! i’m in hospital but i’m okay” 😦

oops, i guess i did

so if i worried you with that i’m truly sorry, and i want to emphasize the i’m okay bits of this story and the fact that i am still definitely okay but still definitely shook up and exhausted and processing that this week even really happened. so i’m gonna try to go over what went down and y’all aren’t allowed to make fun of me if it’s not as funny as my usual writing, deal? deal!🥰 i just have had a verrry shitty time with the fact that so much that happened is a blur and i kinda depend a lot on my interpretation of events, and i want to write it down so i have some kind of record before i lose even more details— and that can mean that while writing this out it’s gonna actually be a litttle tmi, and more medical mumbo jumbo than you care about, but hey what level of social media isn’t dripping in performativity? what else am i gonna do, besides type this out? watch more family feud? wait for my next potassium horsepill?

so i legit just thought i had a flu last week, thought i’d need to just sleep off the nausea and fever and body aches and tummy troubles, have some soup, have some sprite and gatorade, have some saltines, have some tylenol. i had been complaining for a few days about not feeling well and thought that’d be the worst of it as i never really get sick and when i do i never do much about it other than being a pioneer woman and suffering through it. and this post would be soooooo boring if that were the case— don’t worry, it was not the flu.

so something cracked in my blood after i went to sleep to try to feel better, and my body did that autoimmune thing that bodies do where it said “hey..... something’s trying to kill us. what if we died first?? that’ll show em!” and my blood platelets started eating themselves. not ,, good.....

meanwhile it was the next morning and i was supposed to get ready for work but i still felt like shit (because my body was torpedoing itself) so my dear memere coming to check up on me saw me wild and vomit-strewen, except i wasn’t actually wild at all i was just shutting down blood-utilizing organ by one and imagining that i was this wild Romantic mrs rochester in my burning nightgown while my aunt and memere quibbled over whether they could get me into the car to try urgent care. in my haze i heard that and my dumb ass was like “is it that necessary??” and luckily my dumb mouth wasn’t functioning at the time bc she didn’t say nothing and instead my relatives called an ambulance. our little mountain town has its own hospital, that’s a nice part of the story! it’s a nice little hospital!

the paramedic was lovely and tried to get me sweatpants because it’s november. i didn’t listen to her because my fever was insane and i was more concerned with making sure my cats weren’t in the way of the gurney 🤪#yikesolabranding

i had the same paramedic in the ambulance with me when they sent me to the hospital in the big city and i spent the whole 90 minute drive talking about how much i love those fucking cats

that’s beside the point, but i want to be clear about who i am at my core apparently, always talking about the gals 😻

so i get to the hospital and this is the first black out. i guess technically second because of when it all started, but let’s pick up with me waking up in the hospital. i have nine plasma. i have a fever of 105. i’m being given a blood transfusion, thanks high schoolers who wanted to get out of running the mile in PE that day!

they throw their dartboard tests and decide i have TTP—

basically, they just need to trick my blood into calling off the attack. how are they gonna do that? they’re gonna confuse the blood, overwhelm it, overcrowd it. they’re gonna get me to the fancy city hospital and treat my veins like frosting piping bags.

it’s snowing— no helicopter for me. i have a catheter at this point btw, and this is one of the parts that i know is tmi but ....... ladies and friends, y’all ever had a catheter?? 😩🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪 i’m dying and legit think i’d rather piss myself to death, it hurts that bad. we take an ambulance down to the valley, i complain enough about the catheter that they finally take it out for which i apologize incessantly (something that’s probably more annoying than the original complaining but i could die in my own piss comfortable and happy so whatever let’s not worry about it.) i pass out again.

i wake up in ICU. i’m assured i am neither pregnant nor have AIDS. good news✌️ especially considering some family history i won’t dive into here. they’re saying the catheter word again and that scares me bc ow, but don’t worry! this one is going in my neck :) it’s how we’re gonna save my life—

we pump thirteen (13) bags of plasma into my neck via dialysis. it works so well they decide they’re gonna do it for a week! i am weeping through the entire 90 minute procedure btw, and apologizing for it. i’m a Fun Patient!

i pass out again.

i wake up to another assurance that i am still unpregnant and don’t have AIDS. hmmm glad those ones stick!

my aunt is begging me to rub my two brain cells together so i can unlock my phone. i do, which is interesting considering when asked the year i repeatedly answer 1992 and 1994. but my 4digit phone passcode? try and wipe that from me, bitch ass stroke

my aunt calls my dad. he is less of a jerk than he could be :) he thinks my uninsured ass should move to the hospital he works at in california. fucking comedian

i text some friends waiting in my hospital bed. it’s a messy text. if you’re a friend who got one of those texts, bless your reading comprehension abilities and please know that my intention was to say something like “i don’t want to worry you, I’ve checked into the hospital but am okay” but it was like in pooh’s grand adventure when pooh bear spilt honey all over christopher robin’s note that literally said “DONT worry about me, i’m NOT going far away” and read it as “worry about me, i’m going far away” and basically i should’ve taken the opportunity to pass out again instead of trying to text lol

i did call one friend instead of text and she was at dinner with her husband, so sent a little “call you back later!” before listening to the voicemail and the poor dear felt very bad for blowing me off, though i promise i did not feel blown off, i shouldn’t have called at dinner time like a damn telemarketer!

so i wake up again and it’s been two days 😞😞 whoopsie! they’ve done more plasma, i’m stable, and my brain is coming back. I’m BORED. i’m trapped in my body and can’t move and in incredible pain! i’m covered in bruises. i’ve vomited on myself. it’s time to pump me with more plasma. while they’re doing the 40min prep work for that, i am drenched in confusion, like that camouflage spell in hp5. i start screaming apologies (even when my brain is broke i can apologize, social feminization is a hell of a drug) to my doctors who ask me who the president is and i become the “don’t make me say it” meme. that made us all feel a little better.

they pump their plasma. my episode passes. i have a violet allergic reaction all over my body. they pump some benadryl. it goes away.

i can eat solid food! by “solid food” i mean strawberry jello. they tell me to order food of more substance. i order a meatloaf, and pass out before it arrives. i feel bad, eat it cold. i have Never had a better meatloaf, although if i’m being perfectly honest she was closer to a salisbury steak. genuilnely, *chefs kiss*

it’s day five, it’s time for me to leave the ICU. this fancy new room has a toilet :) and a shower! i finally get that vomit out of my hair. my aunt brings me my glasses; they’ve been on my bedside table this whole time

day six is a petulant day ..... idk why but my neck catheter was killing worse than usual and the plasma treatments had been slowly getting more bearable but then this day ,, wasn’t. and suddenly this all felt like a lot of hoops to jump through. and i had some “this isn’t fair🥺” moping as though not being dead isn’t wicked cool enough on its own. whatever, i’m feeling a lot better today, and y’all were really nice about my grumbling so thank you for that, without an ouce of facetiousness🥰

day seven, thanksgiving! i’m finally awake early enough for breakfast. i have fruit loops and laugh at mr amazing’s pain. i have hospital turkey for thanksgiving. it’s as bad as hospital turkey has to be, i can’t blame it for that. my memere sends two blank text messages. she’s 84, so i interpret them as “happy turkey day” and “love you”

i have what is supposed to be my last plasma treatment. before they pull my neck catheter out, they decide it willl not be. i’ll have at least one more in the morning. they’re still not comfortable, but i don’t cry through all 90minutes now. only like ,, 70 minutes of it🤙 maybe i’ll break under an hour tomorrow.

that’s all for now— at this time discharge is looking like monday or tuesday. my TTP recovery is likely, just a matter of time. i’m having a really hard time looking at my phone screeen (typing this has taken on and off 4hrs of dizzy and break) but so look forward to getting back into things that make me happy like japhan content and all the fests and kiss prompts i was working on before this. thanks for listening to this poor approximation of what i remember of my hospital experience! ✨✨🥰 sorry idk how to add a damn read more

#me talking #my face

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collateralfiction · 5 years

Text

ODELL SHORT

DREW

“Do we have to go? I rather stay home with you, do a little recap of our day, have you massage my back, I’ll massage yours and do a little Netflix and chill shit at the end,” I could see his reflection from the mirror as he played with his blonde curls, twisting them between his fingers. The curve of his lip indicated a sly smirk and that his mind was in the gutter. I hadn’t seen him in over a week and instead of spending our time together, we’re going to a little get together by a few mutual friends and he hates it. I’ve had to literally force him to get ready and even so, he’s made every attempt to distract me and have me like putty in his hands.

“As tempting as that sounds, I think we should both pass and get some air, see some people. We have more than enough time now that it’s offseason. I get to harass you all the time, rub my feet against your face and take you to Ming’s nail salon so you can hear what the girls say. Trust and believe you’re going to be annoyed with me,” I said as I finished slicking my hair back into the neatest bun imaginable. My hair was naturally coily and thick. Luckily for me, gel was my best friend and actually helped tame down my wild mane. Albeit it might’ve took me thirty minutes to do a simple hairstyle, I was able to do it and that’s all that mattered to me.

“Which could possibly be true but since it is you, I have no problem tolerating it with your fine ass,” Heat immediately rushed to my cheek as I shook my head at his flirtation. If I wasn’t so headstrung he would’ve had his way for sure. “Come on, the later we arrive, the longer we’re going to have to stay,” he whined.

“Boy, these are your friends too, stop being a baby. I’m going to tell Ben you were talking shit about him,” I mumbled, grabbing my Chanel crossbody and slinging it against my shoulder. The mention of Ben himself immediately got his attention as he stood up and grabbed his red Supreme crossbody and tossed it over his body. He never left the house without it. Him and his murse.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he pulled me back by my belt loop, my back slamming into his rock-hard chest. His hands wrapped around my waist as his minty breath tickled the nape of my neck.

“I just might, just to see what you would do,” I teased, turning around while still in his grasp. His lips meshed into mine as his tongue lightly grazed against mine, causing a slight moan to purr from my lips.

“Yeah, we’re leaving early without a doubt,”

“Aye, look what the cat done dragged in! if it isn’t Mr. & Mrs. Beckham, how nice is it for you to grace us peasants with your royal presence. If only I can grow up to be like you two one day,” Ben had opened the door for us and as usual, it wouldn’t make sense if he didn’t have a smart-ass remark to accompany his greeting.

“Your mama definitely dropped you a couple of times,” I laughed. I playfully pulled him into a tight hug, rocking him back and forth. “But it is a-okay because we love you,” I giggled.

“Nah, ya mama might love you but not I,” Odell murmured, stepping inside. Their little brotherly banter was always something to just sit back and admire. It was hard finding genuine people to be around nowadays and for Odell’s sake, I was glad that he could count on Ben without a doubt. Ben immediately turned around and started to come for him in the only way he knew how to show love.

“And fuck you and whoever sold you on that Supreme satchel my nigga,” he said, pushing him forward a little.

“Your mama gave it to me for Christmas,” O remarked.

“You two together are a comedy show. I’m going to go find Kory. Please don’t get into any trouble while I’m away,” They simply threw a cheesy smile over their shoulder and scurried away while my nose followed the sweet-smelling scent that was coming from the kitchen. I’ve missed Sunday dinner for the past month, and I had to make it a mission to come out and surprise my friend. This was a tradition and now that the gang is all back together, it only makes sense to reconnect. “Is that my baby mama?” I squealed.

“Drewski!” Kory spun on the heels of her feet to meet me halfway as we both stopped to compliment each other on what we liked about each other’s outfits. “It takes wild child Odell for you to swing by and finally bring your ass in for some good ole’ southern cooking,” she sassed.

“Now you know I would never miss your cooking. But, it just didn’t feel right without him. You would’ve done the same if Ben wasn’t here so save it. And don’t act like I didn’t see your ass every week,” I reasoned.

“And so what!? I have a reason to be stingy with my friends, especially you,”

“Well I’m here so no more tears. Odell and Ben are probably in the living room cutting each other’s asses per usual. I bought banana pudding and I made a vanilla cake too so unfortunately you have no choice but to love on me,” I laughed, placing the bag on the counter. I quickly went to the sink to wash my hands before carefully putting the dessert inside of the fridge and placing the vanilla cake on top of its cake stand, marveling at how well I put that together in such a short time.

“Wash your hands boys!” By 9PM, the rest of the gang had arrived. Chanel and Sterling, Adrian and Bailey, Karreuche and Vic and the honorary single individuals- Kelsie and Juan. While the fellas sat and talked about the past season, I helped set the table with the girls and placed down the array of different foods. It felt like a taste of thanksgiving or our annual friendsgiving. Of course, we were a group of friends that loved to eat and wouldn’t pass up another opportunity to eat.

“Hold up now, y’all ain’t finna eat without my baby here at the table, slow your roll!” I busted out laughing from the kitchen as I finished drying my hands off. Odell either really missed me or he wasn’t going to let not a soul eat without myself being present.

“I’m coming, just grabbing the pitcher from the fridge,” I yelled, cutting the lights on in the hallway. “Rum punch and heavy on the punch,” I sat the concoction down in the middle of the table, sitting down opposite of Odell at the end of the table.

“Let’s all join hands,” Chanel said. I reached across to hold O and Kory’s hands, bowing my head as Chanel led the prayer. A round of Amen’s permeated the area once done and we all lifted our head with a smile as we each grabbed a dish to take something from. Odell grabbed the pitcher and poured a generous amount in both he and I’s cup before grabbing my plate to pick and plate what he knew I would eat. I sat back and watched, so enthralled by the fact that that’s my man. We’ve been together for about 3 years and if anyone would have told me I would be in a relationship with a world-renowned football player who has blonde tresses and dances about on a field? I would laugh; no matter how corny that sounds. But if you were to tell me I would be with my best friend I would be more open to that idea.

“So what has everyone been up to? Anyone engaged, pregnant, cheating? What’s the deal?’ Kelsie asked.

“Well, I didn’t want to say anything until I reached a certain point, but you guys are family and I would like to announce, me and Sterling are expecting!” Chanel exclaimed, placing sonogram photos on the table.

“Chanel, please do not lie,” I said, standing up to inspect the photos, my mouth dropping once I read the information to be correct. “Oh my God, we’re pregnant!” I yelled, hugging the both of them tightly.

“No, you are not pregnant, Drew. Unless, you’re trying to drop some hints,” Ben said as he shook hands with Sterling.

“She’ll be pregnant tonight if she keeps up that same energy. Congratulations, brother. Chanel you’ll be an amazing mother and of course I will be the Godfather, don’t even have to ask,” Odell said, smirking a little to gauge the reaction out of everyone else. His bottom grill shinning bright in the dim lighting of the living room.

“That’s my godson in there loading,” Adrian said with a mouthful of food.

“Hush your mouth, Adrian. How do you know it’s not a girl?” Bailey questioned. At this point I had forgotten about the food and was so wrapped up in the excitement of a baby being added to the clang, but as for guys, they were masters of multitasking. This was almost as good as Football Sunday for them.

“Do you know the sex?” I asked.

“I won’t know for another two weeks. But I’ll honestly be happy with whatever God chooses to bless us with,” she smiled, lifting her shirt a bit to show her protruding belly.

“The audacity of you to not even give a bitch a hint. Knowing damn well I saw your ass two weeks ago and I offered you some mimosas too. Crazy,” I laughed.

“I know, that’s why I had to say something. You know I love you and yes, I will need your help planning this baby shower,”

“Well of course,” I smiled, kissing her cheek.

“Now that all that baby news is out of the way, let’s kindly go back to eating this delicious food that was made. You know I don’t like being the center of attention,” Chanel said as she took a bite out of the chicken.

“Says the Victoria Secret model,” Juan said, causing us all to laugh.

I returned back to my seat and immediately went for the macaroni. I grew up with southern parents so soul food and anything with seafood was a must for us. I could never not have have some on my plate, whether it was a side or my main dish. “Check your phone,” O said. He had been sending me bedroom eyes all night and even before we left. Flipping my phone back on its back, I slid my thumb over the message and unlocked it with my fingerprint. In its signature font read the message:

You want a baby?

I’ll give you that right now, whatever you want.

I hope you had enough sleep and rest while I was gone, I’m tearing that ass up.

I want dessert.. fuck the food.

My jaw dropped and I quickly locked my phone before Kory could see. The boyish grin that adorned his face was enough to make me combust. I have never been in a relationship where after years of dating, flirting is still a main priority. He makes it seem like he’s still courting me and it gives me butterflies no other man could do. None.

“Keep your dirty thoughts to yourself,” I snickered, taking a sip of the mixed rum drink.

“I would like to share it with you but you runnin’ from a nigga,” he mumbled, reaching over to feed me a piece of the spicy rice.

“I’m not.. I just wanted to finally be around everyone and just enjoy it you know. I got you, I promise,” I laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, my ass,” he grumbled, leaning back in his seat as he watched me eat. “The way you slurping on those noodles I want to see you do that on my d-“

“SO GUYS, where are we going this year for vacation? With Chanel being pregnant now, I don’t think anywhere too far is a good idea. Hawaii?” I spoke up before he could utter the word and have everyone in the group realize how sexually frustrated, he is. It turned me on just knowing that he was able to withhold himself for so long and wait till he came back just to have me all to himself. I know how lonely it can get on the road, but he never fails me and for that I always go above and beyond as he deserves it.

“Turks and Caicos isn’t too far away either,” Sterling said, as the general conversation shifted. Thank God.

I caught a quick glimpse of his cunning smirk before he downed the rest of the drink.

“Ben, stop fucking around and wash these dishes. Hot girl summer is here, and you guys lost that round of Uno,” Everyone could hear Bailey yell at Ben as she stood at the entrance of the kitchen to watch him. She was definitely the mom of the group.

“Has anyone seen Odell?” I asked.

“Last I seen him he was heading to the balcony. Go get him tiger,” Kory smirked. I shook my head and grabbed the bottle of Moscato off the table and traipsed towards the back where the faint scent of his cologne led me to his whereabouts. He was overlooking the city view as he leaned against the railing. I placed the bottle of alcohol on the floor and quietly crept towards him, wrapping my arms around his waist and laying my head on his broad shoulders. It seemed like a sigh of relief came from his lips as he purposely turned around and held me against him.

“Did you know a hug that lasts about 20 seconds produces a hormone called oxytocin that has a positive effect on the body and mind? That’s why I want to hug and cuddle so much,”

“I thought it was because a nigga smelled good. But something to that effect,” he laughed.

“Well you do and I’m sorry I’ve been teasing you all night,” I pouted, my lips puckering up. “Give me kiss.. I’ll make it up to you right now,” I said, tugging on his beard.

His eyes widened at my promise and he immediately dropped his head down to meet my awaiting lips. His soft lips enveloped mine, sucking on my bottom lip so tenderly it almost left me weak in the knees. If he didn’t have his hands wrapped around my waist to catch me, I surely would have fell. My tongue danced against his as I gripped onto his t-shirt, wrapping my legs around his waist. “The guest bedroom and make sure you lock the door this time,” I whispered.

#I'm a little rusty but here's nada #send them request in

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filmfanatic82 · 4 years

Photo

AO3 Link (HERE)

Chapter 11

“But nothing is better, sometimes

Once we've both said our goodbyes

Let's just let it go

Let me let you go

Quiet when I'm coming home and I'm on my own

I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that

I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that”

-- When the Party’s Over, Billie Eilish

__________

“Okay, so it’s definitely not Kaleb,” Hope says with a strong exhale of air as she sits down next to Penelope on the main hall staircase a short while later.

Penelope stops twirling the paperback copy of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and looks over at Hope. “You sure?”

“1000%. I had to spend a good thirty minutes explaining what a cardigan even was to him… Any luck with Pedro?”

“Nope. The boy hasn’t heard anything. Promised to keep his eyes and ears peeled, though, just in case.”

“And you trust he won’t mention that we’re looking for it?” Hope asks with a quirk of her brow.

“Yup. His lips are sealed. Bribed him with half a dozen comic books and fifty bucks,” Penelope offers up.

“Comic books?”

“MG. Told him I needed them as collateral.” Penelope pauses for a moment to run her hands through her messy locks and tucks a few loose strands behind her ears. “Promised I’d replace them as soon as I could. Just add that to things I need to do if we survive the next few days.”

“Have you ever even stepped foot in a comic book store?”

“What’d you think?” Penelope replies.

“I think MG might as well kiss those comics goodbye,” Hope says with a light laugh.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Furball.” Penelope starts to twirl the book once again, channeling all of her pent up anxiety and nerves into the mundane action. “Also talked with Raf, Jed, Emma, and that pack of freshman witches that like to follow me around. Nothing from any of them.”

“Who’s left?” Hope asks in earnest which only causes Penelope to answer with a ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ look. “What?”

“I’ll give you two guesses.”

“Fuck.” Hopes slumps down further onto the steps as the realization hits her dead on. “You don’t think…”

“No clue… I mean it’s possible. But it’s also possible that a 6th-century possessed gargoyle did it as well. So who knows?”

“Not possible.”

“Huh?”

“The gargoyle. It’s not possible. They can be enchanted but can’t outright perform magic on their own. So it’s not a gargoyle.”

Penelope gives a hard roll of her eyes. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“You’re the one that brought up a gargoyle, not me.”

“I was being facetious, Hope,” Penelope fires back with a slightly heightened level of annoyance. Hope senses the tension radiating off of Penelope and without another word, wraps her arm around the raven-haired girl.

“Hey. I told you already. We’ll find the sweater, okay?”

“What if it’s Josie?” The question hanging in the air between them for a moment or two, neither one quite ready to fully embrace that reality.

“Or it could be Lizzie,” Hope says back with a shrug. “It’s a fifty fifty, right?”

“Liz I can deal with, but Josie…” Penelope trails off as her fingers drift upwards towards her neck.

“Then we’ll divide and conquer. You take Lizzie and I’ll take Josie.” Hope glances down at her watch. “It’s almost 8 pm now. Best place to start is their dorm room. I can head there now while you check the kitchen.”

“The kitchen?”

A noticeable blush spreads across Hope’s cheeks. “Lizzie usually likes to grab a bag of those kettle chips that Alaric stocks in the pantry before heading up to bed.”

The tension slightly dissipates from Penelope as she can’t help but laugh. “Stalker much?”

“Not a stalker,” Hope says, regaining her composure. “I’ve just run into her while grabbing a late-night snack for myself once or twice before. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” Penelope hums unconvincingly.

Now it’s Hope’s turn to roll her eyes. She unwraps herself from Penelope, giving her a hard but playful shove in the shoulder as she does and then rises to her feet. “God, are you always this annoying?”

Penelope doesn’t respond. Instead, she rises up as well and flashes Hope one of her trademark smirks. “Meet back here in thirty?”

“Thirty it is,” Hope starts to head up the staircase, but suddenly stops halfway. “And don’t go and do anything stupid, Park. Cause I’m not quite in the mood to save your ass tonight.”

“I make no promises, Mikaelson.”

__________

Penelope aimlessly wanders down the desolate hallway lost within her own sea of thoughts.

There had been no signs of Lizzie-- no anyone else for the matter-- in kitchen. Nor the dining hall. Or even the secret teachers’ pantry that no one is supposed to know about.

Not a soul to be found anywhere.

But that’s what’s to be expected late on a Sunday evening at the Salvatore School. A dead quiet campus. Students tucked away within their dorms, either already fast asleep or in the process of going to bed.

Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary.

And that’s what makes Penelope’s skin crawl.

It’s too normal.

Like an eerie stillness before a storm.

“Hello, Satan,” Lizzie’s voice cuts through the silence sending an instant set of chills running down Penelope’s spine. She stops dead in her tracks and slowly turns around to find Lizzie standing at the other end of the hallway. The blonde-haired siphoner locks eyes with Penelope as her face contorts into a sick smirk of satisfaction.

And then, Penelope sees it.

The yellow sweater.

Josie’s yellow sweater.

It dangles limp and lifeless from Lizzie’s hand, almost irreconcilable in the darken, moonlit shadows except for its Salvatore School patch partway peeling off of the threadbare fabric.

“Missing something?” Lizzie asks raising the sweater ever so slightly as she does. A wave of gut-churning fear crashes down upon Penelope, causing her legs to wobble. She swallows dryly and desperately tries to hold onto her emotionless composure as Lizzie slowly makes her way closer.

“Liz, I can--”

“Explain?” Lizzie cuts Penelope off, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, I’m dying to hear it. Especially the part where you explain exactly how you wound up in possession of what looks to be my sister’s sweater when I know for a fact that it’s in our dorm room right now on the back of Josie’s desk chair.”

“It’s not her sweater.” The lie flows freely from Penelope’s lips without hesitation and yet she knows right away that it isn’t enough to convince Lizzie.

“Nice try,” Lizzie replies. “Actually, I take that back. It’s a horrible try. Do you think I’m an idiot? Her name is written right here on the tag.”

Lizzie flips the sweater over and holds up the tag for Penelope to see, but it’s not needed. Penelope has long since burned those five black scrawled out letters into her memory.

“So we’re going to try this one more time. What are you doing with my sister’s sweater?”

“Liz, it’s not what you think.”

“Ha!” Liz takes another step forward, causing Penelope to counter with her own step backward. “There. You did it again. You called me Liz. Talk about waving a gigantic red flag. I knew something was off from the very first moment you called me Liz. But no… Everyone said I was overreacting and being paranoid. That there was nothing unusual about it.”

“You know you’re monologuing, right?” Penelope says trying to defuse the growingly dangerous situation. She knows she’s once again playing with fire, but sarcastic remarks have always been her fallback. The last resort of sorts for whenever things aren’t looking so hot.

“Shut up!” Lizzie shouts with a burst of anger. Penelope takes yet another step backward in caution, eyes never leaving Lizzie.

Not even for the slightest of milliseconds.

Josie might’ve almost killed her, but Lizzie…

Lizzie is the real Saltzman twin to watch out for.

Although Penelope never had the opportunity to witness her in action firsthand, the tales were more than enough to paint a picture of what the fair-haired Saltzman could potentially do if provoked.

“Please…” Penelope pauses for a moment as her eyes brief dart away from Lizzie and towards the sweater. “Just give me the sweater and I promise I’ll explain everything.”

“Yeah. Don’t think so, Park.” Lizzie inches closer and Penelope notices how her hand clenches even harder around the yellow fabric, almost to the point of disintegration. It’s another telltale warning. One that Penelope can’t help but fixate on.

Can Lizzie siphon from the sweater?

No.

Not possible.

It’s just a sweater.

There isn’t an ounce of magical energy within it and yet…

The question still lingers with Penelope. Ever present and nagging.

“Who are you?” The single question comes out as a growl and Penelope grits her teeth as another, more powerful set of chills run rampant throughout the length of her body.

“I’m Penelope.”

“Eh’nt! Wrong answer.”

“I am. I swear.”

“You want to know how I know you’re lying?” Lizzie responds, eyeing narrowing down with laser-like focus. “The sweater told me so.”

“What?”

“Did I stutter? The sweater.”

Penelope shakes her head trying desperately to follow along. “But how? I don’t…”

“Oh wow… I think this is a first. Finally, there’s something that the all-power Penelope Park doesn’t know,” Lizzie replies. “I used an aetate charm mixed in with a super dose of whatever magic I siphoned from your room, which by the way, was off the charts. I haven’t had a rush like that since I accidentally siphoned off of my great aunt Gladys during Thanksgiving dinner. She was a notoriously powerful witch in our coven and let’s just say after siphoning from her I was able to levitate my dad’s Land Rover for like a month.”

Lizzie pauses for a moment, getting lost within the memory and Penelope takes the opportunity to quickly glance behind her at the library doorway.

Only 20 feet away.

She could make a run for it and maybe track down Hope…

Or MG…

Or anyone else that could help her defuse Lizzie.

“Don’t you even dare think about it,” Lizzie says and Penelope whips her attention back around to the blonde-haired siphoner. “Now where was I? Oh right… The sweater. The funniest thing happened when I used the aetate charm. It revealed that this sweater was somehow ten years old. Which is impossible because I know for a fact that my sister bought this sweater only four years ago. So which brings me back to my question… Who are you and what is this?”

“I told you already… I’m Penelope Park. And that is Josie’s sweater.” Penelope holds her breath upon these words, as an unsettling silence falls between the two of them. She studies the icy blue eyes staring back at her and suddenly wishes that she had paid more attention to all of those times that Caroline had tried to teach her the art of mind compulsion.

“Gelida.”

The curse hits Penelope before she has time to even process the word that Lizzie has just uttered. Every muscle in her body instantly locks, frozen by an invisible force. Penelope can’t move an inch, let alone even blink.

All she can do is breathe.

Lizzie inches forward as a look of puzzlement crossed over her face. “Okay. Now I know for sure you aren’t Penelope. The real Penelope would’ve seen that coming from a mile away. Hell, even Pedro would’ve.”

Penelope rages against the curse with every ounce of strength she has in her, beyond desperate to respond. But the curse wins out. She’s paralyzed.

“If you won’t tell me the truth, then let's see what you have to say to Josie and my dad,” Lizzie says. She gives Penelope one last look before turning on her heels and taking off down the hallway.

And all Penelope can do is watch in frozen silence, as wave after wave of the dreaded impending doom slowly drowns her.

__________

“Pen?”

Penelope’s eyes pop open at the distinct sound of Josie’s voice. It's been well over an hour since Lizzie left her and all that she’s managed to regain control over so far is her eyelids and her left pinky finger.

“Penelope?” The voice grows closer and Penelope once again fights against the invisible force that is holding her hostage within her own body. She screams out internally, desperate to answer, but no sound emerges.

“Pen? Where are-- Oh my god! Pen?!” Josie rounds the corner of the hallway and finally comes into view. Penelope’s eyes light up and she blinks rapidly. It isn’t much, but it’s enough for Josie to instantly understand.

Josie places her hand on the nearby wall. “Regelo!”

Penelope collapses against the hardwood floor with a thud. She slowly rolls over onto her side as a long groan escapes her lips. Everything hurts.

“Pen! Are you alright?” Josie rushes over and crouches down next to the raven-haired girl. Penelope nods as she takes a moment to recompose herself.

“Yeah. I’m okay,” Penelope replies. She pushes herself up into a sitting position and cracks her neck. “Just insanely sore.”

“What happened? Who did this to you?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Pen…”

“It doesn’t.” Penelope shakes her head. “How’d you know where to find me?”

“Lizzie. She burst into our room ranting and raving that you weren’t the real you but some sort of demon and that she had trapped you in the downstairs hallway. I sorta ran out on her after that, but she threw this at me as I was leaving.” Josie pauses for a moment and pulls out the yellow sweater from the pocket of her sweatshirt. “She said she found it in your room? It looks like my sweater, but… but it can’t be. This one’s all torn up and destroyed… Pen, what is this?”

Penelope stares at the sweater as her mind races for something-- anything-- to say.

“Penelope?” Josie asks again and the underlying quiver to her voice slices through Penelope like a white-hot knife.

Penelope closes her eyes and then swallows back down the rising lump of emotions in the back of her throat. “It’s yours.”

“What?”

“It’s your sweater.”

“But… I don’t… How?”

“Because it is.”

It’s not an answer.

It’s a deflection.

And a vague one a best.

Josie deserves more. An actual explanation as to why the sweater exists and its origins.

But revealing the truth-- even the vaguest of tidbits-- is nothing short of opening Pandora’s box.

A risk that Penelope isn’t willing to take. Especially not when she knows the potential horrors that can come from it.

“You promised you wouldn’t lie to me,” Josie says and Penelope feels the emotional blade cut even deeper.

“I know.”

“Then tell me the truth.”

“I can’t…” Penelope replies in nothing more than a whisper and as soon as the words leave her lips, she knows that they are the final two nails in the coffin.

But there’s no other choice.

Josie’s chocolate brown eyes burn into Penelope’s skin as the silence of the desolate hallway once again all but engulf them. And all Penelope can do is focus on the yellow sweater on the ground before her.

Her once most beloved possession now turned Achilles heel.

“Then we’re done.”

The words hang heavy in the air, reverberating in the space around Penelope. She shuts her eyes in an effort to hold back the forthcoming tears and gives the tiniest of nods in understanding.

Footsteps soon follow, growing fainter and fainter until finally disappearing altogether back into the darkness.

Penelope doesn’t need to open her eyes to confirm what her heart already knows. Josie is gone.

And this time, it’s for good.

#posie #legacies #josie x penelope #josie saltzman #penelope park #hope mikaelson #lizzie saltzman #ao3 #fanfic #wlw

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keeroo92 · 5 years

Text

True North Part 3

This practically write itself. Thanks again @clevermentalitybeliever for your support! I kinda have to apologize for the giant pile of angst I’m leaving you, but the payout’s gonna be so good...This has turned into quite a project and I’m loving every minute!

Link to Part 1

Link to Part 2

Trigger/content warning - mentions of physical abuse.

____________________

V rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn, putting the car in park. He was half an hour early for work, but this was when you normally arrived. Your car wasn’t there yet, not a good sign. He took a gulp of his coffee, the strongest the barista could manage. So far, it hadn’t helped much. Six shots only to not lose consciousness.

He occupied his mind by thinking of new jokes, new ways to make you smile. Did you like pranks? Dante played enough on him as a child, he had plenty of ideas. Some would need to be toned down, Dante wasn’t exactly gentle.

He checked his phone. Ten minutes since he arrived.

How long should he wait before texting you? There hadn’t been any more messages since last night, but even in his current state he knew he was being paranoid. He couldn’t stop worrying, it was eating him alive and he didn’t understand why. You were his boss and his friend, yes, but so was Nero and he didn’t have this reaction to him being in danger.

Well, Nero is a fighter. He can take care of himself. She can’t.

That I know of.

He took another sip of coffee. The trouble was how much he simply didn’t know. His mind filled in the blanks with the worst case scenarios on repeat, merciless in its torment. It made him want to scream.

Another sip.

Was that an engine? He scanned the portion of road he could see in the rearview mirror, spotting a sedan on approach. It was the wrong color and he sat back with a huff. How long now? He checked his phone.

It’s only been fifteen minutes.

He sighed. Truly, this was driving him mad. All he wanted was to see you safe, make sure he hadn’t fucked up again. Why was that so exhausting, just to want one person to be safe?

Another sip.

His phone dinged.

Srry for late request, can U pick me up? Caleb not home.

V frowned. Was something wrong with your car? Did Caleb damage it somehow? It didn’t matter – he’d find out soon enough. He tapped out a quick response that he was on the way and started the car.

---Reader---

You smiled at his response. It was a relief to know that despite the disaster last night, V would still be there for you. He was a good man, a good friend. Honorable. Funny. Attractive.

And there I go again, thinking about how wonderful my employee is…

You distracted yourself by checking your email, catching up on your inbox as you waited by the window. There he was, pulling in right out front. You tapped the screen and hit send, telling him you were headed out to meet him.

You checked your reflection one more time, lifting the hem of your shirt to eye the angry bruise covering the lowest rib on the left side. It hurt like a bitch, but you didn’t think anything was broken. Cracked, at worst. You could get it looked at after work. All you had to do was not breathe deeply or twist and it should be fine.

Goddamnit, Caleb…

He was so kind growing up. Only over the last few years had he turned sour and angry. Sometimes he showed glimpses of who he used to be, and you weren’t quite ready to give up on him yet. Besides, he’d only hurt you a few times. Things would get better. He would get better. You just had to have faith.

He’s my brother and he loves me. He’s just going through a tough time.

You sighed and grabbed your purse. A twinge of pain in your side reminded you not to do that and you grimaced. It was going to be a long day.

Outside, V already had the door open for you. He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and a dull sheen replacing the usual glint of energy within them. It was obvious he’d barely slept. You tried to move the same way you always did, hiding the pain under a mask of normalcy. Pain was temporary, family was forever.

“Thanks for coming,” you said. V smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Anytime.”

As if I didn’t feel bad enough already…

You buckled your seatbelt and realized this was the first time you’d ridden with him. He didn’t seem like he’d be a reckless driver, but you crossed your fingers anyway.

“So, where’s your car?” he asked.

“Caleb borrowed it.”

He frowned and pulled onto the main road. So far, so good. He was silent for a long time, eyes focused on the road. The silence was deafening, and you were tempted to try the radio when his lips parted.

“What happened after I left?”

There it was. The question you had no idea how to answer. You hated lying, and V deserved better. The truth was on the tip of your tongue, begging to be spoken. You swallowed and looked at your lap, watching your fingers fidget.

“He calmed down and went to bed. No big deal.”

His eyes stole a glance at your face as he stopped for a red light. He didn’t look away until the car in front of him moved, not even blinking as he watched you. It was unnerving and you hoped he’d go back to his normal self by the time you got to work.

Maybe a little less funny for a few days, just till I’m better…

He sighed. “You know, I don’t just think of you as my boss. You’re my friend. If Caleb ever crosses the line, I hope you trust me enough to tell me.”

Fuck, how do I respond to that?

The truth welled up in your throat again, threatening to force its way into the open. You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw until it subsided. The desire to tell V everything was strong, but you were stronger. You had to be.

“I do trust you. There’s nothing to worry about. He’s all bark, no bite.”

Your voice sounded tremulous to your ears, but V nodded. His easy acceptance of your lie left you feeling sick as he pulled into the parking lot. Bile rose in your throat and you shoved it back as you got out of the car, moving slowly to favor your rib.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” V asked.

Damnit.

“Just a stomachache, I’ll be fine once I get some pepto.”

Once inside, you took stock. It wasn’t usually a problem if you left the shop in Peter’s hands, it rarely got busy enough to warrant more than two people working at a time. Nothing looked too far behind, so yesterday was more of the same.

“Can you start the sorting? I’ll do some appraisals until we open,” you said. Though he didn’t look happy to be assigned work on the other side of the building, V did as you asked. You breathed a careful sigh of relief and got to work, praying you’d make it through the day.

---V---

It was over a week before you seemed normal again, moving with ease and confidence throughout the shop. He hated keeping his mouth shut, hated that he was at least eighty percent certain of why you favored your left side. It stung that you didn’t trust him enough to tell him the truth, but he understood and did his best to respect the boundary.

He swore if it ever happened again, he would unleash all his fury on Caleb.

The time he shared with you was precious and rare as the holidays approached, one of the two busy seasons. You hired a few seasonal employees and sent V to handle their training. It was either a compliment to his growing skill or an attempt to maintain some distance, and his mixed feelings left him confused and annoyed.

He wished every day that the easy, joking nature of your friendship would return, and every day he was disappointed. It hurt, far more than he would’ve guessed. You were the first friend he’d made in his new life after the Qlipoth. He was friendly with all his coworkers, but none of them made him smile the way you did.

He missed his familiars, too. Their companionship was worth more than he knew, and every time he felt the threads of connection that once flowed to them it broke his heart a little bit more.

By the week of Thanksgiving, he was the opposite of thankful.

He didn’t have any plans for the evening itself, and found himself going to work just to keep his mind occupied. He had a key now. You trusted him more with your business than your friendship.

Stop thinking about it. It never helps. Focus on the task in front of you.

A massive pile of new arrivals arrived just yesterday. It needed to be sorted and appraised, then he’d see how much he could fit on the sales floor before Black Friday. A daunting task, perfect to use as a distraction. He lost himself in it easily.

Hours passed. He didn’t notice how late it was until his phone buzzed angrily on the counter by his elbow. Nero was calling.

We’ve barely spoken in months, why is he calling me now?

He tapped the green button, then put it on speaker. “Hello.”

“V! Where the fuck are you? Turkey’s almost ready!”

His brows furrowed. Not once had Nero mentioned he was welcome for the feast, and Fortuna was a seven hour drive away. He picked up the phone and switched off speaker, already pacing. He could barely hear the young man with the cacophony in the background. Quite a party he was missing.

“What are you talking about? I wasn’t told I was welcome.”

“Dude. We didn’t think you were so dense you needed to hear it out loud. You’re always welcome.”

His lips twitched. A simple miscommunication, then. How absurd, to have wasted so much energy and time feeling lonely. Relationships were far too complicated; he wasn’t a mind reader, how was he supposed to know?

“Next time, I’d appreciate more direct communication.”

“Yeah, no problem. Guessing you can’t make it, then? Still in Red Grave?”

“Yes, I have to work tomorrow.”

“All right, well I’m putting you on speaker. Everybody say hi to Uncle V!”

What sounded like at least fifty people shouted out various iterations of the greeting and V’s heart warmed at the sheer number of voices on the other end. Only one was missing.

Yours.

He sighed. “Thank you, everyone. I’ll visit soon, I promise.”

“You better!”

The line cut out for a moment as Nero took him off speaker. The background noise faded and V could almost hear Nero’s heavy footsteps as he left behind the bulk of the group.

“What’s up, brother? You seem weird. Well, weirder than usual.”

What should he say? Was any of it even worth mentioning? Nero was at a party, he had better things to do than listen to his complaints.

“I don’t want to trouble you.”

“Tell me or I start driving.”

And suddenly he couldn’t hold it in anymore. The stress, the guilt, the loneliness. His joy at finding a friend and his sorrow at the chasm that now separated you. How much it hurt to be held at arms distance. The pain that despite the victory over Urizen, he felt like he’d lost. By the time he fell silent, he was utterly drained.

“Jeez, dude… That’s a lot. I’m sorry you’re dealing with so much shit. I mean, the way you talk about Y/N sounds like how I talk about Kyrie.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Damn, you really are dense sometimes. I mean you want more than friendship from her. That’s why it hurts so much. You got feelings.”

V sighed. He could hardly believe he was actually listening to Nero. But he was the only person he knew in a successful relationship, so maybe he had a point.

“I can’t deny I’ve entertained the thought. More than once. I’ve almost paid her back, but she’s still my boss.”

“Then quit. Find a new job.”

He shook his head. “I like working here, though. Working with her.”

“You need to figure out what’s more important, then. The job, or the lady. Ah, shit, someone started a food fight. I gotta go, but call me soon. Or I’ll call you, whatever.”

“Thanks, Nero. Talk to you soon.”

He lowered the phone and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had a lot of thinking to do, but there was one thing he had to do first. With a few taps of the touch screen, he hit send before he could think too much. Three words.

I miss you.

Part 4

#commisions #fanfic #v x reader #dmc5 v #dmcv #devil may cry #reader insert

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