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Boyfriends :3
#mortal kombat#johnshi#johnny cage#kenshi takahashi#mk johnny cage#mk1#they came into my house and beat me with hammers and now they’re my favorite ship#mk kenshi
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Play Me One More Time
Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader Words: 3900 Warnings: FLUFF, little bit of angst but it's completely overwhelmed by the FLUFF, a swear word or two Synopsis: Marcus puts out a call for your old band to get back together again. You accept, but how long will it take before old feelings for Marcus get in the way?
Inspired by this gifset
Fic Masterpost
The notification popped up on your phone during your lunch break at work. Where you sat at your classroom desk next to the window you could hear children screaming and laughing. You nearly missed the ping of your phone over the sounds.
Holding your half eaten sandwich in one hand, you curiously swiped down from the top of your phone and clicked on the notification without much thought.
Marcus Pike has sent you a message!
You lost your grip on your sandwich as it plonked down onto your lap, but that was the least of your worries. You frantically tried to exit out of the messaging app before it could open but nothing worked. The conversation opened and the word 'read' stared at you mockingly underneath his message.
You sighed, ignoring the sauce that was seeping through your cotton trousers. You had no choice but to read it now. And then you'd have to reply to whatever he had sent you or he'd think you were ignoring him.
Hey! Long time no speak! I've been in touch with Jo and Tom and was wondering if you wanted to get the old band back together? Maybe have a catch up if you're not too busy? Let me know :)
You chewed on your bottom lip as you reread the message half a dozen times, heart hammering in your chest as you realised Marcus must be back in your hometown. You'd heard through Jo that he'd moved to Washington a couple of years ago, so what had brought him back?
You haven't played in the band since your college days, and your only captive audience since then has been the pre-school kids you teach. But you couldn't pass up the opportunity to see Marcus again, the man you'd been head over heels in love with since you knew what love was.
The school bell rang throughout the building, signalling the end of recess and the beginning of afternoon lessons.
Marcus! So good to hear from you. Would love to catch up, are you free this weekend? x
By the time you cleaned up your trousers you had your reply.
This weekend is great. Want to meet at our old diner? Heard Mr Howells still owns it.
You grinned down at your phone, thinking about the afternoons you used to play hooky with Marcus and hide out at Mr Howells' diner. You were surprised Marcus remembered it.
He does! The burgers haven't changed either. Is Saturday 6pm any good?
You tapped your feet as you waited for his reply. Your children were lining up outside the door and you needed to know if you were having a date with your forever crush before continuing with your day.
When your phone pinged, you breathed out a sigh of relief.
Sounds perfect. Can't wait to see you again! :)
You sent the thumbs up emoji and put your phone away, opening the classroom door with a smile on your face and a pep in your step.
-
You'd been here, at Mr Howells' Diner, a week before Christmas with a couple of teacher friends you worked with but now it felt different. Now you had memories of you and Marcus giggling over overflowing chocolate milkshakes and feeling sick from gorging on too many salty fries floating through your head. You saw Marcus' baby face fading into a sharp jawline and high cheekbones, you'd seen him change from boy to man in this diner, and he'd seen you change from girl to woman.
You bounced from one foot to the other nervously as you peaked through the window of the door in search of your old friend.
"You could've waited inside," came a deep voice from behind you. You spun around and came face to face with Marcus. He glowed yellow and red under the neon sign above you, but he looked beautiful, grin plastered wide on his face as he took you in for the first time in years.
"Hey," you managed to breathe out a welcome without too much embarrassment, "I didn't know if you were already here."
"Shall we?" Marcus stepped closer to reach around you and open the door.
You blinked to readjust your eyes to the bright fluorescent lights inside the diner. You giggled when you realised Marcus was doing the same.
"You weren't lying, it's hardly changed since we were kids," Marcus laughed, eyeing the original furnishings and old menu signs hanging on the walls.
You took a seat in your old booth, the one you and Marcus would automatically flock to when you were younger. It was far enough away from the counter that you had privacy for your teenage musings, but it overlooked the car park so you could watch out for anyone you needed to hide from.
"This takes me back," Marcus mused, shaking off his coat when you did the same.
"Yeah, it brings back so many memories."
"Do they still do the Choc'o'Shock shakes?"
You laughed and pointed towards the milkshake menu above the counter.
"They do!?" Marcus gasped loudly, eyes wide in surprise, "that was my favorite, with the popping candy-"
"- and the cinnamon, yeah, we used to share because it was in the extra large glass."
"Yeah, oh man."
Your laughter died down as soon as the waitress came over and took your orders. Your nerves from earlier had completely disappeared. Even in the silence that followed the waitress leaving the table it was comfortable as you both tried to find the words to start a conversation.
"I've been in Washington for a couple of years," Marcus began.
"For work?"
"Yeah, I needed to go away for a bit. Some things happened and a fresh start was what I needed."
You nodded as you listened. You wanted to ask more but you had to remember your friendship wasn't what it used to be. There was a boundary now, an unspoken line that came with not being in each other's lives for so long.
"Are you back for good?" you asked.
"I hope so. Nothing beats home, y'know?"
"I dunno, I envied you moving to the city whilst I stayed on the outskirts. Felt like you were moving on to bigger and better things and I was staying still." You shrugged it off. You hadn't meant to be that honest but it was what you had felt at the time.
"You're still teaching aren't you?"
"Yeah," you smiled at the waitress as she brought over your drinks, you were glad for the distraction.
"You still like teaching?"
"I wouldn't want to do anything else," you smiled, thinking of the kids you taught, "it's a privilege to get to shape young minds, y'know? Even at pre-school age, they're so inquisitive, and they question everything and I'm the one that gives them the answers."
Marcus smiled as he listened. You suddenly felt shy under his intense gaze, something you'd never felt around him before. But he was listening, really listening to you and it felt so good that he wanted to get to know this different, older version of the person he'd known years ago.
"You look happy," Marcus sighed happily, though you sensed something else in his tone that you couldn't put your finger on.
"I'm happy with my job," you replied, but now there was something in your tone, a comment unspoken, 'I'm happy with my job but not in other aspects of my life'.
"And outside of work?"
Damn you Marcus and your ability to look right through me.
You gave him a smile that didn't reach your eyes, a smile that told him that things weren't as perfect as your job.
"I can't complain."
"You can to me," Marcus pushed his coffee to the side and gave you his full attention. He'd always been good at giving you his full attention, maybe that was why it was so easy to fall in love with him.
"I live on my own, have for a while. It's fine, it's what it is." You couldn't look him in the eye, instead focusing on cars pulling in and out of the parking lot.
"I get it. The older I get the harder it is to find someone special," Marcus said wistfully. You glanced over to him and he showed you a crooked smile. "It is what it is."
Your food was placed down in front of you and thankfully your conversations turned lighthearted.
The hug he gave you on the steps outside the diner was longer than normal but you weren't one to complain. You held him close, breathing in the sweet, smoky scent of his cologne and committing it to memory.
"Band practice."
You sighed dramatically as you pulled away from him.
"I sing to pre-schoolers, I'm not as good as I used to be."
"You had a voice of an angel, that doesn't just go away."
You rolled your eyes at his compliment, but you felt warm inside.
"Just don't laugh at me, okay?"
"I promise," Marcus said, and you believed him.
-
Band practise was at Tom's childhood home, just like the good old days. He had moved into the house when his parent's moved back to their home country of Cuba when they retired five years ago. The white, spiky outer walls reminded you of the time when you fell up the steps and smacked your head against the sharp spikes. You involuntarily cringed.
The garage was nostalgic in every way. It still housed a legless, cracking leather couch (where you used to sit way too close to Marcus on), Tom's 90's television set sat above collections of dusty VHS tapes, bicycle frames decorated the walls and a drum kit was set up on the far side of the wall.
"Please don't tell me the drums have been here since the end of college?"
Tom laughed and shook his head at you.
"Jo helped me get them down from the attic."
You raised your eyebrows at Jo who blushed and quickly looked away in response. There had been this unspoken thing between her and Tom throughout college, just as there had always been something quietly charged between you and Marcus. Except you had your suspicions that Jo and Tom had had the courage to do something about their thing at some point.
Marcus entered through the garage door, rubbing his hands together with a childlike excitement on his face.
"I don't know if it's because I'm getting old but I've been looking forward to this all week."
You laughed and before you knew it you were behind a microphone stand singing late 90's/early 2000's indie anthems with your friends playing behind you.
"Should we play some of our old songs?" Jo asked innocently.
"No."
"Fuck no."
"Absolutely not."
You all burst into fits of giggles.
You thought back to those songs you used to write and sing. "They were all so..."
"Angsty."
You turned to Marcus who had spoken. You nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, what was that about? What was going on in our lives that we had to write like that?"
You were being lighthearted but the way Marcus flashed you a sad smile had you taken aback. What did Marcus write about? You wished you still had your lyric books, maybe that would give a clue as to what teenage Marcus Pike was thinking and feeling.
"Lunch break anyone?" Tom shook you out of your thoughts and you were quick to jump at the chance to change the subject.
-
Over the next few months you all met up for band practice whenever you were all free, which was rare. Eventually the meet ups became less about the music and more about getting to know what was going on in your friend's lives since college.
The summer evenings were getting cooler and you took the opportunity to light a fire pit in Tom's back garden and sit around with beers in hand and Jo's phone hooked up to a small speaker playing background music to your conversations.
"So, the FBI, " Jo took a sip of her beer, "you must have some stories."
Marcus preened under the attention, goofy smile stretched wide as he picked at the label on his beer bottle.
"Yeah, none that I can tell you I'm afraid."
You joined in on the mock 'boos' that echoed around the pit. Marcus laughed.
"I'm sorry! Anyway, I specialised in art, it's not that interesting."
"Any art heists?"
"No, Jo."
"You know I saw a documentary on Netflix about these Rembrandt's..."
Tom's voice seemed to fade away as you caught Marcus' eye over the flames of the fire. You felt content under his gaze, like you'd done this a million times, like you were teenagers again listening to Tom go on about something you weren't interested in, hearing Jo pacify him absentmindedly whilst you and Marcus spoke without speaking.
It reminded you how in sync you always were, and still seemed to be. It hurt that after all these years there was still something between you, but was it enough? Marcus had come back to his hometown but you still weren't sure why.
You smiled a wobbly smile and stood from your camping chair.
"I'm just going to get some water," you announced and made your way towards the kitchen.
You didn't put the light on, instead taking to stand in the darkest corner of the room to catch your breath. You closed your eyes and leant your head back against the wall, not seeing Marcus following you in.
"You okay?"
You jumped in surprise but didn't choose to reply to him just yet. You needed to gather your thoughts together, try and have this conversation without all the emotions you felt bubbling up inside of you spilling out in front of Marcus.
"Why did you come back?"
You opened your eyes to see Marcus leaning back against the kitchen island. He was too far away to touch, but close enough that you could smell the smoke from the fire on his clothes.
"It's home. It's where I'm most comfortable. It's where all my memories are."
Were you satisfied with that answer? It seemed too vague to be completely true, but Marcus was never a liar. He seemed to sense where your head's at and sighed.
"There was someone. I wanted it to be serious. We got engaged, I promised her the world, we were going to fly out to Washington together. But it turned out I wasn't who she wanted."
You don't know what got to you the most, the fact that someone rejected this wonderful man, or that he didn't sound all that sad about it.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be, it made me realise I didn't want any of it either. I do want all of that, but not with her."
He whispered the last bit but in the silence of the kitchen it was hard to miss. He wanted someone else. And at that realisation you think you felt your heart crack cleanly in two.
You didn't know how to respond without admitting how you've felt for over fifteen years. You leaned away from the corner you had tried to hide yourself in and came to stand in front of Marcus.
"It's her loss. You know that, right?"
Marcus' eyes sparkled in the setting sun, and you realised it was because they were watery. You moved forward quicker than you could think and engulfed him in your arms, holding him tight to your chest as he instantly wrapped his arms around you.
You had done this hundreds of times, but this time it felt special, and you couldn't put your finger on why.
-
Your morning class hadn't even begun when your phone rang in your bag. Glancing at the bright red clock on the wall you had five minutes before the first bell. You frowned, trying to find your phone amongst the mess of tissues, pens and bandaids that had fallen out of their packaging before you saw Marcus' name flashing on the screen.
"Hello?"
"Hey, I'm sorry it's so early, I'm just getting into work. I was wondering if you were free tonight?"
You felt your heart jackhammer in your chest and you inwardly cursed at the way Marcus' question had sounded. Like a date. You rolled your eyes at your nonsense.
"I should be free. Why?"
"I wanted to go back to the diner if you're up for it? We didn't order the Choc'o'Shock shake, wanted to see if it tastes exactly like it used to."
You smiled at the thought of sharing a shake like you used to, and found yourself agreeing.
"Sounds good. Meet you there at seven?"
"Seven's great."
You ended the call just as the bell rang. You reminded yourself that you were just two friends, catching up like you have been for months. And you wouldn't let yourself get your hopes up. Because now that you had Marcus back in your life, you wanted to keep it that way. And you weren't going to ruin it by telling him you loved him when he didn't love you back.
-
You got there ten minutes early so you took a seat at yours and Marcus' favored booth and waited. There was hardly anyone in the diner, a couple of families dotted about, two teenagers on a date giggling over milkshakes. It made you smile and hope that things turned out better for them than it did for you and Marcus.
The bell over the door chimed and in walked Marcus, freshly shaved, hair perfectly ruffled. He wore a smart jacket over a casual shirt and jeans. It made you feel a little underdressed, should you have dressed up?
He spotted you, long legs striding over with a purpose before taking the seat across from you, out of breath and cheeks tinged pink.
"I thought I was going to be late. Got a new assistant in the office but he's struggling to get to grips with the way I like things."
You smiled, trying to imagine the gangly, slightly awkward boy in your memories as someone professional, and bossy. You giggled.
"I've only just got here myself."
Marcus threaded his fingers together on top of the black and white checkered table.
"I wanted to talk to you actually, about the other night."
You frowned. Did he mean the night in the kitchen where you comforted him?
"You don't have to feel bad about it. It's normal to let out your emotions."
Marcus smiled gratefully. "I know that, I just want to be honest. I've always been a man who is upfront with the people I care about."
You nodded. Marcus was an honourable, straightforward man. You knew he'd never go behind your back and say something, he was completely trustworthy in that sense. In every sense. He was just a good guy.
"I didn't have to come back here this year. I had choices but after everything that had happened, I realised some things."
You mirrored his posture, hands on the table an inch away from his and gave him your full attention. Despite feeling sick to your stomach about what he was going to say next, you knew he needed you to listen, so you did.
"D'you remember the time I got my drivers license, and I took you for a ride in my dad's old pick up truck?"
"Of course. I warned you you should have driven something smaller so soon after your test."
"Yeah but I was trying to show off and I ended up getting it stuck in mud and I had to call my dad out to free us."
You chuckled at the memory. Marcus had been so embarrassed and you'd calmed him down by holding his shaky hand and plying him with copious amounts of gum to chew on to distract him.
"And when I got my letter to say I'd been accepted into the FBI training program, you were there when I opened it. And when we shared our first sip of alcohol at thirteen, and you got me my first VHS that taught me how to play bass, you remember that?"
"I remember it all, but I don't understand where you're going with this." You weren't opposed to this trip down memory lane, but it was bringing back all these moments in your life that just reminded you that you'd always loved him.
"If I made a movie of my life, all the important parts would have you in them. All the parts that make up the man I am today are filled with you. I never want you out of my life again."
You swallowed around the lump in your throat. You grabbed a paper napkin and quickly patted at the tears falling down your cheeks as you prepared to ask the question that may change your life forever.
"What are you saying, Marcus?"
"I love you."
You let out a shaky breath. Marcus gently took your hands in his.
"I think I always have, but I know for sure I do now. And these past months have confirmed everything. I love you."
"I've loved you since the day I met you. When I grazed my knees in the park by your house and you heard me crying from your garden. And you ran over and pulled me up to my feet and played with me."
Marcus laughed loudly, disturbing the teenagers a few booths over who looked annoyed in your direction. You couldn't care less.
"I remember. My mom told me off for playing with a strange girl but we were inseparable after that."
"We've wasted so much time," you whispered sadly.
"No. How have we? We've spent most of our life together, building memories, having the time of our lives. We've been apart for a bit but has it felt like it?"
You thought about it and realised Marcus was right. You've gotten back into the rhythm of your friendship. It's not once been awkward. Since your last diner date it's like you had never been apart.
"I suppose it hasn't."
"So," Marcus began, clearing his throat and flashing you a cheeky smile, "do we count this as the first date or...?"
You let out a shuddery laugh. "Marcus, we've been here a hundred times."
"I know but, only as friends."
"Were we ever really just friends? We were in this weird, middle-ground where everyone knew we were into each other but we never went further than a kiss on the cheek."
"Ah! There was that one time."
You frowned and crossed your arms. "What are you talking about?"
"Christmas break during the first year of college, I turned too much when you leaned in for a kiss on the cheek and we ended up kissing on the lips."
You laughed, a full belly laugh that had Marcus gently shushing you, though he couldn't contain his chuckling either.
"I completely forgot!"
"That breaks my heart," Marcus said with a wink.
You eventually ordered your Choc'o'Shock shake, sharing it like you used to. Except this time everything was on the table. Your feelings were out in the open, you were happier than you'd ever been and there was hope for you and Marcus to go forward together.
“Would you like a redo on that kiss?” Marcus asked on the steps outside the diner.
You pretended to think about it before taking hold of the lapels of his jackets. “I’d like that very much.”
Permanent tag list: @autumnleaves1991-blog @bts17army @phoenixhalliwell @anu-simps @computeringturtle
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chapter two.
⇥ pairing: namjoon x reader; eventual bts/ot7 x reader
⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst
⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity
⇥ word count: 2.3k
⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, chaotic namjoon, power tools, hints of poly relationships, overall pretty smut free (who AM i???)
© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.
characters | prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine
Chapter Two
Habitat for Humanity Worksite – 9:26am
When I signed up to volunteer Saturday morning of syllabus week, I should have known I would end up regretting it. I almost punted my alarm clock out of the apartment window this morning, but instead settled a slightly more civil action – punching the shit out of the ‘off’ button.
Don’t get me wrong: I love volunteering. It’s been part of my routine since sophomore year when I was recruited for the all-women’s service society on campus – the Alphites. As a society, us Alphites volunteer around campus and in our local community each week. There’s something about doing service together that really creates bonds, and the girls in the society have quickly become some of my closest friends.
We sign up to volunteer for a variety of different service projects each week, and Habitat is my current favorite project to sign up for. As a nonprofit organization, Habitat for Humanity helps families build and improve places to call home. Currently, our regional Habitat is working on building a house from the ground up for a local family in need.
Disclaimer: I am in no way, shape, or form a very ‘handy’ person. Luckily for me, there are always a couple volunteers with construction or engineering backgrounds who are willing to teach other volunteers with less experience – or none, like me.
Since beginning to volunteer at the site last year, I have learned how to use a power saw, how to fasten siding, and how to mix, pour and level cement. It’s definitely empowering to learn new skills and also to see how my handiwork contributes to someone’s future home. I also feel lowkey badass when I get to use the power drill for anything.
Pulling up to the worksite, I clutch my cherished 24oz. Wawa coffee. I finally feel somewhat human as I park my beat-up Jeep Wrangler and hop out to meet the other volunteers for our task assignments.
The site leader Eddie – a burly retiree with a background in construction management – greets me with a huge grin, “(y/n)-doll, we missed you this summer! I can’t believe you abandoned us during the hottest months of the year.”
I roll my eyes, smiling at his teasing. Eddie’s like a teddy bear disguised as a grizzly – all rough edges and a heart of gold. “Missed you, too, Eddie.”
“Look at our progress now,” he continues, “Pretty impressive, yeah?” Nodding, I greet some regular volunteers I recognize as Eddie leads me around the house. He proceeds to show me what they had done over the summer in my absence – and they had done a lot. The house now had its full foundation and wooden framing with most of the doors and windows installed.
As we walk back to the front of the house to the main area, I sip my coffee and turn to Eddie, “So, what can I work on today, fearless leader?”
Letting out a patented ‘Eddie belly-laugh’, he replies, “I know you worked on the siding at our last site so I'm gonna have you work on where we started the siding on the right side of the house.”
Sweet, I could work with that. “Aye, aye, captain,” I respond with a lazy salute of my coffee cup. Before I can turn to start towards the scaffolding to begin, Eddie stops me.
“Oh, one more thing. I’m gonna need you to orient our new volunteer and let him shadow you today. Kid’s from the same school as you, I think… Mandatory service. Anyway, he should be here any minute.”
Shit, I know what ‘mandatory service’ means. It’s the first form of disciplinary action that the college issues and is usually the only form of disciplinary action for our athletes or for Greek life – a fact I actively resent. During my time in the Alphites, I have had to deal with some of these ‘mandatory service’ characters and they’ve never been much fun to be around.
“Ah, that’s probably him now,” Eddie startles me out of my thoughts of dread and doom as a black gleaming Tesla practically purrs down the block, swinging into the spot next to my Wrangler. Scowling, I cross my arms as I survey the stark contrast between this person’s shiny-ass luxury car and my dirty-ass well-loved Jeep.
The Tesla door opens. A Timberland booted foot emerges followed by a thick leg encased in light jeans, a tanned well-muscled arm…
No. Nope, it couldn’t be— Please, not today, Satan.
He stands with his back to us now, stretching out his large body. In only a cutoff t-shirt, his rippling back muscles might be enough to send me into an early grave.
I sigh in bitter defeat of the inevitable. Seriously, the fucking universe must have it out for me because I can’t seem to shake this stupid fucking fraternity.
As if the boy feels my eyes on him, he turns. His eyes immediately clash with mine as he slams his car door, clicking the lock over his shoulder. Those eyes – golden brown beneath dark brows and a wave of bleached blonde hair. Their focus is absolute – hard – as he strolls towards us. It’s almost as if he knows the maddening effect that he has on me.
I think Eddie is speaking, but my senses are on lockdown, his words muted. My thighs tighten as my pulse picks up. Get a fucking grip, (y/n). I can’t let him know that just one look from him has me thirsty and oxygen-deprived. I can’t look away – that would be succumbing to weakness.
Instead, I hold his heated gaze as best I can as his confident gait brings him closer. God, he’s got to be at least 6 foot...
The goddamn president of BTS Kim Namjoon is getting closer and I can’t help running my eyes over him.
His thighs flex and shift beneath his jeans with every calculated step. His abs are apparent under his tight cutoff shirt emblazoned with his fraternity letters.
Namjoon stops in front of us, hands stuffed into his back pockets, biceps flexing. “Nice to finally meet you, Eddie,” Namjoon takes his eyes off me long enough to greet Eddie and shake his hand, but then they’re right back on me, “Hi, (y/n).”
He drags out my name in a such a sinful way that even old Eddie does a slight doubletake. Clearing his throat unnecessarily loudly, Eddie booms, “You two know each other?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Our differing replies sound at the same time.
“Yes,” Namjoon repeats, lips turning up in an infuriating smile, “We have several mutual friends that she’s met a couple times now. Want me to jog your memory? I’d be more than happy to do so.”
Eddie takes one look at my face and hustles off, mumbling something about support beams. I guess my inner thoughts of ‘kill, maim, slaughter’ could easily be read from my facial expression.
Namjoon opens his mouth to speak again, but I’m faster, “Listen, Kim, I don’t know who you think you are, and, quite frankly, I don’t care. What I do care about is this house and these people working on it. Don’t fuck this up for me, okay? Let’s just get through today and then you can go back to ordering around your brothers and causing general mayhem.”
I’m feeling pretty proud of my little soliloquy until I realize he’s still smiling with those blasted dimples out in full display. No, his smile has grown even wider now as he simply answers, “The semester.”
My nose crinkles in confusion, “What?”
“The semester,” he repeats, “I’m assigned here every Saturday for the rest of the semester.”
I stare at him.
He smirks back.
I stare.
His smirk begins to fade, “Uh, did you hear me?”
I stare.
“Okay, you’re creeping me out now, (y/n),” Namjoon waves his giant paw of a hand in front of my face, “How many fingers?”
I break out of my trance of denial and hiss, “What did you do? Double homicide? Serial arson? Oh my god, you were the one who blew up the science lab!”
His hand covers my mouth – it’s rough and warm and entirely disarming.
“You have quite the imagination, jagi. I’ll keep that in mind,” Namjoon chuckles, “To answer your question, I did none of the above. Now, answer a couple questions of mine: what did you do to get here and – more importantly – why did you distract Jungkook from doing his fucking job on Monday?”
I glare in response, waiting for him to remove his hand from my mouth. He takes too long, and I lick his palm. It works. He removes his hand, but from the look on his face it seems like he liked my tongue on his skin entirely too much.
Thankfully, Eddie chooses the perfect moment to yell across the site, “What are you doing just standing there, (y/n)-doll? I don’t pay you to just loiter around all day!”
“You don’t pay me at all!” I yell back, already moving towards the trailer with all the supplies to get started. Namjoon follows.
“(y/n)-doll?” his eyebrows are raised as I hand him a pair of the biggest gloves I could find, “What’s up with that?”
Taking a pair of smaller gloves for myself, I turn to look for some hammers and nails as I respond, “I’ve been here a while. He’s like my honorary grandfather at this point.”
I spot the hammers and nails tucked away on the highest corner shelf and I huff. Namjoon follows my gaze, “Need a strong, intelligent, tall young man to grab those for you?”
He’s impossible, but for some reason it draws a small smile to my face, “Yes, that’d be great.”
The smile I receive in response is so bright I wonder if it could make flowers grow, “Okay, but only if answer my questions, (y/n).”
I shrug, trying not to notice how his cutoff shirt rises as he stretches to reach the upper shelf. I catch a sudden glimpse of his abs, and I praise every god out there that hot weather can be blamed for my sudden onset of sweat.
Clearing my throat, I laugh lightly, “Fine, first of all, I didn’t ‘distract’ Jeon. I just had a temporary lapse in judgement. Besides, he came to me all on his own.” His back muscles tense up at my words, but I continue, “And second of all, there’s no juicy story of how I got here. I just volunteer here every Saturday for the Alphites.”
The sound of a hammer hitting the floor startles me as he whirls around, “You’re an Alphite?”
Namjoon’s tone is one of disbelief and it’s a tone I do not appreciate, “Yes, why is that so hard to believe?” My arms cross defensively, “I’ve been a sister since my sophomore year...”
I trail off. He’s still gawking at me ridiculously. Narrowing my eyes, I stride across the trailer and grab his chin, closing his mouth for him, “Watch out, Kim, you’re gonna catch flies.”
Spinning on my heels, I sashay out of the trailer, nose held high in the air and satisfaction held even higher. He’ll catch up. After all, he’s basically supposed to be my bitch today.
I climb up the scaffolding next to the house’s right side and assess the siding work that has already been started. It looks pretty solid and level. I should have no issue with continuing without having to make any initial corrections.
The sound of a bucket of nails hitting the top platform I’m sitting on alerts me of Namjoon’s impending presence. Saving the bucket from teetering over the edge – a safety hazard for sure – I watch amusedly as Namjoon struggles stay upright and climb up to where I am on the scaffolding. Finally, he plops down next to me – entirely too close. I can feel his stare on my skin as I steadfastly ignore him.
“Hey, jagi,” he pokes my arm, “(y/n), listen, you just caught me off guard. I mean, you don’t seem like the type to be an Alphite – that’s all.”
Fury curls up inside me for the umpteenth time that morning, as I turn to face Namjoon with a sickly-sweet smile that has him flinching back, “Then do tell, Namjoon, what type I seem to be?”
I pick up the hammer closest to me and dip a hand into the nail bucket. The sooner this siding got done, the sooner I could haul ass out of here.
“I feel like that’s a trick question,” Namjoon sighs, rubbing a hand over his chin, “I didn’t mean anything bad by it, okay? I guess I just have always thought that your society was a bunch of mom-types—”
I cut him off with a swing of my hammer in the air, “What’s wrong with mom-types, you uncultured swine? And is serving your community really such a ‘mom’ thing to do? I’m sorry. I must have missed that memo. Here I was thinking that it was public service but go off I guess.”
He blinks, “Did you just call me an ‘uncultured swine’?”
I sniff in indignation, “Get with the times, Kim. I just roasted your ass. Now hand me that piece of siding and make yourself useful.”
“You’re so weird,” Namjoon mutters, sliding my request over to me.
“So what?” I shrug, “All the best people are weird. Now, do me a solid and explain to me why you and your ‘brothers’ keep suspiciously popping up everywhere I go.”
“Haven’t you figured it out yet?” he grins, “We’re interested.”
“What does that even mean? That you’re interested?” I wrack my brain, “As in all seven of you fuckers?”
“It means, jagi,” Namjoon pauses, leaning closer, “It means that we’re going to date the shit out of you.”
a/n: i love namjoon. that is all.
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Bruises.
request: “hi there lovely! I've just came across your blog and would love to give you a request!! maybe something along the lines of the reader being a family friend if the weasleys for years and they've taken her under their wing at school and she gets into a physical fight with some other person that was making fun of the w.fam for their money situation and she gets detention with umbridge. when she comes out thought george kisses her and thanks for? ty lovie?!!”
word count: 2.278
warnings: mild violence, not really proofread
A/N: listen, I just want to say that obviously not all Slytherins are mean bullies, we all know that by now, right? for the sake of the plot these particular ones are bad xxx
Sound was erupting from everywhere around you as Gryffindor won against Slytherin. Mostly you could hear the yells of dismay and catcalls from Slytherin mixing with the roar from the Gryffindor stand. down on the pitch you saw the teams land on the ground, the Gryffindor team looking only somewhat happy amidst the chaos, all of them landing around Harry to check on him after being hit by a bludger in the last second of the game, though their concern quickly turned into annoyance as Malfoy swooped down in front of the group, saying something to them, though the crowd and the distance made it impossible for you to make out what that something was. Instinctively you found the two redheaded twins you called your best friends and going on the stiff looks on their faces, whatever Malfoy was saying wasn’t very sportsmanlike.
“This isn’t going to be pretty,” You say to yourself as you hurry down to the pitch, quickly dodging between disappointed Gryffindors and breaking into a sprint when you reach the grass of the playing field.
You’re too slow though, in the seconds it takes you to reach the team, Harry lets go of George and the two take on Malfoy, both of them quickly overpowering him until he’s lying on the ground, you can’t do anything other than help Angelina, Katie and Alicia hold Fred, who’s still struggling to break free and get to Malfoy, and yell out for George and Harry to stop, not because you have much pity for Malfoy, knowing he probably deserved every hit that he got judging by the boy’s harsh reaction, but rather because you fear Umbridge’s tyranny, and the punishment she’ll give Harry and George. If speaking out of turn got you the blood quill, as it had been named by your fellow students, then you didn’t want to imagine what outright violence got you, let alone two against one. You held onto Fred for what felt like an eternity before a blast from Madam Hooch’s wand knocked down George and Harry who both landed with heavy ‘thump’s on the grass.
“I’ve never seen such behavior before! Up to the castle, straight to your heads of house’s office, both of you immediately! Go on!” Madam Hooch screamed at the two boys, who picked themselves up and took off, in the meantime, Fred seemed to calm down, all you still holding onto his clothes for good measure while you headed towards the changing rooms,
“I-I’d better go back up to the castle,” you say, “I’ll see you all in the common room, alright?”
The group bids you goodbye and you turn to join the stream of students walking up towards the castle.
As you walk, the whole episode plays over and over again in your head. You’d never seen the twins so angry before, let alone had you never seen them being physically violent in that way. You’d known them since you were about eight, your parents were good friends of the Weasley’s and one summer, whilst your own house was having some construction done, the Weasley’s had offered to let your family stay with them. You’d been shy and had mostly kept to yourself until the twins beckoned you into their room to see their newest fireworks they’d gotten from Romania as a gift from Charlie. It had been incredibly easy to befriend the twins and years later you’d still consider them your best friends and you knew them to be some of the most easy going and happy people at Hogwarts so seeing George beat up Malfoy was new. You felt a pang of worry at the thought of George and the twisted devices Umbridge had surely set up to use on him as punishment, Malfoy was a favorite of hers after all, surely she wouldn’t treat this like any of the twin’s other antics. You’d developed a crush on George over the past year or so and just like befriending him, you’d found that falling in love with him had been more than easy, it was hard not to, really. You’d first realised you’d loved him when you’d had a really terrible couple of days, your essays had come back with bad marks despite you really having tried to understand the subject, hoping to get use the n.e.w.t to get your dream job, though at that moment it had seemed impossible with the ‘Poor’ marked on the parchment, then you’d received some harsh criticism from Snape, not that you’d normally care but in midst of your crisis with your essays, you’d let it get to you, and George had noticed, of course he had, he had a knack of reading you better than Fred - or anyone else - could. He’d sneaked you out after the sun had gone down, and together you went to Hogsmeade, walking the wet cobblestones together for what seemed like ages. He bought you sweets and sat with you in the three broomsticks until well after midnight, just talking and watching the various customers come and go.
“Why’d you take me here? I mean, not that I don’t appreciate it, I just-” you halted, your breathing never worked quite right when he looked you in the eye, “-why are you doing all this for me?” you ask, swallowing hard when his lips form a smile that honestly makes your heart stop. He thinks for a minute, allowing you to breathe again when his eyes move away to glance out over the three broomstick’s interior, the hag half asleep over her fifth scotch, the shifty cardplayers in the very back, sluggishly teasing each other earning them a warning from madam Rosmerta when their ale spills over, then back to you with your red nose and cheeks from the cold, your hair slightly frizzy from the wind,
“to get away from everything, I think,” He says, “sometimes it’s nice to just leave everything you know behind for a bit, you know?” He looks at you and when you don’t answer he continues,
“Sometimes, when I’m back home, it can get a bit too much, with my family and everything. Especially if you’re upset, it’s tough when you don’t even have a room you can shut yourself up in, except for maybe the bathroom,” he lets out a stout chuckle, then his expression softens again, “so, sometimes when I’m upset, I sneak out, and just walk through the fields until I can see the city in the distance, and I just sit, like we are, and it helps to be away, just for a little bit, and then when I feel better, I go back home and the strange thing is, that when I come back, Fred is always up and waiting for me, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so thankful to have a twin…” He falters, and realises he’s rambling, “I don’t know, I just thought you’d like to get some fresh air,” he adds, his ears turning red but you don’t say anything. You just stare at him whilst your heart hammers away at your ribs because for the first time you’ve realised how much he means to you.
You’d never told him any of that, though. That night you’d walked back to the castle together as if everything was the same, though you could never focus again whenever he’d put his arm around you and your heart still stopped in its tracks when his eyes met yours.
“If you ask me, then this just proves Malfoy’s point,” a voice says behind you, you turn and look and see a group of Slytherin girls walking together, “I mean attacking him like that just because he’d been giving them some slander, if that doesn’t scream “I was raised in a pigsty” then I don’t know what does,” the girl says, her friends letting out barks of laughter, “honestly what did Draco expect, haven’t you seen their pranks? they’re practically barbaric. Probably fight over scraps of food the poor things,”
“Shut up!” You spun around to face the three girls, neither of whom looked threatened by your outburst,
“What gives you the right to speak about them like that? As far as I’m aware none of you even know them,” you sneer, earning belittling giggles from the three of them,
“I think we’ve seen enough to know what type of people they are, after all they hang out with little Potty and that Granger girl, it figures,”
“what figures,”
“That they clearly struggle to comprehend what wizards are worth spending time with, though who can blame them? with those parents I’m surprised they even know their ABC��s- OOF!”
You hadn’t realised your hand was flying upwards until it hit the girl’s face knocking her backwards a few steps while she cupped her nose, blood beginning to trickle out between her fingers, staring at you with a shocked expression for a few seconds before her friend shoved you, yelling something you couldn’t hear over the pulse banging on your eardrums, in your rage you didn’t hesitate to lash out after her friend who swiped quickly at you and hit you square on the cheekbone, though you managed to land a punch in her eye before you, too, were knocked backwards by a spell.
“MISS L/N!” Snape’s voice echoed across the grounds, Sprout and Flitwick at his heels, “what on earth do you think you’re doing?!” his voice boomed, making you wince as the pain from your cheekbone begins to register, “Your housemates displaying the worst of your houses wasn’t enough for us, was it? Thought we’d join in on the fun? Fifty points from Gryffindor and 20 from Slytherin for good measure! L/n you’re heading straight to professor McGonagall’s office! and you three go to the hospital wing at once!” Snape scolds as you pull yourself to your feet and begin walking towards McGonagall's office, dreading having to look your head of house in the eye. You’d felt sick with guilt when you’d had to explain being late to one of her lessons, the thought of having to explain why you were turning up with a bruised face after she’d already had to berate George and Harry made you want to hurl.
You were surprised to see that her office was empty except for professor Umbridge when McGonagall opened the door with a slightly surprised expression.
“Miss L/n, what on earth are you doing here?” she asked,
“Erh, professor Snape sent me,” you said sheepishly, her eyes landed on your cheekbone and her expression stiffened,
“Come in.” Umbridge's saccharine voice says behind her, “Mr Weasley and Mr Potter have just left, but I’m sure that we can fit in another detention, if you’ll leave us professor McGonagall, I’ll take it from here.”
***
“-So I’ll see you next Monday for your next of many detentions, miss L/n, other than that you’re free to go back to your common room now.” Umbridge says finally, taking the blood quill from you with the same revolting smile she always wears. You don’t know what to say so you resort to nodding and leaving without a word, carefully closing the door behind you and turning to go. You start when you’re met with the face of George, who’s sitting on the windowsill across the hallway, his lip swollen and bruised.
“George!” you say, holding a hand to your chest, “you scared the living hell out of me!” you exclaim as he stands up and crosses the hallway,
“Sorry, Y/n,” he says with a grin before his eyes travel to your cheek and soon after you feel his cold fingers touching your bruise gingerly while he eyes you with furrowed brows,
“You’re hurt,” he says in hushed tone so unlike his usual self that it makes your stomach churn, hating to see him this worried,
“you should see the other girls,” you attempt to joke earning a chuckle from George, “besides I can hardly feel it with my hand,” you lift up your hand, showing off the bright red letters etched into it,
I will not resort to violence.
“so it’s true then,” he says, his hand still on your cheek, his thumb gently brushing over the bruise, his eyes staring into your own, “that you beat up those Slytherins?” Now it’s you who’s chuckling, “You could say that, yeah,” you answer, “they deserved it though, they were talking about you, your family” suddenly, you find it hard to look George in the eye, you stare at your feet, the edges of your vision blurring with tears, you feel his hand tilt your head up by your chin,
“I- I don’t know what happened, George, I just heard them say those awful things about you and I just couldn’t take it, I just-”
His lips cut you off from your ramblings, his hands finding their way down to your waist, holding you gently as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss just a little, stepping closer to you, your own hands travel up to his neck, his hair, your fingers get lost in tufts of ginger hair. You can feel the bruise on his lip, and it implores you to kiss him as softly as possible, though you want nothing more than to continue deepening it, to make it last longer. He breaks away, resting his forehead on yours,
“Thank you, Y/n,” he breathes with a smile, “for standing up for me.” he leans in and pecks you on the lips,
“though, in fairness, I’d prefer if you refrain from violence from now on, I’d hate to see you get hurt.” he says, taking you by the hand and beginning to walk, you gently nudge him,
“And that’s coming from you,” you smirk,
“touché.”
#george weasley x reader#george weasley#Fred and George Weasley#harry potter#hp#the weasley twins#fred weasley
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i don’t wanna be alone
summary: college is filled with events that happen one right after the other. that being said, montana practically begs the reader to go to a party, and there, our dear reader finds herself in quite a predicament.
pairing: xavier x reader, platonic! montana x reader, platonic! montana x xavier
word count: 3.6k words
warnings: alcohol, drinking, slight ooc with the characters, reader is touched up by some guy while she’s drunk, please DO NOT read if you are uncomfortable with mentions of sexual assault and things like that. it is in this.
a/n: modern! college! au with select characters from ahs (mostly 1984 tbh). not me going off of a plot idea i created while driving home from work,,,, wouldn’t be the first time. characters include: xavier, chet, montana, mentions ray and brooke, also nodes to kyle spencer’s frat, kappa lambda gamma. also, would this be considered an innocent! reader? maybe just a female reader that really hasn’t done much of partying and drinking.
You sighed for what seemed to be the fifth time, your head pressing up against the library book you were searching for. You couldn’t find what you needed for your essay, and this had been the third book you had pulled off the shelf. You rubbed your eyes, flinching as someone nudges your arm. You furrowed your brows and quickly looked over, spotting Montana, your roommate who had yet to leave your side, and her pretty smile.
“Once you're done,” she said, “Xav and Chet wanna meet up by the cafe.”
You groaned softly and let your head fall back on your book. “What time is it?” you asked.
“Almost six. If we leave now, there might still be something good left.”
You knew she was right. As Montana started to get her things ready, you stood up and stuffed what you brought with you back into your backpack. You then grabbed a couple other books, taking them up to the counter and checking them out.
“Is that even what you needed?” Montana asked, popping her bubblegum as she came up beside you.
You just shrugged. You didn’t even know what you needed, but at this point, anything would have been better than nothing. When the librarian handed you back your student card, you stuffed it into your pocket and grabbed your books. Montana took a hold of your elbow and led you out of the library. The two of you trekked over to the building that held your cafeteria, noting that there weren’t actually a lot of people inside at the moment. It was odd. Six to seven were usually the busiest hours, but you weren’t about to complain.
Montana got in front of you, swiping her card to get her meal for the evening. She got your card out of your backpocket, after realizing it might be hard for you with all the books you had in your hands.
She handed the cook your card, and just as she was swiping it, a strong hand came down on your shoulder. You flinched, quickly looking back with wide eyes, only to see a grinning Xavier.
“If I would have dropped my books—”
“—you didn’t,” he said, sticking out his tongue in a teasing manner. He grinned at you, handing the cook his own card as Chet got his card ready. Montana stuffed yours back into your pocket.
“Wanna sit towards the windows?” Montana asked, grabbing a hold of your elbow again. You nodded, following close behind her.
Xavier came up right beside you, taking a couple of the books from you and sitting them down on the window seal. “What are these for? The fu—Nicomachean Ethics? What the hell is that?”
“It’s for my philosophy class,” you huffed softly, sitting your book bag down on your chair. “I don’t even know if I can use that.” Your eyes slightly widened as you looked over at Chet. “You’re in my philosophy! What are you doing for your essay?”
Chet blinked slowly at you for a moment before he spoke. “I haven’t started.”
You let your head fall back, closing your eyes.
Xavier poked your arm. “Come on. Let’s get food and then you can worry about that.”
You did as you were told, trudging up to the counters. You got your favorites, and then you also went to the drink counter and got your favorite drink. Before long, you were the first one to return to the table. You sat your things down and then you put your bookbag on the floor, replacing the bag in the chair with your body. You waited until your friends came back before you did anything else.
Xavier sat beside you, closest to the window, while Montana sat directly across from him and Chet sat directly across from you.
“Did you hear?” Montana excitedly began, sitting on the edge of her seat as her fork sunk into her salad. “Kappa’s having their Homecoming party this Saturday. It’s supposed to be the biggest one of the semester,” she spoke, looking over at you. She sent you a smile. “I would love it if you went with me, [Your name].”
“Uhhh, I dunno,” you shrugged, beginning to eat from your own plate. “I don’t really do parties.”
“We’re all going,” Chet said, leaning back in his seat as he picked up a carrot off of Montana’s plate. “Hell, even Ray and Brooke are going. You’d be the only one out of us not going. You’d really wanna be the odd one out?”
You rolled your eyes. “Do you really want me to go?” you looked over at Montana, exasperated.
It was almost as if you were the odd one out. Your little group of friends, save for you, all came to college, knowing each other one way or another. You just so happened to be Montana’s random roommate, and she slowly integrated you into their lives. They each thought you were awesome, but it still didn’t make you feel any less out of touch with them, at times.
Xavier leant over, his face close to yours. You turned to face him, flinching slightly at how close he was.
“What?” you asked, taking a piece of your food and shoving it at his mouth.
He ate whatever it was that you had given him, sitting back in his chair. “You should come. It’ll be fun. At least for a little bit,” he grinned. “I heard they’re gonna have Kappa juice,” he said, looking over at Montana, who’s eyes brightened at the mention.
“What’s that?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.
“It’s like. A bunch of alcohol. No, a shit ton of alcohol all mixed together. God, it’s supposed to get you hammered with one fucking cup,” Montana grinned.
“And you wanna do that?” you furrowed your eyebrows.
“Come on, [Your name],” she practically begged, launching herself over the table to take a hold of your hands. “We’ll have Xav get you something like Smirnoff, so you can still drink but you won’t have to have Kappa juice. How about that?”
You blinked slowly at Montana before you groaned. “Fine.” You looked over at Xavier, unable to stop your cheeks from burning. “Could you…?”
He smiled and nodded.
“I’ll pay you back,” you said, a relieved smile quickly forming on your lips. “But,” you looked over at Montana, narrowing your eyes. “I have to get this essay finished before Saturday. So nothing else crazy. Okay?”
Montana grinned and quickly nodded. “Got it.”
You finished up your food before everyone else and you grabbed your book bag, looking at Montana. “I’m gonna head back to the dorms. I’ll try to finish this essay,” you sighed. Picking up your plate and your cup, you looked at Chet. “Text me when you start yours?”
When he nodded, you took your leave, unaware of the silent victory party Montana was celebrating.
“This will be her first party,” she said, wiggling a finger in Xavier’s direction. “Don’t do anything stupid. And don’t let me see you hooking up with anyone while she’s there. I’ll personally end you.”
Xavier grinned. “Whatever.”
Montana rolled her eyes. “I’m serious, Xav. She really likes you, even though she won’t admit it. It’s probably the only reason she agreed to come,” she laughed, leaning back in her seat.
“Whatever,” he repeated, his smile only growing.
[]
Saturday came sooner than you had anticipated. Luckily, however, you had finished your essay just the day before, so you spent most of Saturday afternoon getting ready for this damn party.
Montana came out of the bathroom, her hair done up nice and her makeup as perfect as always. She looked over at you and grinned. “How do I look?”
You looked over at her and grinned. “Great.”
Montana laughed and went to grab her phone. “They have a frat house.”
“I know.”
“I meant, that’s where the party’s gonna be. You wanna walk or have Xav drive us?”
“I already owe him for the drinks. I’ll just walk.”
Montana pouted at you but she nodded. “Alright. I’ll wear comfy shoes then,” she sighed, grabbing her purse. “Are you ready?” she asked you.
You looked at yourself in the mirror and you gave a hesitant nod. “Yeah, I’m ready. Do I look okay?” you turned to face her.
You wanted to wipe that shit-eating grin off her face. “Xavier would think you’re cute—”
“—what! Could you stop saying shit like that!”
“It’s true, [Your name]!” she dramatically cried, grabbing onto your arms. “You’re wearing his favorite color. I should know.”
You sighed, remembering that the two of them did have a thing back in the day. You shook your head and grabbed onto your friend’s hand. “Can we go now?”
Montana smiled and led you out of your dorm.
[]
Just moments after you left the dorm, you found yourself in front of the frat house. It was already bustling with drunk students. People were making out, dancing to the loud music, playing beer pong, and quite literally drinking so much alcohol that it probably wasn’t good for their organs.
You stood close to Montana as she got a cup of whatever the hell Kappa juice was and you looked around. You spotted Xavier and Chet, who weaved their way through the crowd. Xavier smiled when he saw you, and you swore your heart skipped a beat.
Xavier extended the case of Smirnoff he bought for you, and you thanked him by giving him a quick hug. It felt like your heart had stopped at this point, and your cheeks burned red. But that quickly diminished when Xavier hugged you back with a laugh.
“You must be nervous!” he practically shouted over the loud music.
You smiled and just nodded, eyeing the Smirnoff.
Chet took one of them and opened it up for you, which you gladly took. You sat the rest of the case down by the couch, where you knew you would be staying for the rest of the night.
Montana came back over to you, grinning as she took a bite of fruit. “[Your name], I know I begged you to come out here, but I’m gonna do it again. Please, pleeease,” she came in front of you, holding out her cup. “Try this.”
You furrowed your eyebrows, grimacing at the smell of alcohol. “Uh, no thanks.”
“[Your name],” she pouted, staring you down. “You should like. Chug it or some shit.”
You purse your lips, knowing that Montana wasn’t going to stop. You took the red solo cup and braced yourself for the sting.
“You don’t have to drink it,” Xavier said, frowning over at Montana.
“Shhh,” Montana swatted his arm. You had only been there for a couple of minutes, but Montana must have already drank quite a few.
You ignored Xavier and downed the drink in a couple gulps, fighting back your watery eyes. You coughed after you finished the drink, shoving the cup back in Montana’s hand.
“Shit,” you breathed out, squeezing your eyes shut. Whatever was in that drink was potent, all in itself. You sat down on the couch, watching as Xavier walked off to get himself a drink.
Montana grinned at you. “Want another one?”
She had already grabbed two cups. Before you knew it, you were downing a second. And then a third. And then a fourth. Two of the Smirnoff bottles were empty, thanks to you. The rest had been taken by some other party-goers.
Montana took your hands, forcing you to your feet. The room began to spin and you held onto your roommate’s hands, stumbling slightly into her. Montana just laughed at you, leading you to God knows where.
Just a moment after she had forced you to walk into the kitchen, she left you standing there. Some guy had offered her another drink, and she took it. She was just as drunk as everyone around you.
You stood in the kitchen, your head resting against the cabinet. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to shake the fuzzy feeling that ran all through your body.
“[Your name]?”
You looked up, trying to figure out who said your name. You spotted Xavier there and you grinned.
“Xav…”
“Shit,” he frowned at you. “How much did you drink, sweetheart?” he asked, coming over to press a hand to your forehead. You were burning up.
“Hmmm,” you shrugged, not knowing the answer. “Why aren’t you drinking?” you grinned, taking a step forward. But that single step almost sent you tumbling to the floor—you were lucky that Xavier caught you.
“I’m tonight’s designated driver,” he rolled his eyes. “Come on. You look like shit, [Your name].”
“Shhh,” you swatted at his arm. “Don’t say that…”
He rolled his eyes, again, causing you to pout up at him.
“God, you’re gonna be so hungover,” he breathed out, taking a hold of your hands. He led you out to his van, getting you into the passenger seat. “I’m gonna get everyone else. We need to get you back to the dorm.”
“Wait, wait,” you quickly said, taking his hands. “What time is it?” you grinned. “It was just nine—”
“It’s almost three in the morning, [Your name],” he said, a dumbfounded expression crossing his features.
You blinked at him, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. You let him go, sitting back in the van’s seat.
It felt like Xavier had been gone for hours, but in reality, it had only been a couple of minutes. Leaving you alone probably wasn’t a good idea.
You got out of the van, slamming the door shut behind you. You leaned against it and breathed in the cool night air, closing your eyes.
You didn’t notice the frat boy that came up beside you.
He cleared his throat and you looked up at him. He gave you a kind smile.
“Hey,” he softly said, standing in front of you.
“Hi…”
Something about him made you uncomfortable, but you couldn’t quite place it.
The man came closer and he took a hold of your hand. “You look like you’re completely fucked,” he let out a laugh. “Maybe we should make that in more ways than one.”
You didn’t understand what he meant by that, and it still barely registered by the time he had slammed his lips against yours. One of his hands quickly took ahold of your wrists and he held them above your head. You weakly tugged, most of your basic abilities being dumbed down from the alcohol.
“Wait,” you began, a look of panic washing over you. “Wait, stop—”
He didn’t listen. He continued on, his other hand grabbing the edge of your shirt.
Tears began to form in your eyes and you began to say the only name that came to your clouded mind: “Xavier.”
He pulled back from your lips, rolling his eyes. “My name is John.”
You realized that this might help you. You repeated his name, again and again, to the point where John was getting pissed off. He slammed your shoulders against the van, your head hitting off the glass window just behind you. You gasped in pain, squeezing your eyes shut. But then, the weight that was once on top of you was gone. You didn’t dare open your eyes, afraid that the same person would be there, watching you.
The sound of flesh hitting flesh met your eyes, but you couldn’t make much of anything else out of it.
Someone came over to you and cupped your cheeks. You quickly opened your eyes, your hands pressing against the chest of whoever was holding you.
“Stop, stop,” you quickly said, your eyes wide until you recognized those baby blues. “Oh.. Oh, Xavier,” you began, unable to stop your tears. Xavier enveloped you into a tight hug.
“Come on… Let’s leave, okay?”
You quickly nodded and he helped you back into the passenger side, quickly buckling your seatbelt.
[]
The rest of that night went by in a blur to you. The only thing you remembered was waking up with Montana in the corner of the room talking to whoever the hell was in your dorm. You quickly pulled the covers off of you, trying to get out of the bed as quickly as possibly. Once your legs were untangled from the blankets, you took off to your bathroom, and practically fell right beside the porcelain bowl. Everything that you had eaten the night before and everything you had drank came up that morning.
“Gross,” Montana groaned from where she sat, looking over at Xavier and Chet. “She really got that drunk?”
“Some of us can hold our liquor, Tana,” Chet nudged her with his sock-clad foot. He sat at Montana’s desk, while Montana and Xavier sat on her twin-sized bed.
Montana rolled her eyes. “Next time, stop her,” she said, looking at Xavier. “You were the DD, right? Why didn’t you pay attention to her?”
Xavier looked at Montana in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right? I had to babysit how many last night?”
Montana blushed and she mumbled about something, grabbing her phone.
When Xavier heard you flush the toilet, he got down from Montana’s bed and grabbed one of your towels. He walked into the hallway that was connected to your bathroom and he hesitantly crouched down beside you.
“Hey,” he softly spoke.
Your head pounded, but Xavier didn’t hurt it as much as you thought he would have.
You looked up at the man, tears rolling down your cheeks. He reached forward with the towel and gently wiped them away.
“How you feelin’, sweetheart?” he asked.
“Like shit.”
“Fair,” he chuckled softly.
“How much did I drink..?”
“Hell if I know,” he admitted. Xavier dabbed the towel against your forehead, and around your mouth. “Brush your teeth and then sit it on the counter. You’re probably gonna get sick again, but after today, we’ll throw your toothbrush away.”
He went to stand, but you quickly grabbed his wrist, making him stay where he was.
“Thank you, Xav.”
He looked at you in confusion.
“For last night.”
Xavier just smiled at you. “Yeah… No problem, [Your name].”
He went to stand again, but you stopped him once more.
“I know I probably look so gross,” you winced at the thought of how you might look to him. “And you probably don’t wanna be around someone that smells like a bar. But please. Just. Stay.”
He watched you with soft eyes but nodded. He sat back down on the tile floor, staying with you for as long as he could that afternoon.
[]
You were mad at Montana, to say the least, but you knew you couldn’t hold it against her. She was drunk when she pressured you into drinking, and you fell for it. It was as much your fault as it was hers.
That next day, the Sunday before your philosophy essay was due, Montana had left to go out to eat with Chet. You had your dorm to yourself. And you were glad.
But you kept thinking back to Xavier.
He literally saved you—you remembered that much. And then, yesterday morning, he stayed with you, well into the later hours of the day. You couldn’t believe him, for a second, but at the same time, it only made your crush for him grow.
You laid back on your bed, staring up at the white ceiling. You didn’t know if you should tell him at this point. However, one thing was certain, there was a part of Xavier that had to care for you. Sure, you were pretty good friends, but pretty good friends stop at some point with how much they help you. At least, you were hoping.
You sighed and rolled over in your bed, picking up your phone. You had a couple of text messages from Xavier, and right as you clicked on one, there was a knock at your door.
You groaned and got up from your bed. Not even checking the peephole before you opened the door, you unlocked it and swung it open.
Xavier stood there, a sheepish grin on his face.
“You weren’t answering so I thought you were busy. Uh,” he cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his throat. “[Your name], I’ve been thinking. And maybe it’s because of what happened the other night. Seeing that guy touch you up made me so mad. I don’t—I don’t ever wanna see another guy touching you like that, [Your name].”
Your eyes widened a bit as you stared him down. “What?”
“[Your name], what I’m trying to say was, I’m sorry it took for a party and someone assaulting you for realizing that I should have asked you out sooner.”
Your cheeks burned once more, just like they did many times the past couple of days. You looked up at him, biting the inside of your cheek.
“You, uh, do you have plans today?” he asked.
You shook your head. He smiled.
“Let me take you out for lunch or something. You, uh, probably wanna get out of your dorm, yeah?”
You thought for a moment before nodding. “Yeah.”
Xavier smiled. “Just, uh… just tell me I’m not crazy for thinking you like me back?”
“You’re not crazy, Xav.”
He smiled even more.
“I’m sorry you had to see me drunk before you realized you liked me,” you couldn’t help but laugh.
He blushed, shaking his head. “Yeah. That was dumb of me. But, uh, now you know?”
You rolled your eyes. “Don’t even start. You sound like my philosophy professor.”
“What the hell—”
You just grinned, reaching into your closet to grab a coat. “Let’s go, then.”
Xavier wasn’t lying when he said that—he did hate that it took such a build up for him to confess to you. But at least he knew that you really did like him. And the fact that you agreed to go out to eat with him made him feel even better about the situation, even if you still had a dull headache and his knuckles were all scratched up.
#xavier plympton x reader#xavier x reader#xavier plympton#female reader#reader insert#ahs#ahs x reader#ahs 1984#ahs 1984 x reader#ahs au#ahs 1984 au#college au#college au reader insert#college au ahs#college#american horror story#american horror story 1984#american horror story au#au#alternate universe#montana duke#chet clancy#kyle spencer's frat#college parties au#reader#female reader insert
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@liglitterbug asked:
Has anyone asked for 53? (crawling through your window to go get ice cream) yet? Because that screams Harringrove to me and I would LOVE to see your take on it, please! (if you have time/inspiration) <3
a Friend for the End of the World.
Billy’s, like. Halfway through Little Women when Max knocks on his door, and. Okay. It’s not like he slammed his way through the house with a fire itching under his skin and believed for even a second, that.
The world could be his. Just for while.
He settles roughly, at first, into the Alcott novel. Like a brick hitting the bottom of the sea--slowly, heavy and thick with the inertia of words that ignite something that feels.
Pink.
Inside his belly. Billy doesn’t have the wherewithal to make sense of it so he, just. Clamps his eyebrows around the liquid sunshine in his veins and loses himself in the story.
After Starcourt the world ends, but.
It doesn’t sound like the poems said it would. The bang and the whimper and the conclusion that, after things catch on fire and smoke rises with the sun, silence will fall over the Earth.
Billy remembers waiting for Hawkins to sleep.
Watching Max and Mrs. Byers and. Steve. Landslide all around them to fix what had been swept away by a misjudgment in the Earth’s ability to keep itself from cracking open.
And Billy, he feels like an exposed wire. The center of the universe molding itself around the breath before the curtain falls and the audience leaves, and.
He waits for night to fall.
It never does. The overture is played out of tune, again and again, and the world turns faster than before, the sounds leak from everywhere. All at once, and.
Billy feels. Doesn’t know how to...
It’s never as simple as asking for silence. For peace. When his mind makes too much noise, or. When he can’t get the sound of Neil coughing up smoke to stop bouncing off the walls.
The ambiance that comes with. Sharing space, sharing your life with someone, used to be Billy’s favorite in all the world. Back when the incandescence of his mother folding laundry could be heard through the crack in his door while pirate ships bled past the boundary of the page and took him somewhere new.
Billy likes to think of his life as intermissions between lovers. Before Starcourt he was asleep and now. He’s never waking up again.
Max reading to El, or.
Susan making dinner.
Even Neil flipping through the channels, it. Reminds him of burning cities.
Billy wears earmuffs. Everywhere. The ones that block out the sounds of the earth crying, but. Do nothing at all for the reprise burying itself in his bones.
Steve brought them to the hospital when Billy wouldn’t stop asking about the end of the world.
So Max knocks on the door.
And Billy thought he made himself clear. With the nonverbal shit, like. Slamming the front door open and brushing past the dinner table and slamming his door shut.
Locking himself in. He thought it was crystal clear, that. You can’t keep shoveling dirt into the grave without stopping to pray for rain. She pounds on the door again but it’s too loud. Always too much.
“What, Max?” And his voice is softer, these days. To balance out the symphony playing all around him.
“Steve’s here.” She says, and.
The earmuffs don’t actually block anything out. Billy can hear the battery die in the car down the street, and. He can hear Max shuffling on the other side of the door one-two-three, one-two-one, like a waltz. A tiny dancer.
She has the most. Distinct footprints in the sand. Billy held onto that when he was bleeding on the floor.
He pads over to the door and tugs it open, wincing at the sharp sting of.
Soundsoundsound
Hammering against the walls in his head. Billy squints, shielding his eyes. To block the noise as if it were rain.
“Tell him I’m not home.”
“Your car’s in the driveway, dumb dumb.”
“Well, tell him I’m busy.” Billy moves to close the door, but. Max sticks her foot in the jam.
Folds her arms and gives him this look, like. He’s supposed to have a big realization about something. About the way he’s acting. Hiding in his room all the time with the blinds pulled taught against the sun.
You’re acting weird.
He knows. He thinks it’s okay.
Billy shrugs like. Spit it the fuck out. And Max rolls her eyes. Billy can hear the shift of muscle, he can--
“Too busy to see Steve?” She says.
And okay.
Billy picks up on why that might be weird. He shrugs again--there’s a throbbing, like. The beat of a drum. Just outside, on the lawn, or right at the back of his skull.
Billy can’t tell and he doesn’t want to know, so.
The door falls shut once more.
--
Being with Steve is like getting the instruments to play a song instead of just. Wailing out of tune for the audience to throw tomatoes.
He makes everything quiet. Just by running his fingers through Billy’s hair the world is made new. Starts over with a whimper instead of the rest, but.
Sometimes Billy can’t breathe.
Or his eyes will close when they’re wide open, and he can’t see anything but snow twirling against a gray sky, or like.
Veins turning black and smoky with rot. Disease and Ice. Barren fields the end--
Steve says the Earth has healed itself once more. That the cracks have been mended, and the ground isn’t coming apart under their feet.
So it’s summer.
That’s what Steve says. “It’s summer, baby.” let’s go to the lake.
Billy looks up from his book. Fifty pages left in Little Women--at least an entire afternoon, once he picks up the second, and. “You want to go to the lake?”
Steve sort of. Rolls onto his side, next to Billy on the quilt Mrs. Harrington made when he was in the hospital. He looks up to the sky, the clouds and the sun.
Steve has a daisy between his fingers. Billy doesn’t know where it came from, but then Steve is smiling. All soft, like. A stretch of grass just before sunset. He sticks the daisy between the pages of Billy’s book, and. Closes it., takes it away. He sits criss-cross-applesauce until his knees are pressed against Billy’s leg.
Steve tugs the headphones off, so.
The sun hits Billy. Burns every part of him.
“You seem like you need water.” Steve says.
And he is the only person who makes the Earth contract, So Billy tucks his hair behind his ears with shaky fingers. Keeps his hands there, holding his own face until things quiet down.
He breathes in, sharp and then slow, when the tears start to fall. When Steve reminds him to be gentle with yourself, baby. That’s it.
It takes five minutes for Billy to figure it out.
He needs water, like. A flower whose roots have gone frail. Or a boy who longs for home. Billy opens his eyes to Steve watching him, counting breaths on the watch he had made special.
For Billy, and his.
Bullshit. The panic attacks and the sensory bullshit, and. It’s summer. Billy feels the air get choked from his lungs when Steve takes his pulse, because.
“You go.” He whispers.
Steve looks up from the watch and then back down again. “You still have ten more breaths, come on.”
“I’m fine.”
“Ten more big ones, okay. Just to be safe.”
“Steve, I’m fine.” Billy smacks the watch down. Away, so. He can. Think. Billy scrubs at his face just the wrong side of too hard. Too abrasive, and there’s a drum beating somewhere down the hill when Steve tries to grab his wrist.
Again, to. Play nurse Maid. Steve kisses his palm once--twice, and.
“It’s summer.” Billy says.
Steve winks. “Yeah, it’s beautiful.”
It. Is, Billy thinks. With the smell of Lilac and Honeysuckle. Afternoons that give way to skies full of fireflies and Steve’s hair turning blonde in the afternoon light, it looks. Like a work art, like. A page from a book.
His favorite in all the world. Billy tugs his hand away from Steve’s lips, tucks his hair behind his ears again, and. Steve looks worried.
Always worried, like. He’s waiting Billy will snap in two.
“I want you to go to the lake.” He says. Because he’s tired of seeing that look.
Steve blinks wide, owlish eyes at him. “I want us to go, Bills, that’s why--”
Billy shakes his head. Suddenly the drum falls. Silent. Steve sits frozen, suspended in time and space while the symphonies play out of tune.
“You aren’t my doctor.” Billy says.
“I know--”
“And you aren’t my therapist.”
He expects Steve to. Say something, or stop looking like the ground is splitting open between them, when Billy charges on.
“Or my housekeeper, or any of that shit, Steve. You’re. A twenty year old boy, you should be. Out with your friends for the fourth of July not taking care of your invalid partner who can’t make it through the day without breaking down in tears.”
“I don’t want to be with anyone else.” Steve says, and.
It means now. And it means always.
Billy stands to grab his book.
--
He leaves his earmuffs on the blanket in the grass.
Thinks about calling and. Begging Steve to bring them over, drop them off because his head is spiraling rock formations and earthquakes let loose in the heartland.
After dinner it hurts.
When the fireworks start to explode. Bright light and heat burning a wound into his chest, or a breaking his bones to crumbling dust. Each explosion is like child birth and pulled teeth and gunshot wounds playing a libretto behind his right eyebrow. He tries to read but the snow falls all around him--
“Hey dipshit, we’re going to watch the--”
Billy doesn’t try to hide the tears, and.
Max doesn’t bring them up. She presses an ice pack to his forehead and wonders if. She should call Steve. Call him home.
Billy wants to say yes.
Wants to call Steve himself, but. “Go have fun, kid.”
And the wound only grows.
--
He has four pillows on his head when the window slides open. That’s why he doesn’t hear the scattered footfall until there’s a weight on his bed, and a pair of hands rubbing his back.
One hot, one cold.
He frowns. “Hands are cold as dick.”
Steve chuckles, fingers digging into the muscle of Billy’s neck in a way that has him soft. Huffing against the sheets. “Sorry, I brought Ice cream.”
Billy peeks out from under his fortress to Steve peppering kisses along the base of his skull.
“What time is it?” He grumbles.
“8:30. Go to sleep.” Steve muffles against Billy’s hair, and.
“How come you’re here?”
Steve holds out the earmuffs, cherub face scruffy and apologetic and so, so beautiful. “Sorry it took so long, I wanted to give you space, you seemed like. You needed space.”
He pulls the blanket up around Billy’s shoulders, even as he worms around to sit up. Get a better look, and. Apologize.
“Look, Stevie--”
“You shouldn’t be sitting with a migraine like that,” He says firmly. “Doc says three glasses of water, two Tylenol, and--”
“Rest, yeah, I.” Billy feels like smiling. For the first time in days, he. Wants to smile. “Thank you.”
Steve nods. Like he’s disappointed. Eyebrows wrinkling as he fiddles with the cracked leather headband.
Billy looks at the pint of cherry crunch leaking a puddle onto the mattress. “So you brought ice cream, huh?”
Steve shrugs. “Yeah, I mean. What else do you bring after a break up?”
And.
Billy feels like shit. “Steve I didn’t mean that--”
“I know.” He says. Soft, like a confession. “I’ll always dream of you, you know that?” Billy’s heart kicks into overdrive when Steve leans forward, slipping the earmuffs against his head, and.
Putting the world to sleep.
#harringrove#aah I wrote this in literally two hours#I love u sm cherr#Happy new year!#tw: sensory overload
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IDK You Yet
☞ songfic based off of the song IDK You Yet by Alexander 23 // 3.1k words
☼ slight angst, mentions of bullying, just wanting somebody to love (insert queen song here), tsukki being tsukki, akiteru being cute, freckles
☼ pairing : tsukishima kei x yamaguchi tadashi
☞ notes : sigh this song...yea // in this story, tsukki and yamaguchi weren’t childhood friends
this text = song lyrics
italics = flashbacks and inner thoughts
The sun cast a golden haze over the empty park in which Yamaguchi Tadashi sat. Gentle birdsong could be heard in the distance, a slight breeze swayed the branches of trees. A volleyball danced in between the boy's hands absentmindedly as he sat alone on a bench.
Today had been hard, just like any other day. The bullies he faced just seemed to never know when to stop; they continuously poked fun at him and made the poor boy feel like dirt. He had hoped that as he got older his tormentors would cease their attacks, but alas, his hopes never came true.
Yamaguchi had no one to call a friend. He tried to stay as translucent as possible as to not draw any attention to himself. It was the same routine for him every day; the only thing he found happiness in was volleyball.
You can see how that would be a problem, right? Loving a team sport when you have absolutely no friends? What a joke.
He sighed, stilling the movement of the ball between his hands. The sun was setting, the sky now a light pink and purple. 'I should start back home soon,' he thought, closing his eyes. Even though he knew the approaching darkness meant the temperature would drop and dinner would be ready soon, he didn't feel any urge to go home.
After all, there was no one there that understood him, or his pain for that matter.
He leaned his head back against the wooden bench, the lingering smell of cherry blossoms floating through the air.
'It would be so nice to have someone to enjoy this with,'
He couldn't help but imagine sitting in this park with the person he loved, sitting close as they watched the sun set.
How can you miss someone you've never met?
His lips curled upwards at the thought. Some would think that was cringeworthy, or too cookie-cutter; but that didn’t matter to him. Yamaguchi just needed someone to be there.
Because I need you now, but I don’t know you yet.
He had placed love on a pedestal for as long as he could remember. His mother and father’s relationship was nothing less than perfect-the love they had for each other practically radiated throughout any setting.
Seeing his two biggest role models share something so special like that made him want it too. No, not want. Need.
He needed the passion, the validation. He needed to be wanted by somebody. That’s all he could ever dream of. He didn’t care what gender, or if they were taller or shorter, bigger or smaller.
Yamaguchi just needed somebody to love him.
But can you find me soon because I’m in my head
When he opened his eyes, the first thing he was met with was the dark starry sky. He jumped, startled, and checked the time on his watch. ‘My parents are going to kill me!’ He thought, frantically gathering his things off of the bench.
He ran down the sidewalk, taking in heavy breaths as he passed by the homes on his street. Lights shone through curtains, shielding from prying eyes. The sidewalk was dimly lit with street lamps, the lone car passing by every so often.
Straightening out his jacket the best he could, Yamaguchi stepped into the door of his house. A lone light was on in the kitchen. He peered into the living room to find it empty, no noises to be heard. ‘They must have already went to bed,’ he thought, flicking the switch to turn off the light.
Yamaguchi padded up the stairs in sock feet, treading lightly as to not wake his parents. As he passed the door to their shared room, he noticed the door was slightly ajar. Peeking into the small crack, he could see the two cuddled up tightly in each others embrace as they slept. Sighing, he gently shut the door.
‘It would be amazing have someone to do that with’
Yea I need you now, but I don’t know you yet.
As he entered his room, he took a second to scan the blank walls of his room. Spaces where pictures of friends and teammates should be were instead replaced by the pale gray of wallpaper.
He sat down on his bed with a sigh, running his hands through his dark hair. It seemed as though loneliness was a routine for him by this point, just the same empty feeling day after day.
To say he was tired of it was an understatement.
But thats exactly what his tormentors said, right?
“You’re such a loner”
“No wonder no one likes you”
“You couldn’t even pay someone to be friends with you”
“You’ll always be alone.”
And lately its been hard
It seemed that no matter how hard Yamaguchi tried not to recall the words thrown at him, they still came crashing over him in waves, beating him down over and over until he felt like he couldn’t breathe.
They’re selling me for parts
“Please just stop, j-just-stop,” he whispered, voice strained as tears rolled down his cheeks. He dug his palms into his eyes to try and stop the waterfall of emotions, but like every time before, it didn’t work.
He didn’t want to go through this anymore. He really, really didn’t. He wished that he was strong; that he could stand up to those people and tell them that he wasn’t worthless.
And I don’t wanna be modern art
The only thing that kept him sane was the feeling in his heart that there was someone out there for him. There had to be. Someone that could mend his broken parts and dry his eyes when the world got too much. He hoped and wished and dreamed about finding his person
He just hoped that they were okay with being the other half of his wounded heart.
But I’ve only got half a heart, to give, to you.
He hoped that, for once, he would be enough for somebody.
~~~~~ Tsukki’s POV~~~~~
Tsukkishima walked down the bustling street, vendors selling various foods and treats filling the air with delightful smells. It wasn't really his scene, per se, but Akiteru had paid him to get some meat buns from his favorite store. There's no way he'd pass up money and free food.
As he rounded the corner, the familiar little shop his brother had sent him to numerous times came into view. He stepped inside, the warm air and lively chatter washing over him.
He swiveled his head side to side, noticing something strange. At almost every table sat a couple sharing a meal, girls giggling at their boyfriends as they shared conversation.
For the first time since he left the house he took notice of the bright pink and red hearts that decorated the walls and windows.
'Of course, it's Valentine's day. Disgusting.'
He rolled his eyes at his realization. Valentine's Day was just stupid. Why would anyone want to celebrate such an idiotic holiday? He managed to shove past a couple who was standing just a little too close for comfort mumbling a 'tch, you're in public' as he walked past.
Not looking back to see their reactions, he walked up to the counter and quickly ordered 4 meat buns- he knew his brother would want more than two and since it wasn't his money, he decided he'd get one for himself.
Tsukki didn't know if he was jinxed by the shop or what, but as soon as he walked outside all he saw were couples. Couples here, couples there, talking, laughing, hugging, kissing. He'd never admit it, but it made him feel just the tiniest bit lonely.
He had never been one for relationships and romantics- or even feelings at that. He had always despised Valentine's Day ever since he could remember. The girls in lower secondary school would give letters sealed with bright pink and red envelopes to the boys they liked. Tsukki himself had even received a few, but he always turned them down.
No one seemed to ever catch his eye, or grasp his attention. All the girls were plain, boring, and dull. Too energetic, too shy, talked too loud- the list could go on and on.
The door creaked open as he stepped into his house, and Akiteru yelled an 'in here!' from the living room. The latter was practically drooling at the plastic bag in Tsukki's hand, basically begging like a puppy for a treat.
"Here, you nuisance, I got three for you. The other one is mine, don't even think about eating it," he said, tossing the bag to Akiteru, who instantly started digging through it to get his food.
Tsukki sat down cross-legged on the opposite side of the table, opening the package on his meat bun. Suddenly Akiteru got a sly look on his face. "Oh, I forgot to mention that today was Valentines Day, sorry for sending you out in that."
Tsukki narrowed his eyes at his brother, knowing good and well that he didn't tell him on purpose. "Whatever, I'm keeping the change from our order as payment for sending me out in that mess."
Akiteru just laughed, shaking his head slightly. "C'mon Tsukki, do you really hate Valentine's Day that much?"
"Yes."
"Well, okay then," the elder grumbled, taking a bite out of his second meat bun. "But answer this, why do you hate it so much?"
Tsukki faltered for a moment. There were many reasons as to why he hated the holiday, such as the PDA, too much giggling, confessions, all of the god awful pink-
"Is it just because you never found someone you like?"
Tsukki's eyes widened. He had never thought about it. No- there was no way he was pissed because he had never met someone he had feelings for; and he for sure wasn't upset about it.
How can you miss someone you've never seen?
"Ah, hit the nail on the hammer, huh?" Akiteru said, his face showing signs of pity.
"Shutup, will you? I don't care about liking someone, or someone liking me, or being in a relationship, or-"
"Tsukki. You're rambling. You never ramble."
The blonde stopped in his tracks. Why was he rambling? He didn't care, so why did what his brother say have such an impact his mood? He let out a quiet 'tch', moving to get up from the table.
"Tsukki, wait."
The latter faltered from his place at the entrance of the door to his bedroom, waiting for his brother to speak.
"I don't like Valentine's Day all that much either. It makes me feel super lonely, and I get into this sad funk that I can't get out of. But, sometimes, I think about the person that'll love me someday. What they look like, what their personality is, all that; it helps a little. You should try it," Akiteru said, a soft smile on his face.
The blonde responded by opening his door, walking in, and shutting it behind him. Was his brother serious?! There was no way he'd entertain such silly ideas. He'd do what he always did: ignore everyone else and keep to himself. No thoughts, just his music.
After he changed into more comfortable clothes, he slipped his headphones on and laid on his bed, letting the sounds of his music flood into his ears. Without noticing, he started to think about all the couples he saw today at the market.
He remembered seeing a girl with blonde hair and brown eyes, much like himself.
'There's no way I'd be with someone who looked like me- wait, why am I even thinking about this-'
He scolded himself in his head, took his glasses off then proceeded to run a hand down his face. He continued listening to his music... that is until he started thinking again.
He tried everything, listening to god awful rock, cleaning his already clean room, he even tried working out in order to get his brother's words out of his head. No matter how hard he tried, his brother's smiling face saying those words seemed to pop up in his mind.
"Y'know what, fine. Fine! I'll do it!" He whisper-yelled, laying down on his bed yet again. Closing his eyes, he thought back again.
"I think about what they look like."
Okay fine, he could do that.
Tell me are your eyes brown, blue, or green?
Again, he couldn't imagine his...person...having the same light, amber eyes as him.
‘Blue? No, too bright...maybe brown? Hazel? Yea...hazel is nice...’
After he got past the eye color part, he came to a standstill. He didn't really care about hair as long as it wasn't blonde... but what else? Would they have a mole? Freckles? Would they wear glasses, like him?
Suddenly Tsukki brought a pillow to his face and hit himself with it. 'I can't believe I let something that my brother said affect me so much."
Nonetheless, he continued.
"I imagine what their personality is like"
This was tricky. 'They couldn't be too loud. Loud people get on my nerves. They couldn't be too quiet either, I can't stand when someone just looks at me and doesn't say anything.'
He thought a little bit harder. 'Maybe they'd like volleyball? That means Akiteru would love them. I wonder if they would like the same food as me...'
And do you like it with sugar and cream?
'Akiteru makes coffee sometimes, I wonder if they put a lot of stuff in it,' he shriveled up his face in disgust at the thought. He couldn't stand all that sugary stuff in his coffee, preferring the bitter taste instead.
Or do you take it straight, oh just like me?
'Okay, I'm done imagining things that won't happen. This was stupid anyways," he thought, sighing and turning over on his side. For some strange reason, he felt utterly exhausted. It's not like he did a lot of physical activity today, so why did he feel so...tired?
His brain decided to play the images of the couples again in his head, and he realized why he felt the way he did. This was the first time he had actually thought about having a "special someone."
The thought made him want to hit his head against the wall.
He never thought that imagining about the person he might be with one day would make him feel so lonely.
Cause lately it's been hard
For the first time, he noticed the utter and complete lack of important people in his life. Of course there was his brother, that was a given, but he had no one he had ever considered a friend. He never talked to one person for longer than he had to, and even ignored some.
He was completely shut off from the rest of the world...
And it was his own fault.
They're selling me for parts
'It's better this way. You know it is. No getting your hopes up, no disappointment, no keeping up an image. It's better this way. All you need is yourself, not anyone else.’
"But having someone there for me really wouldn't hurt... right?"
And I don't wanna be modern art,
His phone screen lit up with a notification. 'FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL' popped up on his screen, and the blonde groaned once he saw the time.
'Two in the morning? Great. I've wasted my sleep on nothing.’
But deep down, Tsukki knew it wasn't 'nothing'. He just made the pit of loneliness in his stomach larger and harder to ignore.
How could he even imagine the person he would love when he was so pathetic?
"You're so stupid Tsukishima Kei, so, so, so mind-numbingly STUPID!"
But I've only got half a heart, to give, to you.
~~~~~Both POV~~~~~~
Yamaguchi tugged the straps of his backpack tighter as he walked towards the staff room. Students shuffled in the halls, chatter and laughter filled the air. Of course, the green haired boy kept to himself. He had already dodged one of his bullies this morning, so he was on high alert.
As if the first day wasn't nerve racking enough, for some awful reason he decided he was going to join the volleyball club.
'This was such a stupid decision you should just turn around right now,' he thought to himself, slightly panicking as he saw the sign that said 'staff room' on the door in front of him.
He just stood there, staring, unmoving, at the door handle. His heart was racing in his chest, all the air seeming to exit his lungs.
"Oi, are you just gonna stand there?"
Yamaguchi jumped from the sudden voice that came from behind him. He jerked his head, meeting amber eyes behind black frames. He tripped on his words, becoming a blubbering mess, finally spitting out a 'Gomen!'
Tsukki raised a brow at the slightly shorter boy, wondering why he was just staring at the door.
"Tch, why were you just staring at the door like a weirdo?" Yamaguchi bowed his head in apology, contemplating whether to tell this complete stranger the truth, but he finally decided he would.
"Um, I was...uh...going to... to join the volleyball club," he stammered, not meeting the taller boy's eyes. He felt highly embarrassed for some reason, like him wanting to join was humorous. Honestly, he half expected the guy to laugh at him.
"Hm, I am too."
Tsukki moved past the green haired boy and opened the door, walking in a little ways before he realized the latter was still standing there.
"Oi, c'mon. Unless you're not actually going to join..."
Yamaguchi's ears perked up at that. He decided, that for once, he was going to do something he wanted.
"Gomen, I'm coming."
Even though it wasn't visible, Tsukki slightly smiled. He wasn't actually coming to the staff room to join the volleyball club, but when he heard that this boy was going to be joining, he decided that maybe he would.
The shorter boy suddenly turned around, hands flailing.
"Oh! I'm sorry for being rude, I'm Tadashi Yamaguchi!" he said, a bright smile presented onto his freckled face.
'Hm, freckles...'
"Tsukishima Kei."
And I hope it's enough.
#tsukkiyama#tsukishima x yamaguchi#yamaguchi tadashi#tsukishima kei#slight angst#songfic#idk you yet
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Alchemy Lullaby (12/?)
Of all the changes that came with living in the castle, becoming a father was not one he anticipated. When Eugene encounters a small child suffering like he did, he gives them the opportunity to grow up the way he never did… helping them both heal. (AU where Varian is 4 and gets adopted by Eugene)
Rapunzel, Eugene, Cassandra, and Quirin travel to Old Corona. There, they learn about the past, in more than one way. In which Quest for Varian is actually a quest about Varian.
Read the rest on AO3
hi! Uh. I took the week off cuz my cat died but now we're back on track. Quest for Varian rewrite time! This thing was a monster to hammer out, I kept rewriting scenes and dialogue and blah blah blah but IM HAPPY WITH IT!! A MAJOR thanks to @space-butterflies and @finnoky for helping me with this!
PLEASE if you enjoy this fic leave a comment and like!! It gives me the strength to keep going. And to not focus on my schoolwork haha im a grade below average rip
Maximus’ footsteps trotted one after another, a steady beat in time with Rapunzel’s anxious heart. Cassandra sat by her side, unflinching as ever, but the storm in her eyes said more than enough. So did the bouncing of Eugene’s leg. It was clear as day: they were all terrified.
“Old Corona is just over this hill,” Quirin muttered, slightly uncomfortable.
He’d hoped that his words would soothe his companions but it only seemed to irk them more. Rapunzel let out a sharp inhale, biting her lip. A war raged within her mind. She didn’t want Quirin to know the truth; a part of her wanted nothing more than to protect the small child she’d come to see as her own. But it wasn’t fair. He’d been so confused when the princess showed up with grim company.
She locked eyes with Eugene. He nodded, resolute yet anxious.
Gripping her dress, Rapunzel spoke up. “Quirin, I really appreciate you letting us come with… you should know that, the rocks, they’ve been… reacting. To me. And to a few other people.”
Quirin kept his face impassive but inwardly, he was letting out a massive sigh of relief. So it wasn’t just Varian, no, it was a few people! Thank goodness! He’d been hesitant to bring it up, to confirm that Varian had power over the rocks, but her words made it seem more like the rocks respond to strong emotions in general. And Varian was an emotional child, swinging from sweet to sour to sad. Of course the rocks would react to a child’s emotions, then. Thank goodness!
Never mind the fact that they never worked like that before.His previous theory was definitely wrong, there was no way Varian could have the moonstone! Even if he looked a lot like Ulla, with his big blue eyes and button nose, and he had her curiosity and penchant for mischief…
The princess’s eyes wandered, trying to find words. “I thought you should know that… stop the cart!” She cried. Max jolted to a stop, nearly sending Cassandra crashing into Eugene. Clear as day, across the path, a single spike protruded from the earth. The party stepped out of the wagon to approach.
“My dad told me all of the black rocks had been removed…” Rapunzel frowned. She went to brush a hand against it, but decided at the last second not to. There was no use in causing an explosion. All eyes turned to the knight, the apparent expert on the rocks.
Quirin fidgeted uncomfortably. “We may have… missed one?” Truth be told, this rock wasn’t there last time he visited. And that was last week! How had the situation changed so much in such a short time?
“Um…” Cassandra said, pointing to the village ahead. “Try one hundred.”
Old Corona was covered in rocks from head to toe. Nearly everywhere you looked, a rock took up some of your vision. Each house had at least one spike cutting clean through it, and the whole village seemed duller, sucked of life. Bleak as winter, a shadow loomed over everything and blanketed it in eternal night.
“Do you think your father lied?” Cassandra asked. Quirin sucked in a harsh breath.
“No!” Rapunzel stressed. Her voice wavered, clearly unsure. “I trust my father, but he probably doesn’t know how bad it’s gotten.” She took one step forward, then another. Dead grass crunched underfoot. “Come on,” she mumbled.
With each new rock Eugene’s anxiety only grew. All angles were dangerous, each reflected beam of sunlight was dimmed by the obsidian rocks it bounced off of. He could feel his sanity slip like sand, each rock corresponding to a grain in an hourglass. On instinct, he reached out. Rapunzel was his rock, and she was his. They’d get through this together, figure it out side by side. But just in case, he caged her braid inbetween them. Hopefully that would prevent any disasters.
“It’s the same story,” Quirin said sadly, brushing a hand across the rocks. His tattoo burned so hot he feared his glove would melt. “At first it’s just a few rocks… they’re a nuisance, but manageable. But then they keep growing, and growing, until the town is a maze,” he sighed.
“And then the King comes and cleans it all up, right…?” Cassandra dared to ask, speaking aloud what Rapunzel feared.
“...They’ve never been in Corona until now,” he managed. It would be his greatest challenge, sitting in the middle of two royals fighting. One, a King determined to keep his people from panic. Another, a princess who wanted answers.
He wasn’t sure if either person would be satisfied by today’s end.
“They didn’t show up in Corona until… I did.” Rapunzel muttered. “There’s no question now, these rocks… they hold a secret, and, and somehow- we’re connected to it...” Her eyes shook as she was lost in memory. The use of we was noticed by everyone; each member of the party glanced around to see if they’d made the connection, but no one spoke.
“And maybe we’re… even responsible for it.”
Eugene’s normally smiling and charming face filled with solemn grit. His voice deepened as he spoke. “What do we do now?”
“If I may,” Quirin cleared his throat and stepped forward. “I have an… old friend who researched the rocks a while ago. I entrusted her with a graphtyc that may have some answers.”
Princess and boyfriend locked eyes. That could only be one person...
“I’m sorry Eugene, I know you don’t want to be here. But we need to find that graphtyc, so that’s what we’re gonna do.” Rapunzel said.
At first the ex-thief was silent, and his face impassive. But slowly, it broke into the faintest of smiles as he grasped her hand. Their foreheads touched together briefly, and Rapunzel melted into his warmth. Their fight from the other night was still fresh in her mind, seeing as it was the only real fight they’ve ever had. Neither of them had been particularly wrong, but they both knew it was time to put personal discomfort aside.
For Varian.
For their son.
Quirin and Cassandra stood to the side. When a figure rushed by, they both turned, catching nothing but the wind left in its wake.
-
The walk to the house was quiet and tense. Each wrong step caused Rapunzel’s hair to light up like a beacon, and everyone would flinch in preparation of an explosion. Thankfully, nothing happened, and they eventually reached the manor. Out of all the houses, this one was in the worst shape. Every window had a cluster of spikes protruding from indoors. A piece of roof cracked and fell to their feet. One thing was clear: the house was on its last legs, wheezing for breath.
Eugene’s feet felt stuck to the ground, unable to take another step further. Behind this door was, supposedly, Varian’s mother. She and Gothel tied for his least favorite people in the world, but he couldn’t help but also feel grateful. Oh how he wished Varian had a loving mother, but because he didn’t, it allowed them to meet, it allowed for Eugene to grow and love.
Quirin knocked steadily. He took one deep breath, then another.
The door crept open. Its hinges screamed and rang through the air.
And there she was.
The best and worst thing of their lives.
“Ulla,” Quirin breathed, eyes softening. Her hair was askew, like it had been thrown up. Wild eyes scanned him up and down, before relaxing ever so slightly.
“Were you followed?” She hissed. That earned a nervous glance between party members. Cassandra glanced back; now that she thought about it, she hadn’t even seen any villagers…
“It’s just us,” Quirin replied. “Listen, we need the graphtyc, you said you’d translate it, remember?”
“Oh I remember,” she drawled. Unimpressed eyes scanned the group. Distantly she recognized the princess, her hair was unmistakable, but then, her eyes widened. “You-!”
Eugene’s eyes flashed. If it wasn’t for the fact that they needed her help, he’d punch her square in the face. “Yea, not thrilled to see you either, can you help us or not?”
The mood shifted instantly from uneasy to flat out hostile. Teal eyes glared through him as she searched for a fifth person who wasn’t there. And probably would never be there again.
How unfortunate. After he left it’d been so calm… for a while, anyway. Their time apart gave her space to think up some new theories and tests, too bad they’ll never be utilized. Finally, she stepped aside to let everyone in.
A shadow loomed over the wood.
Ulla turned her nose up as they entered her lab. It was cluttered with notes collecting dust and farm tools. “I will help Quirin, but not the rest of you.”
“Yeah, you’ve helped us enough.” Eugene’s words were biting, barely contained fury clear as day. It was only Rapunzel’s hand on his chest that kept him from springing forward and tearing her to pieces.
Out of them, Quirin seemed to be the only one happy to see her. “Thank you, Ulla.”
She gave him the faintest of smiles, before her face turned impassive again. “I’ll take Quirin to get the graphtyc. Don’t touch anything… please.” The last word was tacked on solely because Rapunzel was there. The two elders vanished up rickety stairs.
“So… this is Varian’s old home?” Cassandra’s eyes flicked to and fro. Dust laid claim to every surface. “Seems… about what I expected.”
To her left, Eugene hummed in agreement as he trailed a finger across the table. His eyes trailed over a few of her notes. Most of them were mundane, farm reports or apple science. “You know someone should sit this lady down and have a frank discussion about the importance of having an organized, clutter-free workspace.” Well, a frank discussion about a lot of things. But that’s a good place to start. A nice, simple conversation not about Varian that wouldn’t end in a screaming match and/or murder.
But murder was still on the table.
Especially when Rapunzel, curious, foolish Rapunzel, couldn’t help herself. In the far corner, covered in dust, sat what looked like an invention covered by a tarp. Hesitantly, with bare feet tapping against stone, the dust irritating her nose and the smell of it thick in the air, she unveiled the invention.
A chair, with shackles.
Tiny, child-sized shackles.
She let out an agonized cry and stumbled back into Eugene’s arms. It was like a hole had been punched in her chest. So this is what Varian meant when he said no more…
“We shouldn’t have come here. We should’ve stayed in the castle where we were a happy family.” She whispered, clutching tight to Eugene’s vest.
“Come on, Raps, you don’t mean that,” Cassandra soothed. She sent Eugene a helpless glance. Regardless of how the chair was used, the implications were agonizing.
As much as Eugene wanted the satisfaction that he was right, that she was agreeing with him, he knew deep down that it wasn’t true.
“Sunshine,” he mumbled. “I know what I said before about forgetting all this, and never speaking to… her, but this,” his eyes drifted to the window, from which a massive rock extended. “Is way, way worse than I or anyone else imagined, and one thing has become clear.” He brushes a strand of hair from her face. “People are in danger. A lot of danger. Not just from the rocks. And the Rapunzel I know was never one to run and hide from a fight.”
No sooner had those words been spoken, the door burst open.
-
“Is there a reason you wanted to speak to just me?” Quirin asked as soon as they walked up the stairs. “It’s rude to leave her highness alone.”
Ulla scoffed. “She’s not alone, she's with the thief.” Her words were sharp as the rocks she studied.
Thief? Well sure, he used to be, but most people looked past that by now. He’d seen firsthand how Eugene went from a castle annoyance to maids crowding him with gossip and parenting advice.
“You mean how he was Flynn Rider? I can assure you, he’s a very nice young man-”
“A nice young man who is harboring a disappointment!”
The silence rang like a funeral bell. Quirin’s face dropped to neutral. God did Ulla hate when he did that; he was impossible to read. Finally, he spoke. “So it’s true. He’s yours, isn’t he? He’s… he’s the moonstone.” It was finality, the sealing of a child’s coffin. It also earned him a frustrated eye roll.
Ulla turned to her bookshelf. Let’s see… which book is it again…? “He’s not the moonstone, he’s the moondrop. Crucial difference.”
“That being…?”
“You can’t manipulate or control it the way you can the moonstone.” Quirin couldn’t help but flinch at her word choice. “The translated incantations will only work if he says them. Which renders him useless to me.”
More like useless to her plans, Quirin thought dryly. “So you abandoned him.”
“He’s an experiment gone wrong. Nothing to do but scrap it and start over.” She smirked at how the man paled at those words. Finally, her fingers brushed across the book. She opened it to reveal a shining scroll case. It felt bittersweet to see so many hours of work be handed over to Quirin, but what can you do? They spent a whole year together, collecting the pieces of the scroll for translation, trying to solve the mystery and destroy the moonstone. Only fair that he gets to see their hard work completed.
Quirin’s hand brushed against the graphtyc… but then froze. Wait. That didn’t make any sense. “Ulla... he can control the rocks…”
“What?” It was like a bullet had gone off, Ulla’s ears were ringing that loud. That… that little brat! How long could he control his magic? Did he send these recent rocks to her… to mock her? Did he just enjoy causing her misery!?
She schooled her face back to impassive, though the cogs in her brain were already off to the races. New theories, new experiments, if she only had a little more time with him…!
Teal eyes batted up at Quirin, who stood awkwardly under her intense gaze.
She opened her mouth.
-
From the splintered doorway, a large man stepped forward. His face was hidden behind a masked helmet, a black cloak trailing his red coat. He held out a gloved hand. “Hand over the graphtyc.”
Eugene growled, stepping in front of Rapunzel and shielding her. “Who is that?”
“Doesn’t matter, I got him!” Cassandra cried. She charged at the man, skidding under his legs up and around him. She grabbed his staff and pinned it against his neck. The man huffed, grunting against her weight, before throwing himself forward and sending Cassandra flying. She landed on the table with a thud, sending notes and chemicals every which way. One chemical turned to goo the moment it hit the floor, trapping papers underneath.
Aha!
Rapunzel grabbed a spare of it, and with all her might threw it at the attacker. In a flash of pink smoke the man’s legs were trapped in place.
“Go go go!” Eugene cried, grabbing Cassandra off the floor.
“What about Quirin!?”
“No time! He’ll just have to catch up!”
The door to the house flew open with a bang, nearly shattering as they ran past. Each rock lit up a vibrant blue the same color as Varian’s hairstripe whenever Rapunzel ran past.
“I don’t know how long we’ll have before that guy breaks out, but-” Rapunzel’s voice was cut off, gasping as a masked man stood on the other side of the rocks. How…?
“Clearly not long!” Eugene cries, and they turn, only to come face to face with the same mask. “How fast is this guy?” Finally, they break out of the rocks, outside the village. With huffing breaths, the party came face to face with several identically dressed men; the masks crowd them, filling their very bones with dread. “Oh, that explains it.”
“Hand over the graphtyc,” the chant is repeated over and over, each man taking a turn to say it. Never mind the fact that they didn’t even have the damn thing because Ulla wanted to speak to Quirin about god knows what.
Not a moment later than the thought had come and gone, Quirin manifested from behind the Princess. His large, hulking form easily towered over the men, and it took only a few punches for each masked man to topple.
A neigh bounced around the clearing, its sound ricocheting off rocks, and Max galloped in carrying a frying pan in his mouth. Combined, the two defeated the small battalion in under a minute, before the young adults even had to lift a finger.
“Sorry,” Quirin whispered to one of the guards before knocking him to the ground.
“Max! Quirin! Oh you couldn’t have come a second sooner!” Rapunzel gasped as she and the others ran over. It was a tight fit to get them all on Max, but he was a big horse, and Rapunzel could sit on Eugene’s lap if needed.
“Do you have it?” The princess’s eyes lit up when Quirin produced a small trinket. “These guys want whatever that is pretty badly,” it was an odd game of telephone as Quirin handed it down Max and to Rapunzel. “And something tells me we won’t make it back to the castle.”
Quirin opened his mouth to argue, but Eugene cut him off. “She’s right! We need somewhere to hide and come up with a plan.”
“No, I don’t think we really need to-”
“I know just the place!” Rapunzel spurred Max faster as Quirin sighed in defeat.
-
It wasn’t a far ride, just a trip down a cliff and then some, but soon enough they were at a small alcove covered in vines.
“Man, this is terrible.” Eugene muttered to himself.
“I know,” Cassandra sighed. “Those men are following us.”
“No, I was talking about my vest. But yeah, that’s bad too. Rapunzel, are you sure this place is safe?”
She snorted. Safe? Hidden? This place was the most hidden spot in all of Corona for 18 years. “I’m surprised you don’t recognize this place!” With a flourish, the vines peeled back, and she faltered. “Actually… I’m not sure I recognize it either.”
Her tower. The place she once called home. Now surrounded by spikes.
Night falls, and with it comes a moment of reprieve. Eugene gladly gave Max a tour of the tower; well, as much of a tour as he could. “And this is where I died!” He said, proudly pointing to a spot of blood on the floor.
With a jolt, Rapunzel recalled an incident from the other day. Eugene had told Varian a watered down story of how they met, and where Rapunzel’s hair came from. The toddler had been so upset to hear that Rapunzel had been locked away for so long… was his anguish subconsciously causing rocks to appear in places he’d never been?
The other three humans sat together, fidgeting with the graphtyc. “It sounds like there’s something inside…?” Rapunzel held it up to Cassandra’s ear. They both glanced over to Quirin, who opened it with a crack. Inside sat an unassuming piece of paper. Or rather, it was unassuming until he pulled it out.
The scroll was torn in half, with only two columns visible; one had a sun dripping down onto a flower, the other, a moon onto rocks. Strange characters covered the columns, with fresh pencil markings scribbling all around them.
But before Quirin could explain, Eugene cried out from where he stood at the window. “Guys… we have a problem. Or rather, many problems. Masked problems.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding!” Rapunzel gasped. “How on earth did they find us!?” A fire lit in her eyes, the likes of which her father had tried to smother earlier in the week. “These guys just ticked off the wrong princess. I came here for answers, for a solution, and by god we are going to get it!”
Quirin rubbed his shoulder, trying to hide his flinch at the word solution. “What will you do, your highness?”
She didn’t respond at first. Instead, she stalked forward, letting her braid fall loose. “I’m letting down my hair.” The intensity of her voice took them all off guard; Eugene hadn’t heard her that angry in a long time, not even during their fight.
It was the righteous anger of a protective mother.
Her hair brushed against a spike, causing it to glow brighter and brighter, even more than the stars in the sky, then the moon, and even the sun. A shockwave sent the masked men flying away, their backs hitting cliff walls. Quirin had to grip onto the tower windowsill in order to stay upright; Cassandra and Eugene weren’t as lucky and were thrown backwards.
Then, as fast as it started, it stopped. All was quiet, all was still.
Elsewhere, a small child fell to the ground as a blinding headache racked his skull. He shrieked, startling his babysitters.
A new rock sprouted. Then another. Black obsidian punctured the tower. Before they could even try to escape the rocks grew up through the stairwell leading outside.
“Up there!” Cassandra cried, pointing to the skylight. “That’s the only way out!”
With one massive throw, Rapunzel formed a rope for everyone to climb, onto the roof and into the night.
“I don’t understand… I thought you said this was dealt with?” Rapunzel bemoaned to Quirin. He winced. On the one hand, he never said anything, her father did. On the other hand…
“It wasn’t like this when I visited last. There were a few rocks, but-”
“Hang on, you lied to us? You were lying this whole time!?” Cassandra butt in, eyebrow raised. She wasn’t nearly as matronly as Rapunzel, if she had it her way Varian would’ve been shipped off to an orphanage, but she was still fond of the little tyke, and she sure as hell didn’t want him blamed for this mess.
“Well, yes, but-”
“And what happens when the village is overrun? You never finished that story from earlier!” Eugene added. “Is this it? It chases everyone out?”
“Can we maybe discuss this on land!?” The man cried. There were more important things, like not getting impaled as the tower roof collapsed!
Blue glow now shone in tandem with the yellow of Rapunzel’s hair. She frowned, weighing her options. “Guys, there’s only one way down. I think I have a way out, but it’s a little crazy, so you’re just gonna have to trust me!”
Eugene flinched, grabbing her hand anxiously. He had no idea if he could trust her, even though he loved her dearly. He needed to live, now more than ever! He needed to keep his son safe! If these men were after them just for the graphtyc, imagine if they found out about Varian!
The tower buckled, sending them all into a heap. Never mind, not the time to debate! “Uh sure, let’s go for it. I’m up for anything at this point.”
With that, in tandem, they all lept off the tower as a glowing sphere that rivalled the sun engulfed them, a sea of gold soft as a pillow yet strong as a diamond.
The ground was soft at their feet.
“Are we all seeing this? Is that new!?” Cassandra laughed, ecstatic that they survived. But Rapunzel paid her no heed. She could only watch as her first home crumbled and shattered before her eyes. Dust flew in every direction. A deep, wicked part of her wanted to run home and yell at Varian, blame him for her loss. But she couldn’t. He was a child, and she’d be no better than Ulla.
Besides, he and Eugene were her home now.
That didn’t stop her from shedding a tear, though.
Eugene placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you ok?” She shook her head, and wrapped him up in an embrace. “I will be.”
“Uh guys?” Cassandra said. “Look.”
From the wreckage, the masked men slowly shook themselves out. Only, they were not masked anymore. One man’s helmet laid shattered beyond use as he slowly lifted his head up.
Cassandra’s eyes widened. “Pete?” she gasped. A quick glance around showed that all of them, slowly standing up, were members of the guard.
“Princess, forgive us…” Pete said. “We had orders to recover the scroll before you.”
Her eyes narrowed into slits. “From who?”
The man hesitated. Then slowly, a shaking finger pointed behind her… to Quirin.
-
“Quirin,” Ulla said. “You know we weren’t able to recover half of the incantations. The one to control the rocks is still lost.”
“Because Adira still won’t tell me where it is, yes,” He grumbled. She had never been a fan of his methods, and now he could see why.
“But we can still control them, stop them… as a family.” His eyes shot up to Ulla’s smile. She seemed nearly peaceful, if he didn’t know her true nature.
“A family…?”
Her laugh was that of a funeral gong. “Be reasonable Quirin. Who do you think Varian’s father is?”
#varian#tangled the series#tangled#tts#tts varian#tts eugene#tangled eugene#eugene fitzherbert#team awesome#new dream
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‘Roswell, New Mexico’ Star MichaeI VIamis Teases MaIex Jealousy, 1940s Flashbacks
The CW’s “Roswell, New Mexico” Season 2 is giving Michael Guerin plenty of drama. In the first two episodes, the character has grieved the loss of his brother, tried to make amends with Maria, learned new information about his alien mother and he’s already been arrested once. Actor Michael Vlamis told International Business Times that there’s plenty more to come.
The Chicago native talked to IBT last week in a phone interview while he was social distancing in Los Angeles, and he opened up about Michael’s anger, jealousy and longing. Plus, of course, he teased more tension for Michael and Alex (Tyler Blackburn), AKA Malex, as Michael tries to move on with Maria and Alex gets a new love interest.
IBT: What’s your favorite aspect of Michael's storyline this year?
Vlamis: My favorite aspect is probably also my least favorite aspect, which is the feeling of losing a brother because that is also such a difficult thing. There's losing a relationship, and then there's losing a family member. Fortunately, aside from grandparents, I haven't had to deal with losing a direct family member, but I have lost a very close friend. That actually happened right before the season started, which was, it was a crazy experience. I don't want to get into it. It's way too dark.
But that person that I lost, my buddy, was such a proponent of my career and me as an actor. Back in the day, he was always so excited for me to take a chance and come out to LA and do this thing, and so I felt like this responsibility, I kind of channeled that guy on set during this season while reeling from the loss of my brother. It was a very beautiful and cathartic thing, but it was also a very tough thing because consistently I'm putting myself in this headspace of what I felt like at the time when he was gone.... If that dude was going to go down, he would want to go down with a purpose, and I just try to take some of him and put it into my work.
I think he's pissed off because he feels like he has to step up now, and he has to now all of a sudden be the protector. He has to be the savior. In a lot of ways, he is a protector, but he never thinks of himself as that. He just does what he has to do, and now the fact that Max has gone--because he played the hero card, because he played the savior card, which is a big reason we're in this whole mess, he's always kind of done that--he kind of feels responsible that he needs to be the one to look after Isobel.
I think that's why he shows up to the funeral. I don't think he wants to be there. I think he wants to be drinking away all of his sorrows, and that's why he shows up not dressed and filthy and hammered and he's got a bottle with him. Deep down, he knows what he has to do, but he hates the fact that he has to do it.
IBT: Michael is also learning about his real family and his mom. At the end of the last episode, we see him become suddenly more determined to learn about his mom. Can you tease a little bit of where that journey's going to take him?
Vlamis: I think he was always very interested in learning about his mother, and then when she passed at the end of Season 1, he gave up. Now that this new information's coming, it's pissing him off because he's been drinking, wallowing in his sorrows, playing this victim card, wanting this whole thing to be over on the outside. Like just, "Okay, maybe there is no purpose, and that's it. Screw it. I don't have a family. I don't have anything. I'm kind of this lost soul."
But this new information comes up, and just when he's deciding to give up on it, deep down, he's still that kid who's longing for his family, who bounced around from foster home to foster home. He wants to find out his roots, and he does this season. He really finds out a lot about his mother and where she came from and did she spend any time when she landed in Roswell, or was she taken as a prisoner immediately?
This is all information that gets explained as the season goes on, and they do it in a really cool way. They use the flashback device to go back to the late 1940s and early 1950s and see what Roswell was like back in the day during that time, and that's all through the information that he's finding. It's a really cool journey for the character, but also for the show because we get to see all these old pieces.
IBT: Of course, I have to talk to you about Michael's many romances.
Vlamis: Of course. Of course, you do.
IBT: I was re-watching the end of the last episode earlier today, and Michael really says, "I want to be with Maria," to Alex very kind of abruptly. Why is he so anxious to tell him that he likes Maria?
Vlamis: I think because he wants to be left alone right now. When it comes to Alex, I think that there's too much pain, too much trauma between the two of them, too many reminders of a darker time that he needs to let go, and whether he wants to say that--Maybe it came out so abruptly because maybe he doesn't know what he wants exactly, but he knows that he deserves to be happy, and maybe he wants to actually be happy for once.
Does he want to push Alex away? Probably not. I mean, they have a kind of love that's unexplainable. It's been around forever, and there's so much history. That's always a tough thing. But unless you lay a hammer down, you're never going to go explore these other possibilities and maybe a life that you actually deserve and that is better for you.
I think that's probably why I said it so abruptly just because it just needed to be said, and such a hard thing to say. And I could play this yo-yo effect forever and go back and forth with the two characters. Or I could take a shot, which is even harder to do, to say no to someone and say yes to another. I think that's what he's doing right there.
IBT: Last time we talked was at New York Comic Con, and you said that there's definitely sexual tension between the guys, but they're going to try to be friends. Are they going to struggle with being friends? Being friends with your ex is not the easiest.
Vlamis: No, I've never been friends with one of my exes. I don't know how that works, so I kind of take in a lot of my life experience into the character. I always try to do that. I will say that it's very rocky at first, but with that being said, he's the one guy who's really helping me uncover this truth about my mother, so whether there's animosity towards one another or not, we are stuck together. There are so many more Malex scenes this season, maybe even more than last year.
It's just a different dynamic. But that's something that we really enjoy to play too. We enjoy that sexual tension because no matter what happens, they have a deep love for one another, so whatever the lines are, there's going to be that, "What if that worked out, What if?" Whether that's good for him or not, whether he wants that or not, you always kind of wonder that.
IBT: I know that Alex has also getting a new love interest this season. Will we see any jealousy in Michael?
Vlamis: Yes. Screw that guy. Hate that guy. [laughs] Oh, man. I actually love that actor, Christian [Antidormi]'s the man, but there is a lot of... Yes. You will see a lot of jealousy from Michael Guerin--even though he shouldn't be jealous because he's in a different relationship. But we all act actually have some scenes together too coming up, the three of us, which is really fun. Yes, you get to see the subtext of Guerin not being too happy about this new guy in the world of Roswell.
IBT: You have been playing Michael for two seasons now, and I believe you guys are renewed for a third, right?
Vlamis: We are. Yes. We just got word that we might go back a little later to Santa Fe to shoot, but they're just being safe right now and kind of … trying to figure it out, but it seems like, yes, we 100% have a Season 3, and it'll be shot sometime this year.
IBT: You get to actually think about this character's future and know that your character does have a future. So what do you really want to see Michael do?
Vlamis: Man, if I answered this, honestly, I'd probably give away spoilers, so I have to be careful in how I answer this, but I would want him to find peace within himself and knowing that he's enough and that there are people that love him and care about him in the way that he's always longed for, which his family, whether him and the aliens are actually related not or whether they were separated from different homes growing up.
I think I really want him to realize that none of that matters and he has a family, which is something that he's back and forth on. He struggled a lot. He knows that they-- The Pod Squad, what everyone calls us. Yeah, I love that actually--But he knows that they're there for him. But deep, deep, deep down, they weren't in the house every day.
He didn't wake up and eat a cereal with those siblings and everything just went about. No, he was getting beat up, and he would sneak out to the Foster Ranch and wonder about where he's supposed to be. I would like him to find a little bit more peace with himself. At the same time, I'm a little conflicted because I love being in a jail cell as the character. I love being dirty. I love fighting. I love the drama. I don't know which way they're going to take me, but I'm going to be happy with either.
~ ibtimes
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Serotonin | Laszlo Kreizler One-Shot
Dr. Kreizler is the only person I'll open up to, and I think the other Alienists are annoyed by that. But... he's the only person that makes me feel comfortable. Not that the others are scary or anything, it's just... Kreizler is different. And maybe... just maybe I have a crush on him. 'Of course you have a crush on him, y/n. He's the only person who has ever shown you kindness.' I thought inside of my head. Dr. Kreizler is patient, caring, kind, and so... so gentle. Every time I see him my heart skips a few beats and butterflies flutter in my stomach.
I always get lost in his beautiful brown eyes. They're so big and deep that it's easy to get lost in them. His voice is so pleasant to listen to as well. To me he just... feels like home. But I know the way I feel is stupid; I'm just one of his cases. Another mind for him to study and examine in the attempt to understand the human brain. A knock on my dormitory door took me out of my thoughts. That's when I noticed I was absent mindedly sketching a picture of the doctor. "Who is it?" I asked curiously. "Dr. Kreizler." His familiar deep, yet soft voice said from the hallway.
I sat my sketchbook aside after closing it, and walked over to open the door for him. He was standing there in his usual black suit looking exceptionally handsome. But maybe I found him extra pretty today, because I haven't seen him in a while. Apparently he had some private matters to deal with. "I think you an I need to talk about your behavior over the past few weeks." He said, and anxiety filled my already quivering stomach. I knew I what he was referring to; he wanted to talk about how uncooperative I've been with the other Alienists while he was away. I desperately hoped he wasn't angry with me.
"Come with me, we'll take a walk so we're far from prying ears." He said with one of his small smiles that quickly faded. I nodded once and closed my dormitory door behind me. I don't think I ever felt this nervous in my entire life if I'm being honest. I silently followed him downstairs and out through the main doors of the institute. Both of us remained quiet until we reached the nearby park. The September sun was shinning bright in the blue sky above us. Its rays were just powerful enough to warm your bones. "You probably already know what I want to talk to you about." He said, breaking the soothing silence that was enveloping us.
"Yes, I do. I... I'm sorry for giving your colleagues such a hard time. It's just... I only feel comfortable when I'm with you." I said, and I felt like a child for saying it. "My colleagues aren't going to hurt you, y/n. They might have differing methods, but they're all designed to help you." He said with a soft look in his eyes that made me feel guilty. I didn't want his fellow Alienists to feel like they weren't doing their job correctly; I never meant for them to feel that way. "I'm sorry." Was all I could say. "It's alright, y/n. You feel safer with opening up to me than you do with the others. I understand." He replied. He took me to a small pond where we watched some ducks swim around. It was very peaceful.
I was a little upset when he said we had to go back to the institute. I felt content with being by his side in the peaceful park watching the ducks. But I knew he had work to get finished, and we couldn't do what my heart desired. When we reached the floor my dormitory was on I was suddenly aware of children's laughter. "There she is!" One of them giggled in an amused tone. "Y/n loves Dr. Kreizler." The group repeatedly teased, and I felt myself heat up with embarrassment. I'm sure I looked as red as the roses I saw in the park today. 'How did they find out?' I wondered curiously. It was all the more embarrassing because Dr. Kreizler was standing right next to me.
Then what I saw made my heart leap into my throat. One of the kids was holding my sketchbook... my private sketchbook. The one with all of my little drawings of the doctor inside. My heart started pounding so hard I could hear it, and my throat was so dry it was hard to swallow. "Isn't that your sketchbook?" Kreizler asked, and I could do was nod in response. He told the kids to settle down and scolded them for entering my dorm without permission. But when he laid hands on my opened sketchbook it got hard to breath. My insides ached and could feel tears being to fill my eyes. I ran as fast as I could and didn't turn to see if anyone else was following me.
I passed several teachers and Alienists as I tore through the halls. Eventually I left through the main doors of the institute without any intention of slowing down. I wanted to get as far away as I could. I couldn't face Dr. Kreizler now that he so obviously knew why he is the only person I'll open up to. When I reached my destination I slowed down. My lungs burned and so did the muscles in my legs. I sat down in one of the corners of the abandoned house I was now inside. It was one of my favorite hideaway spots before I went to the institute. For some reason it felt more like home than the one my parents brought me up in. But now it felt cold and empty.
Once I caught my breath, my mind played through the events that had happened in front of the doctor. My insides twisted and ached. Tears filled my eyes and I let them fall. I was so afraid of rejection from him that I ran away. I couldn't help but to feel stupid and worthless. As the hours went by, the sun started to fade and darkness quickly followed. The sounds of New York city at night were a lot scarier than I remembered, and I suddenly wished I hadn't came here. 'Maybe I would have been safer on some rooftop somewhere.' I thought. The sound of something or someone entering the house caught my attention.
My heart was hammering inside of my chest and I suddenly felt like a little kid again. I was cold, hungry, scared, and broken. Whatever or whoever it was seemed to be making an effort not to make a sound, and that worried me even more. Especially since I didn't have anything to protect me with. In the low light coming from the moon, I suddenly noticed a dark figure enter the room. It felt like something out of a nightmare or a scary ghost story. "Y/n? It's me. Don't be scared." The doctor's voice said, and I wondered if I was dreaming. I couldn't believe he had found me. "It's me." I replied softly and shyly. He moved closer and I watched him become more visible the nearer he got.
"Thank goodness you're alright. Come here." He said softly as he sat down next to me and wrapped his arms around me. I snuggled into his warm embrace and breathed in his comforting scent. A scent that I had fallen in love with over my years at the institute. "Don't run away like that ever again, or I'm going to have to keep you under surveillance." He said in a soft whisper as he held me close to him. "I'm sorry I... I was just... afraid. Afraid of what you'd say or do once you saw the contents of my sketchbook." I replied timidly. I felt so small in that moment, but I also felt protected in his arms.
"You didn't have to be afraid. I was upset that my younger wards violated your privacy." He replied as we broke the hug so we could look at each other. "But... you know how I feel about you now. You... you know that I...." I said, but he cut me off. He placed his forefinger over my lips to hush me, which made me gasp softly. The slightest touch from him made my insides melt. He removed his finger from my lips and raised my chin so we made eye contact. "I'm going to get... in so much trouble for this." He whispered, his warm breath touching my skin.
Everything felt like I was in a dream; the only time I've ever been this close to him is in my dreams. But I hoped that this was real. My heart felt like it was going to explode as he closed the short distance that was between us. When our lips met it felt like my breath had been stolen from my lungs. My insides felt warm and a tingling sensation enveloped my chest as well as my head. His lips felt warm and soft, making my eyelids flutter slightly before I closed my eyes. I melted into the kiss even though I was shy due to my lack of experience. We broke the kiss for air, but connected our lips once more after we filled our lungs.
Everything about that moment was soft, shy, and perfect. The feeling in my chest seemed to branch out and fill up my entire body. It was borderline overwhelming, but I loved every second. All I could feel was happiness and love. "I... I've never felt like this before." I managed to whisper after after we broke the kiss for a second time. "That's because your brain has just released a significant amount of serotonin." He said with a small smile. A few moments of silence passed as he gently caressed my cheek with his soft touch. "This is very inappropriate. You're my patient." He said, and I furrowed my brows. I didn't want him to ruin the wonderful moment so soon.
I didn't want to think about the rules or if what had just happened was inappropriate and unprofessional. I gently nudge his cutely shaped nose with my own, which seemed to change his train of thought slightly. "There are boundaries I shouldn't have crossed, and yet... I crossed them tonight," He said, gently nuzzling his nose against mine. "I'd be lying if I said I was sorry." He said softly before he closed the distance between us once more and captured my lips with his. After a few heavenly moments of kissing and cuddling, he took me back to the institute. As we walked through the front doors some of his employees expressed concern.
He expertly assured them that I was fine and all I needed was a good night's rest. When we reached my dormitory, I gently tugged at his good arm for him to follow me and he chuckled lightly. He did follow, which kind of surprises me. After averting his gaze as I got changed into my night clothes, he granted me my unspoken wish. He held me close and we shared a soft, tender make out session that I felt in my bones. When we slowly pulled apart I felt breathless and weak in the knees. We kissed each other until neither of us could speak. I wrapped my arms around him and rested my head on his chest. Listening to his heart beat in sync with mine for a few minutes was enough to bring me back down to earth.
++++++++++++++++++ A/N: Thanks for reading!!
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Consider: they go back to rescue Grace and bring her to Ellie like she’s a robot but Diego insists she has feelings so can she stay? And Ellie the lumberjack lesbian just sorta stammers ‘uh yeah sure ok whatever’ because wow for a robot nanny she’s really cute?? And they fall in love
y’all are very insistent on this lmao for anyone new this is regarding the broken five au where Reginald tries to control Five by threatening Vanya’s life so the kids run away! for all of it check out the ellie fortuin tag ;3c
I should make a master list of my aus at some point smh
ANYWAY so after Reggie arrives and Ellie kicks him the entire fuck out the kids reveal that they wish they could also rescue their mother, which is the first Ellie is hearing about this (she assumed the reason they looked sad when she accidentally brought up mothers is because theirs gave the up and sold them to Reginald Fucking Hargreeves - she did her research when she figured out who they were okay)
but in all she looked up she didn’t find anything about Reginald Hargreeves being married or anything so ???
and there’s another thing she’s been meaning to do for a while which she kind of needs to go to the house/Reginald to do and whatever so, you know. She tells the kids she’s going out, puts on her nicest plaid shirt (because actually fuck getting dressed up to see this dude she’s going to wear her muddiest boots) and gives them all kisses and reminders to be good and then sets out
(she puts Marmalade in charge because as much as she complains about the cat she doesn’t trust Clyde not to be a pushover and at least Marm is street smart)
so there she is hammering on the door to the Umbrella Academy with a backpack pull of papers on her back, a lengthy consultation with a lawyer to remember, and a mission in her mind and the door opens and there is a chimpanzee in a suit looking at her and Ellie is honestly just kind of like “Ah you know now it makes some sense why the kids are weird about bringing up monkeys” and just embraces that her life is weird as she follows the chimp (who talks and has introduced himself as Pogo what the fuck) into the house and is told to wait while he informs Master Reginald of her arrival
and while she’s waiting impatiently and kicking off bit of dried mud on her boots to kick under the fancy furniture to be spiteful, she hears humming and who comes into view but an absolute angel?? Ellie would genuinely swear her heart skipped a beat
“Oh!” The Angel says, spotting her, looking mildly surprised, “A guest! Has Pogo already seen to you, dear?”
“Uh.” Ellie says, very intelligently as her brain short-circuits
“I’m Grace.” The Angel smiles warmly and Ellie genuinely wants the floor to open up and swallow her because she cannot form a single coherent sentence and also didn’t the kids say Grace was their mothers name this is not the random old lady she was expecting, “Are you here to see Mr. Hargreeves?”
Thankfully Ellie doesn’t have to embarrass herself any further by attempting to produce something approaching speech because Pogo is back and gesturing for Ellie to follow him.
“It was lovely meeting you.” Grace tells her, before turning back to cleaning or whatever she was doing and Ellie is helpless except to follow after Pogo to do what she actually came here to do.
So that’s what has Ellie standing in front of Reginald Hargreeves and slamming a whole bunch of papers on his desk and saying “Independent adoption” to him as though he, who literally bought seven children, did not know what adoption was.
And then there is a long an complicated argument that busts out a lot of legal terms and more than a few vague threats on both sides. Because Ellie does not want this man to have any legal power over her kids and apparently he is still under the delusion that the kids will ever go back to live and train under him or whatever which HA is not happening
“They need to stop the apocalypse.” Reginald Hargreeves insists to her face.
“Those kids,” Ellie says, voice low and dangerous, “Are powerful beyond measure, and before I got them they didn’t care about the world one lick. Because they’d never seen it. Because what had the world ever done for them? The only thing they knew about humanity was you, Reginald Hargreeves. And you taught them that people were cruel and ruthless and only wanted to use them. You taught them that people without powers were useless and worthless and ordinary.”
She opens her arms wide, “And you think that those kids would save the world? You think they would lift a finger to help humanity when all they knew was that it was evil? The way you were raising them, I’d be more shocked if it wasn’t them who caused the apocalypse for goodness sake.”
Reginald sits before her, pale in his fury, but she doesn’t drop it there.
“Luther likes building with his hands, and he’s really good at it. His favorite food is baby carrots because he likes the crunch and also likes sneaking them to Clyde. He likes helping people carry things to their cars and any praise makes him light up like a Christmas tree, bless him. And when I got him? He didn’t know how to help people, he only knew how to stop ‘bad guys’ and had no idea how to even talk to people.”
Reginald doesn’t say anything. Ellie presses on.
“Diego is an angry kid, yeah, but he had a heart of fucking gold. He’s the first one to volunteer to help with chores or dinner or anything. He’s protective as anything when it comes to his siblings. He was the one who brought home the cranky old tomcat that no one could get near just because he thought that he was lonely and needed a home. And when I got him? He would barely even talk to me because he thought he’d get in trouble for struggling with his words. Thought that his ideas were worth less somehow just because he took longer to get them out. And that’s what you taught him.”
Ellie is really still furious about that. Diego’s stuttering usually only surfaced when he was nervous or stressed now, which wasn’t as often as it used to be, but the fact that he told her once with anger and heartbreak on her face that he was just dumb broke her heart.
“Allison made friends quicker than anyone. She loves to talk to people. She was so excited to go to her friend’s birthday party and when I asked her why she said she’d never been allowed to have friends, before. Never allowed to have friends. Her and Klaus pick out some of the wildest clothes because they’d never been allowed to express themselves before. She’s so bright, and wonderful, and she loves going to the movies more than anything.”
“You can stop, now.” Reginald tells her.
“No I can’t.” Ellie surges up with a roar, clearly taking Reginald aback. “No, I can’t, because those kids are just that - kids. They didn’t know how to save the world because they didn’t even know what the world was! They weren’t allowed friends, they weren’t allowed outside, they weren’t allowed to be kids - do you know anything about them? Do you know that Klaus is brilliant at knitting, and that Vanya can be bribed into just about anything with butterscotch cookies? Do you know that Ben can’t get enough of soap operas, and that Luther would rather go a science museum over a gym any day of the week?”
Ellie shakes her head slowly. “Do you know that they’re all afraid of you? Does it make you feel big to have a bunch of children absolutely convinced that you would kill one of them to keep them in line?”
Reginald looks very tired. Ellie doesn’t feel very sorry for him though because she kind of wishes he was dead, so. “What do you want, Miss Fortuin?”
“Custody of the kids.” Ellie shoots back without hesitation. “I have the forms with me. I have arrangements made for a home inspection by the relevant people to make it official. I have the numbers of people to call to go through with it. They’re already living with me anyway, this would just make it official.”
“Why?” Reginald asks her, which is a fair question she supposes. She already has the kids and threatened Reginald into staying away from them, after all.
“It’s their birthday soon.” She tells him, after a long pause. “We finished the extension so they have their own rooms, even if they all end up camped in one. But I want to give them certainty. I want them to be absolutely sure that you can’t waltz right in and destroy everything that they’ve worked for. I want them to be less afraid.”
Reginald pulls the papers to him and starts scanning them, making Pogo (who had been standing silently by the door the entire time) start in alarm. “Sir? What about the apocalypse?”
And that just makes Ellie angry. She whirls around, jabbing a finger at the alarmed looking butler. “Why don’t you do something about the apocalypse, huh? Why don’t you fix the world? Those kids might have powers, but they are children. Fuck you for putting the weight of the world on their shoulders. Luther can pick up something really heavy? There’s an entire fucking sport that revolves around that, find one of those guys. Diego can curve knives? You built them a fucking robot mother I’m pretty sure it’s within your capabilities to makes some kind of targeting weapon. Heat seeking missiles exist, it’s not that much a stretch. Stop pinning all your hopes on them and start getting off your ass and do something yourselves you sanctimonious pricks.”
Pogo looks shocked. Reginald looks taken aback.
“They’re just little kids.” Ellie tells them, suddenly tired herself. “They’re just little kids. They aren’t soldiers in whatever war you’ve cooked up in your head. They deserve a chance to be happy.”
Reginald looks down at the papers, not managing to look her in the eye. “And if there is someone bringing about the end of the world? Will the children fight, then?”
“Maybe.” Ellie shoots back, no hesitation. “But before I let them have at it’s going to be me going in with my fucking wood axe first. Or at the very least I’ll be there right alongside them helping out. My axe will kill ‘em dead just as much as Diego’s knives or Vanya’s sound waves or Ben’s tentacles.”
Reginald sighs and signs the papers with a flourish. “Will there be anything else, Miss Fortuin?” He says it almost sarcastically, as thought he can’t imagine her needing anything else.
Ellie’s honestly surprised that it actually happened. She thought she’d leave her empty handed and furious but at least knowing she tried. She swipes the papers up into her hands, unwilling to give Reginald to chance to back out.
And then she decides to press her luck. “Actually, yeah. The kids want their mother back. I understand she’s a robot, so we’ll need the appropriate charging materials.”
Reginald raises an eyebrow at her.
“I’ll be back in a week to pick everything up. At the very least I’ll install charging stuff at my house so she can come and visit.” She feels a little bad for just demanding custody of the kids mother as if she’s just an object. Diego insists she’s a whole person who is just under the control of their dad, and unfortunate and hopefully fixable issue.
“It’s a robot.” Reginald says, almost dumbly.
“She’s their mother.” Ellie corrects Reginald viciously, “And she did a damn sight better at parenting than you ever did, even though it must have been an uphill battle the entire time. I’ll be back in a week. Good day to you, sir.”
And with that she turns on her heel and strides out of the room, wondering when the fuck she turned into an angry character in some regency show. Good day to you, sir? Maybe it was the house. Or that ridiculous fucking monocle, god.
She almost runs right into Grace, who blinks at her and smiles beautifully.
“I’ll show you out.” Grace tells her, and Ellie doesn’t have anything to say to that. They get to the door, and Grace opens it, and -
“Do you uh, do you want to come with us? In a week?” Ellie asks, before she gets all the way through, turning to Grace. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask I just - ”
“Thank you,” Grace cuts her off, eyes sparkling and Ellie knows she’s more than just a robot. “Thank you for taking care of my children. For doing what I could not. I will see you in a week.”
The door closes and Ellie is left on the other side with a whole bunch of papers in her arms and hope in her chest and the need to get in contact with more than one person to verify all of this and make this adoption go through.
There was still more to do - like changing the kids legal names (which were still numbers) and figuring out where the charging port and stuff would go in the house (would Grace want her own house?? Ellie was 100% sure they absolutely could not finish an entire small cabin in a week even between the eight of them but Ellie’s cabin wasn’t exactly as spacious as the mansion Grace would surely be used to - Ellie liked to refer to it as cosy)
(a week later, Ellie borrows a friend’s pickup and grabs all the stuff from the Hargreeves mansion she needs. Grace rides shotgun smiling the whole way there.)
(Ellie doesn’t mention that the ‘luggage’ Grace brought with her looks suspiciously like a wrapped up painting that may or may not have been stolen straight off of Reginald Hargreeves’ walls)
(Ellie might just be a little bit in love)
#ask me#anonymous#bluemedallion#ellie fortuin#broken five au#far tua long#tua#the umbrella academy#luther hargreeves#allison hargreeves#diego hargreeves#klaus hargreeves#ben hagreeves#five hargreeves#number five#vanya hargreeves#grace hargreeves#i'll be honest half my knowledge comes from hastily googled stuff about adoption#the other half comes from matilda#which i'm pretty sure is not how the world works whoops
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Out of the Question - Part 4
Genre: Exes!AU
Pairing: Park Seo Joon x You
By Admin B
Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
You’d somehow made it through the whole week without speaking to Seo Joon.
Well, you did talk to him when your daughter had requested to FaceTime with you on Wednesday, but you’d managed just a ‘Hey’ and ‘Thanks, see you soon.’
But now you were on your way to his house to do your weekly trade-off. You would still try to manage with just a ‘Hey’ and ‘Thanks, see you soon,’ but you would be very surprised if you left without Seo Joon trying to say more.
No matter how you thought about it, you didn’t want to hear what he had to say. You couldn’t. Maybe you were just afraid of change, or maybe you were afraid of traumatizing your daughter... or traumatizing yourself.
You were too scared to find out which one.
Your heart was hammering as you strode down the walkway, headed up the stairs, and lifted your hand to knock on his front door.
You heard your daughter cry out ‘Mommy!’ and her running footsteps followed.
Her sweet face appeared when the door opened, and you bent to give her cheeks a kiss. “Hi, angel!” you greeted with a beaming smile. “You ready to go?”
“I just need my elephant!”
“Okay, baby, go get your elephant and then we’ll go.”
Seo Joon, who you now noticed was standing holding the door open, cleared his throat. “Do you have somewhere to be?” he asked a bit awkwardly.
You straightened up as your daughter ran back to her room to fetch her new favorite toy, shouldering your purse and sliding your hands into your jacket pockets. “No... we’re just going home.”
“Can you stay a little?”
You bit the inside of your cheek anxiously before asking, “Why?”
Seo Joon rolled his eyes just slightly, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Y/N, please. We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t. There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Well, maybe you don’t need to talk about anything, but I do.”
Your daughter came skipping back down the hallway, her elephant clutched to her chest. Seo Joon turned around, waving her back. “Go play for a little bit, baby girl. Mommy’s coming in to stay to talk to Daddy, okay?”
“Okay!” she skidded to a stop, turned around, and skipped right back to her room.
Why, oh why, did you have such an obedient child?!
“Seo Joon, please --”
“Will you just listen to me?” he asked softly, obviously in an attempt to keep himself from raising his voice.
“I don’t want to.”
“Why not?”
You opened your mouth to reply, but you realized you were still standing out on his front stoop, and he was still standing there holding the door open. So you took a couple of steps inside and allowed him to close the door behind you before you answered him.
“Because I don’t want things to change,” you told him, keeping your voice as low as possible so your daughter wouldn’t hear. She was most likely off in her own world right now, but just in case. “Our situation is good right now. Our relationship is solid. We’re happy, she’s happy, we don’t need to --”
“So you think I should just hide my feelings, then?” he interrupted.
“Wha -- your --” you stammered.
“I’m sorry, but that’s not fair to me. You said we’re happy, but I’m not happy. Not really. So, please - please - just listen to me.”
Even though you would rather pull out one of your own teeth than hear the truth from him right now... you knew he was right. It wasn’t fair to him if he wasn’t happy.
So you simply pressed your lips together to show him you would no longer speak. You would listen.
“I know there was a reason we broke up,” he began, his eyebrows raised as he spoke to you. “You were not in a great place, and things were stressful. I completely understand and respect that. But I only agreed to end it because I knew it wasn’t right for you. I still loved you. I never stopped being in love with you.”
There it was. The confession you were dreading. Normally, you would be thrilled to hear Seo Joon, most handsome man alive, say he was in love with you.
But the way things had gone in the past... the way things were now... it was the last thing you wanted to hear.
“And, yes, we have a great relationship, a great situation right now,” he continued, interrupting your thoughts. “But I know there’s something else there. I’ve tried to tell myself it was just me making things up because I wanted us to work out. But I don’t think I’m imagining anything. I can tell that your feelings are not just platonic. The way you let me hug you last week... the way you felt in my arms, the way your lips brushed over my neck --”
“What makes you think we would work now when we didn’t back then?” you asked quickly, not wanting to remember that hug any more than you already did.
“Because things are different. We’ve both changed. We’ve grown up. And, unlike back then, I’m not going to just back off if things get tough. I’m willing to work for it now. I’m willing to fight for you - for us.”
Well, that much was clear because he was doing just that right now.
And, honestly, hearing that he would fight for you was enough to make your heart skip a half-beat. Thinking about how you’d ended it those years ago and how he had just gone along with it but had suffered ever since and was now determined not to let you go...
You hadn’t realized it, but it was what you needed to hear. You needed to hear that someone wasn’t going to give up on you.
And it was coming from Seo Joon, the one you’d given up on.
It was really all too much, and tears began to pool in your eyes.
You sniffed them away and called out your daughter’s name. “Time to go, baby!”
“One minute!” she cried in response.
You couldn’t wait one minute, not with Seo Joon looking at you with those eyes and that wrinkled forehead. “Now,” you said firmly.
“Y/N, please say --”
You shifted your watery gaze back to him, looking into his eyes with the most pleading expression. “I need some time to think.”
“Okay, mommy,” your daughter said a bit meekly as she appeared around the corner.
Seo Joon turned around and squatted down, enveloping her in a hug and kissing the top of her head. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice quiet and low.
“I love you, too,” your daughter replied in a very small, almost scared voice. It made you feel incredibly guilty even though you did this every other week. Maybe it was just because you felt like the Bad Guy in your situation with Seo Joon, and it was now transferring over to your situation with your daughter.
Seo Joon stood at the door while you helped your daughter down the front steps, holding her hand and leading her out to your car.
Not even a minute after pulling out of her dad’s driveway, your daughter caught your eye in the rearview mirror and asked, “Mommy, are you mad?”
“What?” you asked, brow furrowing. “No, I’m not mad. Why do you think that?”
“You sounded mad at Daddy’s house, and your eyebrows look like they’re growling.”
You immediately smoothed out your forehead, letting out a soft chuckle at her remark. “No, baby, I’m just... thinking.”
“Thinking about what?”
“...About Daddy.”
“Is Daddy mad at you?”
“No, no, no,” you assured her. “Nobody’s mad, sweet girl. We were just talking about some grown-up things, and I’m not sure what to do.”
“Talk to a grown-up about it,” she suggested with a tiny shrug.
You were about to say this was something only you and her Daddy could talk about, but then... you had an idea.
“Hey, I think I should,” you nodded. “Do you want to go to grandma’s house?”
Your daughter let out an excited gasp, her eyebrows shooting halfway up her forehead. “Yeah!” she cried.
You changed course immediately, now heading for your mom’s house. Because if there was anyone who could help you think through this situation, it was your mom.
Thankfully, your mom’s car was in her driveway when you pulled up; you hadn’t had time to call her before coming over, so you’d taken a risk on whether or not she would even be home.
As soon as your daughter was out of the car, she ran up to the front door, jumping to ring the doorbell. When the door opened, you had just arrived, and your daughter cried out “Grandma!”
“Well, look who it is,” your mom smiled, bending down to pick up your daughter and hug her. “What a surprise! What are you guys doing here?”
“Mommy needs to talk about grown-up things,” your daughter answered, and you rolled your eyes good-naturedly.
“Oh, she does?” your mom asked curiously.
Your daughter nodded, and then she got right to the point: “Can I go and watch TV?”
“Yes, baby,” your mom chuckled, letting your daughter slide down to the floor and patting her cute little butt as she ran to the living room. She then stepped aside to let you in, closing the door behind you. “What’s going on, honey?”
A heavy sigh escaped your lips, and you shook your head slightly. “I just -- I need to talk to you.”
“Is everything okay?” she asked worriedly.
“Yes, everything is fine, nobody is hurt or sick or anything. Everyone still has a job, nothing like that.”
Your mom let out a low hum before ushering you back to the kitchen. You could already hear Paw Patrol on the television, and you could imagine your daughter lying on her stomach on the floor, propped up with her elbows and holding her chin in her hands. Her little feet were probably kicking up in the air behind her, too.
“Here, sit,” your mom murmured, pulling out a chair at the table. “Do you want some tea or anything?”
“No, thank you.” You’d learned your lesson from last week when you’d left a full cup of tea sitting on Seo Joon’s counter.
“Well, what is it? What’s going on?”
“So...” you began, your brow furrowing deeply. You’d been trying to think of how to explain everything, but it was probably better to just come right out and say it. “Seo Joon told me that he has feelings for me.”
Your mother’s mouth immediately formed an ‘O’ of surprise, and her eyebrows raised. “He did?”
You nodded.
“What did you say? Are you two getting back together?”
“I said I needed time to think.”
Your mother studied you for a few moments, and then she said, “Well, how do you feel about him?”
Ah. The million dollar question.
“I... don’t know. I don’t think I know.”
“Are you attracted to him?”
“Mom!” Oh, my god, what was more embarrassing than your mom asking if you were attracted to someone?!
“Well! Are you?!”
“Yes, mom! Of course, I am!” I mean you had a child with him, for Pete’s sake. You wouldn’t have a child with someone if you weren’t attracted to him!
“Well, that’s a start,” she nodded. “And you like him as a person?”
“Of course. He’s an amazing father.”
“What about an amazing husband?”
“Mom,” you warned.
“Okay, amazing boyfriend.”
“I mean... yeah, he was back then. And I know him so well, I know he hasn’t changed. At least, not like that. Even as a friend, he’s always treated me better than any other guy I’ve known.”
A slight smirk grew on your mom’s lips. “So, what’s stopping you, my love?”
“I don’t know! I mean -- he said he wasn’t going to just step away if something happened like last time. He said he’s willing to work for it and fight for us now. He -- he said he never fell out of love with me.”
Your mom’s eyes widened slightly, and she reached out to cover your hand with hers. “Well, it sounds to me like he’s serious. He wants to make it work, and he’s willing to do whatever it takes. Isn’t that all you can ask for?”
“Yes, but what if it still doesn’t work?” you asked, your throat closing with emotion and tears forming in your eyes. “What if something else happens, and I can’t deal, and we break up? Again?”
“Honey, it’s okay to be scared, especially when it’s happened in the past. But you can’t hold yourself back just because you’re scared. Especially if you’re holding yourself back from love.”
“I know,” you choked out. “But if we don’t work out, it’s not just us who are going to suffer from it. She will, too, and I can’t do that to her.”
“Believe me, I understand wanting to protect your child,” your mom said softly. “Especially when it’s from something you actually have control over. When we lost your father, I was grieving my husband, of course. But I was also torn up because I couldn’t do anything to help you. I couldn’t shield you from that loss, and I felt horrible. But we got through it. Even if the two of you don’t work out, your daughter will get through it. She will still have the both of you, and that’s all she needs right now. You can’t let fear control you, honey. That’s not how you want to live.”
A tear fell onto your cheek, and you reached up quickly to wipe it away.
“And you won’t be alone,” she reminded you gently, squeezing your hand. “You’ll have Seo Joon by your side. That makes it so much easier.”
You just nodded, the lump in your throat now too large to talk around.
“You need to go and talk to him, tell him everything you’ve told me, and make a decision together. But you have to promise me that you won’t let your fear decide for you. Don’t think about your daughter or me or your dad or anyone else but you. What do you want?”
You nodded again, and you leaned over to wrap your arms around your mother, squeezing her tightly. “I love you,” you mumbled, your voice strained and tear-filled.
“I love you, too, baby. Now go get you your man.” She gently pushed you away, a sly smile on her lips.
“Oh my god, mom,” you said with a watery chuckle and roll of your eyes.
“No, really, go. She can stay with me.” Your mom then turned around and called out into the living room, “Do you want to spend the night at Grandma’s tonight?”
“Yeah!” your daughter squealed.
Your mom turned back around to face you with an expression which clearly said, ‘Well, there you go.’
You let out a soft sigh and figured you had no choice but to give in. “Okay, okay. I’m leaving.”
You went into the living room to give your daughter a goodbye kiss, and you thanked your mom once again before heading out the door and to your car.
Unsurprisingly, your heart was racing the whole drive back to Seo Joon’s place. Your mind was a whole mess of thoughts, and you could barely think of what you would say to him.
Before you knew it, you pulled into his driveway for the second time today. You headed up the walkway, you went up the front steps, you lifted your arm...
And you knocked.
Part 5
#park seo joon scenarios#park seo joon imagines#park seo joon au#park seo joon fluff#park seo joon fanfic#kdrama scenarios#kdrama imagines#kdrama au#kdrama fluff#kdrama fanfic#park seo joon#kdrama actor#park seo jun
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He’s in Charge; Chapter Seven
Pairing: Henry/Bertrum
Warnings: (Light) drinking, coming outs, binding with bandages
A/N: Ah, this chapter... Easily one of my favorites in the book, in which Henry and Bertrum have a true heart to heart about who they are and how they feel with each other. It’s an emotional thing and was very emotional to write. This is also your friendly reminder that Henry binds with ACE bandages, which is highly unsafe, and shouldn’t be done with so many options available nowadays.
Chapter word count: 2,681
{First part} {Previous part} {Next part}
Chapter Seven; Honesty
Without Joey to give directions on the new episode, and Bertrum's team already set to work on the next prototype feature, most employees of Joey Drew Studios decided to take the rest of the day off and though they wouldn't admit it quite yet, they were planning on taking the next day off as well. It may put them all behind schedule by Joey's standards, but he'd have to adjust this time. At least, that was the explanation Henry gave Bertrum when he arrived at his house. The building was just as daunting as before, though in full daylight, it really was quite beautiful.
“If you'd like, there's a much less formal dining room upstairs. It's more meant for living in than hosting.” Bertrum offered, pointing to the stairs.
“Sure, that sounds nice.” Henry gave him a grin, noticing that as they began to ascend, Ferris had found and started to follow them. Half way up, he rushed past them both, standing at the top with his tail wagging. He had a fairly large rope toy with him and as soon as he was able to figure out what room they were headed to, he ran in.
“He seems excited that I'm home early.” Bertrum commented, leading the way into a much more compact room. A larger radio sat by the door, not far from a small round table. Across the room was a soft-looking dark yellow couch, a matching armchair not far from it. Both were angled towards the window, the brown curtains pinned open to let in the natural afternoon light. Just under the window was a square cushion that matched the color of the couch, meant to be a bed for Ferris. The room itself was fairly open, with plenty of space to move around.
Burtrum slipped his suit jacket off and hung it on the back of a chair at the table. “I'd offer a glass of wine, but you don't at all feel like a day drinker. If you stay for dinner, though…” His eyes fell on Henry as he raised a brow.
“I might just have to take you up on that offer.” Henry's lopsided smile held.
“Fantastic. I was thinking that- What? What do you want?” The interruption in his thought was caused by none other than Ferris, who bowed at Bertrum's feet with his tail wagging in the air and rope toy still clamped between his jaws. Bertrum spoke directly to the dog.
Henry chuckled at the action. “It looks like he wants to play, he definitely missed you.”
“I suppose you're probably right.” Bertrum gave a toothy smile, bending down to grab one end of the toy.
*****
Much later that night, after Bertrum had made them both a good meal, they'd made themselves comfortable on the couch, talking quietly. Ferris was asleep, worn out and curled up in his bed under the window. He snored faintly, though it could hardly be heard over the soft music from the radio.
“I never really considered anything else as a career besides art, really. I'd always wanted to go to school for it, but… I had to pay for it myself. My parents weren't exactly happy about my choices.” Henry explained, looking down into a glass of water. “What about you? Did you always want to build amusement parks?”
Bertrum considered the question, carefully swirling the wine in his glass. “Not exactly, no. I always entertained the idea of building something grand, but for a while, I worked construction to put myself through university. Most of my classes were aimed towards building… something. It simply turned out to be amusement parks. Roller coasters are some of the hardest rides to design, but to me, they're the most fun.” He smiled almost sheepishly.
“Fun to draw, too, actually.” Henry replied.
“That reminds me of something I wanted to ask you.” Bertrum adjusted himself to face Henry, setting his glass on the end table by the arm of the couch. “I have a business proposition for you.”
“Oh?” Henry tilted his head.
“I know I've asked you about slipping out from under Drew's thumb before, and I know how you feel about leaving. I've seen the real you, not the you that works day and night, breaking yourself for a short. You're passionate about what you do. You love your art, your characters. I think you deserve to be doing more with your skills, perhaps making a bit more money than you do now.”
“What are you saying?”
“I'm saying… What if I were to hire you out from under Drew? It wouldn't be hard for you to learn to draw blueprints, you already have a sharp enough mind for designing parks. I could use someone like you on my team, anyhow. Being the only creative mind behind such a large operation is… difficult. Now what do you say?”
At that point, Henry laughed. “I'd say, exactly how much have you had to drink?”
Bertrum rolled his eyes. “I'm serious. Your insight on Drew's park has helped immensely. Imagine if we could keep going, do more than just one park together. Imagine being able to put our work across the country, perhaps worldwide someday.” He slowly started to move closer to Henry, reaching for his hand.
“You know, that sounds just like what Joey told me…”
“The difference is, I'm not out for profit. For power. You would be my equal, and where I want you to work, you would be splitting the income with me, evenly.”
He carefully intertwined his fingers with Bertrum's, looking down at them. “Gosh, I don't know… What about my characters?”
“We can legally get them back from Drew, and then they're yours to do with what you will.”
Henry looked up then. “We could finish Bendyland. Then it would be your park, not his.”
“No,” Bertrum corrected, kissing Henry's lips. “Ours. Our creation.”
Henry couldn't stop himself from smiling, returning Bertrum’s kiss as best he could. “I'll admit, that does sound really nice… Deadlines wouldn't be as chaotic, I wouldn't have to worry as much.”
“Exactly. You can't live in fear anymore, what kind of life is that?” He wasn't aiming for an answer at all, and Henry knew. Though their lips weren't touching anymore, their foreheads were, Bertrum letting out a small, content sigh. Slowly, Bertrum stood from his spot, still holding Henry's hand. He gave it a gentle tug, asking the animator to stand without speaking.
Henry followed, only raising a brow when Bertrum started to take him down the hallway farther. “So where are we going now?”
There was a brief silence from Bertrum. “Bed.” He answered simply, though it came out almost as a question.
Ignoring the panic that started to bubble in his chest, Henry nodded slightly, his face growing warm. “O-oh… okay.” He did his best to sound cheery. Bertrum was not someone he was ready to say no to.
*****
Bertrum's bedroom was just as grand as the rest of the house. With a series of tall windows taking up one wall, it had a perfect view of the huge backyard, but in the dark, there was nothing to see. The white floor-length curtains were drawn for the night over most of them, anyhow. Centered against the wall across from the door, the bed took up much of the space, the dark frame and canopy that reached overhead a perfect contrast to the pale gray sheets that decorated it. Bertrum and Henry had seated themselves at the foot, Henry putting his weight on his right arm and holding Bertrum's cheek with his left. Bertrum had one hand on his side, which already had him shaking. Their lips were locked together in a slow kiss, only coming apart for a few short seconds to breathe. Gradually, though, Bertrum began to press a little harder, his free hand reaching for the buttons of Henry's shirt. He'd undone two in the middle when he pulled away from their continuous kiss, though not far.
“May I…?” He requested softly.
Red from his ears to his neck, Henry seemed to consider the question, then nodded. Bertrum moved his hands away just for a moment so he could move to sit higher up on the bed. Henry did the same, unbuttoning his shirt without help by then. With the front hanging open, his bandages were clearly visible. Bertrum quickly slipped his own shirt off of his shoulders, letting it fall over the edge of the bed.
Even in the lowlight, the definition of his muscles was very clear; Being a part of his own construction team as well as a designer really did pay off, it seemed. For a moment, all Henry could do was take in the sight of him, but only for a moment. Henry was back against his lips quickly, his palm against his chest while he shifted himself to practically be in Bertrum's lap. He was cautious of the large bruise painting one side of his ribs, as well as the one on his clavicle. Facing each other at a more forward angle, it was easy for Bertrum to slide his hands against Henry's shoulders, completely pulling his shirt off of his body. Both hesitated for a few seconds, seemingly unsure of what to do next and for Henry, at least, he was frozen out of fear.
Bertrum cleared his throat, light pink dusting across his cheeks. “I, uhm…” He shook his head to push whatever thought he was about to share out of the way, reaching out to grip the edge of Henry's slacks. Once his fly was undone, Henry worked himself out of them, letting them drop off to the side of the bed with the rest of their clothes. By then, Henry was acutely aware of his heart hammering against his ribs. He wondered if it was possible to see his bandages moving with each beat.
At that moment, Bertrum went pale instead of blushing, leaning back on one hand and dragging the other down his face. “Henry, darling, I have to admit something to you, before we… before we go any farther.”
Henry sat back, tilting his head. He forced himself not to shake any harder, especially when a small wave of relief that they stopped hit him. “Is something wrong…?”
“Possibly… Possibly, yes, but it's… with me. Something may be wrong with me.” He refused to look Henry in the eyes. “I don't… want this. Before you panic, I promise, I love you. Truly, I love you with my whole heart, but this… being totally physically intimate? I… can't. I've never had an interest in it, a need for it. I thought perhaps being with you, out of all people, would change things, change me, but it hasn't. It isn't your fault, I swear. You're so perfect, and perfect for me, but that made no difference! It should have, but it hasn't, not yet…” His words, slowly, had become more and more frantic, tears filling his eyes. He nearly sobbed. “Something is wrong with me.”
Henry instantly had a hand on his cheek, wiping away the tears that began to fall. Seeing Bertrum in such a state was unthinkable to Henry. “Hey… Hey, no, you're alright… Bertrum, there's nothing wrong with you.” Henry shifted himself so he was sitting more to the side of Bertrum than on his hips. “It's okay if you don't want to now, or ever, if you don't change your mind. Everyone's different and that's more than okay with me.”
Bertrum dragged his teary eyes back to Henry's. “Are you sure? I don't want to disappoint you in any way, I was starting to think it was something you wanted to do tonight…”
“How would you disappoint me? All I want is you to be happy. And, well, if we're being honest… open… with each other about all this… There's something I need to say too.” Henry idly picked at the edge of the bandages at the top of his chest.
“What is it?” Bertrum sat up a little straighter, calming himself.
Henry took a breath, gathering himself before he launched into a story- his story, part of which he was sure Bertrum had guessed already. He spoke about how since he was younger, he'd tried his best to be himself, but in turn, had to keep his past and the body he'd been stuck with a secret. He spoke of his struggle with his own image, and the discomfort he found in every day when he had to find something that looked right on him, that fit his bound chest. He explained the pain, both in his mind and in his bones that he felt for trying to look the way he did, and he explained how intensely aware of himself he was at every second.
Finally, he came to their situation, what it was doing to him to be so exposed in his body and soul. “I got… really, really scared when you started trying to take my clothes off. I was scared you'd see what I really am and… not want me anymore, at all. I was too scared to stop you, either, you're just… I didn't want you to be upset with me. Truthfully, I didn't want to do this, it wasn't because of you. I don't think there's anything wrong with you for not feeling a need to make love with someone, and right now… that's more of a comfort to me than a disappointment. I don't have to be scared of you hating my body, not wanting to be with me because of it anymore. Right…?”
“What you really are…” Bertrum, then smiling, leaned over to him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Is Henry. To me, that is who you always were, and always will be, if that's what you want. I told you I would take you any way you are, yes?”
Henry nodded.
“That is still true. I was afraid for myself, at first. Now I know you feel a similar way, and you can understand how I feel. I'm so sorry you had to struggle with who you are to be happy, but look at you now. You're a dazzlingly handsome man, with someone who loves you for everything you are and do. I wouldn't give that up for any reason.” His lips found Henry's again and they shared another long kiss. “I have just one question for you still.”
Henry tilted his head. “Yeah…?”
“Are you… in pain right now? Because of this.” With his eyes, Bertrum indicated Henry's bandages. “Are they hurting you?”
Henry's silence gave him his answer.
The designer's voice dropped low despite the fact that they were the only ones in the room. “Would you mind taking them off? I don't want to see you in pain, and it looks so restrictive. I understand if you won't, I simply wanted to ask.”
Henry looked down at himself, biting his lip. “You know… you're right. I can hardly breathe properly with them on, I've been wearing them since this morning.” As he undid the bandages and started to unwrap them, he glanced up at Bertrum. “I trust you. I seriously trust you.”
“And I you, my love.” Bertrum responded with a smile, making a point not to watch the animator's actions. “We were both so scared if disappointing each other, neither of us were going to even say anything.”
Henry gave a soft laugh. “I guess that just shows how much we care, in a really weird way…”
“You may be right.” Bertrum pushed himself up far enough on the sheets to lay back against the pillows and Henry soon followed. He placed his head against Bertrum's chest, laying on his side with one arm wrapping around his waist just below the bruise. They both adjusted themselves until they were as comfortable as possible, Henry still trembling from the touch ever so slightly. Both men relaxed, alone in the peace and quiet, they let themselves drift off to sleep together for the first time.
#long post#fanfic#fanfiction#batim fanfic#writing#batim#batim au#bendy and the ink machine#bendy and the ink machine au#bendy and the ink machine fanfic#Henry Stein#henry x bertrum#bertrum piedmont#this part is oh so gay#I love it sm
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Leverage Season 1, Episode 13, The Second David Job, Audio Commentary Transcript
Chris: I’m Chris Downey, Executive Producer.
John: And Writer of this episode.
Chris: And Writer.
John: John Rodgers, Executive Producer and Oo-Writer. On my 13th Guiness for the DVD series.
[All Laugh]
Chris: For those of you keeping score.
John: Keeping score at home.
Dean: And I’m Dean Devlin the- one of the Executive producers and Director of this episode.
John: Alright what was our problem with this episode? We had broken up the team and done just about the best season finale you can imagine in episode 12. We did not know if we were getting a second season and we all hate cliffhanger endings.
Dean: Right.
John: So we really wanted to get the crew back together and my god how do you do that? And, you know, and this really killed us this- we hammered this first act- we had the back half of this written for ages.
Chris: Yeah.
John: And really just hammered the first act of this to hell.
Chris: It helped having a little time between the two episodes.
John: Yes.
Chris: On the show three months have passed, so that kinda gave you a chance to reset.
John: Yeah.
Dean: One of the things that I loved in this opening, guys, talk about how you guys came up with this. This idea that we’re seeing all of them break in, and of course as the audience I'm assuming they're doing this together, only to discover that none of them knew the other guy’s were doing this. How did that idea come about?
John: It was originally written that they were- it was originally written that they were all practicing a break in together.
Chris: Right.
John: And the idea was that he would go and have his meeting with them to tell them screw you I'm coming. ‘Fill your hands, you son of a bitch!’ And they would be practicing the break in and they would fail miserably and it would be we’ve just basically written a check we can't cash. Our mouth has written a check we can't cash. And then it was- it was weirdly static because the group was- why were they back together again? We felt like we hadn't gone anywhere off the previous episode.
Chris: The dry run didn't really- in a neutral location didn't really give you anything and you had the idea to bring it to where...
John: Why don’t we- basically, first off, like we’re gonna steal the gallery anyways, so let’s see it. We haven't really seen where we’re gonna be doing the crime, yet, and we should establish that as early as possible. I like very aggressive first acts, which is why often they're intercut between two or three, like, pipe and execution or two or three different storylines, and then it was just one of those things in the room where it was like, ‘what if they don't know each other’s there?’ and that just opened it up. The idea that- cause that was it, the question was, ‘alright when did they get back together after they've broke up?’ And that became, ‘what if they didn't?’
Chris: What if they didn't?
John: And that gave us this really, a ton of fun opening.
Dean: I tell you, I still laugh every time I watch this when Sophie turns around and goes, [whispers] ‘what are you doing here?’
[All Laugh]
John: Yeah. And Parker says the same thing back to her. And at that point the characters were so well established, it was really here's the setting just throw the actors in. You know what the responses are gonna be.
Dean: Right.
John: I think it was Lawrence Block who said, ‘you really know your characters when you know if they walk across a dark room and bang their shin on the coffee table what they're gonna say.’
[All Laugh]
John: And that's a quick reminder that she knows Nate’s wife Maggie; that she would recognize her to establish the stakes down there. And this is great, by the way, that's a green screen behind them. This is shot in the upstairs of the-
Dean: Of the same airport.
Chris: Same airport.
John: Yeah, this is the second floor.
[All Laugh]
John: And that's really the crux in shooting TV is, we've got a lot of locations for, you know, a TV show. Which we have to because you can't con people in your office. I mean we’re not a hospital show or lawyer show - we can't just go to the courtroom, so really the location managers job is to find someplace we can do four or five different looks at. And finding locations that do that...
Dean: So difficult.
John: Yeah, it's incredibly difficult.
Dean: Now you know we talked in the first part of this two part season finale about how we worked a little bit backwards, that we saw the location first and then kinda said alright well let's rejigger the script to match this. Well one of the things that I liked very much was these four stories.
John: Yeah.
Dean: Of the main museum. So quite dutifully, you guys wrote action on three different floors simultaneously.
John: Screw you Devlin!
Chris: Dutifully? I remember being there at the time going ‘John we already worked this out!’ ‘Shut up, shut up. He wants it this way! Figure it out!’
John: I will say, this is because we’re all very good friends and you often- the whole idea is that you're allowed to argue with your friends when you’re making television. Dean had brought us to this location we had really planned out the perfect crime and then we show up he's like, ‘it's got four stories, it's completely open, and I want rappelling.’ And we walk into the room and he was like, ‘what do you think?’ ‘I’m sorry Dean, it's gonna take me more than 30 seconds to come up with another perfect crime!’ And we lived there. We literally lived there for two days just walking around looking at it and pulling out notes of other con stuff we hadn't done.
Chris: God bless you, figured it out a way to work in the rappelling and all we lost was the hazmat suits.
John: Yeah, all we lost was the hazmat suits. We’ll use the hazmat suits in season 2.
Dean: Well this sequence not only is it on three different floors, but they all have to see each other at some point and I remember-
John: That was our vengeance, by the way, ‘like okay you want four floors? Here's four floors Devlin! Shoot this!’
Dean: Well at the end of the shooting day, I was in a pancic because I didn't know if what I had done was actually gonna cut together. And I remember coming here that night-
John: You cut a rough draft of this version that night after we wrapped like a 14 hour day.
Dean: We came here cause I was so nervous that I didn't have the coverage and our- Sunny Baskin cut this episode and he's a brilliant editor, and he'd already roughed in something by the end-
Chris: Terrific.
John: Oh that's great, knowing that you'd be freaking out.
Dean: And it was amazing.
John: That's the glass by the way. That's the glass from the first season finale.
Dean: First part.
John: Yeah, it’s basically in that episode.
Chris: 12 Step, too.
John: Yeah.
Dean: Yeah they keep passing it back and forth.
John: In the first episode it's Sterling to Nate and the challenge is to you sir, and in this one it’s Nate to Sterling and the challenge is to you sir. And the idea is that in their friendship the glass became like this sort of-
Dean: It's the glove.
John: Yeah, exactly.
Chris: Maybe talk a little bit about this location. This is not actually a museum this is a-
John: This is the campus building where we see briefly in the first half. And yeah, utterly abandoned and- the fact that he just gets a cheap shot in there is lovely.
Dean: I always love how these guys always try to get a- and again that's a call back to the pilot, when in the reverse situation, Aldis bangs Eliot's head against the car door putting him inside.
John: Just to give him a little something back. Yeah, you can really watch like the pilot and then the two part season finale and match a lot of them shot to shot.
Chris: One of them’s coming up.
John: Yeah.
Chris: One of the iconic shots.
John: Oh yeah the pull up. The car, that’s right.
Chris: Yeah the car, yeah.
John: And yeah, so we had a basically had the place- the run of the place and then we built this entire- this is Lauren Crasco she built the entire lobby to a museum. I've been in museums that don't look this good.
Chris: Look at that.
Dean: Here's a classic comedy beat.
John: Which we rarely do.
Dean: That I've just always wanted to do.
[All Laugh]
John: Oh and by the way that's Gina just realizing she needs to take off the shoes, that’s not written at all. And timing them to come out, Aldis is still handcuffed.
Chris: This is it. I love this, I love this so much.
Dean: This is to match the pilot, when they come out of the the first heist.
John: That matches the first heist, except the first one they're in control, in this one they're almost about to get caught. It's almost like the directors thought about this. This location I love. This is up the hill from the college.
Dean: Right.
John: This was on the campus.
Chris: And this was the president of the college lived there?
John: I don’t know, but this was a night- this was built by like a steel magnate in the 20s, right?
Dean: That's right.
John: And it had a swimming pool, an abandoned swimming pool in the basement.
Dean: Indoor, underground swimming pool and a strange bar area downstairs. It was very-
Chris: Right out of Raymond Chandler.
Dean: Totally.
John: It was! You totally expected to find the like a dead flapper on the concrete down there. It was very- it was really great house. And this became our favorite headquarters. As much as I love the offices we had, there was something about just the looseness of the- well, the space was lit beautifully, I mean, it really was gorgeous.
Dean: Again, hats off to Dave Connell, our DP.
John: It was really gorgeous.
Chris: If we ever get to do the Leverage tour, come to LA we'll take you walking around this.
John: We’re thinking about doing that just to make a little money for second season.
Dean: This is- this scene is a scene that I think is particularly well written, and fun for the actors to play because it's driving home why this team is apart, and watching how Nate pulls them back together again.
John: It's interesting that- it's an interesting arc over the course of the season, where he doesn't want to lead them, they talk him into it, and by the end of it he realizes whether he wants to or not, he has to pull them back together in order for everyone to get the closure that they need, including him.
Dean: And you do get a sense that he really does love these people.
John: Yes; in in his own broken way, you know, he understands that they need each other.
Dean: There's a very subtle thing he'll do in a minute when he does this whistle, and everyone makes their way over to look at the plans, and of course being who they are they cant help but wanna solve the crime. But if you just watch Tim Hutton's face as he's slowly backing away, watching them look at the plans, it tells you more about how his character feels about the other characters than really anything else he says .
John: ‘Oh look at that, aren’t you hooked?’
Dean: It's such a daddy looking at his kids discovering a toy.
Chris: Yeah.
John: Oh there you go, you're absolutely hooked. And that's the whole psychology; he chased them, he knows them, and to a great degree they're all as broken as he is. They have to solve the problem; they just don't have the same skills he does, you know, which gives us the later the hitter, hacker, grifter, thief.
Dean: And it shows, again, his profiling skills. His ability to kinda be two steps ahead in the chess game.
John: I love- And then he does the kind of lay down the law scene and talks them through it. It’s a lovely little scene.
Dean: This is a little inside baseball...
John: Well that’s what we’re here for.
Dean: When we shot this scene, I thought he did a terrific performance and we cut it together - everyone thought it was, but Tim listened to the way he did the lines as he walks forward and says this thing about ‘I already told them’ and he said, “I wanna redo that.”
John: Wanted ADR it?
Dean: Yeah. There was no reason to on a technical level, he just felt he could do something special with it, so he came in here and lo and behold, he did elevate it just a subtle amount, but it was absolutely worth doing. And one of those things that really only someone who really knew their character inside and out, could tell.
John: Yeah and a guy who’s directed. You know, the director part of his brain was like, ‘yeah you could have got a little more out of that’. And this is, again, with the food there, this is the kind of recurring theme. This is their snacks, this is their home, this is their living room, this is what they do for fun.
Dean: Yeah. They enjoy this stuff.
John: ‘Biblical’
Dean: This was the level little twist on, you know, we do a lot of scenes where everybody walks out of the room and we linger on Nate thinking. Here's, like, the opposite.
John: Yeah, because he knows he's in control at this point; he absolutely knows what he's gonna do. He's got an agenda, he's walking in with purpose every time. It’s- by the way, it's interesting, when you got a five hander - trying to get people in and out of these goddamn rooms.
Dean: Oh boy.
John: And the blocking and in writing you know we try to help- the writers try to help the directors, trying to split it up and make sure they're not all there at any given point, but then you have to cook up, you know, there's a lot of times Nate walks into the room with purpose and you have no idea what purpose. It just- obviously he's got stuff to do, and it starts the scene.
Chris: There's just something about the lighting and the way this whole-
John: This became our favorite location.
Chris: It's a really warm and I don't know what it was about it.
John: Yeah, and this is the low tech scene the plans and stuff. This kinda really brought home our love of process, because here's the thing, we spend a lot of time in the writers room trying to figure out how to do these crimes. That's our process scene. So we’re bored with that then we just write the heist. And this was really because the character beats were coming across in the process. When we went back to it, you know like, season 2, you can do a lot more stuff than just them hanging out, figuring out crimes. I like watching them do it. I genuinely enjoy watching them do it.
Chris: We kept wanting to make better screens. ‘We need screens where its like Minority Report where they touch the screen and they move the pictures’ and here they've got planes, and there’s paper.
Dean: Drawings and strings.
John: And the emotional agenda .
Dean: Yeah.
John: They're all basically- It's a Sophie/Eliot and Hardison/Parker scene, happening at the same time Nate is trying to get them to plan the con.
Dean: I love the reminder here, you know, of how angry Eliot is at Sophie for having betrayed-
John: Yeah, he does not forgive her; he will not forgive her until, you know.
Dean: Until he gets an apology.
John: And to me there was always- we played around with a scene we never wrote, where Hardison basically talks him into it, and it was a Hardison/Eliot scene that kind of focused on their relationship, but honestly this things jammed, we just didn't have time. There's a lot going on.
Dean: Yeah. Well in fact, there's some lovely scenes that were cut from this episode that will come back, you know, which is when Parker steals the pills-
John: Oh yeah!
Dean: -and Aldis does the woman who's overdosing.
John: The dying grandma! The dying grandma.
Chris: Oh, that was great.
John: That's right we shot that, too. Can we put that on the extras?
Dean: That'll definitely be on the deleted scenes on this DVD.
John: Theres an entire separate con, to set up the museum con, that we never see and then we just cover it in a line. And it works, it works fine.
Dean: But it's a fun scene to see.
John: Who is that? Who is that gentleman sneezing?
Dean: This would be- we call him the king of hold, affectionately. I first worked with Erick Avari in Stargate where he played Kasuf, the leader of the other planet. He did a small part for me in Independence Day, and then the second Librarian movie, he played main villain and we brought him all the way to Africa. And he worked for 2 days and be off for a week, he’d work for a day, be off for a week, so we called him the king of hold.
John: Digital shutters there.
Dean: Digital shutters, but mirroring the actual shutters that were actually there.
John: There were real shutters there - that was one of the attractions of it. And then I love, however, when they say, ‘okay we can turn them on for you’ and we’re all ready, we’re all gathered to get test footage and everything-
Chris: ‘Better put your earplugs in, these are gonna be pretty loud.’
John: We turn the thing and the alarm starts going off and they come down at about an inch an hour.
Dean: Right. [Laughs]
John: [sound effects] Like, okay, that was somewhat less dramatic than we had hoped for. And so we wound up building- we wound up shooting it actually then speeding it up.
Dean: And then mixing it with some digital ones, that's right.
John: I love, by the way, the opening of this - if young actors, if you go back to the beginning of the scene, you can watch Mark Sheppard subtly upstage everyone. It's not super subtle, but it's just a nice stage technique.
Dean: And Kari, in her recognizing the man who was flirting with her at the party, just gives such a great little performance.
John: ‘Oh, yeah.’ That's also an interesting look that kind of really established that Kari and Sheppard knew each other from when he was Nate’s friend. And there was a softness in that relationship I wasn’t expecting. This is great. And this is something we almost never play.
Chris: Yeah.
John: This is Nate and Eliot bickering, which we almost never do. And Chris by the way-
Dean: And Eliot having the upper hand.
John: Yes. And Chris, by the way, plainly using the voice he uses when he seduces women. This is not Eliot by any stretch- plainly Chris Kane putting on the phone voice.
Dean: And this end here was all improv. And it was just great.
John: Well the hot coffee bit, cause it's really, it’s funny, ‘cause I-
Dean: The ‘you're putting your hair up?’ ‘I’m being the-’
John: ‘-the professor dude!’ I love that. That's all improvised. She probably just wants some hot coffee was great. Chris came up to me right before they shot this like, ‘how dirty?’ And I was like, ‘medium dirty.’
[All Laugh]
John: This is shot in the front yard of one of the university buildings that looks like a frickin cafe. We just, you know.
Dean: Yeah it was such a great location, we just lived there.
Chris: And this was on the stage.
John: Yeah. Inside in the van. And this is great because, again, Nate’s not comfortable. Nate not in control is not good, and this is kind of where we gave Kari all the complaints the other characters had about Nate for her to vocalize, so they could kind of- it was cathartic to the group to here someone else say this.
Dean: And then the kick on the ground to say he was terrible in bed.
John: Just a little- I love the reactions everyone did there - how uncomfortable he plays knowing that Nate is watching.
Dean: Watching everything.
John: Yeah, exactly. Kari really takes a ridiculous amount of delight in here. I often wonder what Tim was like as a director for Kari to launch in to this quite so [mumbles]. She really dug in on that bit.
Dean: Tim gets to play such a reversal here, given that he's always in control, he's always the one whos withholding, and now he's trying to explain-
John: Oh, I love parkers ‘Ooh, there's no save from that’. Yeah, he’s trying to explain- Tell you what, again, the joy of a television show is that the characters change, the actors- you have 12 hours to find what these actors can do. Nate being somewhat annoyed and out of his depth is definitely becoming the kind of the season 2 vibe.
Chris: Yeah
Dean: Oh yeah.
John: He's just- its a bit more they need him in the life more than he needs to be.
Chris: I love her eating gummy bears, too. Sitting there and...
John: Yeah, ‘I feel used’. And it was interesting, cause the originally that was done with them offstage, and seeing them sort of framed there really opens up the space and, you know. ‘Going great. Going great.’ And that’s, again, the old friends vibe that's kind of everyone's locked into at this point.
Dean: Now this is an interesting bit, because it starts off with a bit of humor and it becomes literally the most dramatic scene of the entire series. And the pay off to everything that we set up about the son in the pilot.
John: Now we shot the death of the son full on. We shot the entire sequence when we did the pilot, right? So that we could use that footage- we never used the footage in the pilot.
Dean: Well we used just the beginning part where he's looking at this son, but we never used the part where he ran in and picks his son up.
John: And you had argued, correctly, you had argued that this is really dramatic, it would throw off the tone, the pilots supposed to be light, and I was like, ‘ahh you don't really see what happens’ and I will admit the first time I saw this cut together, I cried. I was like, ‘You’re right, this was devastating.’ Not only for the performance in the flashback, but what Tim is doing live.
Chris: Well, I mean, his- to me he carries the whole thing.
John: Yeah.
Chris: Not even that scene.
John: You don't even need the flashback, but the flashback plus this is devastating.
Dean: And we parsed it out over the course of the season. We saw a little bit more every time we did the flash, it was a little bit longer than the last time. And here we played it out and then of course, we got to bring Kari into the flashback which is really the coda of that.
Chris: And Dean, what went into setting it here? I mean, did you think about other places indoors?
John: For example, one without a fountain 8 feet from the actors?
Chris: No, no but I’m just saying, it would have been...
John: I'm giving him shit.
Chris: You know was- what went into that?
Dean: I thought it was actually trying to go against the cliche of it being night and dark and gloomy. That if it's a beautiful setting, its outdoors, it's a little bit, you know, the thing where if you're gonna break up with your girlfriend, you wanna be in a public place.
Chris: Right, right.
Dean: Well, he’s about to tell her the most painful, private thing in the world, so he's doing that someplace where its gonna be easy to escape if this goes horribly wrong.
John: And thats whats- there’s an interesting there's an interesting moment here where he says,’if you looked at me the way I look at myself, I'd blow my head off’. Nate is fully capable of deal with his own self-loathing. He could not deal with the idea, the concept, that she would stop loving him or hate him. And that's why he kept the secret and that's what destroyed their marriage.
Dean: And look at how he brings it here, this is such a wonderful performance.
John: Yeah. And by the way, we shot this pretty much continuously; he falls apart during the course of the performance in one long take, really. You could watch that take and just watch the entire thing.
Dean: And after the second take, I thought, you know, he must be spent, and I wanted him to get one more moment and I said, “Do you have another one in you?” And he looked at me like ‘Oh yeah, keep- I could go all day.’
Chris: Do you remember what take this was?
Dean: I don't. But I would imagine it was fairly early cause he really- he nailed it right off the bat.
John: Every now and then it’s like, ‘Oh that’s right: Oscar. This is the-
Dean: This is the part of the flashback you didn't see in the pilot, but it was all shot at the same time.
John: And just, yeah. And man, even the day we shot it it was heartbreaking.
Dean: It absolutely was.
John: And actually, Tim has a son about this age, and just flailing. And there's Kari just- And I will fully admit, I am occasionally overly poetic when writing, but there's absolutely some stuff that was written - which is when she steps in the doorway, Maggie realizes she's lost her son, but Nate has lost his mind. And that’s- His sanity, his sense of self worth, everything was destroyed. She had a tragedy, he was destroyed. He will never be the same human being again. And the actors- really great. That's the good thing about writing - you just write something really pretty and let other people do the heavy lifting. [Laughs] ‘Okay, turn this into something that makes people cry. I'm breaking for lunch.’
Dean: And then just so we didn’t end on too heavy a beat, we remind- we bring the plot back in.
John: Oh you hate him so much here. By the way, I love the fact every time we have a ‘Oh, I love my characters.’ ‘Oh, I hate him.’ You really juxtapose Mark Sheppard - Sterling - coming in. It's like, ‘Oh, they've just made up and now you're gonna be mean to Kari? Oh you bastard.’
Chris: There we go! String!
Dean: String!
John: This is the biggest cheat ever! And that's how the plot will work.
[All Laugh]
Chris: Oh come on, that goes back to the Greeks!
John: That does.
Chris: Who was the first person that came up with the-
John: In media res, that’s what it is.
Chris: And thats how its gonna go. Any questions?
John: It was one of those things where - how do we do pipe that doesn't blow how the con’s gonna work, but shows that we’re planning? Don't. Just come in. Oh. Oh my God, this-
Dean: My favorite Parker moment of the entire series.
John: Why does Parker sniff her? I don't understand.
Dean: It's the weirdest little moment.
John: And yet it completely makes sense.
Dean: And it’s fabulous.
John: You know what it is? It’s like, ‘is this our new mommy?’ Its like it’s- really, really a weird moment.
Dean: And by the way, not a direction I gave her. It just happened because she knows this character so well and it was just fabulous.
John: And that's the nice little look between Hardison and Nate, that Hardison is indeed reading her mail. Just to be on the safe side. And this is where we launch into - when he says we need that large object moved - we launch into our tribute to Never Send a Boy King to Do a Man's Job, the-
Chris: Sure. The touchstone.
John: The Rockford Files episode. The greatest
Chris: From which all things spring.
John: From which all things spring. And this is great. She just- it’s not like you can just make people do what you want. The fact that everyone's kinda laughing at her - no, we do impossible shit every week.
Dean: You haven't been watching this show, have you? She goes, ‘You're adorable’. And pets her head.
John: Which is, by the way, one of the things I say to someone when they've annoyed me or cut short, so they appropriated it for the moment. The actors actually - it's weird how the actors pick up the writer mannerisms, cause we’re on the set all the time, so there an awful lot of actor writer in-jokes.
Dean: And also sometimes there's second generation. For instance-
John: Seriously.
Dean: Seriously. Started as a thing you would do, it became a thing Amy did, and then the actors pulled it from Amy.
Chris: Yeah.
John: So this- this is great, by the way, again, one of the fact that Nate’s not in control, he's emotionally kind of spun out, and the fact they're telling him, ‘You know what? You were kind of a dick season 1. There are times we like when Sophie- Sophie a little better than you.’
Dean: That's right.
Chris: It's great, too, when you get to add another person to the team. It's not something that we did - we only really did it at the end of the year, and it just kind of mixes things up, changes the dynamics.
John: Opens up the dynamics a lot, yeah. And the idea that Sophie has genuinely come to like Maggie at this point, you just can't not.
Chris: Didn't we-? We lost a little bit of them bonding.
John: Yeah, it was just cut for time. There is a bit where they are having kind of shorthand conversation-
Chris: ‘Oh, and I hate when he-’ ‘Oh this is the worst thing that he does.’ ‘It's terrible.’
John: It kinda went by the wayside, but yeah, they're pretty good friends by this point. See you learn and you con.
Dean: One of my favorite lines.
John: See Nate? Sometimes you know what? You don't have to be so imperious all the time man. And yes and this is- a lot of the little bits here are from Apollo dropping us all those, sort of, loose notes he gave us about cons; like little ways to make people believe you that we worked in.
Dean: Persuasion techniques.
John: Persuasion techniques, and letting him finish it, and never give him the information. Let them completely the information in their heads. And the- you know glasses switch. What was i gonna say the- so yes, so it's a this episode this segment is based on a famous Rockford files episode written by Juanita Rosenberg?
Chris: Juanita Rodriguez. Juanita Bartlett.
John: Bartlett. Which is their big con episode and both Chris and I had watched when we were kids, and really set the standard for big con episodes on television. So we were literally stuck thinking, ‘Alright, Dean has shown us this location, we have now come up with a way to hide everything-’
Chris: ‘Things we could use in a museum. Mummies?’
John: It became what large object could we use to hide the door? And we literally said, ‘Well, I mean, if we're writing Rockford Files, it'd be a mummy. But there's no way we can do that here…’ Well who's stopping us?
Dean: By the way, Gina doing the fantastic, very specific Iranian accent.
Chris: Yes, yes.
Dean: And you probably- most people in America won't even recognize it, with the exception of thinking, ‘Gosh she sounds like Christiane Amanpour.’
[All Laugh]
John: No that was- she was actually- the great thing is, Gina originally- when she’d come back and forth from London, sometimes she'd stay at this hotel, and so when we'd give her an accent she would go down to the bar and just try to find if any of the guests were from there, and then she would hit them up.
Chris: Oh that's great.
John: So yeah, for some of the promos and stuff when she was speaking different languages and stuff, that’s where she got the phrases from.
Dean: She's great in this scene.
John: Just a little distant, a little- just carrying the pipe, not try to sell anything. I like her hair that way, actually. She cut her hair.
Chris: Very 40’s. She had a very 40’s kind of-
John: Very 40’s vibe.
Dean: This was a fun bit you guys came up with.
John: Well again, the idea that we believe the information that's put directly in front of our face. There's so much information on the web, and something happened the week before - one of those things you read and you believe turns out to be fake, just an internet joke that everyone bought into, is we trust the web, we trust Wikipedia, we trust everything on the web, and it doesn't occur to us to think that someone would put a path of lies directly-
Dean: -in front of us.
Chris: Right, right.
John:- in front of us.
Dean: By the way, that's one of our writers, Amy Berg, as one of the professors.
John: Amy Berg, writer of-
Chris: And our prop guy, Eric Bates.
John: Our prop guy, Bates, is one of our other dead archeologists. And the guys just having fun here. Really it's just point the camera at this point. Just kinda slide back and forth and assume they're gonna do something amusing. And then she brings her in for the close out. Lauren Crasco, great job this is the- where is this?
Dean: This is a little auditorium in that same compound that we did the museum and everything else and decorated to be a presentation room for an Egyptian exhibit.
John: Also, you'll notice, by the way, that it's a small writing thing, but it's somewhat satisfying. First off, the virus she describes exists and is real. Because we originally when we were pitching out the mummy's curse. ‘Okay, no one's gonna believe the mummy's curse, he's just an idiot if he believes in the curse.’ Well where did the curse come from? And that led us to this infection, the spore infection-
Dean: -the infection.
Chris: -the spores, yeah.
John: But the thing she uses to distract him, which is ‘you came to my office to talk about the benches, now you sign the purchase orders for the benches.’ The benches are the key to the entire final heist. Shes using his state here, the rest of the con, to set up the final con. And now putting the deadly, deadly mummy away as one would.
Chris: Please get that away from me.
John: And we know they're up to something. And this was actually, Amy Berg wrote this scene. We realized that we were going into the back part of the finale without resolving the Eliot/Sophie bit. And we were kinda stacked and Amy was hanging out for free, honestly she was just really just-
Chris: We were very tired.
John: We were very tired.
Dean: But the thing she brought to this scene that I think is so interesting, is it's the apology without ever having the ability to say you're sorry.
John: Well that's a lot of the writers room. We’re really very emotionally shut down in there.
Dean: So this is, as an actor, that's a very interesting thing to play. She needs to convey that she's sorry, but her character would never ever say she's sorry.
John: Actually the other great thing Amy came up with here, is the idea that we’re seeing the last one, not the first one.
Dean: Right.
John: And how that would annoy him. There's a lot of great little dynamics in this scene.
Chris: It's really nice.
John: I gotta say its a nice piece of work
Chris: Within a very, you know, fast paced episode, it's also nice to take minute.
John: Stop.
Chris: Kinda do some character stuff.
John: Close it out. We feel that we’ve resolved the emotional issue from the first half. By the way, the little thing that Chris spins, everything you notice he does it in almost every episode. I’m always… ‘Do you practice? Do you go home and practice?’
Chris: He did it with the beer, too.
John: Yeah! And he's like, ‘Of course I go home and practice. I would never do something if I don't practice.’ It’s like, damn. Yes the idea that he's genuinely annoyed he wasn't apologized to first, it's a complicated little scene for-
Dean: It is. And for me the thing that really makes the whole thing work, is the thing that brings them together, is the painting from the Homecoming episode.
John: Which is metaphorically their home.
Dean: Their home. And it's such a weird painting.
John : It really is. My own attachment to it has grown quite unnatural. Yeah a little left. That house was insane. I can't believe we had this.
Chris: Yeah, it was great.
Dean: What an amazing location.
John: And that little look he gives him like, ‘Okay. We're done here, we’re okay.’
Dean: Now in the lexicon of music that we use, this is probably the most over the top ‘dun dun dun.’
John: Well of course he's evil, look at him! Oh look, oh she's so nice, oh now she's worried, I hate him so much!
Dean: I love it.
John: Yeah. When we were screening this, I actually couldn't help but-
Chris: Well he gets amped up to make the act break pop.
John: A little bit.
Dean: This is a fun bit. And talk about how you guys came up with this idea that he's talking about each character, not realizing that those character are right in front of him. How did that bit come about?
Chris: Oh yeah. I think I remember I wrote this a 2 o'clock in the morning and then-
John: Yeah, and then I put a shine on it for the choreography because I had been in the location a little bit more than you had.
Chris: Yeah, I think it was just- the purpose of it was basically to set the jeopardy - that this guy was going- that Mark Sheppard’s character, Sterling, was gonna-
John: That's what it was. We had originally done the montage to see everybody going into place because we wanted the audience to know geographically where they were, because geography in a heist is crucial. You must establish where everyone is so the audience isn't wondering. And you had done the great thing of like, what horrible things he had planned to reset the jeopardy, and it was literally page count wise, the act was long and it was once one of those things where - would it work if we jammed it together? And we jammed it together and it absolutely worked.
Dean: Well the lovely byproduct became this hide-in-plain-sight.
Chris: Yeah.
Dean: That the last place you'd look is right in front of your nose.
John: Exactly. And the little look of amusement to Sophie, that, ‘You're good Shepherd, you're not that good.’
Chris: Yeah, yeah.
John : And Nate Ford ending on the arrival of Nate.
Chris: Nate Ford. And I love the idea that he shows up - he bought a ticket.
John: Bought a ticket. Yeah. Nate Ford's superpower is finding the easiest, simplest way to do things. That's when everybody else overthinks it. Because, you know, the rest of this act is so simple.
Chris: Oh yeah.
John: Oh my god. Wow, nice shot.
Dean: Yes. This is, again, one of our 360 shots, but only taken to one revolution to end right on the, ‘we're gonna get him and we're gonna throw him into jail.’
John: This is also nice because we've established, and again, it’s because Mark does an excellent job, we've established that Sterling is very, very scared. He's beaten the team in the previous episode. So by showing Sterling start to get a little worried here, you're actually both empowering your own character and letting the audience know they should be getting anxious.
Dean: And this was nice, him going back and reviewing the tapes.
John: Cause he saw it. He saw it earlier, and now he's like, ‘this is not right.’
Chris: I love that little look - the turn of the head.
John: The little turn of the head, yeah.
Chris: Just disgusted by it.
Dean: Erick is so terrific.
John: Good sneeze; that was an improv too. The tissues here. It was a prop to do it.
Dean: And I love Tim’s look during this. The whole thing is evolving around and he's sitting there eating popcorn.
John: I don't even know how you get popcorn in a museum. It's just great. Look how great that lobby looks. That absolutely looks like the lobby of a New York museum I’ve been in. That's really fantastic that we built that- Lauren built that, so you can shoot 360 in there.
Dean: And again, almost everything we’re looking at in this act is steadicam, you know what I mean? Poor Gary Camp was lugging that thing around nonstop.
John: Well that's your rule, right? That's your rule - once we go to the action, if the con is going smoothly, we go to steadicam.
Dean: Exactly.
John: And we’re in. And the entire act’s the con.
Dean: Right. So poor Gary was lugging that thing the whole time.
John: And we’re shooting the RED which is a little lighter at least.
Dean: At least.
John: At least. How much does the RED weigh?
Dean: Well with all the bells and whistles, probably around 45 pounds.
John: So he's got 45 pounds on his shoulder.
Dean: And the rig.
Chris: Here's comedy, folks.
John: And that's a mummy. That is big sitcom writing right there, ladies and gentlemen.
Chris: And, you know, if you're gonna use a sarcophagus like that, the thing you're gonna assume is somebody's in it.
John: Right. And that's- originally, at one point, we played with that and then said well no, we wouldn't be in there.
Chris: [Mumbles unintelligibly.]
John : That’s Chekhov's rule, actually. If you put a mummy in the first act, it has to go off in the third act.
Chris: Right here's our magic box.
John: Here's our magic box, where we had to- man the set designers just killed themselves designing this thing, because it's actually functioning.
Chris: That's actually- that's functioning.
Dean: Right. And I love this little bit, that they're all just- cause really nothing's going on there except they're synchronizing watches, but it’s such a nice visual, and it's such a nice thing seeing the team is now together and the plan is now afoot.
John: And for the audience it is 3, 2, 1, GO, and it's really a reset that now is when enormous amounts of fun will start. And by the way, it runs roughly real time.
Chris: Oh there it is.
John: I love that look. I love when she does the ‘I'm about to have fun’ look. And by the way, we discovered later, this smoke is real. Tell them about the fogger.
Chris: Oh, the fogger. There is a state of the art security equipment. There now is a fogger, which if you break into a vault-
Dean: Oh and by the way, that’s our first A.D.’s wife Sherri.
John: Yeah. Doing a great job. ‘It's a robbery!’
Dean: So go ahead.
Chris: No, no. At any rate, tt does exist - an impenetrable fog that will be emitted if you break into certain high tech vaults, but this-
John: This was our special effects guys.
Chris: So I’m so happy this came out.
John: But we had to build an actual functioning case that worked with the security.
Dean: Well this next bit here, how did this idea come about?
John: This is absolutely an homage to Thomas Crown, which I wrote the sequel to. This is- this is like, how much absolute blinding chaos can we create? And it's great because we went to Eric in props and were like, ‘It'd be great if- because the entire first act of the show, The First David Job, rests on the fact they are identical. It would be great if we were able to do the same visual reference in the second half. But there's no way you can give us like 40 David statues could you?’ And Eric went, ‘Well I'll figure out a way.’ And on budget and on time, he went out and got us 40 identical-
Dean: He's so remarkable.
Chris: Right. And again, it was to play into what-
Dean: By the way, on the technical level, that is such a difficult steadicam shot. He just did a steadicam shot through a crowd of people. That is so hard.
John: Smoothly. I thought that was the crane. That wasn't the jib?
Chris: That wasn't a crane?
Dean: Nope, that’s Gary on the steadicam, and then he continues it all the way to the door.
John: Oh that’s right, cause he just cut away.
Dean: On a pure technical level, that is a remarkable shot.
John: He's a great operator. There's a lot of stuff we did, that if we didn't have Gary, we'd be in serious trouble.
Dean: And now I get my rappelling scene.
John: Sure, fine.
Chris: There we go folks. Folks, do you know where this came from?
Dean: But the fun of it is it’s Tim doing the rappelling. The last guy we’d expect on the show to do the rappelling.
Chris: There it is.
John: There it is. Boom. And by the way-
Dean: Great stunt.
John: Great stunt. And the happiness, if you actually go back and freeze frame that shot as he lands, you get three entirely different attitudes from the actors. And then he pulls it down and through. And yes, we desperately worked very hard not to kill any of our actors. What was I gonna say? But it is interesting because- how we approached the problem. The original con was that Tim’s the mastermind, and we want to make him the bait. The idea that Sterling’s blind spot is he's afraid of Nate, secretly. And so he would obsess about him and they could use that to drive everyone off. And when it was single rooms and multiple floors that was easier. When it became the big chamber and rappelling, like, well how do we do that? The only place to draw people off is we need to get them out of this chamber, and that birthed a lot of this stuff. And where would you follow Nate? Well it's like Nate would need to get them up on the roof, to get them away to a place where he could get away from them, and they couldn’t follow.
Dean: And they get locked in the box.
John: And that brought us to the rappelling - it brought us to a very cool sequence.
Chris: So when you say here, when Dean says, ‘I want rappelling,’ it can be an interesting sequence. Now I love this shot.
Dean: All kudos to Tim in this scene for just pulling this off.
John: Yeah. Cause this is a guy standing in front of 2 maquettes.
Chris: No its not.
John: By the way, this is beautifully lit.
Chris: It’s beautifully lit, look at this.
John: Yeah, cause are we doing this at night? Is that how we got it so dark? And then we lit it, or-?
Dean: Yeah.
Chris: I think it was night, yeah.
John: Yeah, so the outside’s blown out-
Dean: Yes, that's right. The outside is lit- its night for day.
John: That’s done all the time.
Dean: Sure.
John: Sure! Mad.
Dean: Tim is just brilliant in this scene. I love his sense of accomplishment of revenge.
John: Yup on both guys. And then the big reveal that all the paintings that they’ve stolen, everything but the thing they said they were gonna steal.
Chris: I think that was you Dean, too, wasn’t that? Like we should turn on the lights and all the paintings except the Davids-
Dean: And everything's gone except the Davids. And there's a lovely, again, acting moment between Kari and Tim as Kari is explaining what has just been stolen. And it says miles about their relationship. Right there.
John: Yeah, and she's also calling back to something that [unintelligible]’s character said earlier. Look, there you go, there's a little bit of forgiveness, a little bit of accomplishment, because she is now fully invested in screwing the people who let her son die, you know. Which I kinda feel bad about cause he’s co-opted her in his emotional immaturity. I don't know how I feel about that now that we're looking at it a second time. Kevin’s meltdown here is spectacular, thank you.
Dean: Yeah, it’s a tour de force bad guy meltdown.
John: And then Sterling realizing, checkmate, you know, really- and again, Mark really modulated that character.
Dean: Mark does a great turn here where he realizes- he goes from ‘I’m screwed’, to ‘I win.’
John: Yeah. Mark Sheppard will not let me rest unless I do note in the DVD commentary that at no point does Sterling lose in season 1. He never loses - at worst, it's a tie. And that's what makes him a great nemesis. And this is, of course, an echo from part 1. You know, and that’s why, we start it with- both parts start with each one of those guys holding a gun on the other. It's one of those little filming things. I'm listening. And again you great to see Sterling- what's the strategy here? What's the out? You know he's always trying to salvage something. And also Tim’s choice to ignore the guy with the gun.
Dean: Yeah, the gun is the least threatening thing to him in the world.
Chris: Right.
Dean: You're doing him a favor if you pull that trigger.
John: Yeah and also that the game’s over. You know, in his head he's so far ahead at this point it, you know, it's all gone right that if he dies at this point, it's okay.
Dean: Right. Cause he knows he already won.
John: And it was, again, it was an interesting choice. The flashback, the classic zhoom zhoom, there's really a lot of zhoom.
Chris: The flashback. The this is very much a classic, ‘here’s how I got you.’
John: Yup. It's not the other version, which is: you didn't see part of this scene, it's the oh, you didn't understand the context.
Chris: You didn't realize the significance of it. Which is actually more-
John: -more interesting.
Dean: Well when you watch this, you always think, well for me, it was always why would he tell them in advance he's doing it? And it's all here you go, ahh, that’s why he tells them in advance.
John: You set up, and again, if you kill me now, I can die a happy man, because regardless I have destroyed you. And at this point Sterling’s- I love that little- he realizes.
Dean: This is when he starts to realize, ‘Wait a minute, I’m gonna come out on top,’ and then he loves it. Sterling-
John: Because he's a perfectly amoral bastard. He really is.
Dean: He is. And I love that he switches the gun. He goes from pointing at Nate, to pointing at his own man.
John: Look at him. He's not scared either. It's really we have- we’re definitely working on the Sterling/Nate team up episode for season 2, because Mark really made the character so interesting. It's: ‘Alright, I wanna see what it was like when these two guy actually did it together.’
Chris: Kids, actually be afraid of firearms, not like our characters.
Dean: The way he- the way Tim delivers the line here about, ‘I lost my only son, do you honestly think that you can frighten me?’ It just tells you everything about Nate for this whole season. It's why nothing bothers him anymore. He's already faced the worst thing a human being can ever face.
John: Yeah. And that's part of the challenge is now, is how do we rebuild him? You know, knowing there's a season 2, as opposed to, really, when we did this, we didn't know. And a parallel punch to the first half.
Dean: Right.
Chris: And it's the payoff.
John: It's the payoff punch. And it's the exact same- that Nate did in the first half.
Dean: Except in this one, it knocks him down. Her punch is even harder.
John: We really wanted to give Kari the win there.
Chris: She's very fiery, I buy it.
John: Yeah, I like the smile there, he's kinda proud of her.
Dean: And I love this line here, that ‘this whole plan counted on me being an utter bastard.’
John: Yeah, not just a bastard, and he's perfectly willing to accept that. What was I gonna say? This- it’s really fascinating this location, considering we lived in it, it looks like a million different things. It's really just the same looks back and forth: door to gallery, door to gallery, door to gallery. Different sizes and different people. You know, cause we decorated the entire other half, we dressed, and we never shot that side.
Dean: Not really.
John: We never needed to.
Dean: Just in one passing walk by.
John: Yes, where he goes up to the alarm room. That’s it.
Dean: That's the only time we ever saw that. And this is a nice, connecting the two rooms and realizing how they got all the paintings out of this.
John: Yeah. And the whole idea that down they shot down earlier. And we had to build these benches, and the original con was they were hiding in the benches and then we realized that Hardison - Aldis - is very big and cramming him in this bench would be cruel.
Chris: Yeah that was just-
John: And we wanted to steal all the art, not just some of the art.
Dean: And it was a great gateway to the room below.
Chris: And I love this shot down here, too.
John: This was a 360 in a tiny basement room.
Chris: Tiny.
Dean: With a very very wide-angle lens, which is a tough lens to put on a steadicam.
Chris: And look at that, it ends on this perfectly composed shot right here, I love this.
Dean: Yeah. We've got terrific camera people.
John: And this is the- I think this is the last thing we shot.
Chris: I think it was.
Dean: It was. It was the last day of shooting.
John: -the last day of shooting, and it's weird because I think everyone's playing kind of a weird beat here because it's the last shot.
Chris: Cause we don't know nobody knows- at this point the actors dont know we’re coming back.
Dean: Well it's also because this next scene that's about to play was shot earlier, but the thing I had said - John was standing next to me at the moment I said it.
John: It was very cruel.
Dean: But we were just about to shoot the set, and I wanted to get the right emotions from everyone, so I gathered the actors together and I said, ‘Guys, remember we don't know if we're gonna get a second season. This might be the end of all of it. This might be the finale of the entire series.’ And then I walked off the set.
[All Laugh]
John: And they were wrecked, they were just-
Dean: And you could see it in their performances. It's all there emotionally and they all- everyone of them brought their a-game for this scene.
John: They were genuinely crying. I mean really, they- you worked them up pretty badly. I'm glad we didn't have to shoot anything else after this.
Dean: No, they just nailed it. And frankly, for me, this is my favorite ending of anything I've ever done in my whole career. I love the way this season ended. Because if we didn't get a second season, I would have been fulfilled that I had gotten a complete story.
Chris: We took people on a trip.
Dean: And of course, the- for our listeners here, the hilarity for all of us was when we found out we were picked up for second season, and suddenly John and Chris said, ‘now how the hell do we put these people back together again?’
John: There are times when you’re a little too smart for your own good. And it really was, ‘You know what? Not like those other punk shows that do a cliffhanger. we’re breaking up the team-’
Dean: -and blowing up the offices.
John: -’and blowing up the offices. We have utterly destroyed all vestiges of the template from the first season. Okay we've got a second season. So you've broken up. Huh.’
Dean: Now what do we do?
John: Offices are blown up.
Chris: Oh come on, the audience see they're back. They're back together. Come on.
John: I know, but you know, we- and there's the-
Dean: And there's our callback to the walk away shot.
Chris: It’s beautiful.
John: But this one’s sad. It's a sad walk away. And we did different reactions here, too. Everyone - oh that's nice, Parker crying - we did different reactions here. Everyone had different reactions; we tried different styles and cut together the ones that-
Dean: Gina here is, for me, priceless.
John: Oh that’s an RSC trained actor right there my friends.
Dean: And I love just falling off the cliff here. That there's no resolution whatsoever, we just literally fall off the cliff.
Chris: Ohh.
Dean: Guys, thank you for such an amazing script.
Chris: Dean, thank you.
Dean: And an amazing year.
John: That was a great year.
Dean: I think this was my favorite year, professionally. And It’s all because of you guys, so thank you so much.
Chris: You too, man.
John: I will say thank you, man. It was so great to actually just make the TV show you thought you were gonna make for once.
Chris: Yeah, it is. We did.
Dean: For once, the thing that you wanted to do. Uncompromised.
John: And that’s all of us. All of us got to TNT let us run, and this is what you get. Thank you.
Chris: Thank you very much, Dean.
Dean: Thank you.
#Leverage#Leverage TNT#Leverage Audio Commentary Transcripts#Audio Commentary#Transcripts#Parker#Alec Hardison#Elliot Spencer#Nate Ford#Sophie Deveraux#Season 1#Episode 13#Season 1 Episode 13#The Second David Job
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The Itsy Bitsy Spider 24
I meant to put this up yesterday in honor of National Fanfic Writer's day, but the day got away from me with being sick and everything. But, I figured you all deserve another chapter, so here it is! And remember to water and feed your favorite fanfic writers with comments telling them how much they're work means to you!!
"Hey!" Nat's voice came over the com as Clint made his way down the highway on his bike, wind rushing through his hair. "How about a little company?" The roar of another bike made the archer look to his side and he smiled. "Hey, what took you so long?" "Oh, you know, my hair was a mess and I couldn't find anything to wear." She pulled up to the side of her friend and smiled, revving her engine. "You didn't have to follow me," Clint said, turning around a bend. "I would have been fine on my own." "Oh, I know. But I haven't seen my niece and nephews in so long, so I thought it was time." Clint gave her a side smirk. "Don't use my kids as an excuse. You're just worried about Peter, just like the rest of us. Come on, I know you." The woman snorted. "Look, just because he hasn't done anything doesn't mean he won't. I still don't trust him fully." Until he was out of the facility and away from Tony's work. "Yeah, yeah, tell me another one. Just, don't be too hard on the kid, okay? I'm sure he feels like this whole thing is his fault." When he had talked with him the other day, he'd gotten to know him, taking subtle hints from the way he acted, so he could take a knowing guess to how the boy was feeling. "I'm not blaming him for anything. I just don't trust him, that's all." And she hadn't since the day he was brought to the compound. The archer stayed silent after that, just letting the wind blow over his helmet. He heard a strange noise and looked up to see a private plane go overhead heading straight for his home. Being that his area was a no fly zone, he got nervous and picked up the speed, Natasha on his heels as they rounded the last bend before they veered off a dirt road that led to his home. He had to get there soon and make sure Laura was all right. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ How long would it take to blast a freaking hole in a building!? Hammer was loosing his patience. "Come on guys, let's make it efficient here!" he complained from the car window, watching as droid after droid crashed into the Avengers facility. And every time, when the smoke cleared, there wasn't even a dent in polished white outside. "Dammit!" he pounded the inside of the car. "Please calm down, Mr. Hammer," Mr. Ward's tone of voice was bored. "You've obviously underestimated Mr. Stark's defenses." "Never tell me that again!" Justin seethed. "I am superior to Tony Stark in every way!" Ward held up his hands in a placating manner. "Okay, just calm down and gather your bots. There has to be a weak spot. A way in." "I can't scan the building for anything because of the fucking AI Stark built! It has ti have a weakness!" He hit the seat again and again like a child who didn't get his way. "Hammer," Ward said in a dangerously calm voice. "I will not listen to your screaming like a petulant child." Justin took a moment to calm himself, taking a deep breath. "I apologize. I'm not used to loosing so easily." "Everyone loses at one time or another in their lives." Ward raised an eyebrow as if to enunciate his point. "Yes...I suppose they do." Justin tapped his small tablet. "And I know when I'm beat, and-" he was cut off by his phone ringing. Confused, he answered the unknown number. "Hammer here." "I know where the kid will be," Toomes' voice rang from the other end. "I know where they're going. Phineas is tracking the car the boy's mother is in as we speak." "And how are you doing this?" Justin was very cautious with this, being as Toomes had shunted him in the past. And he didn't like being two timed. "How do I know I can trust you right now?" Sure he had Toomes' family, but he had to know that the man wasn't leading him into a trap. "Herman put a locator onto the woman's clothing that was built by Phineas. They're heading towards where the boy is now, I know it." Toomes didn't sound like he liked asking for help very much, which delighted Justin immensely. "Okay, I'll bite. Send me the coordinates of the tracker. I'll go quietly this time to make sure I get the item." He gave Ward a thumbs up who nodded and got on the phone himself. "I'll tell you where your family is after I have the kid." With that he hung up and a second later, his phone rang and he pulled up a mini-map of the area where the locator was headed. "Perfect." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Placed on the arm of the couch, Peter was left there while Pepper went over to where Laura was already chopping up greens for a salad. "Is there anything I can do to help?" "How are you at making burgers?" Laura pointed to a large bowl full of ground beef. "I can do that." Pepper made sure Peter was still on the couch and set to forming the patties. In the meantime, the small boy felt useless as he stood watching from the couch. He'd never really voiced his opinion about not being able to help, but this was his mess too. It all happened because of him, so he at least wanted to help make dinner. Slowly making his way to the edge of the couch, he used his sticky abilities to get himself to the floor, grateful the couch was low. Once he was on the wooden boards, he started running over to the counter, wincing when his gait had pulled the wound on his side. He stared up at the adults towering at least eighty feet over him, knowing full well that they didn't know about him being on the floor, so he had to be careful around them. "Pepper!?" he shouted, standing close to the woman's shoe, keeping an eye on its movements. "Pepper!?" he shouted again and the woman glanced up, her line of vision going to the couch and she automatically stopped what she was doing. "Peter?" she called and looked down at the floor around them, stopping when she spotted him. "Oh my god! Peter, you know you shouldn't be on the floor! What if I had hurt you?" She crouched down and went to grab him, but her hands were full of meat. "Up here, now," she ordered in a serious tone. "I'm sorry," Peter grunted as he started to climb the up the counter, glad they were polished wood, because he would have had so many splinters by the time he reached the top. "I just wanted to help, and I knew you wouldn't be able to hear me from the couch, so I came to you." He stood by the half full bowl of ground beef, the top of his head not even coming to half the height of said bowl. Laura smiled at the picture the two made. Yeah, it was a little weird to have a boy the size of a mouse standing on her counter, but at the same time she found him endearing. "You know what," she said before Pepper could speak. "I know something you can do. Just give me a second." She nodded at the woman who frowned at her and walked from the room to give them a minute. The blonde waited until they were alone before she started berating the teen. "Peter, you know how dangerous it is for you right now. What if you had gotten hurt? Or worse?" She shook her head, a disappointed look on her face. "I heard you'd made a promise to Tony that if you needed help with anything you would ask. Why didn't you ask for help getting here?" The teen scowled at the counter top, his fists curling halfway. "Because all I do is make things worse! I want to help make something nice at least." He couldn't look up at her face with the guilt of knowing that he couldn't do anything. "Peter, that is not true. Nothing is your fault." Pepper leaned down to look at him at his level, which had the boy looking straight at her. "You are a victim of unfortunate circumstances that made you this way." She gave him a small smile. "And if you hadn't come into our lives to shake things up, we'd just be boring anyway." The teen let out a small laugh at that, then the discussion stopped when Laura sauntered back into the kitchen. "Here you go." She handed the small boy something, smiling knowingly at Pepper. "It doesn't hurt to have a man around the house who knows his way around some tools. And has glue and tape on hand." Peter smiled brightly when he saw the box cutting blade sticking out of the green handle like a pieces that were taped together. "You can help chop." She placed the peppers she'd already sliced up in front of the boy in a large pile. Still smiling, Peter grabbed one of the slices that were as tall as he was and started making little cubes. The 'knife' was too big for him to hold in one hand, so he had to use both, but he was glad to be helping. Next to him, Pepper placed down the burger patties until there were only scraps of meat in the bowl and started shaping little hamburgers for Peter. It was then her bracelets lit up and Tony's voice came from the small speaker. "Pep? You there?" "Tony! Oh god, I was so worried about you! Are you all right?" Pepper immediately put the knife down. "Friday, transfer to a video source. You don't mind, do you, Laura?" The brown haired woman shook her head, watching Peter to make sure he didn't hurt himself.A second later the television in the family room lit up and Tony's smiling face took up the screen. "Hey Pepper. Long time no see." "Yes, you jerk. Where are you?" "Actually, I'm on my way to the farm...with a couple of surprise visitors." The screen suddenly shifted and a smiling Morgan was seen sitting the back of the car, playing a hand game with Bruce. "I hope they're not too much of an opposition." Laura smiled. "It'll be a regular party here. Just let me know when you're in the state ad I'll have something for dinner waiting." "No, don't worry about it. I'll have some delivered." Tony really felt bad about putting all this on the woman and wanted to make up for it. He couldn't do much, but there was so much money could buy. "Mr. Stark?" Peter called, gripping the knife close to him, pressing it against his chest. "I am so sorry about this...I know it wasn't my fault, but I still feel like it is, and I put your family in danger...and I'm sorry." Tony sighed and the women heard Happy snort in the background. "Pete, this is not your fault, really. Unfortunately my company hired idiots for guards. But, I'm not mad, I promise. I'm just thankful you're safe." Morgan chose that moment to look into the screen. "Peter? Is that you?" "Hi, Morgan," the tiny teen said with a shy little wave. "Don't you worry about anymore bad guys coming to steal you away form us! We're a family full of bad-asses!" the girl said proudly. "Morgan!" Pepper gasped. "Where did you hear that?" She scowled at her husband who looked a little too sheepish. "Remember what daddy said about adult words, Morgan? Seriously, she's like a little sponge! But, we'll be there by the morning. Keep the grill hot for us." He smiled and the screen went blank. "That man, I swear.." Pepper sighed with a smile, turning to the sink to wash her hands. "Keep chopping, Peter. We're gonna have a lot of people to feed." At that moment, they heard what sounded like a plane coming in for a landing, skidding on the pavement of the long driveway. Laura wiped her hands on a towel and peeked out the window to see a white haired man getting out alone. "Is he a friend?" she asked Pepper who came up behind her. "Oh my goodness.....that's Hank Pym." "Seriously? The guy who can fix me!?" Peter sounded too excited as he ran to the end of the counter, trying to figure out a way to see out the window, but it was way too far to jump it. "Calm down, Peter. We don't know if he can fix you right now." Pepper didn't like saying those words, but she didn't want Peter to feel horrible if they found out his situation was permanent. Of course, if that was the case, she would definitely talk to May Parker about adopting the teen, letting him live with them full time. So, in a way, as horrible as it was, she hoped Pym wasn't able to fix the boy, but for his sake, she hoped the man could. They watched the white haired man walk down the driveway and he started up the steps when Laura shook herself out of her daze. "I guess I better go invite him in," she said, awe in her voice. Never would she have guessed that the infamous Dr. Hank Pym would be coming up to her door, or that she would have met the great Tony Stark so many years ago...but this was all happening in her life, and she couldn't be more grateful. The woman got to the door just as Dr. Pym was about to knock, his hand in the air when she threw the door open. "Welcome, Dr. Pym!" God, she sounded like a starstruck teenager. "Why don't you come in? I'm sure your travels must have been so tiring." She stepped back and allowed the man to walk through the front door, closing it behind him. "Thank you, Ms....?" "Oh, it's Mrs. Mrs. Barton, but you can call me Laura." "Ah, well it's nice to meet you, Laura. And Pepper, always a pleasure to see you." He started walking towards the woman when something caught his eye and he stopped. "My god..." Hank had never seen anything like the boy standing on the table, holding a blade that was small, but obviously too big for him. For decades he'd been trying to do what he thought was impossible, but here was the proof right before his eyes. Scott had done what he couldn't, and now the man was gone, as well as his research. The only living thing left of him in this world, was this tiny miracle. "Hello there," he whispered, afraid to say anything too loud just in case this boy's hearing was too acute to bigger sounds. "Hello," the tiny teen said back, nervously switching from foot to foot, clutching his knife to his chest, almost as if it were a barrier. "I'm Peter Parker." "It's nice to meet you, Peter. I'm Hank Pym." Slowly, he brought his pinky finger out to shake the teen's hand, a wondrous expression on his face when Peter grabbed his finger. Instantly he felt the dash sized digits sticking to his skin and had to cock his head in confusion. "You stuck to me," he whispered, wanting to get every bit of information from this experience. "Oh...sorry about that. I tend to do that when I'm nervous, and then I talk way too much. Mr. Stark calls it my 'nervous babble', which I know is his way of saying he notices, so I'm cool with how he words it..and I now noticed I'm doing it again." Peter blushed and looked down, his fingers still gripping the man's pinky. "It's okay, Peter. There's nothing to be nervous about." He tended to stay away from children, besides his own and Scott, but this boy seemed to pull Hank in to his demeanor. Made him want to protect him. It was astonishing. "Dr. Pym," Pepper said, getting the man's attention. "I was wondering if maybe I can talk to you?" The man nodded and pulled his hand away, but stopped when he realized Peter was still stuck to his hand. "How is he doing that?" "That's what I wanted to talk to you about," the woman stated. "Peter, it's okay. We'll be right back, okay?" "Right, sorry, sorry." Peter took a deep breath and the man felt the boy physically pull away from his skin. It was absolutely amazing. "Don't worry about us, we'll keep busy, right Peter?" Laura smiled at the boy who nodded and went back to chopping. Hank was unable to take his eyes off the small teen until they turned the corner. "Dr. Pym, Peter is...well, he's a special case, I guess you can say. Tony or Bruce would be able to explain it better, but I'm here right now, so I'll have to do. When this happened to Peter, apparently Hydra injected him with what Bruce explained to be...radioactive spider venom or DNA, I don't remember all the specifics. But, when they did that, Peter..changed. He went from being a normal, every day boy to someone with abilities." She rubbed her temple, strain on her face. "Just, know that he'll ask if you can fix that, too, so he can go back to his normal life. But, Bruce told us all that it would be impossible without killing Peter. And I don't want that." She lowered her hands. The thought of Peter in any danger was enough to make her want to collapse. "No, I don't want him hurt, or dead." "So you love him." Hank kept his face neutral, his tone was straight to the point and Pepper had to laugh as she nodded her head. "Yes....yes, and yes," she affirmed. "I love that boy like he's my own...he's only been around two months, and I would do anything to keep him safe. He's a member of the family, and if he didn't already have his aunt, I would adopt him no matter what Tony said. But, I'm sure he would agree in a heartbeat. He feels the same way about Peter, if not stronger. Morgan even loves him. It's impossible not to." Pym smiled softly. "I understand, Pepper. But, this information of his DNA being restructured, does complicate things everything. I'll have to get a blood sample, run some DNA diagnostics on him, and test his abilities, all before we can talk about getting him fixed, if that's even possible. Sean's work was all in the files he destroyed, so the only thing I have would be Peter." He felt his heart drop to the bottom of his stomach at the thought of his friend, but he shook it away. This was no time to be sentimental. "Please know, that I will do everything possible to fix your son-Peter. To fix Peter. But, it will be dangerous, especially if we don't have any of the files that Sean had." Pepper nodded, but her face relayed her fright. "I understand, Hank. Thank you." He simply nodded and walked back into the room to see Peter again.
@sparrowrider @letsbeinspiredby @6inchicon @ixlovexirondad @carttorchdeatth
#G/t#Iron Man Tony Stark#Irondad#spiderson#shrunkpeterparker#nokinks#justfluff#morgan stark#MamaPepperPotts#protectiveavengers#Marvelfanfic#theitsybitsyspider
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My Endgame writeup or whatever
Okay
I’m gonna try to go in order of what I can remember. I might not hit on everything. Up front I will say—it played better than actually reading the spoilers did. But is that even saying much? I don’t know. I have a very strange feeling about all of it and I absolutely have not processed it yet. I just keep coming back to this thought—I just don’t know. I genuinely don’t know
- I loved the Nebula and Tony bits on the Benatar. He was such a sweet, sweet calming dad. I wanted more of all this. They rushed through it.
- Uh. How did Carol know. Why did they skip her finding out where he was? I need more lol. I also wanted the scene where she originally arrived. Don’t assume shit about us, Marvel, just don’t skip important scenes.
- Side note: the pacing in the beginning is....bad. Really bad lol.
- I liked the Tony arriving back bit. I like everything about Robert’s performance here. How he said “I lost the kid” with such emotion (though does Steve know who he’s talking about?)
- Next scene was some of the BEST work I’ve ever seen out of Robert. Seeing him so skinny like that was horrifying. The look on his face when he saw Peter on the screen. Ripping out the IV, everything he said to Steve, pulling out the housing unit and dropping it in Steve’s hand and then collapsing. Oscar reel. That’s my baby and I’m proud. Damn.
- “up until a couple minutes ago I thought you were a build a Bear” lmfao
- uhhhhh the killing Thanos.....yeah whatever. It was weird. And annoying.
- If I could rewrite this movie, the five years later is exactly where I would start :) A misstep, in my opinion. I don’t believe Tony would trust himself to have a child after losing one.
- “your mom never wears stuff I get her” lol
- kid is super super cute but not a good actress. I had no idea what she was talking about most of the time because she spoke so low.
- Paul Rudd fucking nailed every single scene he was in. He was amazing and a star player to me. His face in the Cassie scene. So good.
- Nat was great in every moment she had.
- The scene with the photo. God. Tony was so absolute in his opinion—he was not going to do this time travel heist. It was risking too much. No way. Get out of my house if you’re gonna talk that way. But then that picture. He takes one look at it, this dead kid that still holds such a big piece of his heart. And the next scene he’s cracking time travel.
- Pepper probably always knew this was a possibility. Their conversation made me cry.
- I hate professor hulk. It’s so stupid. Hate it lol.
- Thor just...made me sad. He wasn’t a joke to me. He was so obviously devastated and sad and just....not himself. He couldn’t forgive himself. It hurt to see him like that.
- Love when Tony drives up so fast and gives Steve his shield back.
- Here comes my favorite parts of the movie honestly. I love the whole team figuring shit out stuff once they were all together again. Tony and Nat laying on the table together with pillows. Everyone eating snacks and talking. This is the kind of shit I wanted ALL. ALONG.
- I felt offended when they were trying to explain the time travel to the audience. It’s so obviously bullshit. It creates massive, massive plotholes and it’s bad. Bad.
- But I enjoyed it lmao. The 2012 stuff was so wonderful. The Hulk getting mad and wanting to smash the elevator and Tony being like “stop, stop” lmao. Tony checking out Steve’s ass. Steve checking out his own ass. 2012!Steve saying “I can do this all day” and our Steve being like “yeahIKNOW”. Scott giving 2012!Tony a mini heart attack and 2012!Thor being so concerned lol.
- Steve and Tony journeying to 1970 was great and I adore them being a team a lot. But I’m not here for the redeeming Howard. Don’t like that guy. Don’t. Like him. Only glad it gives Tony a bit of closure.
- Uh Nat and Clint killed me. I was a wreck. They were my original ship and that just....I really miss her and she didn’t deserve that. My beautiful girl.
- The scene when they’re back and discussing her death was so hard. Thor particularly hurt me with how he couldn’t accept it.
- I knew the whole last bit was coming and it just felt like this sense of impending doom. I hate that it happened, I hate that that dickhead came out of nowhere right when they were fixing shit.
- Okay. The last battle was really good. Steve with the hammer was great. But I wanted Tony to do more. They didn’t let him do enough there at all. I loved the shot of the big three looking at Thanos before they started to approach.
- Everyone cheered and freaked out when the dusted started coming back. Peter got the biggest cheer.
- That little sweet angel running over to Tony and picking him up. Starting rambling on about what happened because he’s got to fill his dad in. Tony looking at him LIKE THAT, just....struck by the fact that he’s back, unchanged, right here, in front of him. His kid. The kid that made him want to have kids. The hug was gorgeous. So sweet how Peter was like “this is nice”.
- Loved the ladies bit and Peter just like :o
- Pepper in her suit. So cool. I wanted more.
- Peter protecting the gauntlet. I love you angel baby. He was so good.
- The whole fight for the gauntlet right there in the end was so tense. I thought I would hate Tony’s last line because reading that felt contrived but it worked because of the way he said it. I didn’t like how long it took Thanos and his army to dust away. I thought it took away from Tony a little bit.
- The death was. Awful. It was better than I thought it would be, because he did get to whisper “hey babe” to Pepper, hold her hand, smile a little. Peter broke my fucking heart. But I hate the whole “you can rest now”. Pepper would fight for her man to the ends of the earth. It’s clear to me that they wanted to do this for shock and to subvert our expectations. It didn’t need to happen. It really didn’t. Like someone wrote on here, he could have lost his arm and it would have been shocking but we could have still.....saved him. It was so hard to see him like that. I was crying so hard I couldn’t really see much of it honestly lol. But I saw enough. It hurt like hell. It’s one of the worst if not THE worst death I’ve ever witnessed on screen.
- I went kinda catatonic after that. I don’t remember details. I was really mad that they put those words in Tony’s mouth about happy endings and not always getting that even if you want it. Fuck u russos and writers. Was Peter in the room for the message? Idk. He should have been.
- Annoyed they tried to make Thor be funny after that goddamn memorial.
- “proof tony stark has a heart” lord they really had to......hurt me in that way again.
- Uh the Steve ending is a huge, huge disservice to him. He’d never. He’d never lol. That means he ignores all these events he could stop. Yes, Russos, it fucking does mean that. That’s what u did to captain America.
- Like I read on @jess-b-thot’s blog, this movie should have fucking ended with Tony’s face, not Steve’s. It’s Tony’s story. Not Steve’s.
Ummmm when RDJ’s title card came up the whole theater stood and clapped. I was still crying. I cried so loud it was so embarrassing. I don’t really know how I’m feeling now. @whimsicalethnographies has said the word ‘adrift’ and that feels right. It definitely had some moments I enjoyed, but it was not a worthy ending. Tony was spectacular throughout and continually reminded me of why he’s my favorite and why I’ll just MISS him so desperately. Everything he says is memorable, everything he does is important. I want to etch every expression on his face into my heart. He also looked so beautiful and I just cried whenever I saw him because I can’t imagine that beautiful, precious man being gone. It’s a horrifying thought. He’s just so important, the beating heart of this universe, and they killed him for an emotional shock. That’s why I can’t accept it or accept this movie. They shouldn’t have done it. He deserves the ending Steve got. And since this was his last movie, he should have gotten WAY more to do in that last battle. That was a Steve fest. Moral of the story, Tony deserved better. But that was always the story. Tony deserved the world but the world didnt deserve him.
And yes, Iron Dad is canon. Tony would have stayed in that life he made, but he saw that picture and he couldn’t. If there was even a chance of bringing the kid back, he had to take it. Tony’s love for Peter saved the universe. I hope Peter knows that the whole world was saved because of him. Everyone is back because of him. And Tony is gone because he loved Peter enough to change the fabric of time and space to get him back.
They deserved more time.
#endgame spoilers#my thoughts#long post#aka i’m devastated#idk how to BE#and ffh can never address this well enough for me
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