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daydreamingfuel · 7 months

Text

Freak Like Me

Chapter 7

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

AO3 // previous

Y/N has just moved to Hawkins from England with her parents and is starting at the high school in the final term of her senior year. Eddie immediately takes a liking to her and they become fast friends, deciding to take her under his wing and falling to her charms. This is Hawkins however and things are never quite as they seem...

WHOLE FIC TAGS & WARNINGS: gratuitous use of Y/N (I'm not sorry), friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, eventual smut, semi-fix-it-fic, angst, injury, canon dialogue and events used, canon graphic violence, no main character death :)

Chapter Tags & Warnings: Arguing, bickering, banter, mentions of readers dad's job...cause that's not important at all..., the whole gang is in this one so that's fun, platonic Stobin, hints at Stancy, Eddie gets jealous of Steve, slight possessive Eddie, a fuckton of swearing, Dustin is a little shit, as per usual, Steve gets sucked into the Upside Down,

Chapter Word Count - 6.5k

A/N - so this one is up only a week following the last one cause I had a burst of inspiration and confidence in my writing so go me! this is, however, the only good thing to come of this week - my front door lock to my house completely fell apart so I've been dealing with that, and my girlfriend moved back to uni so I'm sad af. But my favourite Dungeon Master always helps.

She was paralysed by fear, déjà vu washing over her as flashes of the argument following Chrissy’s death flickered in her mind. The world blurred around her as she swam after Eddie, who had immediately started to swim back to the boat as soon as Jason dived down to get Patrick's body. Her entire body ached as she moved, catching up with Eddie, who paused momentarily upon hearing her come after him.

“Y/N we need to go, right now, come on!” He called out to her, the panic strong in his shaking voice as he pulled himself back onto the boat.

Still willing her arms to move and her legs to kick as hard as they could, her thoughts spiralled, going through every possible outcome and what she should have done differently before. She had a chance to do it right this time and, whatever the outcome, she would stay by Eddie’s side. Once she was back at back at the boat, and clambered back into it with Eddie’s help, the pair each picked up a paddle to get themselves away.

“We could still plead our case! Jason has seen that you didn’t lay a hand on Patrick - they have no evidence!” She pleaded, in a last-ditch effort as they rowed for their lives towards the shore, but Eddie was practically vibrating in frustration as they pulled themselves and the boat up onto the bank, covered the boat in the tarp and disappeared into the tree line. Eddie tried desperately to call Dustin on the walkie, but the water had seeped into the electrics of the radio and completely broken it.

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie exclaimed, the rage spilling over, “Y/N, come on, it doesn’t matter if there’s no evidence, they’re still going to pin this on me!”

“On us.” She corrected, making him stop in his tracks ahead of her, “I’ve been caught red-handed at the scene of the crime, just like you. If I wasn’t a suspect before, I definitely am now.”

He shook out some of the water from his hair and clothes as he processed how much trouble they were in. Stood between the trees with sirens echoing in the distance, but growing louder with each second, he stared at her in bewilderment, unable to conceal his worsening aggravation, “So what are we supposed to do, huh? Got any bright ideas?”

“Hey!” She snapped, “No need to get all pissy at me, it’s not like I’m the one killing people.”

“No! It’s not you or me - it’s a homicidal wizard from an alternate dimension. Let’s go tell that to the police, and get ourselves thrown in the loony bin in the process!” He snapped back, which made her pause to take a breath.

Y/N closed their eyes in thought, calming herself down somewhat. It was a meaningless fight; she knew that she couldn’t go to the police now or she’d be arrested on sight. They both would. She took a few deep breaths and rubbed at her clothes in a futile attempt to get warm, shaking out her hands afterwards in agitation. “Fine. Fine! You win.” Y/N said sharply, letting the ire seep into her words, “But if we are Bonnie-and-Clyde-ing this shit, I need to get a message to my mum.”

As they walked through the forest, night creeping into the early morning hours, they bickered about how exactly they were to get Y/N’s mum a message. At one point they considered finding their way to the house and leaving her a physical message, or talking to her in person, but quickly decided that it would be too risky for everyone involved. She didn’t want her mum to get in any more trouble. Ultimately, as they found a spot to rest for the night, they agreed that they would find a way to contact the others and ask that they deliver the message to her themselves in the morning. Shaking, Y/N slumped against the giant rock formation that Eddie had led her to and passed out, right as the birds started to sing.

Sunlight splintered through the trees, hitting her face in the morning glow, and soon the light was too much to bear, her eyes fluttering open. She woke to discover that she had been covered in Eddie’s battle vest for warmth at some point during the night and the man himself was nowhere to be seen. Panic settled in the pit of her stomach, twisting horribly as thoughts of her abandonment ran wild in her head. She clutched the vest tightly in her hands as she paced the clearing for any signs of his disappearance. The embellished denim was in desperate need of a was, much like everything they were wearing, but she cradled it to herself nonetheless. Subconsciously, she knew that he would never just abandon it or her, but her mind was too clouded with fear to think straight. A snapping twig alerted her to someone's arrival. She spun on her heels to see Eddie emerging through the trees, a new walkie in his hands.

Receiving his vest to his face as it was thrown at him, Eddie was greeted hostilely by Y/N, “Where the fuck did you go?”

“Good morning to you too, sweetheart. The walkie was drowned, I found us a new one,” He held it up as though it wasn’t already obvious in his hands, “I wasn’t gone that long, I was gonna wake you when I got back.”

“Next time, wake me up before you go.” She mumbled as he settled on the floor next to her, in the shade of the giant boulder formation. Finally cognitive, the fear that fogged her mind subsided somewhat, she was able to take in her surroundings and see where it was Eddie had brought her in the early hours of the day “Where are we, anyway?”

He fiddled with the buttons on the walkie as he spoke, eyes laser-focused on tuning into the right channel, “Skull Rock. It’ll do as a hiding spot for the moment, but it’s kinda infamous as a hook-up spot.”

“Oh really?” She questioned and he hummed in confirmation, tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration, not looking away from the walkie in his hands, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered, but it’s kinda bad timing.” She teased, though her body did heat up at the thought, from both the exhilaration at the wild thoughts running through her head and the jealousy that plagued her at the possibility that he had been here with other people. She quickly pushed away both feelings, it was neither the time nor place to deal with either of those thoughts.

He snorted and allowed a small smirk to grace his lips, but it fell as fast as it appeared, as he finally found the right channel and pressed the call button on the walkie, “Dustin, can you hear me? Wheeler?”

“Eddie. Holy shit. Are you okay?” Dustin's voice immediately answered through the radio, the worry coming through strong, and Y/N sighed in deep relief.

“Nah, man,” Eddie confessed easily, his nerves still rattling him, Dustin's voice after so long causing the man to crack beside her. He ran a stressed hand over his face as he talked, “Pretty… Pretty goddamn far from okay.”

There was a pause on the line briefly before Dustin asked, “Where are you? Is Y/N with you?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” Y/N answered, huddled up to Eddie’s side, and leaning on his shoulder to talk, “we’re at Skull Rock. Do you know it?”

“Uh, yeah. That's near Cornwallis and-” Dustin started but was cut off by Steve.

“Garrett, yeah. I know where that is.” His voice was hushed like he wasn’t right next to the speaker, but standing near Dustin. Knowing he was there, and presumably would be driving, she called out to him, grabbing the walkie.

“Steve wait!”

There was silence for a moment before his voice came back through, “Y/N? What’s up, we don’t have much time.” His voice was dripping with concern and confusion, almost familial in tone – like a stressed dad, so she spoke as concisely as possible.

“Before you come to us, I need you to get a message to my mum.” Before she could be cut off, she continued, “And yes, I know that’s reckless, but I need you to do this for me, please, Steve – tell her to call my dad and his lawyers. And that I’m sorry.”

“Y/N, I’m not sure that’s the best-”

She cut him off, desperate, squeezing the walkie, “Steve, please!”

Her voice echoed slightly, as Eddie pulled the walkie from her hands to grip them tightly, until Dustin’s voice finally responded, “Hold tight. We're coming.” Y/N took a shaking breath, “We're coming.”

The static that followed echoed in the small space beneath the towering rock formation, they would be alone again for a while. Still very much shaken from the previous night, Eddie placed the walkie in the leaves at their feet and re-laced his fingers with Y/N’s. She immediately squeezed back, letting her body melt into his side, head nestled in the crook of his neck, arms wrapping around each other protectively. Eventually, she muttered, “My dad’s gonna kill me before Vecna gets a chance to.”

“Do you think his lawyers will be able to help?” Eddie fretted and Y/N nodded softly, “What does your dad even do anyway? You never talk about him.”

She sighed and sat upright, picking at her clothes that had half dried and were fitting uncomfortably, “He’s not really allowed to talk about his job, I know the project he was working on was pretty big though, had him staying late and stressed all the time. He had barely any patience or attention left for me or mum, but she got to see him more than I did at least. I know it’s something technical and sciencey, for a subsect of the Government - all very secretive.” She flourished her hands dramatically, before letting them fall back into her lap, “I know he’s good at his job, whatever it is. We were told when he was recruited by this Doctor, that they might need to transfer him temporarily without notice and it wouldn’t be negotiable, which put a strain on my parents' relationship - they’ve barely been apart in 20 years.” Finally, she turned her head to look at him, crossing her legs and resting her cheek on her hand propped up on her knee, “But the security incentive helped. Not just financially but the insurance and the lawyers should anything happen, in case of an emergency.”

“And this counts as an emergency?” Eddie asked her, not quite believing in his own importance. He didn’t need to say what he was really asking, as their eyes locked Y/N could see every emotion swimming in the dark chocolate irises – the distress, the anger, the exhaustion, the anguish. But also, the desperate relief, that she cared about him enough to take his side and stay there. To call in reinforcements on his behalf.

She gazed at him, hoping that he would understand, “Of course it does.”

An hour, then two, crawled by. Hungry, tired, and scared, Y/N and Eddie huddled together under the shade of Skull Rock. They barely talked, too preoccupied with listening out for any signs of life nearby. Steve wouldn’t be able to drive his car into the clearing itself, so their rescuers would be coming to them on foot. But the pair were acutely aware that foes as well as friends were on the hunt for them too. At the sounds of bushes rustling and twigs snapping close by, they tensed and scrambled to their feet, hiding behind the rocks and in the trees. However, their instinct to take cover was quickly deemed unnecessary as familiar voices were soon relieving their fear.

“Oh, boom! Bada bing, bada boom.” Steve, confidently strolled into the clearing, Dustin following close behind, “There she is, Henderson. Skull Rock. In your face, man. In your stupid, cocky little face.”

Dustin checked something in his hand, and looked up at the rock formation in bewilderment, “Doesn't make sense.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve rolled his eyes and started lecturing the young teen, “Even with it staring you in the face, you can't admit it. Can't admit you're wrong, you butthead.”

“I concur.” Feeling safer amongst friends, Eddie made his presence known, jumping down from the rock he was hiding behind, “You, Dustin Henderson, are a… total butthead.”

Dustin smiled in relief and immediately went to hug Eddie, “Jesus, we thought you were a goner.”

“Yeah, me too, man.” Eddie hugged back, avoiding his backpack, and looking over his capped head past Steve, to where Y/N was emerging from the trees behind Steve, “Me too.”

Scurrying over, Y/N poked Steve in the side, the yellow fabric of his jumper soft under her hands, “Hey stranger.”

“Hey,” Steve wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into a warm hug, “I knew you staying was a bad idea, but I’m glad you’re safe. You are okay, right?”

“As okay as I can be, Harrington.” She assured him with a half smile.

As Steve and Eddie gave each other a cursory nod and smile, Dustin pulled Y/N away for an embrace themselves, and she squeezed him tightly, rocking from foot to foot gently. They laughed lightly, as they expressed their relief at each other’s safety. Robin, Nancy, Lucas, and Max all wandered into the clearing, making Y/N smile more. Calling Lucas over, she gave him a quick squeeze before greeting the others, checking to see if they too were okay. Max had her headphones hanging around her neck, leading to the Walkman clipped tightly to her jeans, just as it had been the last time she had seen her, a look in her eye telling Y/N that she was too deeply aware of the danger they were all in. Robin in her endearing awkwardness, gave Y/N a wave and Nancy stood next to her, gave a polite ‘hello’ before she handed Y/N a grocery bag.

“Thank you, so much, I’m starving- Ed’s!” Y/N interrupted herself, and Eddie perked up at her call, scampering over to her, “Food.”

Eagerly, Eddie reached out and took some of the stuff that the group had brought for them, quickly taking the six-pack of beer that Nancy had, in fact, bought. As Y/N sat to eat, Steve rummaged through a large backpack, pulled out a Tupperware box and wandered over to sit by her. He handed her the tub with a folded-up piece of paper reading ‘For Y/N’ taped to the lid, “Your mom gave me this to give to you. I haven’t read it, swear, but she was shaking a little when she was writing it so I don’t think you should read it just yet. You know, with everyone around?”

“Yeah…thanks, Steve,” Y/N carefully pulled the note from the box and pocketed it, “How was she? Just, like…generally?”

“She definitely believes in you. She was terrified, of course, but, yeah she, uh…she didn’t really question it when we said what you asked, just thanked us, wrote the note, gave us the food and told us to be safe.” Steve seemed baffled by the interaction, standing up to leave her in peace, but Y/N just nodded and laughed lightly to herself.

Lost in thought, she could only reply, “Classic mum.” Eddie plonked himself hip to hip with Y/N as she opened the tub, finding disposable cutlery inside along with Y/N’s favourite family recipe, which she happily shared with him.

The group at Skull Rock gathered to debrief on the events of the past few days as Eddie and Y/N devoured Mrs Y/L/N’s cooking. Steadily, they told their fugitive friends that they had figured out that Vecna was linked to the infamous Creel murders in the 1950s, all the victims killed in the same manner by a mysterious force that was ultimately pinned on an innocent man, Victor Creel, who had been locked up for decades, driven mad by the memories. The previous night while Eddie and Y/N were hiding and running from Jason, they had been exploring the abandoned Creel house. In turn, Eddie and Y/N explained as best as they could what had happened and what they saw, the friends around them hanging on to every detail trying to piece it together with what they had been up to.

“When we got to the shore, I tried calling you guys, but, uh…my walkie was busted, man. Drenched. So, uh, I did the thing that I do now, apparently.” Eddie gave a cynical smile, “I ran.”

Y/N chuckled dryly, “And I followed. Though we kinda figured, it was that or be arrested for murder.”

Eddie hummed in acknowledgement of their brief spat the night before, before taking a huge gulp of the beer that Nancy had ultimately brought him before passing it to Y/N who too, took a swig.

“Do you know what time this was? The attack?” Nancy asked deep in thought, going over all the details. Y/N had heard about her particular proclivity for the details and piecing things together by Dustin, talking about how good his older friends would be at Dungeons & Dragons if they just gave it a chance.

Eddie nodded, “Yeah, no, I… I know exactly what time it was.” He fiddled with the strap of his busted watch, “My walkie wasn't the only thing that got soaked.” He threw it to her once it was off and she caught it easily.

“9:27,” Nancy confirmed her thoughts to the group.

Robin immediately got the hint and added, “Same time our flashlights went kablooey.”

“Which means what, exactly?” Steve, much like Y/N and Eddie, was still rather confused about the perceived link between the events.

Nancy, putting the pieces together, explained, “That that surge of energy, was Vecna attacking Patrick.” She threw Eddie back his watch, and despite it being broken he put it back on, the feeling of it not being there having weirdly unsettled him. It seemed as though a lightbulb turned on in Y/N’s mind as their combined events of the past few days clicked into place.

“Well, we're one step closer.” Robin said, seeing the silver lining to the situation at hand, “We know how Vecna attacks.”

“And where he attacks from,” Lucus added. A small ray of hope started to shine through the cracks, but wasn’t quite bright enough to wash away all of Y/N’s fear.

Max, having been cursed by Vecna herself, and already had an attack attempted on her, finished the thought, “So now we just need to sneak into his lair in the Upside Down and drive a stake through his heart.”

“If he even has a heart,” Robin added, doubtful, as though she could read Y/N’s mind.

Steve, who was standing by the rock where Y/N was sat, with arms folded across his chest, thought out loud, vaguely confused, “Stake? Is he like a vamp- Is he a vampire?”

Y/N could tell that his question was somewhat genuine, and also felt vague amounts of frustration from the others, so not wanting to add to that, answered, “I think it was a metaphor, but at this point who knows, he could be.” She reached up and squeezed his elbow softly, as she spoke without condescension, which Steve appreciated greatly.

Eddie tried not to pay any mind to how gentle Y/N was with Steve - refusing to let it bruise his ego as he recalled the frequent vulnerable moments she chose to share with him over the recent days - as he suggested, “A bullet should work on him, right?”

“I say we chop his head off.” Lucas offered bluntly, making Y/N nod in agreement.

“I’d say all of the above,” Nancy interjected, trying to stay logical, “but we can't do any of that 'til we find a way into the Upside Down.”

Max, aggravated at how complex the problem they needed to solve was, wished, “We need El to get her powers back.”

“Everything was way easier,” Steve emphasised, then looked down to Y/N and Eddie, “We had this girl. She had superpowers-”

“Superpowers. Yeah, you mentioned her.” Eddie replied, slightly cutting him off as he was distracted, watching Dustin – who had been pacing back and forth behind the little circle the group had formed as they talked, barely paying attention to what had been said. Deeply confused by the young teens' behaviour, Eddie asked, “Hey, uh, Henderson's not, uh, cursed, is he?”

And Steve answered, with an annoyance only known to that of older siblings, at their wit's end with their younger relation, “Cursed? No, no. He's fine. Mental? Absolutely.”

“Boom!” the teen in question finally shouted, turning to the rest of the group at long last, his voice echoing in the trees startling everyone except Steve. As he spoke, he stalked towards his surrogate brother, pointing a knowing finger at him, “Bada… bada… boom. I was right. Skull Rock was north.”

Steve was incredulous, “Seriously? You're serious?” and Dustin hummed in response, nodding with a smug little smirk, so Steve continued, “This is Skull Rock. Okay? You're totally, absolutely, 100% wrong. Right now.”

“Yes. And no.”

“Oh my God,” Steve ran his hands over his face, having to walk away from the boy.

Y/N, holding back a laugh at the brotherly rapport between the two boys, asked in confusion at the sudden outburst, “Dustin, what’s the point of this?”

Immediately, Dustin launched into an almost patronising but still endearing explanation of why he wasn’t wrong, “This compass worked correctly when we left the Wheelers'. Correct when we got in the car on Kerley. But it started to slip the further east we went. Now, it's way off. When I was leading us here, I wasn't wrong. The compass was.”

“So, you're using faulty equipment. You're still wrong.” Steve rebuked.

“Except it isn't faulty.” Dustin insisted before asking, “Lucas, remember what can affect a compass?”

Lucas seemingly understood exactly what his friend was trying to tell them, in a roundabout way, “An electromagnetic field.”

Dustin smiled and confirmed, but Robin asked, needing more explanation, “Sorry. I must've skipped that class.”

“Compasses work through magnetism, they’re built to point towards the magnetic north pole,” Y/N answered, her childhood days of performing little science experiments with her father coming in clutch, and receiving a few surprised looks from her peers as she continued, “But, in the presence of a stronger electromagnetic field, as Lucas said, the needle will deflect towards that power source instead, meaning the compass is technically ‘wrong’.”

“Exactly.” Dustin was practically beaming, “So either there's some super big magnet around here, or…”

“There's a gate.” Lucas realised, and Dustin nodded. A heavy weight settled in the air around them, Y/N feeling as though she should know what that meant with more certainty than she did. As the group theorised how and why this gate may have come to fruition, Eddie nudged Y/N in the side to get her attention. They shared a look that asked if the other was understanding the conversation, only to be met with equal confusion, which made them feel more at ease with their lack of inter-dimensional knowledge. They were broken out of this exchange however by Steve.

“Where are you going?” The question snapped them back to the group, seeing Dustin walking away from everyone, “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!” He paused at Steve's protests, “Eddie's still a wanted man. And now Y/N is a suspect too. We can't just go for a hike in the woods.”

Dustin, clearly agitated made one final plea, “This little steel capsule might be the key to saving Max, Eddie and Y/N.” He turned to the pair on the ground, gesturing to them as he propositioned them, “What say you, Eddie the Banished? Y/N the Exiled?”

“I say you're asking me to follow you into Mordor, which, if I'm totally straight with you, I think is a really bad idea.” Eddie paused, thought for a moment, before looking over at Y/N, “But, uh, the Shire…the Shire is burning.” As Eddie took Y/N's hand and helped her to stand, Dustin jumped in place excitedly, happy that they were going to test his theory. “So, Mordor it is.”

Steve, bewildered by the exchange and still peeved about Dustin's instance to be right, asked nobody in particular, with only Y/N picking up on it, “What is Mordor?”

“It’s the dark land from The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings- incredibly nerdy, don’t worry about it,” Y/N reassured him with a smile.

Once again, and growing fonder, Steve was grateful for Y/N’s patience after the constant teasing from his younger compatriots. “Thanks.” He whispered, before gesturing to the remainder of the food by her feet, “Get your stuff. Let's go.”

Trekking through the woods, playing follow the leader with Dustin - Eddie right behind him with a torch - Y/N found herself hanging back to talk to Steve, who was bringing up the rear of the party to make sure none got lost or left behind. Steve was familiar in some ways, a reminder of her past, with his previous ‘kingly’ reputation for being a bit of a teenage asshole, but Y/N was more deeply fascinated by his seemingly innate desire to protect the group – particularly the younger teens. Listening intently as he explained as briefly as he could, Y/N quickly learned that, much like herself, he had been caught up in the supernatural by accident, time and time again. He had only been trying to apologise to Jonathan when the Demogorgon attacked the Byers house, he didn’t intend to fight it off with a nailed baseball bat. And win. He had only been bringing Nancy flowers when he was roped into hunting a baby Demogorgon with Dustin, not knowing he would have to fight off an army of them to protect Dustin, Max, and Lucas. Of which he was successful. And he had just been working with Robin, “slinging ice cream”, when Dustin came to him with a weird message he had picked up – it definitely wasn’t the plan to be trapped in a secret Russian base and tortured, whilst still in uniform. Then live to tell the tale. Every time, he fought and tried to protect those around him, regardless of his own safety and how insane the situation was. Y/N decided that not only did she like Steve, but she deeply respected him.

In turn, she reminisced about her family and life back in England, glossing over the trauma quickly before circling back to the past few months since the move. Just as she was starting to gush about how Eddie and Hellfire had made her feel so welcomed, and why the stigma was so frustrating, they came to a standstill. Taking in their surroundings, Y/N felt a cold chill run down her spine.

“Oh, man. You gotta be shitting me.” Steve huffed and Y/N reciprocated the feeling.

“Yeah.” Y/N scoffed humourlessly, “I thought these woods were familiar.”

The sun had set whilst they were walking, and the moon high in the sky was once again reflecting on the soft waves of water in Lovers Lake. Y/N, glared at the water, trying silently to control her breathing so as to not alert the others of her rising panic, though it seemed her nerves were felt as Eddie moved to stand beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist, and pulling her into his side.

Tuning back into the conversation, she heard Nancy offer up a theory, “Whenever the Demogorgon attacked, it always left an opening. Maybe Vecna's the same way.”

“Yeah, only one way to find out,” Steve said conclusively, then turned to Y/N and Eddie where they were huddled together and asked where they had stashed the boat. With Y/N leading the way, they traipsed along the bank until they found the boat, haphazardly covered in the tree line. Pulling it off, they looked at the available seating, then at each other in confirmation of shared ideas. The older teens and young adults of the group quickly realised it would be up to them to test Dustin’s theory.

Steve and Eddie bickered slightly as they got the boat half in the water before each offering a hand to Robin to help her into the boat. Instead, she elected to use their heads for support as she stepped into the small vessel, thanking them as she passed. Eddie then stood up as Steve kept the boat grounded, both again offering their hands to Nancy as she too stepped in, though she did not notice Steve's offer, only taking Eddie’s hand.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie then gave a saccharine smile as he flourished his hand out to Y/N, trying to ease her obvious panic with theatricality.

She took his hand graciously and winked as she passed him, “Thanks, honey.”

Dustin, who had been watching, gagged, “You two make me sick,” he muttered to himself as he tried to gain access to the boat, but was very quickly stopped by Eddie.

“Hey, hey, hey, you trying to sink us?” He pushed Dustin back to land with a hand on the forehead, “This thing holds four people tops, okay?” Eddie didn’t want to upset Dustin or patronise him, but he also wanted him safe.

Seeing Eddie’s tactic to keep the children on land, Nancy assured him, “It's better this way, okay? You guys stay here with Max. Keep an eye out for trouble.”

“You keep an eye out.” Dustin snapped back at her, “It's my goddamn theory.”

Robin piped up, trying to establish some form of authority, “You heard Nance.”

“Who put her in charge?”

“I did.”

Nancy held her hand out to Dustin, “Compass.” He huffs in a small tantrum for a moment before handing it to her, with Nancy passing it to Eddie to hold as she got resettled on the bench. Once the four on the boat were sat somewhat comfortably, Steve stood up, threw Dustin's backpack at him, and pushed off from the bank, taking his seat next to Nancy as Robin and Eddie started to row.

“You said four!” Dustin called out, annoyed.

Steve whisper-shouts “Sorry,” back at him as they drifted further from the bank.

“Bedtime at nine, kiddos,” Robin shouted, baiting those still on land. Dustin flipped her off as Max rolled her eyes, Lucas just watched in vague amusement, “Miss you already!”

The row out to the middle of the lake was slow but steady, as Nancy watched the compass to make sure they were still heading in the right direction. Once they were far away enough from the shore that the young teens who stood on the bank looked like toddlers, Nancy called out for them to slow down. Stopping their rowing, the group turned to look at Nancy and the compass in her hands, which was flicking back and forth crazily.

Their stunned silence was interrupted by Dustin over the walkie, “Guys, what's going on? Come on, talk to me. What's going on?”

“Uh, Dustin, your compass has gone from kinda wonky to wonky with a capital ‘aah!’” Robin, hesitantly answered, awestruck.

Y/N emphasised, “It’s like the needle doesn’t know where to point - like it’s overwhelmed with electromagnetic energy. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

As Y/N talked, Steve started taking off his shoes and socks, confounding his friends in the boat. When questioned by a concerned Nancy, he replied, with a certain authority, “Somebody's gotta go down and check this out. Unless one of you four can top being a Hawkins High swim co-captain and a certified lifeguard for three years, then… it's gotta be me. No complaints, all right?”

“Hey, I'm not complaining,” Eddie reassured him, “I do not wanna go down there.”

Y/N nodded in agreement, peeking over the edge of the boat to stare at the water and shuddering, “Yeah, I’ve already been in this lake once in the last 24 hours, I’m not exactly desperate to do it again.”

Eddie reached into his pocket and pulled out a shopping bag with only a carton of cigarettes and a lighter in it, and emptied it into his lap as Steve stood up and took off his jumper, revealing his toned and hairy chest. Y/N glanced up at him from the movement, looking away before registering the sight. Once she did, her eyes widened slightly as she did a small double-take, and slowly blinked to fully process it. Having clocked the cogs turning in Y/N’s head, Eddie cleared his throat to snap her out of it, possessiveness bubbling up under his skin. He raised an eyebrow at her in question, which she vehemently ignored, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, and just shrugged in response. Nancy, however, was outright staring in awe at Steve’s body, despite having a boyfriend herself, which only Robin noticed, though she said nothing, smiling to herself instead.

Eddie, slightly aggravated, wrapped the now empty shopping bag around the torch he had been carrying through the woods and handed it to Steve, “Hey. Good luck.”

Steve took the not mostly waterproofed torch, looking over his shoulder at him, the light hitting his handsome features just right, eyes intense and focused, “Thanks.”

‘Damn.’

‘Wait, are you attracted to Steve?’

‘No…surely not.’

Slightly hating how the moonlight making Steve look ethereal made her feel, her heartbeat picking up somewhat, she looked over at Eddie as a welcome distraction. And though she should have expected it, Y/N shocked herself with how it didn’t help much with her heart rate, but instead increased it. Eddie had a cigarette hanging from his lips, the light reflecting on the water casting a beautiful shadow over his cheekbones and jawline. Y/N reached for the lighter in his hand and ignited the flame, reaching up slightly so he’d have to lean down to her if he wanted his cigarette lit. The glow of the fire shone in his eyes as he stared at her through it.

“Gross.” The moment was broken by Robin as she took the cigarette from Eddie's lips and threw it into the lake. In sync, Eddie and Y/N turned their heads to stare at her, mystified. As her eyes locked onto Robins, she tried to send a telepathic ‘what the fuck dude?’ her way and knew she had succeeded when Robin rolled her eyes with a small, victorious smirk.

Steve stood at the edge of the boat, breathing steadily and mentally preparing himself to dive down to the lakebed.

“Steve?” Nancy called softly, making him turn his head to look down at her, “Be careful.”

An apprehensive look flashed in his eyes, almost like guilt, as their eyes locked, but he nodded nonetheless and dove gracefully into the dark water. They sat in tense silence as Steve swam further and further down, with Nancy counting the seconds on her watch to make sure that he wasn’t submerged for too long.

Robin, growing more and more agitated, asked, “Where we at, Wheeler?”

“Closing in on a minute.” She replied, not taking her eyes off the watch.

Robin nodded, “Okay.” She made a noise of discomfort feigning ambivalence, obviously very worried about her friend. Y/N offered a hand for Robin to squeeze, which she grasped tightly.

Just as Eddie cleared his throat, uncomfortable in the silence, it was broken completely when the water gushed loudly as Steve resurfaced, making everyone on the boat exclaim in surprise, even more surprised when Steve said, “I found it.” He panted through his confirmation when Robin asked for it, leaning on the side of the boat as Nancy pulled wet strands of hair from his forehead with deep care.

“Dustin, you are a goddamn Einstein.” Robin said excitedly into the walkie, “Steve found the gate, we have a way to Vecna.”

“It's pretty wild.” Steve said through pants, still trying to catch his breath, arms holding him up on the edge of the boat, “It's more a snack-size gate than the mama gate, but still, it's pretty damn big.”

Right as he stopped speaking, he dropped off the side of the boat momentarily, like something was pulling him down. Everyone lurched forward in shock, but they all regained composure quickly and waited with bated breath to ensure he was okay and wouldn’t happen again. For a moment all was calm as they scanned the water before Steve was fully dragged under without a second to react. The group dissolved into chaos, all shouting after Steve, but it was pointless. He was unreachable.

“No! No!” Eddie protested, deeply stressed, “What the hell was that man?”

Robin was intensely distressed, staring back and forth between the dark water and Nancy beside her, leaning over the edge of the boat “Nancy, really, what happened?”

Nancy, however, ignored all questions and stood up, determined to go in after Steve, much to everyone else's panic. At the sounds of protests, Nancy could only tell them to wait where they were before diving in and swimming down to find Steve.

“Fucking hell!” Y/N cursed loudly, shaking, and running her hands up and down her temples as Eddie loudly swore to himself. Unbeknownst to them both, Robin quietly and carefully sat backwards on the edge of the boat, preparing herself to search the lake herself.

“No, no, no, no, no, no.” Eddie faced her, hands held out to stop her if he had to, “What are you doing? She said wait.”

Robin stared back at him, dismissively, her mind already made up, “Yeah, I heard her.”

“She's in charge,” Eddie tried, grasping at flimsy straws.

Robin scoffed and shook her head, “Are you kidding me?”

Y/N placed a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, “Eds she was bullshitting, and you know it. Nobody’s in charge.” Her voice was trembling slightly, barely more than a frustrated whimper.

“Don't you go. Don't you—” Despite his thinly veiled threats, Robin fully ignored Eddie and fell backwards off the edge of the boat and into the water.

Eddie immediately stood up in anger and fear, “Goddamn it! Son of a bitch!” he paced the small space of the boat as much as he could, staring at the water and contemplating what fate was worse, “Oh, this is so stupid.”

“This is really fucking stupid,” Y/N could only agree.

‘Don’t be a pussy.’

‘I’m definitely gonna regret this.’

In his blind panic, Eddie didn’t notice the cogs turning in Y/N’s mind until it was too late. She was standing, prepared to dive. “Y/N! No, not you too. Sweetheart, please!” But she was gone with a loud splash, “Shit!”

Swearing profusely as he questioned his own existence, Eddie’s mind was filled with paralysing fear. Thoughts of her drowning, being pulled apart, sucked into an alternate hellish dimension, tortured, and broken, flashed through his raging mind. Before he could register his own actions, Eddie dove beneath the water, his only tether to reality being the hope that she was still alive.

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #stranger things vol 2 #reader insert #freak like me #leaf writes

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bedlamsbard · 3 years

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Writing tag game -- tagged by @lessattitudemorealtitude

how many works do you have on Ao3?

Discounting podfic on which I’m listed as a co-author, 24. My concept writing doesn’t go to AO3 and the vast majority of my Narnia fic was never cross-posted there. (Or reposted there, actually, I think most of it pre-dates the AO3.)

what’s your total Ao3 word count?

1,050,810. oh, huh, I didn’t actually realize I’d passed the one million word mark (probably with Crown).

what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

all of these ended up being Star Wars, which is not a huge surprise. Morning will probably reach Dirt in the next couple of updates, I’d guess.

Immutable, or, Five Times Obi-Wan Kenobi Compromised His Jedi Ethics for Anakin Skywalker -- this is not the oldest Star Wars fic on there, but I think it’s the second oldest. people just really like 5 times fic.

Wake the Storm - did you know that when I started Wake I assumed it was a very niche trope in what was, at the time, a pretty dead fandom? the kudos count on Wake actually outnumbers Gambit by more than 1600 kudos, so the number of people who go from Wake to Gambit is a lot lower than you might think.

Queen's Gambit - a significantly lower kudos count than Wake or Immutable. Gambit’s such a weirdo of a story, tbh, I can’t be surprised by anything about Gambit anymore.

On the Edge of the Devil's Backbone - about 600 kudos less than Gambit, so less difference between Gambit and Backbone than between Wake and Gambit.

Dirt in the Machine - another older fic. I’d rewrite this one if I cared enough to do so, because it’s not at my current standards (Immutable isn’t either, for that matter) and I kind of wince every time I get comments on it. this is the first one of the top five to have below 1K kudos.

do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I’ll usually respond to direct questions, but I very, very seldom respond to comments in general. This is an old standing policy of mine that’s now more than a decade old -- it used to be I’d wait twenty-four hours before responding, then I’d respond right before the next chapter went up, and for a while I’d only respond to comments on the first few chapters of a story. Now I just mostly do not. The reasons for this are: (1) many, many years ago, I lost my temper pretty badly at a comment on a fic of mine (this was pre-AO3, this was back in my LJ days), and after that I moved to the “wait twenty-four hours” response so I didn’t say anything without thinking about it, (2) I do go back and reread comments but I hate rereading my own responses, (3) I prefer to know the comments numbers on my fic are all from actual comments and not from me saying “thanks for reading!”, (4) I can’t take that kind of responsibility for answering every single comment, man.

what’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Of stuff I’ve written in the past ten years? (I can’t really remember before that.) Maybe Backbone, because it ends on that pretty upbeat “yay team we’re going to be rebels now!” note. or Devil’s in the Details (other side part 1), though I don’t really want to consider it a finished fic even though it’s technically finished; it has another “yay team we’re back together (minus Ezra)” ending. I tend to end on complicated and reasonably open endings, not like...happy endings.

what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

probably Gambit for the “everything is super fucked up” factor and also the fact that I never wrote the sequel. plus it ended with the entire Wake trio split up in a whole new universe, plus back in the Gambitverse Amidala not able to go back to Naboo, Ahsoka shunned, Palpatine’s new empire, Rex trapped in the Gambitverse, etc.

do you write crossovers?

I did in my Narnia days. I don’t anymore. Working in widespread fandoms like Star Wars or the MCU is basically like writing crossover fic within the same universe, anyway.

have you ever received hate on a fic?

*hysterical laughter*

...yes. yes I have. it’s the reason every time I get a comment notification on Gambit or Wake I freeze in absolute terror. people HATE Wake and Gambit. I hate to say never, but I will probably never write those characters or in that series again.

do you write smut? if so, what kind?

not really? I’ve done relatively non-explicit sex but it’s not something I’m super comfortable writing, especially in recent years. I’m much more likely to do a fade to black.

have you ever had a fic stolen?

I think Gambit got scraped once when it was still in progress and my response was something along the lines of “good luck, bro,” given the whole “still in progress” thing.

have you ever had a fic translated?

I’ve gotten a couple of translation requests but I can’t recall if anything’s ever been translated. (Or if I responded to them...I know a few I forgot to respond.)

have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, back in my Narnia days. Some SW concept writing and that ended so badly that I’ll never co-write again.

what’s your all-time favourite ship?

Kanan/Hera, of course!

what’s a wip that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

gods, Dust in the Air, my Narnia Last Battle AU. Back when I started it in 2008 or so I didn’t have the self-control or discipline I do now, even if I had a lot of the worldbuilding ability and the ability to conceive of if not execute long plot arcs, and I broke off more than I could chew. If I ever went back to it I’d probably have to do a complete rewrite and it has the unique problem among my WIPs of being the last major fic I wrote in present tense -- I now write exclusively in past tense. The bones of the story are good, I’d just have to go back to the bones and not just pick up where I left off.

what are your writing strengths?

Plot, worldbuilding/environment, action. I also do genuinely think I’m very good at characterization too, but I think they’re all inter-related. (Except the action, that’s me alone. I love writing action and I generally get a lot of compliments on my action scenes.) look, I know it’s conceited, but I’m good and I know I’m good, and I’m good in a pretty well-rounded way for the genre I write.

what are your writing weaknesses?

brevity. can’t do it.

honestly, there are others, but I don’t write stories where they’d come up. I think I have a tendency to get to bogged down in dialogue in a way that I’ve never quite solved. I also let my emotions take over too much and not in the good fannish way, in the “I’m having a fucked up relationship with canon or fandom and it’s affecting my ability to work” way.

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

please stop having your Asgardians speak Latin for magic, man, that’s my feeling on it.

okay, my feelings on it for me -- I’ve sprinkled bits and pieces of Huttese, Twi’leki, and tee-tiny bits of other stuff here and there in fic. I’d not be comfortable doing more than that because the only other language that I really feel comfortable doing anything significant in is Latin, and even then I’d hesitate. also, like, Latin! not a language that comes up in the fandoms I write in. even then, like -- any extended dialogue should be intelligible to the audience, and I don’t expect my audience to be able read anything other than English; I’d rather just say “they switched to Twi’leki to say” or something similar.

what was the first fandom you wrote for?

like, online? Harry Potter. for things that I didn’t post online because I didn’t know what fic was yet? probably either The 10th Kingdom or The Mummy.

what’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

On the Edge of the Devil’s Backbone. I think it’s the best thing I’ve ever written, I think it’s the most tightly plotted, I think it’s got the best worldbuilding, I think it’s remarkably consistent thematically, and it was, at the time, a fic that I was very devoted to finishing or dying trying, because I was going through it at the time and some of it was connected to the fic.

I don’t tag people, but please go for if you want!

#meme response

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anime-and-manga-rants · 3 years

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The Problem with The Promised Neverland’s First Episode (Part 2 of 2)

Once again, let’s start with The Promised Neverland. This time, let’s move on from the opening scene and get further into the first episode (and chapter).

In both the anime and the manga, we get Ray asking Emma: “How old are you again? Five?”

It’s an embarrassingly obvious tactic to get Emma to reveal her age, along with the fact that she’s the same age as Ray and Norman, as she responds with: “I’m eleven! Just like the two of you!”

This is especially stupid considering the fact that the manga already has Emma narrating certain information about the ‘orphanage.’ Here’s one example in the text framed by boxes rather than speech bubbles:

Now, this is more my opinion, but I think narrating basic information in this way is far superior to the awkward dialogue that’s produced when characters are info-dumping for the audience’s sake. At least, in the case of narration like the kind seen in the manga, there’s nothing disrupting the flow of the story. We’re still told rather than shown, which should be avoided in most cases (like this one), but it’s better than blatantly forcing the exposition and ruining the believability of the story.

If the anime couldn’t have done any better, then at least just give us the narration. It wouldn’t interrupt the storytelling nearly as much, and while it’s still undesirable, I think it’s better than telling through dialogue. With narration, the writer is being upfront about his telling, while telling through dialogue is a poor attempt to hide the fact that he’s telling. And it fails. Because everyone sees through it. Whether you’ve heard “show don’t tell” before or not, know how to use it in storytelling or not, it doesn’t matter. The dialogue’s still just... bad.

And, of course, we can’t forget the testing scene:

If the test is going to tell us their ages anyway, why not just use that? It’d be a creative and effective way of showing the audience that Emma, Ray, and Norman are all eleven. All they’d have to do was have the robotic voice of the test say their names and ages while cutting to that person’s face. And, if the anime absolutely needed us to know that they were the oldest, why not have the test call out the names of the children whose character designs appear to be of a similar age? (We can merely look and see that characters like Conny or Phil aren’t as old as Emma, Norman, or Ray.) Or, at the very least, just add the narration that was a part of the manga’s first chapter? Even that would be better than what we get.

Overall, Ray’s question — or rather Emma’s response, as the question itself isn’t unnatural — is just yet another way that TPN fails to follow one of the most basic writing rules in existence. Still, this is only a little grievance I wanted to bring up, solely because it felt wrong to leave it out. Now, however, let’s get into the main point of Part 2.

…

Back to the test scene in the anime. (In the manga, what I’m about to discuss occurs after they play their game of tag, but it’s nearly word-for-word, so this argument holds true for both.)

After they take their test, and Isabella announces that Emma, Ray, and Norman had gotten perfect scores, the others express their amazement. This is all well and good — and the anime should’ve left it at that. It would demonstrate that the three were smarter than the rest, especially when highlighted by the fact that the other kids were impressed to hear Thoma say he might’ve gotten half right. (In the manga, a few of the test questions are shown, and some of them are just evil. Eleven-year-olds solving for a derived equation in 10 seconds? Getting full marks is insanely impressive when we’ve seen some of the questions, so why not show it in the anime?)

Yes, what I just mentioned would only demonstrate that they’re smart. But that’s all that this scene needs to demonstrate. It’s short enough that it doesn’t need to give us any more information, as we’ve still got plenty of time in the episode to learn other vital information necessary for understanding the plot.

It’s when this scene continues, however, that we start to see a real problem.

After they hear their scores, the kids vocalize, solely for the sake of the audience, the basic character descriptions of Emma, Ray, and Norman. They say: “Those three are different, huh? Norman is a genius who has the best brains. And Ray, an intellect who can compete against Norman’s genius. Emma has amazing athletic skills, and her learning ability allows her to stay close to the other two.”

It’s quite the way to take some of the fun out of learning about the characters, isn’t it?

It’s just… why does the anime (and manga) find it necessary to include this? Not only will we probably not remember half of it — which is for the best — but it lessens the impact of us learning about the characters ourselves.

If the characters truly are these things, we’ll see that through their actions and dialogue (which would show their deductive reasoning skills). After all, they are the ones who come up with the escape plan despite all the trials thrown at them. When we see this, we can deduce for ourselves that these kids are not only book-smart (which we learn from their perfect scores) but street-smart, able to solve issues that most eleven-year-olds would never be capable of. Through this alone, we learn most of the information that was told to us during the test scene. And Emma’s athletic skills are demonstrated reasonably well during their game of tag. (If that scene were edited slightly, it would be obvious that Emma is superior to the others in terms of athletic ability. This is a fault in the author’s scene construction.)

And we can’t forget the fact that their younger peers are saying this about them. Even if they knew these things subconsciously, what child would say something like this? They’re all smart, as they’re all high-grade meat, but they’re still kids. Kids don’t tend to break out into character analyses about their friends, especially not without any prompting.

So what’s the point of this telling?

Telling doesn’t serve any purpose, as we won’t believe it until we see it. If Emma, Ray, and Norman failed in their escape attempt because they weren’t smart enough, we wouldn’t believe the telling. But if their smarts are proven through their actions, than what point does the telling serve? Nothing. The only thing it accomplishes is forcing more unnatural dialogue that reminds the audience that they’re watching a show, not living in a story. And that sucks.

(Telling is often a sign of laziness or ineptitude, whether that ineptitude is truly there or the author simply believes they are inept at crafting a good scene. After all, it wouldn’t be needed if the author knew for certain that they had created situations to move the plot along while simultaneously demonstrating the characteristics of his three main characters. This telling could be a sign that TPN’s writer, Kaiu Shirai, didn’t trust himself to accurately portray his characters’ traits. Or maybe he just believed the audience was too unintelligent to understand his characters as he wanted them to be perceived.)

Let’s compare this scene to Attack on Titan’s first episode, where we learn quite a bit about Eren’s personality as Isayama introduces us to the story. All without telling anything about Eren, too.

Let’s use this scene:

Isayama wrote this scene for a reason, and that reason was to reveal Eren’s core beliefs, and he does this through showing. (We’ll have to ignore the telling about Eren’s father and his success as a doctor. Unfortunately, not even Isayama avoided convenient telling completely. But at least the information wasn’t particularly relevant to the story, so it didn’t ruin much other than the flow of the story.)

You see, when Hannes asks why he would ever need to be prepared for a fight, Eren responds with: “If they breached the walls and entered the city!” When Hannes brushes Eren off, Eren yells, telling him to stop calling himself a part of the Garrison and become a member of the Wall Repair Corps. And when Hannes reasons that they’re slacking off is a good thing because it means everyone is safe, Eren says: “Even if we can never leave these walls for our entire lives, as long as we eat and sleep, we’ll survive… but that just makes us like cattle!”

Not only do his words give us a little more information about what threat humanity is up against, but they also reveal so much about Eren’s personality, goals, and beliefs. We learn that he hates being caged in the walls, hates people who are satisfied with living in a cage, wants to go outside, and values living rather than just surviving. All through dialogue that flows and doesn’t slap the watcher in the face with its lack of tact.

Now, this:

A little later, we learn that Eren’s willing to fight for his freedom, as he admits to wanting to join the Survey Corps. And he’s extremely dedicated, we learn, not because the show narrates to us that he’s dedicated (like TPN might do) but because he sees the horrors of the Survey Corps when they return from their mission and yet still wants to join them. After all, when Mikasa tells his parents that he wants to join their ranks, all Eren says is: “I told you not to tell them!” Throughout the rest of the episode, he makes absolutely no indication that he no longer wants to join them. In fact, he acts like he hasn’t been swayed in the slightest.

Not a single thing I’ve just mentioned can be considered telling. No, it’s all showing through dialogue that isn’t forced in any way, shape, or form, and that’s what makes it work. From Eren’s anger to his dialogue to his attitude towards the world and people around him, we learn everything we need to know about our main character without Isayama needing to tell us. Because Isayama does tell us. He just does it through showing, unlike TPN.

And that is the problem with the first episode of The Promised Neverland— while the episode could have been constructed to show everything that the audience needs to know, it wasn’t, and therefore it must rely on unrealistic, forced dialogue that ejects the audience out of the story it’s trying to submerse us in.

#the promised neverland #tpn #tpn emma #tpn ray #tpn norman #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #eren yeager #anime analysis #manga analysis #tpn manga

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woulddieforperrytheplatypus · 3 years

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Perry being relocated is sad, but it could lead to some bonding moments between Phineas and Heinz should they interact again. Phineas tells Heinz that it really started to sink in that he shouldn't have thrown away the pamphlet; if he had actually heard Perry out, maybe they could've kept the whole thing a secret from OWCA. Heinz comforts him and tells him it's not his fault; in hindsight, he shouldn't have roped some random kids into his scheme, but Phineas tells him it's not his fault either.

in reference to this post

WAIT THAT’S ACTUALLY SO CUTE??? oh man do I have Some Ideas™ for this

First of all, I have a feeling they’d all kinda stay away from each other for a while. I think Phineas would just be too sad to see anyone, and he’d rather spend his time moping with Ferb. Heinz wouldn’t even know where to find them anyway, but he’d probably want to stay away from them because he’d just feel really fucking guilty. I mean, it was Heinz that built the other-dimensionator. It was Heinz that let them come with him. There is no way he wouldn’t feel solely responsible not just for himself losing his nemesis, but these kids losing their pet, and that’s not even getting into the guilt I’m sure he’d feel over letting his doppelganger attempt to have them yeeted across the room or fed to the goozim (until, of course, he was also sentenced to a game of Poke the Goozim With A Stick).

But after a few days of moping around the penthouse and attempting to build things that he gives up on halfway through, there’s a knock on the door. His first thought is that it must be his weekend with Vanessa (already? how did that happen?) and he’s like :/ because he has to explain to her that he accidentally had Perry relocated literally just hours after finding out that the guy had a whole family that he never even knew about. But then he opens the door and it’s Phineas standing there, and heinz.exe stops working for a few seconds because why is this child standing outside his penthouse?

And Phineas has obviously been crying but he’s not right now, and he just looks up at Heinz with the saddest puppy dog eyes and asks, “Can I come in?” and there’s absolutely no way Heinz can say no to him,

Now, Heinz is obviously very confused because there’s really no reason for this kid not to hate his guts, so he has to ask what tf Phineas is doing here. Phineas just kinda shrugs and sniffles real quick, and Heinz has read Perry’s body language enough that he can kind of tell what people are thinking even if they won’t say it, so he sighs and just says something like, “You miss him, too, huh?” and Phineas nods and then starts fucking sobbing, and poor Heinz hasn’t had t comfort a crying child in years, so he has no idea what to do.

So Heinz gestures to the couch, and he’s like, “... you wanna sit?” and Phineas just looks at it for a second and Heinz quickly adds, “it’s not the same one he peed on,” and Phineas doesn’t stop crying but he does crack a smile before he sits down. Heinz sits down, too, and he asks why Phineas is there again, because while his new couch is very comfortable -- perks of not buying new inator parts and new doors every day; he could afford a very luxurious couch -- he is decently sure Phineas did not come here to try out his couch.

And Phineas takes a minute to compose himself, and then he says something like, “I was just starting to get to know this other side of him, and now he’s gone” except like phrased so it’s sadder idk it’s hard to write dialogue if I’m not actually writing something in fanfic form lmao.

Heinz just kinda nods because he doesn’t necessarily relate -- sure, finding out Perry had a family was surprising, but the difference between Agent P with his family and the Perry the Platypus that Heinz knows isn’t anywhere near as stark as the difference between Agent P and the Perry that Heinz can sort of picture at home -- he does relate to wishing he had had the time to learn more about him before he had to leave.

Then Phineas asks, “What was he like?” and it all kinda falls into place. He came here to get to know the side of Perry that he didn’t really get to see; the side that Heinz knows better than anyone, because he’s seen both the friend and foe aspects (often on the same day, when they’d go hang out after work). So Heinz starts talking and talking and talking, and it’s oddly comforting because this is what he used to do with Perry the Platypus and he hasn’t really gotten to monologue since Perry left and he’d forgotten how therapeutic it was. It’s not the same, obviously, but seeing Phineas’s reactions to his stories is heartwarming in a different way.

And then maybe Phineas apologizes, and Heinz is like ??? because if anyone should be apologizing, it should be him -- and he was getting there; he was just a little wrapped up in happier times -- and Phineas explains the whole thing with the pamphlet and the fact that he basically ignored everything Perry tried to tell him (and he doesn’t say it, but hearing Heinz talk about Perry and what he thought and what he felt just makes it worse because it means Heinz (his nemesis!!!) was willing to listen to him and he wasn’t). And Heinz is like “Dude, literally shut the fuck up because this was all my bad” (but, you know, not like that) and they talk about that for a lil bit and Heinz finally says, “You know what? We both messed this up equally. We can share the blame, how ‘bout that?” and again, Phineas doesn’t say it, but that makes him feel better, too, because everyone else has been telling him to stop blaming himself. Even Ferb said it, as if Ferb wasn’t completely level-headed the entire time. If Perry had handed Ferb the pamphlet, he would have read it and he would have figured out what Perry was getting at, and then Phineas wouldn’t have wasted so much of their last few hours together just being angry at him. This is the first time someone has been real with him about it, and it means a lot.

And that, my friends, is the story of the newly-formed unbreakable bond between Phineas Flynn and Heinz Doofenshmirtz :,)

I have a sneaking suspicion that part of the reason you sent this was that you know that I’m a complete sucker for a good Phineas/Heinz (non-romantic) relationship, but I have to admit, the more I think about this, the more I feel like this would work out better with Heinz and Ferb. I know that’s probably really weird from someone who’s literally written a whole tumblr essay about how Phineas and Heinz are basically the same person (casual promo is casual), but I was actually just talking to revenblue on ao3 the other day (I would tag his tumblr instead but a) I don’t want him to feel compelled to read all my bullshit and b) I want to bless any Perryshmirtz fans out there who may not have read his fics yet because he is The Perryshmirtz Writer™) about how Heinz would get along with the boys, and I realized that Ferb and Heinz would actually get along really well in a different sense?

The charm of Phineas and Heinz’s potential friendship has always been that it would be someone to excitedly talk to about building and inventing and that they’d connect through excited conversations that they can’t have with anyone else. Sure, Phineas can talk to Ferb about it and Heinz can talk to Perry about it, but neither of them talk back very much, so putting two excitable blabbermouths together would be fantastic.

But Heinz and Ferb would get along really well because Heinz would actually listen to him. He’s so used to hanging out with Perry that he can pick up on silent cues with no problem -- something that would be really useful when hanging out with a mostly nonverbal kid. As much as it looks like Ferb might get that from Phineas already, it looks more to me like Phineas just assumes they’re on the same page and Ferb just roles with it. I’d go more in depth but a) it’s almost one in the morning and I have an 8:30 class tomorrow and b) this post is already so much longer than it needed to be, but tl;dr: This would be a great way for Heinz and Ferb to bond because it would give Heinz the chance to monologue and infodump about his best friend at the same time it gives Ferb the chance to both learn more about Perry and to talk to someone who’s going to pay attention to his own thoughts and feelings with no prompting.

#anon: so what if --#me: WRITEWRITEWRITEWRITEWRITEWRITEWRITE #im sorry i got a little carried away here #i might actually write this as a one-shot separate from the potential seattle fic just for kicks but idk #im really bad at writing ferb so i would probably attempt it with phineas if i did #anyways its late (early?) and i need to take a shower whoops bai #look i have an ask #pnf

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a-dorin · 4 years

Text

under the same stars | darth maul

word count: 2,406

warnings: cursing

a/n: hi! this was something i have been wanting to do for a looonnnggg time. sorry if my writing is poor in the first chapter, the set-up is always the hardest part. a lot of the plot in this chapter is driven by the dialogue. this is chapter one (more will come in the future if it does well!)

let me know if you want to be tagged!

summary: august moor, a padawan in training under the jedi master qui-gon, ponders the meaning of the title jedi. she finds herself in a mysterious encounter with none other than the sith lord, darth maul.

the sun dipped below the horizon, casting an orange glow over coruscant. a young woman strolled through a meadow, grateful for the summer breeze as it rolled through the grass. the surrounding forest was a variety of green hues, the trees lush with life. the moon was high in the sky, waxing towards a full moon. soon, the stars would be out, dancing across the night. soon, the shades of lilac, burgundy, cyan, and tangerine would be replaced by a rich navy blue.

the stars glittered above, beginning to dot the sky. the girl's lips curved into a smile as her fingertips brushed the blades, contentment flooding her senses. the girl felt as ease, her mind relaxed. there was nothing more she loved than stargazing after an exhausting day of training.

"where do you think you're running off to?" a voice called out in the dusk.

the girl turned, her brows furrowed, "and who do you think you are, obi-wan kenobi? you are not my master."

"i am aware," the padawan chuckled, "you're never one to do things like this. is there something on your mind?"

"i can't have fun?" the girl teased, nudging obi-wan.

"well," a light blush tinged obi-wan's cheeks, "i didn't mean to come off as rude. my deepest apologies to you, august.

august stifled a giggle, "there's no need for such formalities here, obi-wan. we're not in font of the jedi council, nor master qui-gon."

a shy smile formed on the padawan's lips as he admired august momentarily. her eyes were focused on the stars, as they were beginning to twinkle as the sky transitioned to a deep shade of blue. the moon was full, casting a glow on their surroundings. the light softened her features, yet it did not take away from her beauty.

her brunette hair was woven into an intricate half-down, half-up style. free strands of hair swayed along with the breeze, her blue eyes glimmering. obi-wan swallowed thickly, careful not to stare a second longer. her eyes shifted, falling on the padawan.

"you're quiet tonight. is there something on your mind?"

"no," obi-wan shook his head, "i believe i am just a little spent from today's training."

"qui-gon did a number on you, huh?" august smirked, shooting obi-wan a wink.

obi-wan scoffed, folding his arms across his chest, "we trained in the same temple today, if you don't remember."

august laughed once more, falling to the cool grass. she gazed the stars, a wisftul smile painting her features, "are you going to stargaze with me or are you going to run back to the temple and inform master qui-gon that i snuck off?"

the padawan laid in the grass, close to august. his eyes drifted up towards the sky, widening in awe at the beauty of the constellations dancing above him.

august piped up, her voice warm and soft, "you know, my parents used to tell me stories about fallen jedi. how they join with the stars after they pass away. i truly believe that the jedi are always keeping a close eye over us, while also letting us know that they are not too far out of reach."

"were your parents jedi?" obi-wan inquired, a slight wave of shame wash over him. he did not want to pry too much without being too nosy.

"fuck no," august yawned, "both of my parents are alive and well, settled on the planet of takodana. my home planet is naboo, but they have moved since my training began. i have not seen them since i was about seven years old. we haven't spoken since."

"it seems as if i got you beat," a sigh escaped from obi-wan's lips, "i was taken as a youngling when i was only three years old."

"three years old?" august rolled over, propping herself up with her elbow, "holy shit kenobi. that's ridiculous."

"do you realize how often the jedi council take younglings?" obi-wan arched a brow, "once they can sense that they are force sensitive, the youglings are often newborns or infants."

"oh," august widened her eyes, "that's.."

"it is quite intriguing," he sucked in a breath, "yet, it is for the greater good of the jedi. once the council is aware of their abilities, it is best they start training as early as possible. the more skilled we are, the better."

"you're such a pushover," august snorted, rolling her eyes, "do you ever wonder if the jedi are always the divine beings they claim they are?"

"you're beginning to worry me," obi-wan retorted, "you're talking like a sith, august."

"i am just speaking what's on my mind," she exhaled, rolling onto her back once more, "you don't ever think about what would happen if you didn't seek the route of a jedi? if you were just a normal, ordinary being on your home planet? don't those thoughts keep you up late at night? do you ever just ponder?"

"there really is more to you than meets the eye," the padawan observed, "however, you must recall that jedi who are one with the force do not chose whether or not we possess these capabilities. we are born with them, as we are chosen by the force to bring balance to the universe."

august groaned, "spare me the bullshit, obi-wan. you sound more and more like qui-gon every day."

"is that such a bad thing?" obi-wan arched a brow.

"i'm just so tired of all of this mumbo-jumbo bullshit about the jedi and all of the regulations we have to follow," she snorted, "it's all so pointless and for what? to hold some title because we're gifted with capabilities that others do not have?"

"you are quite opinionated tonight," he chuckled, "august, i am sure with time we will understand the ways of the jedi. for now, it is beyond our control. for now, if it does not offend you, i am going to retire to my quarters for rest. we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

"yeah, yeah," august waved a hand, "just ignore all of my rambles. thank you for listening though. goodnight, obi-wan kenobi. may you find comfort in knowing that you will keep following the rules. meanwhile, i'll be here."

obi-wan rose to his feet, "goodnight august, may you find peace in your thoughts."

august only hummed in response, her eyes following a comet as it blazed across the skyline. the tail was a flashing white. memories drifted into her mind, taking over the thoughts of the present. two individuals towered over her, their faces blurred. she stiffened, her veins ice cold as she witnessed one of the beings pick her up, handing her over to an unknown shadow.

august let out a scream, tears streaming down her cheeks. her mind buzzed, thoughts of agony and despair filtering through her skull. an empty feeling consumed her, her heart racing. the world felt so cold. so cruel. why was this happening? why was this happening now?

august blinked, her breathing coming in short, ragged breaths. the meadow was now crumbling away. squeezing her eyes shut, she shook her head desperately trying to shake away the horrible, gut-wrenching emotions. opening her eyes, a new environment surrounded her.

her eyes met with a marble floor, her nose brushing against the surface. the marble was a rich black, the air in the room sterile. august blinked once more, realizing that she was in a training room. sacks full of an unknown material hung around the room, as if they were punching bags.

widening her eyes, august's heart stopped at the sight before her. a zabrak wielded two sabers, a faint hum reverberating off the walls as he practiced his technique. his muscles rippled under his crimson and black skin, horns adorning the top of his skull. strings of curses tumbled from his lips, a planet in which august had no translation.

"h-hello?" august squeaked, her voice quiet.

the zabrak ceased all movement, turning abruptly, the sabers in his grasps pointed in the august's face. his amber eyes blazed with fury, his words a snarl, "who are you? how did you get in here?"

"i do not mean any harm," august yelped, raising her hands in surrender. she could feel the heat radiated off the blades of the sabers.

the zabrak inhaled, the girl's sweet scent flooding his nostrils. he sensed a trace of wildflowers and grass, "you're not from around here, are you?"

"you're v-very right," august stuttered, "i am not from around here."

his eyes scanned the space, searching for any sign of entrance. the only possible way the girl could have gotten in was through the use of a saber, as the door was to his right. she appeared in the room from the left, "where did you come from?"

"i am from coruscant," the mysterious girl mumbled.

the zabrak's lips curled into a sinister grin, flashing his incisors, "i cannot believe it. a jedi has fallen directly into my hands. what should i do with you?"

"i am no jedi," the girl sneered, folding her arms over her chest.

the sincerity in her statement sparked interest within the zabrak. turning his sabers off, he slid them into their holsters. cocking his head, his eyes narrowed, "you're not with the jedi, yet you come from coruscant?"

"i am only training to become one," the girl averted the zabrak's gaze.

"i am maul," the zabrak sat on the floor, curiosity getting the best of him, "what's your name?"

"my name is august moor," the girl replied, tucking a strand behind her ear, "i'm not sure how i ended up here."

maul closed his eyes, reaching out to august. his breath hitched in his throat, as her emotions consumed him entirely. he could sense her fear, her anxiety, "you're anxious. why are you anxious?"

"because i don't know who you are and how i ended up here!" august scoffed, her tone indignant.

maul opened his eyes, noticing august's features for the first time. her skin was pale, with undertones of pink, a blush tinging her cheeks. her eyes were a shade of gray, hints of blue swimming within their depths. her brunette hair was down, with a braid woven around her head. strands of hair poked up, more than likely from a fall.

although she was sitting, maul couldn't help but notice her curves, her thighs full. it was without a doubt that she was beautiful, even if maul didn't know a single thing about her. she was donned in a grey tunic, royal blue fabric wrapped around her chest.

"don't be scared," maul murmured, "i am just as confused as you are."

august's eyes widened as she noticed the amber eyes of the zabrak, a ring of crimson around his irises. she swallowed thickly, recalling one truth she learned during her early days of training, "you're a sith, aren't you?"

"i am," maul dipped his head, "you happened to interrupt my training."

"you train in solitude?" august arched a brow.

"sometimes," maul shrugged, his eyes glancing around the room, "my master is away, on a mission."

"maul," his name was enticing as it tumbled from her lips, "why haven't we killed one another yet?"

her question shocked him. yet, it was a question burning through his mind, consuming his thoughts as he spoke to her. the sith and jedi had been quarreling for years, yet, when he laid his eyes on her, he couldn't help but feel compelled to reach out to her. to touch her. to hold her. hold her in his arms and never let her go.

what had brought august here? was it the force? even as a sith, the force was a powerful entity to the zabrak. it was something he had yet to understand, to fully comprehend. maybe the force had brought them together, but the question that rang through maul's mind was why? why had the force brought them together?

"i just as unsure as you are," maul's voice was low, eerily quiet.

"should we touch and see what happens?" august inquired, her eyes curious.

"i guess we could explore that option," he rumbled, his crimson and black hand reaching out, "although, i'm not quite sure what will happen if we do. the world around us might implode."

august reciprocated, her hand tiny compared to the zabrak's. however, once skin came in contact with skin, their worlds went back. august shot up, her heart thudding in her chest as she glanced around the meadow, feeling as if the entire incident was just a dream. a wild, vivid, intense dream. rising to her feet, she took a hesitant step through the grass, her knees wobbling. the moon was high in the sky, signaling that a few hours had past.

meanwhile, a zabrak rose to his feet, a dull throbbing in his skull. his muscles ached, sore from hours of combat training. he let out a few, ragged breaths, attempting to clear his cloudy mind. the encounter with the padawan must have been a nightmare, or rather, an interesting daydream. whatever it was, his master, darth sidious could never hear about this. he could never find the truth. yet, when darth maul strolled down the corridor of his ship, a feeling of loneliness unraveled. he couldn't help but feel an engrained feeling of sadness, laced with regret.

glancing out the viewport, maul gazed at the horizon stretched before him. an endless array of stars glittered, shining bright.

huffing, august shivered as another breeze rolled through the meadow, the chill seeping through her clothing. yet, she couldn't help but give the sky above her once last look, taking in the way the stars twinkled.

two lost souls stared at the stars, wondering if the other knew.

august slipped underneath her sheets, her eyelids heavy. she dozed off, dreaming of her encounter from earlier. the meeting was a pure coincidence. surely there was no driving force behind it. it was all a simple daydream or fever dream.

darth maul felt exhaustion rack his body, almost collapsing to the floor. he was tired, as he practiced combat technique for hours. yet, this was a new wave of sleep overcomig him. the zabrak crawled to his bed, dreaming about his interaction with the padawan. more than anything, he wanted to permanently ingrain the image of her in his memories, her beauty captivating.

a sith and padawan's paths intertwined, under the same stars.

tagged: @smokahuntis @petalsrdead @sscreeching @thekarliwinchester @witchy-goth-unicorn @damienmoonart @marblegoblin @obiorbenkenobi @queen-disera-the-fifth @monets-corner @shytastemakerthing

#darth maul #darth maul fanfiction #darth maul fluff #the phantom menace #star wars #obi-wan kenobi #obi-wan #jedi #sith #maul #padawan #qui-gon #jedi master

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shikai-the-storyteller · 4 years

Text

WFC: Siege watch!

Part 1: Episodes 1, 2, and 3

[Part 2] (Linking because Tumblr isn’t even showing the post on my blog or on my dash 🙄)

As a side note: every single person in this fandom is horrible at tagging their spoilers, you guys really need to do a better job at that because I’ve got a bunch of blockers on and I was STILL almost spoiled multiple times. Come on you guys...it literally came out today, be better about this.

Alright going to try and keep expectations low because I feel like the target audience for this is G1 dudebros who take a series about transforming cars way too seriously, but I’m still cautiously optimistic because a friend vetted for the dudes working on this show so WE”LL SEE

Episode 1

Aw man there’s only 6 episodes??? Bummer, I wonder if they’re already working on Season 2 or if they’re going to see how this does and let it die in the water if it’s not popular enough.

Things I know going in: Skyfire / Jetfire is in this, Megatron has big lips, and Elita is in it. That’s literally it, I’ve managed to avoid spoilers thusfar (though a few of the promo images implied Skyfire’s a Decepticon, so you KNOW that’s gonna break bad eventually)

WHEELJACK Wednesday THURSDAY

OH MYG OSH IS THAT SKYWARP??? EXPECTATIONS ARE NOW SKY-HIGH

The transformation sequences look so reminiscent of those stop-motion videos people do of their Transformer toys transforming. This isn’t a dig at the animation style, I think that’s rather charming and I wonder if it’s intentional.

Wow Bumblebee sounds like a jerk. I’m instantly on-edge, please don’t make all the characters ~hyper-masculine mean guys who don’t know how to have fun or talk about their emotions~

“The Autobots aint paying you for attitude” YOU TELL HIM WHEELJACK

Yooo Velocitron exists!

Ahh so Bumblebee IS just a mercenary, not an Autobot

OHOHO HERE”S JETFIRE

Wow Jetfire you’re really going the bad dude route huh

Ayyyyyy there’s Starscream

YOOO THERE”S THUNDERCRACKER

Thundercracker I appreciate that you’re using fancy tech to identify wheeljack but his Autobot badge is literally Right There

WTF

WELL THAT DIDN”T LAST LONG HUH...that’s a bit disappointing

OH NVM THAT WASN”T A HEEL-TURN THAT WAS JUST A STRAIGHT UP “I”M THE BOSS” MOVE

huh so they’re making Skyfire the target of Starscream’s desire for power. hmm

WHY ARE YOU GUYS RUNNING JUST TRANSFORM INTO CARS unless they’re too low on energon to do it??

There he is...Mr. Big Lips

Well that’s a surprising take Megatron

Isn’t that Cybertron and Luna 1 in the sky though?? Are they on Cybertron rn or not??

Megatron’s voice is really throwing me off, if it weren’t for his helmet and color I’d really think that was Overlord

ITS TRUCK DAD

OHOHO HE SAID THE THING!!!!

Why does bumblebee have lips too

“What do you know of slavery?” Alright that line did make me go “OHHHH”

“Alpha Trion would be ashamed!” “Of us both, I think” ouch, but nice to see Alpha “Grandpa” Trion back in a series

Megatron PLEASE don’t say “I’m enjoying this, Prime” in that voice while I can hear Optimus groaning in the background

AYYY ELITAAAAAA

Why are the Seekers chasing these guys, who are running on foot, ON FOOT??? CHANGE INTO YOUR DANG ALT MODE

WHEELJACK SWORE

man I’m only like a few minutes in and I’m already bored. I’m going to watch the whole thing, but I feel like this is really lacking soul or personality so far. It very much feels like the script was written by people who aren’t familiar with these characters, so they’re writing them how they EXPECT them to sound, not writing them as they actually are. It’s more than a little disappointing, but this is only the first episode, so I’ll keep going and see if this is consistent throughout the series.

Oh man, just listening to Elita you can tell she was written by a dude. Oof.

There’s the Ark!

Dang everyone’s running low

Jeez Optimus and Elita wouldn’t just walk by all these injured Autobots!

And Optimus wouldn’t brush off his officers!! Agh!!!

YO Ultra Magnus!

Chromia!!!!!

oh my gosh is THAT Red Alert??

Hey where’s Ratchet though

Gosh the writing is so STIFF!!!! I can’t stand this, if I wasn’t a die-hard Transformers fan I would’ve bounced a few minutes ago

It might also be the way the VAs pause between words, please speak normally, these constant pauses between words are frustrating

Ok but where the frick is Soundwave

“His arrogance I actually like” pfft

Annnnd here comes Ultra Magnus to accept the treaty on Prime’s behalf, where he’ll get held hostage and probably wind up beefing it.

Episode 2

SOUNDWAVE!!!! BABY

And Shockwave!!!

YO SKYWARP ACTUALLY GOT A SPEAKING LINE

I want to know where Megatron got all this fabric for those stupid flags and where Ultra magnus got that cloak

Is. Is that Prowl with a weird paint job

Wow bad aim dude

Ultra Magnus you dummy....

Ok but if it was a battle then who were they fighting against???

Wow you’re really just gonna stand there and take that Magnus?

I know they’re on a time-crunch because they only have 6 episodes, but they have to do more to make me care about the characters. I’m inclined to care about them already because I’m familiar with the series and because as a stand-alone, even I’m like “Ok. So?” whenever new problems come up for them. I’m not invested!

Not to compare the two, because I feel like this entire liveblog will turn into a comparative essay, but Cyberverse got me invested in characters within the first episode! They were on an even TIGHTER time-crunch because their episodes were only 10 minutes, and yet they did a great job weaving a tight narrative and making good use of their time to tell a story and have characters charm the audience.

Optimus: Til All Are One Rodimus, coming out of nowhere: TIL ALL ARE ONE

WELL THAT”S NOT THE VOICE I WAS EXPECTING FOR SHOCKWAVE he sounds a bit reminiscent of his TFA version

What does de-rez mean

Ok but that’s assuming that this thing will automatically reprogram them?? Reformatting doesn’t automatically mean someone will turn into a Decepticon!

You know, there’s a lot of talking in the show but the dialogue doesn’t actually say a lot. It doesn’t reveal much about the characters or tell me who they are.

YOOO THERE”S SOUNDWAVE

AUDIO BOOB

It really annoys me that characters always pause after saying “I”. It’s always “I.........[long pause] rest of their sentence.”

what do you mean “Teams” Optimus there’s like 5 of you guys

I love you Soundwave!!!

Whoa wait was that Impactor in the background?

ughHHHHHH I HATE THAT MY BIGGEST PET PEEVE IS “what have you done?” SAID UTTERLY MONOTONE WHEN IT’S NOT EVEN A BIG DEAL!!! YOU CAN”T FLIP THAT LINE OUT WITHOUT ACTUALLY PUTTING IN THE FOOTWORK TO EARN IT!!! AGH!!!

Again, it feels very much like the writers read the wikipedia page for Transformers and maybe the first sentence of each character’s bio page and then wrote the entire script from there. It’s frustrating. I hate being so severe in my reviews because I hate dunking on my fellow writers because they don’t always have final say in what happens, but this is astonishingly poor writing.

Like, I can see what they’re TRYING to accomplish, but it feels like they whiff so badly.

YO IT IS IMPACTOR

oh thats Barricade that’s why I thought that was Prowl

Chromia!!!! My darling!!!! I can’t believe there’s only two girls in this show so far

Oh that’s Cog, I wasn’t sure if that was Beachcomber or what

Nice one Chromia

Oh is that Mirage?

Ugh ANOTHER WRITING PET PEEVE: Constantly having characters start to say something but then then their dialogue gets cut off. It’s fine if it’s once in a while but over and over it’s annoying

I also feel like a lot of the VAs lack...emotion. They don’t emphasize the lines. Like, “Get him into the repair bay” is one example. Depending on how you emphasize certain words in that sentence, you can infer a lot! Emotion, the state of mind of the character, etc. But when it’s delivered in such a bland way, it’s a bit like “ok whatever”, which is how I’m starting to feel about this whole show. This doesn’t go for all the VAs or all lines, but it’s consistent enough that my mind’s wandering.

RAVAGE??? RAVAGE???? RAVAGE?!?!?!??!?!

It was probably Bumblebee.

Not to be nitpicky but it should be “Neither we nor the Autobots”

The idea of reformatting is so stupid!!! It implies that Autobots and Decepticons are inherently different, which is stupid!! It’s so dumb WHY DO YOU GOTTA GO THAT ROUTE IT”S SO STUPID (ESPECIALLY SINCE THEY”RE TACKLING THE TOPIC OF OPPRESSION??? THEY”RE SAYING THEY”RE LITERALLY DIFFERENT SPECIES AND USING IT AS A PLATFORM TO SAY ONE GROUP IS INHERENTLY BETTER THAN THE OTHER. THAT SUCKS)

Episode 3

RATCHET!!!!!!!!!!!!

Lmao love your lipgloss Megatron

Ohh is Ratchet going to fix Impactor??

PROWL??? HE”S SO SHORT

Gosh please, please don’t have humans in this show

lmao Skyfire called Starscream a tool

RATCHET!!! :D

I’d like to see who was on the writing team of this show

Isn’t that Mirage?

YEAH THAT IS MIRAGE

Again with the sentences consistently being cut off....

Is that Sunstorm?

Points to Chromia and Mirage for showing the first bitof personality in this show.

Yooo Ratchet! Oof he’s not chummy with Prime huh

YOO CAMINUS EXISTS TOO

LMAO FEISTY GRANDPA

Oh Mirage come on

Actually no, don’t shut Impactor up he’s right

“I didn’t patch you up just so you could blow a valve here” *snorts*

Wouldn’t it be frickin hilarious if Magnus just popped open a panel and Minimus came out and just dipped outta there

lmao nice lightsaber Jetfire

LMAO “PULL THE TRIGGER MAGNUS”

JEEZ JUST PUNCH HIM RIGHT IN THE FACE WHY DON”T YOU

Ratchet is the ONLY character they’ve given personality in this show so far.

Jeez Mirage cool your jets

Oh for frick’s sake Optimus be cool

Megatron please stop torturing your ex boyfriend

Ok but who did they rise against??? Were there Quintessons in this universe too?

oh come on you guys

Oh boy something tells me Skywarp isn’t going to survive the rest of this episode

Oh jk, Skyfire just let him go. Well alrighty then

I’m not sure how they found the Autobot base, they implied that it was because of Impactor but that doesn’t make sense

This post is getting long so I’m going to spit it between two posts

#i talk #I'm watching WFC #Primordial robot hell #WFC Spoiler #That's how I'll be tagging my spoilers #but I'll throw a few more spoiler tags in here for good measure #transformers spoiler /#Siege spoiler /#wfc spoiler /#WFC siege spoiler /#ask to tag any other spoilers

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dvp95 · 5 years

Text

whispers trail and linger

pairing: dan howell/phil lester rating: mature tags: hallucinations, unsettling, psychological horror, imaginary friend, mention of suicidal thoughts in the past word count: 2.2k summary: Dan had an imaginary friend when he was young. It doesn't seem to have gotten the memo that he's grown up. Bingo squares: hallucinations + wingfic + midnight swim + destruction

also, used a dialogue prompt from @throwing-roses-into-the-abyss! i’m sure you would have preferred something fluffier, dear, i’m just getting into the spooky spirit of things.

read on ao3 or here!

"The diamond in your engagement ring is fake."

Dan freezes. After a long beat, his muscles slowly untense, one by one, and he inhales deeply. Maybe if he doesn't look up from his laptop, the voice will go away.

It doesn't. Dan should really know better than that by now.

"You know that, right? It's, like, zircon."

"It's cubic zirconia," Dan says, and then he scowls at himself. He hadn't meant to respond, doesn't want to go down this rabbit hole again. He keeps his eyes trained on the blinking cursor on his screen, even though his fingers have stopped typing.

"Sounds like the same thing to me. Point is, it's not a diamond. Why isn't it a diamond?"

"I didn't want a diamond," says Dan.

"Why not?"

"Because. Most diamond mining is irresponsible, and I don't want a reminder of deforestation and soil erosion on my finger."

"Huh. Can I touch it?"

Dan inhales again, through his nose this time. He could say no. He should say no.

Still, he's spent a good chunk of his time in therapy talking about this, and he knows that it isn't real. It won't actually hurt him. So, reluctantly, Dan holds his left hand out, over the abyss that is the space between his sofa and the end table.

It isn't real, he knows it isn't real, but the shock of cool fingers touching his own makes him shiver anyway.

The logical part of Dan's brain - which is the majority of it, really - always feels so muddled when this happens. It doesn't seem to matter that he's spent years and years working through the trauma that he expects is the cause of this, it still feels so fucking real in the moment. He can feel the cold, gentle weight of fingertips tracing over his ring before they skitter away.

"Feels weird. I like diamonds better."

"It doesn't feel like anything," Dan says flatly. "It's a rock in some metal."

"Such a nice way to talk about a gift, Danny."

"Don't call me that," Dan snaps, and his gaze jerks away from his laptop automatically. He regrets it, wishes he'd held back the instinct.

It - not 'him', never 'him', because it isn't real - stands in Dan's lounge like it belongs there, all long limbs and eerily pale skin. It looks human, or near enough, unless Dan looks closely.

He doesn't want to look closely. He turns back to his screen and stares at the cursor again.

"Dan, then," it says. Its tone is amused, a little condescending. Dan prickles, but he doesn't rise to the bait. After a long, quiet moment where Dan clenches his jaw and does not, in any way, acknowledge its presence, the voice comes again, light and conversational. "And here you said you'd marry me. It's very like you to break a promise, isn't it?"

That's too far. Dan can't hold back his angry, "I was seven, it wouldn't count as a real promise even if you did exist."

It laughs. The hairs on the back of Dan's neck stand up.

"You know that I exist."

"No," Dan says, and he wishes he could sound more certain. The fact is, he struggles with the concept of existence in general, and it becomes somewhat of an existential thing. Does it exist, even though it only exists in Dan's mind? He can't be sure of the answer.

"I suppose you're right," it says thoughtfully, acting like Dan hasn't spoken. "We were way too young to make a promise so big."

"Plus, you're a figment of my diseased imagination," Dan deadpans. His heartrate picks up a bit, the way it always does when he vocalizes this thing. "So I'm guessing the ceremony would be a bit fucking weird, as well."

"Am I?" It sounds delighted. "Wouldn't that be something."

Dan takes another deep breath. It won't get a rise out of him, not this time. It's been an expert at poking and prodding sore spots for far too long.

Maybe if he just keeps working and refuses to talk to it, it'll get bored. It gets bored very easily. Dan brings both his hands back to his laptop keyboard and, as if he's moving through sludge, starts typing again. He's not sure if any of it makes sense, too hyperaware that he isn't alone right now to pay much attention to the words he's typing.

He doesn't hear it move, but he supposes he doesn't have to. The only indication that it isn't standing to his left anymore is the brush of a light, unfortunately familiar weight over his shoulders.

Dan's muscles tense up again. He knows it's leaning over the back of the couch now, looking at his screen, and honestly, that would make him uncomfortable even if it was another human doing it.

"Music, yeah? You always liked music. Glad you're writing about something you like instead of trying to force yourself into what they want."

No matter how old Dan gets, he still can't figure out who 'they' are. It references a 'them' a lot, and Dan used to think it was talking about his parents. Then he thought it was talking about the shitty bullies at school. Now, he has no idea who or what his fucked up subconscious is trying to warn him against.

"What did they want?" Dan asks. He's got no willpower at all, has he.

"Oh, you know," it says, its breath ghosting over the back of Dan's neck. Dan feels goosebumps start to rise over his arms, even under his thick hoodie.

"I don't know," Dan says, irritated. "I've never known."

"Don't you?"

"Am I always this annoying to talk to?" Dan wonders out loud. If this is what a small part of his psyche sounds like, then he feels bad for his friends and fiancé for dealing with him all the time.

It laughs, low and uninhibited. Out of the corner of his eye, Dan sees the shape of something dark stretching out.

He won't look. He doesn't look. Not that it really matters. Dan knows what the shape is, has known it his entire life. The sight of it comforted him, once upon a time.

"No, you're much worse," it jokes, and the shape retracts back. Dan hates that he almost misses the peripheral view, hates that he keeps talking to his own delusion like it's going to do him any fucking good at all.

"If you're just here to be vague and insult me, you can fuck off," says Dan. "Gabe will be over soon, I don't need you hovering when he is."

"Does it matter that I'm here if I'm in your head?" it asks. Something brushes against Dan's upper arm, and Dan flinches. "You're jumpy today, aren't you? It's just me, Dan, jeez."

That's kind of the problem. It doesn't give Dan a chance to say so. "I didn't think you liked it when I said it out loud, but fine. You know what they want, it's what they've always wanted. They want you dead, Danny."

Dan's not sure what he expected, but it wasn't that. He feels cold all through his body very suddenly, a wave of nausea overtaking him.

"What?" he bleats, his vision going a bit blurry and his voice sounding so, so small.

Then, there's a firmer pressure on Dan's shoulders, across his chest. Encircling him. It's giving him an embrace, probably one that's meant to be comforting. Not with its cold, human-ish arms, but with the smooth, soft weight of its wings.

Dan's therapists have blamed his semi-religious upbringing for the wings. They think that he started having delusions of some kind of guardian angel when he was young, and that's why it looks the way it does.

Honestly, Dan doesn't know if that's true or not. Maybe it is. He doesn't remember the first time he saw it, after all, it's just always been there, growing at the same pace as him like another child would.

The hold should be making him panic more, because he's essentially being trapped against the couch by its wings, but Dan actually starts to feel calmer. Maybe that isn't so surprising, really. This used to make him feel so safe when he was a child, curling up with his imaginary friend and feeling its soft wings around him like a weighted blanket.

But then Dan learned that it wasn't real, that it was all in his head, that his family would watch him with wide, uncertain eyes if he kept talking about it, and its embrace stopped being a refuge.

"I won't let them hurt you," it says, with so much sincerity that Dan finds himself believing it despite all logic.

Heat prickles at Dan's eyes, and he leans further back into the couch cushion, its nose brushing his ear and its wings tightening across his chest.

"I know," he whispers, because he does. He does know that.

He remembers the way the freezing cold water had felt against his skin that night, the last time he saw it. The moon had been little more than a sliver of light in the sky, reflecting off the gentle waves around him. He remembers feeling peaceful, for just a moment, before his reality came crashing down around his shoulders again. He remembers wanting to put his head under until everything went away again.

The only thing that had made him leave the water that night had been his imaginary friend, who had stopped showing up as frequently now that Dan was in the midst of a turbulent adolescence, and who had cheerfully waved at him from the shoreline.

So he'd ended up talking instead, about nothing in particular, until dawn started to break over the horizon. It always looked stranger in sunlight, so pale it was practically translucent, but Dan had felt so comforted by its reappearance at that particular time in his life, when it felt like he had nothing and nobody to help with the unending noise in his head.

Dan doesn't know if he would have really done anything, can't be certain, but he has a gut feeling that its presence kept him alive.

He exhales.

"You okay?" it asks, soft.

"Yeah," says Dan. "Yeah, okay. They want me dead and you won't let them."

"That's right." The wings release him, and Dan almost sobs at the loss. He doesn't need to worry, though, because he blinks and it is beside him on the couch now, reaching out with its hands. Dan allows it to take his right hand between both of its own. "I've missed you, Danny."

It isn't real. But when Dan looks up and sees the warmth in its tri-coloured eyes and the smile that seems to have too many teeth to be quite convincingly human, he feels the logical part of his mind go numb again.

"I've missed you too, Phil," Dan whispers, watching its wings twitch happily at the admission. Its smile widens, showing off the sharp edges of its unsettling teeth.

"Stop trying to get rid of me, then," Phil says, teasingly, like it's a joke, but its grip on Dan's hand tightens to the point of pain.

Dan isn't too young to make promises anymore, and his muddled brain doesn't acknowledging the alarm signals that he's sure are going off somewhere in there. He simply nods, feeling a little more dazed the longer he looks at Phil.

It's been around as long as Dan can remember, after all, always appearing when Dan needed comfort or guidance, always keeping him safe, even from himself, always appearing as, more or less, the same age as Dan. Who is he to get rid of it? Nobody has to know if he just keeps his mouth shut this time.

These thoughts don't feel like Dan's own, but his mind is working so, so slow right now. Phil's eyes are the colour of the sea that he'd stood shoulder-deep in all those years ago, and it feels just as much like he's on the precipice of making a dangerous decision as it had then.

"Okay," says Dan. "I'll stop. You can stay."

#phanfic #phanfiction #dnp fic #words words words #bingo

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bbrandy2002 · 5 years

Text

The Breakfast Club

Chapter Six-Library Day

Summary-The gang finally meet and this chapter will go right along with the movie. 90% of the dialogue and plot are from it. This is nothing like the previous gloomy chapters; I actually laughed several times while writing this (hint: Drake).

Hope you enjoy!

Warning: profanity

@ao719 @dcbbw @carabeth @romanticatheart-posts @emceesynonymroll @drakensword @jemrmax2love @pedudley @katedrakeohd @sirbeepsalot @kingliam2019 @thisperfectmemory @moneyfordiamonds @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @stopforamoment @silversparrow02 @choiceslife @timmagicktoad @lodberg @burnsoslow @gnatbrain @lovemychoices @hopefulmoonobject @missameliep

Let me know if you want removed from the tag list...I wont take it personal.

Dear Father...I accept the fact that I had to sacrifice a whole Saturday to think about who I am. Truth is...You see me and everyone else as you want to see us...in the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions. You see us as an heir, a bitch, a commoner, a failure and trash... Correct? That's the way we saw it at ten o'clock this morning. We were brainwashed......

Olivia enters through the double doors of the old palace library. The room is large, brightly lit by small circular windows on the upper tier. Old books surround the outter walls and several shelves throughout the room. There are six wooden tables in the middle, two rows of three each, that include two chairs. A more modern library is on the first floor and replaced the old one several years ago, so there are no computers or technology present.

Olivia scrunches her face up and brushes imaginary dust from her arm. She takes a seat at one of the tables in the front row and inpatiently waits for an explanation of why she has to be there.

Maxwell and Riley enter a few moments later, a little nervous. They wondered if Constantine was planning to cause more trouble for Riley.

Maxwell walks up to Olivia's table, who is sitting with her arms crossed, eyeing the pair. "Why on earth are you here?" she asked with annoyance.

Maxwell pulls his letter out and starts to show her, when Liam walks in, surprised to find others there, as well. Riley immediately recognizes him and Olivia and becomes star struck again. She contemplates whether they are assholes like the King; she is already getting that vibe from Olivia, but, Liam appears dark and sullen. He walks past them and takes the seat next to Olivia.

Riley steps behind Maxwell to avoid any further confrontations from anyone else today, she did not want to be noticed. Maxwell lays the letter on their desk and asks if they got the same message.

Olivia slides it in front of her, taking a moment to glance, before pushing it back to him, "What is your father up to Liam?" she asks contemplatively.

Liam leans over and places both elbows on the table before rubbing his hands over his face several times, "Who knows".

Maxwell places his hand on Riley's back and they take their seats behind Olivia and Liam.

The door slams open as a drunken Drake strolls in. He begins tipping books off a shelf as he continues his way further inside. He notices the four, sitting quietly, taking in his excitable entrance. He has a pair of black shades, that he slowly takes off to get a better look at their faces, then grimaces. He's slightly tipsy, but, manages to walk up to Maxwell and Riley's table. He motions for them to get up. In an effort to avoid drama with him, they both get up and move to the table on the opposite side.

Drake falls back into the chair Riley just left and props his feet up on the table.

Liam and Olivia turn around briefly to peak at him, then look to each other snickering over his theatrics.

A tall, muscular guard enters the library, with a look that suggests he hates his job. He stands before the five, studying them for a moment with squinting eyes, "well...well...well...let me be the first to congratulate you for making it on time."

Olivia speaks up with a snarky tone, "what are we doing here, I've got better things to do on a Saturday than sit here with these clowns?" She gazes over briefly at Maxwell and Riley.

The guard rests his hands on his hips with both thumbs tucked into his waistband. "I have been ordered to keep the five of you in here while their majesties are in Krona today." He walks over to an empty shelf and grabs a small stack of blank paper and pencils then begins to pass one to each, "you are to write an essay, in no less than a thousand words, who you think you are."

Drake leans back in his chair and spits up in the air, catching it with his mouth. Olivia looks like she's going to gag.

"My name is Vernon, I was asked to keep you in here until the King and Queen return...you will not be disruptive and you will not be treated like a prince, a duchess, a lord, or... a common street criminal", he says while knocking Drake's feet off the table.

Drake then lays his head down and closes his eyes, Vernon slaps the top of the table, "...and you will not sleep."

Olivia raises her hand, "um sir, I believe there has been a mistake...I'm not a defective and don't belong in here with them", she motions behind her.

Vernon ignores her and walks back to face the group again. " breakfast will brought in since many of you missed it", he eyes Drake.

"Also, this essay, should not be the same word written over and over again, am I clear Mr. Walker?"

Drake smirks, "crystal".

"Good, maybe you all will learn a little about yourselves today....anyone have any questions?"

Maxwell raises his hand and stands, "will there be more pancakes for breakfast, because I will need extra syrup and maybe some wet towelettes."

"Sit down Beaumont."

"Yes sir", Maxwell slinks back down into his chair.

"Any more questions?"

Drake sits up in his chair, "yeah, does Donald Trump know you raid his wardrobe?"

Vernon gets a smug look on his face, "I'll give you the answer to that question Mr. Walker, next Saturday when you're pulling guard duty with me......don't mess with the bull young man or you'll get the horns." Vernon turns around and makes his leave.

Drake raises an eyebrow, "that man....is a twat waffle."

Maxwell glances over at Drake confused, "What's a twat waffle, are they good?"

Drake scoffs, "Don't worry about it Beaumont."

Riley's nerves have gotten to her again, not sure why she is even there. She begins chewing loudly on her fingernails, drawing the attention of the entire group who turn to her. She looks up, embarrassed by the stares.

"You keep eating your hand, you won't be hungry for breakfast" Drake says dryly.

Riley annoyed with his comment and his behavior thus far, spits the nail out at him.

Drake glares at her, "I've seen you before."

Riley swallows hard and turns away from him.

"Well I haven't....are you another one of Maxwell's drunken floozies?", Olivia says with disdain.

"No!" she replies offended.

Liam looks over at her, "then who are you?, he asks sincerely.

Maxwell answers before she can speak, "This is Riley and we're just friends...and no benefits have been involved in anyway."

Olivia rolls her eyes and mumbles, "sure Maxwell".

A maid enters the library with a cart full of pastries, fruit and orange juice.

Maxwell jumps up first and runs to get his plate. He is disppointed that there is no pancakes, but, loads up his plate with danishes and blueberry muffins. He sits back and Riley oogles his plate, surprised he's still hungry from his pancake extravaganza at breakfast earlier. He offer her an apple, but, she declines. Liam and Olivia peruse the selection and make their way back to the table.

Maxwell looks up briefly to observe his surroundings and the people he is spending his Saturday with. While chewing a mouthful of food, "Hey guys, I guess you could consider this the breakfast club."

Drake leans back in his chair and sighs, "Breakfast club?.....this is going to be a long day."

As the three eat, Maxwell starts playing with his spoon and fork. He sticks them both in his mouth pretending he has tusks. He turns and looks at Drake who is staring at him.

Maxwell lets out a small laugh, "It's the shits huh?"

Drake continues to glare at him and Maxwell takes the utensils out of his mouth.

Drake turns and crumples up the blank paper on his desk and throws it between Olivia and Liam, sitting in front of him.

They both acknowledge it, but, continue to ignore him.

Drake not happy by Olivia's unresponsiveness, starts singing loudly, "nah nah nah nah nah nah nah...."

Olivia places the tips of her fingers on both sides of her head, "I can't believe this is happening to me."

Drake abruptly stops singing. "Oh shit! What're we supposed to do if we hafta take a piss?"

Olivia disgusted, "please".

"If ya gotta go..." Drake unzips his pants, "ya gotta go."

Everyone turns to Drake.

Olivia is beyond shocked at this point, "Oh my God!"

Liam gives him a stern look, "Hey Drake, you're not pissing on the floor!"

Drake waves him away, "Don't talk, don't talk...it makes it crawl back up."

Riley is astounded by the way Drake is acting, "Is he always like this?"

Olivia still repulsed, "No......he's worse!"

Liam interjects, "he must have been drinking, usually he's brooding around the palace, but, get's a little more wild when he's drunk."

Drake pulls it out of his zipper preparing to pee. Olivia stands up, seething, "you start pissing and you're dead before the first drop hits the floor."

Drake gasps mockingly at her and blows a kiss, "you're pretty sexy when you're angry..grrr."

Drake turns to Maxwell, "Hey Beaumont, why don't you go shut the door and we'll get the Duchess here... inpregnated."

Olivia drops her jaw and glares at him.

Liam turns around now, not amused by Drake's comment, "knock it off Drake."

Olivia, still standing, places both palms on Drake's table and leans over, "If I lose my temper, you're totalled."

Unfazed, Drake questions her, "totally?"

Olivia nods, "totally."

Riley looks around Maxwell at Drake, "Why don't you just shut up, nobody here is interested."

Liam agrees with her, "yeah, just because you're drunk doesn't give you the right to be an ass to everyone...just cool it."

Drake scoff at him, "it's a free country your highness."

Olivia sits back in her chair and tells Liam to just ignore him rather than allow him to get a rise out of them.

Drake chuckles, "sweets...you couldn't ignore me if you tried.

Olivia rolls her eyes.

Speaking to Liam and Olivia still, "So..So! Are you two like boyfriend and girlfriend.....steady dates....lo-vers....come on your highness...level with me...do you slip her the hot...beef...injection?"

Both turn around furious at him, when Olivia screams, "Go to hell!"

Liam tells him, that's enough.

Vernon yells from the hallway, "Hey, what's going on in there?" He mumbles to himself, "smug little pricks."

_______Continue to Chapter 7_________

#choices trr #the royal romance #trr liam #trr drake #trr fanfic #trr #maxwell beaumont #drake walker #olivia nevrakis

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spectralarchers · 5 years

Note

Christine! Writing help question here, if that's okay with you: I saw your reblog on Crowley's blubber/stutter at points throughout GO series and wanted to ask how to make dialogue realistic? Like irl we say uh and backtrack and stuff a lot but I'm wondering how to pull it off well... and kind of on a tangent, I struggle with finding a balance between dialogue and action (too much dialogue in my case). Any tips?

Hi, Ver!

Sorry it took me so long to reply to your ask, I wasn’t around on my laptop much and I wanted to give you a proper response! The post @verdelet is refering to is this one, which is a compilation of all the times Crowley in Good Omens just makes noises instead of saying stuff, where I used the following tags:

#HONESTLY THOUGH #THIS IS A GREAT EXAMPLE OF HOW DIALOGUE WORKS THOUGH! #SOMETIMES WHEN I READ A FIC AND THE AUTHOR INCLUDES THESE SOUNDS IN THEIR DIALOGUE I GET ALL HAPPY! #BECAUSE PEOPLE MAKE THOSE SOUNDS WHEN THEY TALK! #AND LIKE!!! YES!!! #EXCELLENT ACTING CHOICES!!!!

I don’t think I have any specific tips, but let me try.

There’s one scene I always, always, always think about when I think about my dialogue and writing it, and it’s this one from Ocean’s 11:

youtube

Which in the script of the movie looked like this:

DANNY (V.O.) And Saul makes ten.

48 INT. BAR - NIGHT

48Danny and Rusty look weary from all this recruitment. Anearby TV with the sound off plays a promo for anupcoming Tyson fight.

DANNYTen should do it, don't you think?

(as Rusty shrugs)You think we need one more?

(as Rusty shrugs)You think we need one more.

(as Rusty shrugs)Okay. We'll get one more.

It’s super simple, but it works so well, because it feels genuine - the whole Ocean’s franchise is really good with its dialogue (a lot of it was scripted, but a lot of it was unscripted too). This was just for inspiration.

But, like, when I write dialogue - especially in action scenes - I try to let it flow naturally, as much as possible - if that means I have to cut up the description of a car flipping over in order to get the swear word in, I’ll do that:

He’d miscalculated the stickiness of the road - or rather, lack thereof. The moment he felt the car skid off the ice, his heart took an unexpected leap into his throat.

“Fuck!”

He immediately gripped the wheel tighter and stopped pressing the brakes in the hope of steering the car back on track. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered under his breath as he tried to figure out how long he had before they were done for good.

You can also use the dash to cut up your dialogue:

The road ahead seemed to be going into a tight turn, though, and in spite of his efforts he may not be able to get the car to stop before they hit the bedrock.

And so, the only thing that came out of his lips as he felt the car skid onto the patch of black ice was “Jesu- fu- hold on!”

“Hold on to what?” she yelled from the passenger’s seat, her fingers gripping the safety belt.

Turning the wheel completely to the other side, in the hopes of forcing it onto the side, he clenched his teeth.

It’s like a natural cut up of the word, sometimes people get interrupted in what they’re saying, and it’s totally fine to do it in the dialogue as well. I usually keep in mind that the words needs to get cut off in a place that’s logical - for example, if you’re going to cut off “fuck”, better either cut if off at “f-” or at “fu-” because “fuc-” just doesn’t make a lot of sense, if that makes sense?

I also quite like having my characters repeat things, or look for their words when they’re mumbling, so I consciously try and get them to say things either twice or mumble, like I would in real life. It’s like letting the dialogue tell the story, rather than try and say that they’re mumbling or looking for their words:

Finally, as the car skid to a halt, she hit him in the shoulder. “You! You absolute- you absolute idiot!” she shrieked as him, as she tried hitting him again, but this time, he caught her wrist.

“I’m sorry- hey, stop- I’m sorry, alright?! I didn’t- I didn’t think the road was going to be frozen tonight!”

“You should have known!”

He made a sound, sharply inhaling. “Huh?! I’m sorry I didn’t! Because I don’t control the weather, okay? And can you please stop trying to hit me?!”

He caught her other hand this time and immobilized her in her seat.

“Uhhh, yeah, pfff.” She paused for a couple of seconds, before resuming: “You’re always, always, always going on about how well you know these- these- these stupid roads!”

One of my favorite parts of dialogue I’ve written is in chapter 7 of Nothing Burns Like the Cold, when Clint is explaining to Steve why the American military is in Greenland, and he’s explaning the Monroe Doctrine and the whole World War II shebang up in the North Pole, because I feel like I made Clint’s long, long, long monologue break up into more understandable pieces of dialogue. I’ve highlighed the ‘dialogue things’ I did in bold in order to make the monologue feel more natural:

“Well, I’m not sure if you know this, but the Danish Ambassador to the United States during World War Two decided he wasn’t going to take orders from occupied Denmark, and so whenever he spoke to American politicians or diplomats, he would do it on behalf of the ‘free’ Denmark. He thought that because the King and Government were being held prisoner, none of their orders mattered, and apparently we liked that a lot. Especially because of the Monroe Doctrine, I think- I- I think that was it. Because we got afraid that Nazi Germany would establish bases in Greenland, so when this guy, when this uh- this- Kauffman? Yeah, that was his name, it was a big deal when Kauffman came into the picture and said that he was giving the United States authorization to defend Danish colonies on Greenland from the Germans. He was sentenced for treason by everybody back home in Copenhagen, but it’s basically because of his agreement that we’re still in Greenland. He never put an end date on the agreement, I think they called it something like the ‘agreement relating to the defense of Greenland’ but I’m not sure on the exact phrasing. It just states that the American personnel can stay on site until- until- uh, ‘for as long as there is an agreement’?”

Clint rubs a pearl of sweat off his temple, as he takes a breath.

“The US Coast Guard and War Department established some weather and radio stations, and it didn’t really matter after a while, once the war ended. But, a couple of years after the German abdication, stuff happened - NATO, and other agreements, Denmark ratifying the agreement and everything. It made Denmark and the US closer allies. In 1951 though, the Danish and American nations forced native Kalaalit people out of their homes in Thule, because the establishment of the airbase was of “more importance” than them living there, where they’d been living for centuries.” Clint pauses, as he looks over at Steve.

“It was bad, man. Governments said it was on voluntary basis, but it wasn’t. Kind of like when we put the Native peoples of the Americas in camps and called it a good thing,” Clint spits, as he clenches his hands. “After all of that, Greenland became a key point in the Cold War. I mean they set up… They set up 14 bases in Greenland, Bluie West, and Bluie East. And then, when Operation Chrome Dome sailed around, they used Thule as one of the bases where they could re-fuel and load up the B-52s that would fly around 24/7. That operation ended in 1968 when one of the planes crashed.”

He pauses.

“In Greenland. On the - the indlandsis? The ice sheet? Right out of Baffin Bay, they think. They were carrying four hydrogen bombs aboard. Thankfully, there wasn’t a big nuclear explosion because the safeties prevented it, but the explosion caused the sheet to melt and a huge area to become contaminated with radioactive material. It also sank to the bottom of the ocean.”

Clint rubs his face and spits to the side.

“The clean-up, they called it Crested Ice, I think. I mean the plane crashed and burned, and there was a patch of blackened ice which was just- just huge, man. I’ve seen the aerial picture that was taken then, and it was terrible. Some documents which were released from the clean up revealed that plutonium contamination reached extremely high levels, and there was… It was bad, Steve. The workers who helped clean up were poisoned, and they still haven’t received compensation for their work.”

Sighing, Clint finally says the truth that he doesn’t want to tell Steve: “Part of the entire Chrome Dome operation and the Thule Air Base was to patrol the Arctic border to the USSR and to find you, Steve. ” Clint takes a deep breath, as he sees Steve’s head drop next to him.

And, the whole above quote, which is practically 600 words of Clint monologuing, all the while I was writing it, I was sometimes stopping up and reading it out loud to see where would someone pause, where would someone search for their words, where would they be thinking about another word?

I remember when I wrote it, it was difficult because there was a lot of information I had to write correctly (the whole Kauffman and Monroe Doctrine is historically accurate, as is the displacement of the Kalaalit peoples) but also make it seem like it was someone trying to recall something they’d learned a long time ago all the while explaining it to someone who had never heard of it before.

It’s the same thing when your character doesn’t know the thing and motions for it instead. If we continue in the car crash example I was writing earlier, it’d give something like this:

“You told me the bend would be like- like this,” she says, as she moves her fingers in an S-shaped formation, and he shakes his head.

“Nah, it’s more-” he moves her hands closer together, “-like this.”

It’s breaking up the lines and introducing the actions you need to convey where your words can’t do it for you - in the above example with Clint, when he’s looking for his words, I like to think that the reader can imagine him either moving his hands or looking thoughtful because he’s repeating himself, or he’s mumbling, or talking to himself, and therefore, I don’t have to tell the reader that he’s mumbling, because he’s doing it himself? (Does any of this even make sense???)

And, FINALLY, to answer your last question, any tips on finding a balance between action and dialogue would be writing the thing, and then leaving it be for a couple of hours and coming back to it, to read it with a pair of fresh eyes.

If the action scene slows down too much because of the dialogue, you don’t have to interrupt it with actual dialogue, but you can just write that they’re “exchanging swear words” or “yelling whenever their body takes a hit” instead of wanting to force the swear words into the narrative text, if that makes sense?

Otherwise, I don’t have any tips, other than reading your work again if you feel like you were struggling with it. Eventually, if you have someone who is willing to help you out, get a beta and ask them to look out for your pacing.

@kate-katiehawkeye helped me SO MUCH with Swallow Your Soul, like, the only reason that story makes a bit of sense if thanks to her amazing eyes.

I hope that this large and long pile of blubber managed to help you out a little bit? I am not the best at giving advice because I feel like half the stuff I’m doing is a total improvisation thing, so... I hope this helped! :D

#writing #writing tips #dialogue #verdelet #people ask christine stuff

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writer-and-artist27 · 5 years

Text

Video Game Dialogue

Since Fate: Grand Order has kinda taken a bit of my time for destressing purposes, I couldn’t help but remember this old drawing and decided to explore it a bit more. Basically, me getting the chance to write Tomoko a bit more in a video game setting, where she interacts with someone new. That someone being you as the reader/player.

Think of the following under the cut as a What-If where fanfictions could get games and Tomoko was your helper character. Also, this is to see how many character references I can smash into one post!

Tagging @langwrites, @owlsofstarlight, @abalisk, and @hylianhick here too since their characters are mentioned.

Opening the game for the first time: “Oh! Hi! Welcome to Konoha!” (waves at you with a smile) “I’m Hoshino Tomoko! What’s your name?”

Opening the game after establishing a save file: “Hi, [Player’s Name]! Welcome back!” (smiles) “It’s good to see you!”

You’ve played the game for more than 2 hours: “I’m glad to see you hard at work at something, but make sure to take a break, please?” (smiles wryly) “It’s better to have just one workaholic in the group.”

You’re playing at 12 am at night: (frowns at you, arms crossed) “...Not to sound rude, but please go get some sleep. Work doesn’t look as great when you’re sleep deprived. Take care of yourself!”

It’s your Birthday: (lights are off before candles light themselves, revealing a cake) “Happy Birthday to you~” (room slowly lights up, revealing Tomoko behind the cake, beaming and singing) “Happy Birthday to you~ Happy Birthday to you, dear [Player’s Name]! Happy Birthday~! To~ you~!”

During an Event: “Huh, there’s something going on outside. Make sure to suit up with whatever you need and be careful, okay?”

You just won a trophy: “Congrats on the newest achievement! I’ll go get the cake! Hm? Yes, yes, I made a cake. And it’s all for you!” (grins)

You’ve won a battle: “Congrats on the win! Make sure to heal up when you can!” (pauses) “Hm? You want a break?” (smiles happily) “I can play piano for you!”

You’ve lost a battle: (reaches over to pat your head, voice soft) “I get it’s frustrating. It’s okay to feel that way. You did a lot. Take what time you need to recover, think, or really vent. I’ll always be here if you need me. For now, what can I do for you?”

You come back to the game after a long period away: “Eh?” (gasps) “[Player’s Name]...” (tears up before smiling softly) “Welcome back. And yes, before you say anything. I did miss you. Where have you been?”

Loved Ones: “Who I love? Um. Mama, Papa, Sakumo-jichan, Wataru-jichan, Miyako-bachan, Team Minato, Haya-kun, Jack-nii, Leith-nee, Saber, Archer...” (counts off fingers) “Kuroha-san, Kei - eh?” (shakes head, face red) “I-I am not blushing! Please stop focusing on that, [Player’s Name]!”

Likes: “What I like? Hmmm... the piano, being with my friends and family, baking, no war whatsoever, dreamless sleep, and uh...” (blushes) “Can I say lots of hugs? I mean, I’d like to hug you, but I don’t want to make you uncomfy, so...” (giggles nervously) “I’ll just leave it at that. What do you like, [Player’s Name]?”

Dislikes: “What I don’t like?” (immediately frowns) “The entire ninja system, war, and bullshit fighting tactics. Konoha’s seen its fair share of bad stuff. Um. Just don’t tell Team Minato I said that first part, please?” (shakes head) “Also, I’m not for sex, bullying, and any form of abuse. Eh? What I mean by the first part? I-I mean, it’s fine for others to like sex, I’m just not for it myself...” (smiles sadly) “When it’s all okay, I’ll tell you that story another time, [Player’s Name].”

Conversation 1: “You certainly have some time on your hands. What can I do for you?”

Conversation 2: “When do you want to head out, [Player’s Name]? Do you want me to set you off with some blueberry muffins? Or are cookies better?” (blinks) “Wait a minute, maybe granola would be a better choice...”

Conversation 3: “You’ve really come a long way since we met, [Player’s Name].” (smiles softly) “You’re amazing, y’know that? Keep up the good work. Just remember to take breaks every now and then, and if you need music, just visit the Cafe. I’ll be there. Hm? I look sad?” (shakes head) “No, no, I’m just...thinking. If you’re worried, all I ask is to please come by and visit me every now and then, okay? I’d like to check up on you.”

Conversation 4 (Requires Uchiha Obito): “Eh - Obi! Aaaah, it’s good to see you! Hehehe, you’re tall now. You should’ve told me you were around [Player’s Name] sooner! I would’ve made an extra helping of muffins for you!” (pouts before smiling softly, opening arms) “C’mon, you owe me a hug. You absolute goof. I love you too. And you don’t have to cry now. I said I’d be there and support you whenever I could, didn’t I? Now get over here.”

Conversation 5 (Requires Nohara Rin): “Ricchan! You’ve been keeping up the medicine! Ehhhh? I know I saw you just yesterday on hospital duty, I just like seeing you! Blame a civilian girl for loving her ninja friends! Muu.” (rolls eyes before giggling) “I have my keyboard, I can play something for you again! Yay! Or, if you want to go out for shopping, we can go!”

Conversation 6 (Requires Hatake Kakashi): “Kashi... you’ve definitely mellowed out since I’ve last seen you. Are you taking care of yourself properly? Yes, yes, I know you’re helping [Player’s Name], and that you can live on your own now, but you should know me after all these years. I worry about you because you’re my friend, okay? I can get some Scooby Snacks for you and the ninken.” (blinks) “Oh? Broiled saury? Okay.” (smiles) “Welcome home, Kashi.”

Conversation 7 (Requires Gekko Hayate): “Hi, Haya-kun.” (smiles fondly) “You’ve definitely gotten taller than me. Even though I would like to be a bit taller, oh well. The fact that you’re helping out [Player’s Name] and fighting just as well as everyone else really shows how far you’ve come from that little boy I hugged all the time. You dork. Let me go get a banana-muffin for you and [Player’s Name] before you head out again.”

Conversation 8 (Requires Yuki Judai): “Papa... You’re heading out again, with the headband.” (sad smile) “I know you want to, I wasn’t going to stop you, even though I really really want to. You’re my only Papa, of course I love you a lot. Just be safe out there, okay? And come home soon. With [Player’s Name.]” (blushes with a frown) “Y-You didn’t have to kiss me on the head, Papa! [Player’s Name] is still looking!” (still smiles) “Okay, okay. I know. I love you too, Papa.”

Conversation 9 (Requires Hoshino Hikari): “Mama... When did you get that spear? I feel like I should be worried, especially since I’ve never seen you fight before, but I know you’re really strong in your own way. Just come home quick, okay? It gets lonely without you, and I still need to learn how to dance better. You’re my dance instructor, and no one else does it better than you. Not to mention all the clothes. I guess... yeah. I love you, Mama.”

Conversation 10 (Requires Hatake Sakumo): “Sakumo-jichan, you’re sure?” (pauses) “I know, I know. Just, just give me a hug and let me play you something before you go out with [Player’s Name], okay? And be safe.” (opens arms) “Love you too, Sakumo-jichan.”

Conversation 11 (Requires Gekko Miyako): “You definitely look tough with that headband on, Miyako-bachan. Eh? You’ll come back soon?” (smiles) “Aye. I could already tell with the look in your eyes. Kei has the same look when she heads out too. I know, I’ll do my best to keep up the base when you’re gone. And I’ll make sure to have some tea when you get back.” (giggles nervously) “D-Don’t worry, I’ll do my best to not be lonely. I love you, Miyako-bachan.”

Conversation 12 (Requires Gekko Wataru): “Wataru-jichan... hee hee. You definitely look handsome with the headband on. But you know what I’m going to say, right?” (smiles wryly) “Now I know where Kei gets her dorkiness from. No offense intended, Wataru-jichan, you’re silly sometimes. But that’s what makes you the Wataru-jichan I love a lot. Just come back soon, okay? And be as safe around your explosives as you can be. I love you, Wataru-jichan.”

Conversation 13 (Requires Gekko Keisuke): “Kei...” (unsure smile) “Hey. You’re a dork, you know that? I’m guessing you’re heading out again. Another mission? With [Player’s Name]?” (sighs) “I don’t even know where to start. You know me, and I know you’re going to call me out for being too emotional or broody or something.” (pauses) “Eh? You’re not calling me out? Or going out yet? Then... why?” (blinks) “Inertia? Again? And you just wanted to check in... Oh.” (turns face away, ears red as she opens her arms) “...Just give me a hug, you ridiculous swordsman. I love you too much and frickin’ missed you like all hell, now get over here before I want to throttle you. Or tackle you.”

Conversation 14 (Requires Kuroki Otoha): “Kuroha-san! Welcome back. You’re working with [Player’s Name] too?” (smiles happily) “I’m glad to see you nonetheless. Friends seem to like coming back, and I’m glad that you do. Do you want to make mochi together? Kei’s here too! I think. What I do know is that you’re here, we get to spend time together, and you deserve some nice things.” (opens arms) “I missed you too, Kuroha-san. So, hug?”

Special Conversation 1 (Requires Davy Jackson): “Nii! Hi!” (blushes a light pink from embarrassment) “I love you too. I’m sorry for not coming to see you sooner. Things happen, and well, you’ve met Kei. And [Player’s Name]. They’ve both taken up seats in my heart. You’re still here, though.” (pauses) “...With a beard and abs.” (ducks head, ears pink) “Could I ask for a carry hug? Like when I was little?” (pause) “I just missed you. And your hugs, and Mr. Hat, and Wendy-nee, and everything back there. I still love you.”

Special Conversation 2 (Requires Leith): “Hi, Leith-nee. You’ve certainly changed since I last saw you. In the good way. Is Ace-nii doing alright? I hope he is, since you look happier. Eh? You’re a mom now? And I’m an auntie?” (blushes a bright pink) “Th-That’s new. I wasn’t expecting that. For now, though...” (opens arms) “I’m still your Princess. So, um. Can I ask for a hug? I missed you.”

Special Conversation 3 (Requires Arturia Pendragon, Saber version): “Saber... You look more satisfied now, with that invisible weapon in your hand. You’re sure that you’re going to be okay?” (pauses) “I do trust you. So much. I just worry, okay? Because you’re not just a Servant to me.” (smiles softly) “You’re my friend and the Knight I grew to love, so please, take care of yourself, okay? And come home soon. With [Player’s Name]. I love you, Arturia-san.”

Special Conversation 4 (Requires Heroic Spirit EMIYA, Archer version): “Archer... You definitely are dead set on doing what you feel is the right thing, huh?” (smiles wryly) “I wasn’t going to stop you in the first place, just give you a few words. You heard me talk with Saber, didn’t you? Then you know what I’m feeling now. You’re my friend too. And I care about you. So don’t die. Do your best to live out there, and come back to Nagareboshi Cafe soon. I love you, Shirou.”

Special Conversation 5 (Requires Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, Lancer version): “Dia, you’re here too...” (fond smile) “Make sure to handle everything with Usako-san before you head out with [Player’s Name], okay? And come back soon. I’m not your Master, nor am I any royal you should pledge your allegiance to. I’m still a civilian girl, but you are my friend and you deserve lots of nice things. Be safe.”

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flydotnet · 5 years

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An Ignis's Perspective on Love, ft. Ai and Flame

Here’s my modest lil’ part for Secret Santa! I got @thetrainticketanime (and of course Tumblr won’t let me tag, of course), so I hope you’ll like it! (if someone can tag them for me it’d be cool k thx)

Summary: Ai thinks it'd be fun to matchmake Takeru with his childhood friend but Flame thinks it's a bad idea. There begins a long dialogue between two AIs to determine whether or not they should go through with that plan.

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS

Wordcount: 1.2K words

Event hosted by @yugiohsecretsantaevent

AO3 version available here.

“No. That’s a terrible idea,” Flame says with the flattest tone he can take.

Ai pouts at his friend’s lack of approval of his genius idea that would revolution the world yet again. Flame isn’t fun to be around, he’s never about going for risky and fun ideas. The most reckless he’s ever done was to go on a Ferris wheel! Talk about someone who isn’t about fun… Whatever, he’ll convince him to do something real cool for once. He just needs to sound convincing and charismatic. It’s no big deal for an advanced A.I. like he is!

“But, like, if we do that, that means someone will be watching over Takeru! That’s not something you want?”

“…Hmm…” Flame rubs the bottom of his face with his fingers, almost like one of those yellow faces he sees on Kusanagi’s computer sometimes in a folder called “meme shit” (in all little letters), suddenly more interested. “What makes you think that?”

“Like, if Kiku dates Takeru, that means she’ll parent him everywhere they go, right? Then that means there’s always gonna be someone and you won’t have to watch him over all the time! Doesn’t that sound super cool?!”

“It sounds like it could be a decent idea… would it not come from you.”

Urgh, that guy! Always being a killjoy on main like that!

“What’s the issue if it comes from me?! If it’s a good idea, then it’s a good idea!! I’m sure even Yusaku would say so!”

“Yusaku would shut you down, wouldn’t he?”

Ai pouts again. This is almost slander, he swears to the fabled Egyptian card gods.

“I just wanna have fun… Love looks so cool in animes! But I don’t see Yusaku date, like, anyone ever aside from Kusanagi so… Yeah. Takeru looks like he could be the protagonist who falls in love with a pretty girl and gets on adventures with her!

“You’ve watched too much shojos, Ai.”

“What? It’s not because he plays card games that he can’t go on romantic adventures with his princess and you!”

“Yeah, no. But the core idea isn’t too bad, I suppose…” Flame is still hesitant, but at least, he’s starting to consider the idea.

Ai’s eyes draw crescents as soon as he hears this. This is beginning to work, isn’t it? This is merely the beginning, the first card he summons! His Battle Phase starts now! He can’t fail when he’s on the good path to success!

“Plus, they’re childhood friends, so it’s easy! We’ll just have to tinker here and there, maybe write some texts that aren’t really from them and tada! They’ll be sweethearts!”

“I don’t think you get what love is, Ai. We’re AIs, not humans.”

“Oh, so that’s how you wanna play it…” He smirks internally (as he doesn’t have a mouth, that’s a default of design on their creator’s part), thinking about how much his idea will blow his friend out of the water. “Then, what’s that between Earth and Aqua? Aren’t they, like, totally in love?”

That gets Flame quiet for a few seconds as he thinks of it. It’d have been easier to have a program to know that instantly, but the creator has forgotten about that feature too. Too bad.

“I hate to admit this, but you’ve got a point there. We could ask them for some advice… I’d rather ask you than your skewed vision.” Ai is about to say something but gets interrupted before he can do so. “And your fling with Roboppy doesn’t count, before you ask.”

“Why you gotta be like that?” He rambles under his breath instead.

“I’m just trying to figure out the best outcome of this, and this means not listening to much of your ideas. For each good one you get, we receive a hundred bad ones with the next stupider than the last.”

“Now that’s just mean… It’s just that you never consider them entirely!”

“As I said, I’m just trying to prevent you from doing stupid things that would put us in embarrassing, avoidable situations. Nothing more, nothing less. But I should ask Earth and Aqua about this dating thing… They may know if this is the right thing to do.”

Heh. No-fun Flame has missed the point entirely. He wishes he could be surprised at this, but when it involves enjoying themselves, then that wretched Fire elemental can’t get a grip. It’s always up to Ai to find something fun to do because Aqua is too serious for this, Earth is too serious for this, Windy is… Windy and Lighting is… Let’s just say that his sense of fun would probably lead to someone getting deleted from existence, so it’s better if they don’t ask him. Even just thinking about it sends shivers down his spine.

“How were you planning to do that in the first place anyway?” Flame asks as he sends something to Earth. “Send them amusing videos while pretending to be the other one?”

“That sounds like a good idea!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” He mutters under his non-existent breath.

“But I was thinking of convincing them to spend some time together, with no one else, and do stuff like watch a movie together, or walk around together, or play card games together…”

“How romantic.”

“I know, right?! Then they’d maybe think of doing it more often, and after some time they’d be together, they’d get married and they’d have tiny humans together!”

“Those are called children, Ai, and do I need to remind you they are only sixteen? Nobody gets married at sixteen.”

“Then maybe you’ve got a better suggestion, huh?!”

“Not by myself,” Flame once again responds with the upmost seriousness, “but Earth and Aqua may have some. Even then, Ignis customs are different from humans, so I wouldn’t trust our judgement too much.”

“Gee, you sound like Earth when you’re like this! And, huh, what about… Being together on a Ferris wheel?”

This gets a big reaction out of the red Ignis, a shimmer appearing in his eyes as soon as he hears this. Ah, touché! He knew he had a weakness for Ferris wheels ever since he went on one when they reunited at Yusaku’s high school. Plus, he also saw that in another anime, so that must mean this is what teenagers are into.

“Now we’re talking… I’m going to ask Aqua about it, then tell Takeru about it… See? This is the one good idea you’ve had all day, and will have all day.”

“So you see that I’m a genius…” Oh. “What did you mean by that?!”

There is amusement in Flame’s voice. “I don’t see what you mean.”

“Yeah, yeah, as if…”

Being Cupid is harder than he thought, especially with Flame… Maybe he should ask Kusanagi to do it with him next time for Yusaku, it could be a fun way to meet new people and have fun too. But nothing is going to stop Ai on his quest for matchmaking his friends together!

Nothing!

#vrains #ygo secret santa #my writing #thetrainticketanime #y'all i love ai so much he's so funny to write #this is also pretty ooc woops

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daisymakesstuff · 5 years

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Future Queens- A Sea of Gentlemen

Summary: Riley discovers that courtly life involves a surprising amount of high-school-style drama

Pairing: Lia(F!Liam) x MC

Series Rating: T

Word Count: 2,372

Warnings: series warning for homophobia

Disclaimer: this follows the plot line of TRR and uses a lot of it’s original dialogue and description, which I obviously did not write.

Tagged: @sibella-plays-choices @client-327

It’s the night of Masquerade at the palace. Riley has just spotted Princess Lia across the ballroom, standing alongside the King of Cordonia.

“I guess this is it… I’m going to talk to him…” Riley takes a deep breath to steady her nerves.

“Great. Looks like they’re ready for you,” Maxwell says. “Now I’m going to present you to King Constantine first. You’ll want to make a good first impression on him, so he’ll consider you a worthy match for his son. Then you’ll get your big chance to talk to Lia.”

“Okay, I’ve got it.” Riley nods. Maxwell steers you over to the king, who’s seated on a raise dais.

“Your Royal Highness, may I present Lady Riley Singh?” Maxwell asks.

“Of course…” The King looks expectantly at Riley. I would have seen it on some Buzzfeed article if kissing someone’s shoe was really a custom here. Oliver is trying to mess with me. She drops into a low curtsy. “Your Highness.”

King Constantine smiles in approval. “It’s a pleasure to meet the suitor Lord Maxwell’s house has chosen. I hope you enjoy your time in Cordonia.”

“Thank you.”

Maxwell escorts Riley away, and she falls in line behind some gentlemen waiting to see the princess. As a new woman in court, and the only woman in a sea of gentlemen, Riley has all eyes on her yet again. This time though, she revels in the attention. I can do this. I already made a good impression on the king.

“Lord Maxwell, huh?” She teases. Maxwell matches her good mood.

“That’s my title. You could refer to me as ‘His Lordship’ from now on if you really want.”

“Eh, I like you better as a Maxwell.”

“Now, look sharp.” The line has shortened, and Riley is nearly in front of Princess Lia once again. “Here’s your big moment! Don’t blow it.”

“I won’t.” That she can say with confidence. Maxwell steps aside. Riley takes a deep breath and steps forward, alone.

“Hello. You’ll have to forgive me, but I don’t think we’ve met…” Can she really not tell? Is she even out yet?

“Oh?” Riley asks, trying to play it cool. “And how does a princess greet a beautiful mystery woman?”

“By accepting a kiss on the hand, I hope?” Lia’s delivery is smooth, professional, but Riley hesitates too long before she takes the hint. Lia is expecting a rejection when Riley finally takes Lia’s hand and brings to her lips. The Princess’ cheeks flush, but she recovers quickly. “Now, I believe I know every other person in this line, so your very presence is baffling me. I can’t stop my mind from racing. Is she a high-ranking aristocrat from a distant country? Or a wealthy woman of the world? So who are you? What brings you here?”

“You brought me. I think everyone is here for you tonight.”

“In a manner of speaking. But no one’s surprised me yet like this.” She really doesn’t know.

“You’ll be even more surprised when you figure out the truth.”

“And what is that?” Lia asks.

“No guesses yet?” Lia stares hard at her for a moment, and then her eyes go wide.

“Riley…I thought I’d never see you again.” Now Lia’s grinning.

“So…this is a good surprise, I hope?” Butterflies flutter in Riley’s stomach.

“The best. But how did you get here?”

“Maxwell and his brother are sponsoring me. He brought me here to join the other suitors.” Lia’s jaw drops, and for a second Riley is concerned she’s broken the Crown Princess of Cordonia.

“Really? That’s amazing! I can’t believe you came all this way for me.”

“I know we have something special. I want to see what it can be.”

“I feel the same way.” Princess Lia reaches out and touches Riley’s hand…but after only a moment, her guard clears his throat. Lia’s hand drops back to her side. “We’re not in New York anymore though, Riley. The rules here are different. This entire series of events is set up not just to give me time with my potential matches, but also to give my parents, the Council, and the people of Cordonia time to get to know the future queen. From now on, everyone will be watching you.”

“That sounds… fun!” The adventure of a lifetime, just like Maxwell promised.

“I knew you’d be up for the challenge.” Lia smiles again, relieved. “I’m sure you’ll charm them just as you’ve charmed me. Unfortunately, the receiving line isn’t the best place to talk. We only have a few more minutes before the next gentleman arrives…”

“In that case, I want to know… how are you holding up?”

“At a time like this, you’re asking about me?” Lia asks. “That means a lot to me, really. This whole thing…it’s a lot of pressure, but I knew what I was getting into. The princesses of Cordonia can only have so much say over who they marry, and I understand why. It doesn’t make it easier, but it’s what I was raised for.” Just then, the next noble gentleman approaches. Lia frowns. “Sorry, our time is up.”

“I understand,” Riley assures her. “We really aren’t in New York anymore, are we?” She will have to keep it together. If she wants a real shot at this, she may have to up her game.

“No. I hope I’ll see you again later tonight, if you’ll save a dance for me.” Maxwell rejoins Riley as she walks away from the Princess. He smiles.

“Lia looked really happy to see you,” he says.

“Yeah, but is that going to be enough? I also have to impress the royal court and the people of Cordonia…”

“Don’t worry. You’ll have plenty of time for that. And my brother, Bertrand, and I will be there to help you every step of the way. Remember, we want you to win this thing.”

“Right.” Riley nods with determination.

“For now, it’d be a good start to get to know the other courtly gentle—suitors. They’re your competition, but you might be able to make some of them your allies. Bertrand and I are helpful, but the more people you can get on your side the better.”

“I’m on it.”

---

Waving at Maxwell, Riley walks outside to join Oliver, Hans, and the other noble gentlemen as they get drinks from an ornate table display.

“Riley, you were awfully familiar with the Prince. You didn’t say that you knew him,” Oliver says. His voice is level, but she can tell he’s annoyed with this development. Good.

“Oliver…can we go back to how you lied to me about kissing the King’s shoe?” It’s maybe not her most responsible or diplomatic answer, but Riley feels its well-deserved. To her chagrin, Oliver bursts into haughty laughter.

“That was hilarious, wasn’t it? Come now, you can’t begrudge me for a little prank.” A ‘prank’ that could have cost me my chance with Lia? “You are the new girl, after all.”

“Well, hazing’s over.” Riley glares at him. Oliver’s annoyed expression returns.

“It’s over when I say it’s over. Listen, you should know that whatever happened between you and Lia, you don’t really have a chance with her. You might’ve been able to capture her attention when it was just the two of you, but you can’t keep up with the gentlemen here. She needs a husband, one worthy of her status. We’re from the finest families in Europe and we’ve been training and preparing our whole lives to marry a princess. You can’t just waltz in here at the last minute and steal her from us. Kai here is the son of a diplomat and is fluent in ten languages…”

A young man with warm brown skin and black hair smiles from beside Oliver. “Le Princess va tomber amoureux de moi,” he says in perfect French. Riley doesn’t need to speak the language to know what it means. Her only language skills are the bits and pieces she can remember from high school French class. Oliver was banking on that. He was right, too. That makes Riley’s blood boil.

“Pennington can track his lineage back through six hundred years of royalty,” Oliver continues. Another man in a navy-blue tailored suit stands a little taller beside Oliver.

“It’s an honor to represent my people here,” he says.

“Even Hans’ been training to learn the courtly graces of conversation and seduction,” Oliver says.

Hans raises an eyebrow. “Uh, thanks?”

“But if anyone’s got the inside track with Princess Lia, it’s you, Oliver. You’ve known him his entire life,” Pennington points out.

“It’s true. We grew up at the palace together as childhood friends…” Oliver keeps his expression neutral, but Riley can feel the smug satisfaction coming from him. “Before her older brother abdicated, it was just assumed Lia and I would be married one day. I’ve got no intention of losing her to one of you. No offense.”

“Wait a second... I can’t believe Lia would be friends with you.” Oliver has been nothing but cruel this entire time. Lia is better than that.

“That just shows how much you don’t know about her… and about me.” Oliver huffs.

“Oliver can be quite charming when he wants to be,” Kai says.

“You’re just not very likely to see it,” snipes Pennington. Oliver smiles, pleased with their quick defense.

“Don’t worry, gentlemen. I’m sure little Riley will learn her place here, eventually.” His smile turns threatening, and his expression suddenly turns dark, “or else I’ll make her life a living hell.”

“And what, exactly, do you think my place is here?” Riley asks bitterly.

“Oh, somewhere below Penelope and Kiara, but you know what? Probably above Hans. Though I’m surprised Hans’ here at all after what I heard about his last attempt at an engagement.”

“Oliver!” Hans exclaims.

“Well, we all know that your family will throw you at any available bachelorette as long as it means you can climb another rung on the social ladder… but, honestly, it’s a bit much to expect that Princess Lia is going to accept ‘damaged goods’.” Oliver is unfazed and Hans’ face turns bright red.

“I… I need to… excuse me.” Hans pushes past everyone, but Riley catches him right before he goes inside.

“Hans, wait… I’ll go with you,” Riley says.

“That’s awfully sweet, but… I’ll… I’ll be fine.” He shakes his head and walks through the doors to the palace. Riley turns to Oliver.

“Men like him shouldn’t bother being here if they can’t handle the truth…” Oliver says, expression carefully neutral. Riley has at least learned one thing from him: a poker face is a useful tool in the royal court. She will try to make good use of that information.

“Oliver, you’re acting like a child, not a king. If this is how you behave, I wouldn’t trust you with childproof scissors, let alone a kingdom.”

“I… You can’t…” Oliver fidgets with his collar, trying to quell his shock.

“I just did,” Riley says. “If you’ll excuse me… I’m going after Hans.” Riley rushes after Hans, who speed walks down the hall into a room. She finds him in his bedroom, tears running down his face. Hans startles when Riley opens the door. He wipes quickly at his eyes but it only makes them redder.

“Riley, what are you doing here?” Hans asks.

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay,” Riley answers.

“That’s…” he trails off, speechless, “that’s so kind of you. Thank you.”

“It was the least I could do.”

“I know I shouldn’t let Oliver bother me. You probably think I’m making a fool of myself.”

“I think you’re being...human,” Riley says. “I mean, you’d have to be a robot not to let Oliver get under your skin when he talks to you like that.”

“Heh. I guess you’re right.” Oliver gives her a half-hearted laugh. "The real problem is… Oliver is right. Last year, my parents arranged a very advantageous match for me. But only a few weeks before the wedding, the bride pulled out of the arrangement. It was handled quietly, but it was still regarded as rather scandalous. Since then, my parents have been desperate for me to find another match. They’ve all but thrown me into this competition. I thought Cordonia was far away enough that I could escape my past… but it looks like the rumors have followed me here.”

“Hans… who cares about your past? You’re here now. You might as well make the most of it,” Riley says. I know I am.

“You’re right,” Hans agrees. “I just wish Oliver wouldn’t have said that in front of everyone…”

“At the heart of it, I think we both know why Oliver singled you out.”

“Why?”

“Oliver bullies you because you’re his biggest threat. Look at yourself! You’re handsome, well-composed, compassionate, articulate… all the things that Oliver isn’t.”

“I don’t know. He is kind of gorgeous,” Hans points out. Riley holds back a snicker. It takes a lot of trust for a man to admit something like that.

“Okay, maybe I’ll give him that one, but you’re clearly a front-runner for the Princess’ choice. It’s no wonder Oliver’s threatened by you.”

“But you’re not.”

“I’m not like Oliver.”

“Well, Riley, I see that I’ve found myself in your debt already.”

“It’s not a big deal.” Riley makes a non-committal gesture that reads more ‘American’ than ‘American Royalty’.

“On the contrary, your words have spoken volumes about your character. I won’t forget this…” Hans wipes at his face and tries out a smile. “I must look a mess…”

“Nothing a splash of cold water won’t fix…or maybe a cold washcloth. Wouldn’t want to get your suit wet.” Hans nods and takes a moment in the en suite bathroom to get himself cleaned up.

“Ready to go back?” Riley asks when he returns. He looks much better.

“Yes.”

---

As Riley steps back into the ballroom, she hears the opening strains of a waltz begin to play, and Maxwell runs up to her.

“Riley, there you are! The last dance is starting up, and I think you and Lia deserve this one,” he says. Riley turns to see Lia talking to Pennington.

“… and of course, you’re looking stunning tonight…” It looks like he’s working up the nerve to ask her to dance.

“It might be a little rude to cut in but—” Maxwell doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence.

“Say no more… I know what to do.” Riley grins.

#playchoices #the royal romance #choices fanfic #trr fanfic #choices wlw #my fanfic #lia x mc #future queens #my edits

0 notes

lytahalifax · 7 years

Text

XI Questions Tag

(I don’t know why I did that in Roman numerals, I’m obviously in a weird mood :)

I was tagged by @byjillianmaria for this. Rules: always post the rules, answer the questions given to you, write 11 questions of your own, tag 11 people. I don’t think I really know 11 people here, or can come up with 11 questions, so I promise NOTHING with regards to following rules. Because I am an iconoclast*, baby! (makes air guitar gestures and noises) *iconoclast (n) = a fancy way to say “lazy”.

Questions:

1.) What’s a line of dialogue that you’re most proud of? Holy cripes, that’s kind of a tough one to answer, having written a bunch, and forgotten even more, in the past four years. I would say it’s easier for me to talk about chapters of things I’m proud of, and in that, I’m particularly proud of a chapter I wrote in my Mass Effect series “Once More Unto The Breach” called “We Who Are About Die”. It’s essentially about the people who initially designed and floated the specs for The Catalyst, and how they came together as one race and expended all their efforts, not in self-preservation, but in giving the galaxy a fighting chance against the Reapers. They knew it might take millions and millions of years for their goal to be achieved, if ever, but they were committed, almost as one, to the notion, choosing to die not screaming and in fear, but as an almost indomitable force that would not be denied, no matter how long it too for their plan to bear fruit. However, there was a line my editor particularly adored that spun off from that whole thread, about “the weight of a billions years of justice, no longer denied”. My Shepard also had some really nice comedic bits throughout that whole series. OMUTB, as my first real “child”, is the series I made absolutely the most mistakes with, but also am the proudest of to this day. “Near Wild Heaven” from “Black Swan” is another personal favorite, a chapter I was having so much fun writing, I had to force myself to stop.

2.) Which of your characters would you most like to hang out with? Camilla Davies from Black Swan. I suspect she would understand me and my life experiences the best out of anyone on the planet, would be able to give me savagely effective life advice, and possibly transfer my brain into a cloned female body. In fact, I think I’d probably really enjoy hanging out with her, Reese and Alanna; I always felt they were kind of the Three Musketteers of SOAP. Bledoc Caitor, a one off OC I wrote for Once More Unto The Breach as a shoutout to a longtime reader, would be a distant second because he would probably make me the galaxy’s best bowl of ramen, and I really, really love ramen. 3.) Do you have any goals for the rest of 2017? Survive the oncoming storm of massive life and career changes coming up in the final quarter of 2017, and essentially prepare for some major life retooling I hope to achieve in 2018. Unfortunately, this probably means taking a sabbatical or otherwise semi-retiring from writing, at least for a while.

4.) What season inspires you the most? It’s a toss up between Spring and Autumn. Probably Spring; March/April is usually about the time I come out of my winter doldrums and do a lot of my writing again. 5.) If you could rewrite one part of an already-published work, what would it be? The first 20 chapters of Once More Unto the Breach. Well..maybe not ALL of them, but holy crap, there are some massive technical errors and embarrassing gaffs and continuity glitches I made there. I very nearly gave up on the entire endeavor were it not for the fact that I started working with a real top notch editor who essentially trained me how to be a better ,more effective writer, and it’s clear the final 20 chapters are SO much better as a result. I might also redo “To Bask In Your Starshine”. But maybe not. 6.) Do any of your characters have pets? What kind? Shepard kept coming back to the Normandy, even when she didn’t command it anymore, to collect Space Hamsters from the lower decks. Her oldest daughter has a pet kakliosaur. I imagine Camilla has a couple of cats, because they were the only animals she could really relate to: one of them is a tortie Maine Coon, which she adopted because she liked the coloration, not realizing how diva-esque torties are in their behavior. Reese probably has a fancy tropical fish tank setup he poured way too much time and money into. Nicole has a dog, like a golden retriever or a bulldog or something. A mutt for sure.

7.) What’s your favorite thing to do when you’re feeling uninspired? This is the answer - or at least part of it - that will make people gasp in shock and go, “Lyta! You can’t say things like that!” I have two techniques: one I would recommend, and one I would not. It should be obvious which is which. First, I smoke weed. Not often, not all the time, I’m actually on a bit of a six month break from it. I don’t smoke specifically going in to look for inspiration, I just do it to relax, but I would be lying if I said there weren’t times when inspiration didn’t come and come HARD when I was stoned. At least two of my stories, Old Soul and How Can I Sleep?, are the result of me breaking through serious blocks after toking up. Seriously, I could not figure out how to do Old Soul and almost gave up until I got baked and started watching old 1970s tv commercials, and then it came to me. I’m pretty damn sure that good chunks of the final three chapters of Black Swan came to me while I was toked up as well. Second, and much more often, I go for a lot of walks. Like a lot a lot of walks. I try to walk about 12,000 steps a day at a minimum now, which is probably why I’ve lost 20 pounds since April. But for years, I’ve done this when I can, because I find it can get me into a good “zen headspace”, almost like a walking meditation, where ideas flow easier from out of the great miasma of notions inside my brain. Large chunks of Black Swan chapters 5 through 12 were “flashes of inspiration” that came to me when I got “into the zone” during walking, and made sure to write quick emails to myself on my cell phone, so I wouldn’t forget. I’m pretty sure the same goes for Grande Dame, and definitely so for Bearing Witness to Time. If it weren’t for my walks, I wouldn’t have most of my writing ideas. Indeed, it’s gotten so that if I go down a path I haven’t traveled in a long time, my brain starts to play back memories of writing a particular story, as if the brainstorming somehow became encoded in the local metalayer of that location, and walking through it is like replaying a tape in my mind.

8.) Do you have a go-to writing snack/drink? Beef jerky. Usually of the spicy variety It’s high in protein, tasty, and a provides a viscerally satisfying experience in the eating of. Grrr! Chomp! Chew chew chew.

There is an awesome jerky shop at Container Park in Las Vegas that I love to stock up at whenever I’m there...unfortunately my supply never lasts. I should probably find out if they do mail order.

9.) Do you have any self-indulgent stories/characters that you’d never publish (or even write down)? Hah! Oh boy.....yeeeeeah. There was this one crack fic I came up with called “The Yurizoku Formula, or GAYBIES!” It was a weird story, in the vein of “Chloe Price’s Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny (which I recently took down for personal reasons) or “Today’s Fish is Trout ala Creme” from OMUTB. If I remember correctly, the long and short of it is Warren accidentally infecting Brooke with a virus that makes her incredibly irresistible to all the women on campus, and she has to deal with their unwanted affections as she tries to get through her day, growing increasingly exasperated and flustered, sorta in the vein of Miyuki-chan in Wonderland. I remember it being much funnier and more clever back then than it obviously is. Sometimes I get ideas and my own personal kinks bleed through a little too much...as an example, the end of “The Domina Effect” in Black Swan was originally written to be a faiiiir bit more “sexy” between Rachel and Victoria, but NQW correctly convinced me to drop it. (As an example of my “kinks”, my first complete work ever written was a lesbian erotica sci-fi mind control story which I called Love is the Drug, which sadly I lost the files to before I could submit it to an appropriate archive. There are actually strong echos of this story in A Power Greater Than My Own...the bit where Victoria, as the domme, finds herself feeling helpless in the face of her so-called submissive at the end, because of how hard she’s fallen in love with her. I) I was also thinking about writing an AU fic in the ME universe called Domination: A Love Story, where the Asari are much more in the mold of Frank Herbert’s “Honored Matres” from the later Dune novels, and a 19 year old Shepard is helpless to watch as her colony ship is essentially taken over by an Asari “diplomatic expedition” who are slowly but inexorably brainwashing everyone over to their way of thinking. Not every Asari agrees with this method of behavior however, prompting a young(er) Liara T’Soni to try and help Shepard get through the horror of that particular situation; in the end, she’s forced to temporarily brainwash Shepard, in order to keep up appearances around the Asari Inquisitors, but eventually “releases” Shepard, so the two of them can run off and join a resistance cell. Huh...I might actually come back to that one someday... Usually, when I get ideas that are terribly self-indulgent, they tend to not hang around, and then get swept out by whatever part of my brain reclaims needed storage space for better things. I’m sure there are whole stories that I’ve completely forgotten about. 10.) What works inspire you to be a better writer? Oh gleesh. Believe it or not, one of the reasons I tend to avoid reading other peoples work in general, with some exceptions, is that I find it very intimidating and daunting. Like “OMG! This person is so good, how could you even think that you are on the same level with them, you absolute hack? What could you possibly have to offer up to the great Singularity of Human Artistic Expression that someone hasn’t already done, and done WAY WAY better than you? For instance, I’ve specifically avoided watching TransParent on Amazon, because I still have an idea for a TV show about a “transhumanist transwoman” which I call “Swing Out Sister”. I probably will never do it, but I’m afraid that if I watch Jeffrey Tambor’s no doubt AMAZING work, I will give it up forever and ever. That said, the things I am watching right now that just blow me away with their style and panache are Rick and Morty and especially BoJack Horseman; I’m most of the way through BoJack season 4 and holy holy holy shit. Obviously, I am a fan of dark, almost cynical takes on the nature of suffering and the human condition. 11.) Say something nice about your writing! (Not a question, don’t care). What?! No! You can’t make me, you’re not my supervisor! Oh, okay. I will say this: people tell me that I am really good at writing dialogue, and this is the only thing I have ever agreed with. I write good dialogue. Sometimes, I even write great dialogue. Once, I wrote superb dialogue - I suspect. Dialogue and snappy patter is my forte, along with weird, high level ideas that I can never properly fill the details in. I’m good at A to C plotting, but figuring out “B” is where I still need a lot of work. Okay, well, I enjoyed this a lot but I am going to be a Naughty Lyta, and not pass it forward. At least, not for now, but I reserve the right to pick it back up and move it forward at a later date.

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yourlocalyorozuya · 7 years

Text

If you could get your wish granted one day...?

Pairing: Soraru/Mafumafu

Rating: M+ SUPER HOT OH LORD

A03 Link

[[STORY UNDER CUT OH LOOOORD]]

If you could get your wish granted one day, what price would you be willing to pay?

An Utaite fanfiction

I wish it was still April Fools.

...

Yes this is an April Fool's fic. "10 days late?" You're asking me?

Friend, time is an illusion, death is upon us and my uploading schedule is the real joke of this entire fic. It was actually supposed to be me uploading 2 fics in one day but this works too tbh

Anyway, if you're still here, might as well deliver!

If you could get your wish granted one day, what price would you be willing to pay?

An Utaite fanfiction

“This is terrible!”

“What?”

“Terrible!” Mafumafu says, “The title is so long, it can barely even be crammed into the post title!”

“Don’t you mean fanfiction title?” Soraru replies, frowning, “Then again, it depends on the site where it’s posted.”

“It’s still long either way! It’s so long, we had to cut it to cram it short in both! We made it into an awkward looking question!”

“It looks like something you’d ask for Truth or Dare.” Soraru concedes, “Then again, it’s not like this fic is going to be taken seriously. It’ll probably go for 3 notes/kudos/likes, like usual.”

“Yeah. I mean no! Isn’t that bad?! Shouldn’t we try to entertain as many people as possible?? Isn’t the the whole point of a story in the first place?!”

“Of a TV show, maybe. I don’t know about books...or fanfictions...in any case, the M rating should be enough to draw more than 3 readers in, right?”

“Anyway, we can’t really do that with you acting like that!”

“...? What’s wrong with how I act?”

“You have all the enthusiasm of burnt ashes! We can’t engage the audience like this!!”

“...??? Isn’t this how I usually sound though?”

“That’ll appeal to the Soraru fangirls for sure, but we need to bring in as many people as possible! We can only get so many ikemen fans, you know!”

“Exactly how do you want me to act then?!”

“It’d be nice if I could get an ounce of emotion in there...and hasn’t this format gotten confusing?!”

“Why? What do you mean???”

“First of all, this is entirely dialogue-based and no-one can tell who’s even talking any more!”

“Isn’t this how fanfictions are written though?”

“It’s too confusing!! Much too confusing! It’d be easier if we did-”

Mafumafu: Something like this!

Soraru: Eh?

Mafumafu: The ever-popular radio format!

Soraru: Are we seriously doing the radio transcripts?! Isn’t this for something like sexting fics or something?

Mafumafu: -puts hand on heart- What kind of fanfictions have you been reading Soraru-san?!

Soraru: You’re even putting your gestures in this format now?! Why has this become Hikikomoranai Radio all of a sudden??!

Mafumafu: It’s what we’re most known for!

Soraru: This and not the songs we’ve made?!

M: Anyway, we have an April Fools fanfiction to write in!

S: Our names are already being shortened, geez. Are they that hard to write?

M: Usually, when we do April Fools’, we have one thing we turn to.

M: So naturally, we’re going to be girls again!

S: Y’know that changing our icons to girl versions of ourselves and posting as girls isn’t really crossdressing right?

M: We sung as girls though!

S: That’s entirely different from crossdressing!

M: We’ve crossdressed before!

S: You have, I haven’t!

M: I mean, I did but that’s entirely different!

S: How exactly is that different?!

M: I never said we were crossdressing, Soraru-san!

S: You said we’d be girls though?

M: Eheheee, I did!

M: -holds up really strange looking rock-

S: Okay, I can see that thanks, we don’t need the gesture thing!

M: But our audience does Soraru-san.

S: Mrgh.

M: And don’t interrupt, please! Now, this is a magical stone!

M: And it transforms us into our inner selves!

S: ....

S: Mafumafu-kun, I’ve always had my doubts...

M: Eh?

S: I’ve had my doubts...ever since we did that song. But...

M: Eh??? Why are you talking in keigo all of a sudden???

S: You really are a Chuuni aren’t you?

M: EH?

S: I’ve had my suspicions, but really it’s come to this!! How can I ever associate with someone who actually thinks he’s a ruler of darkness and will take over the world-

M: Soraru-san??

S: I...I alWAYS THOUGHT YOU WERE JOKING IS THIS TRUE HOW

M: Soraru-san!

S: Yes?

M: Y-you calmed down from that rant fast. And hey, listen to me first!

S: Fine, okay.

M: Look, this stone is a magical relic...stop making faces.

S: Okay, okay.

M: And all we have to do is touch it and we transform into magical girls!

S: And I’m lost.

M: Eh, that was a flawless explanation!

S: You said we...transform into our inner selves! How are our inner selves magical girls?? We’re boys!

M: Inside every person is a magical girl! Even boys!

S: The hell???

M: Just trust me and touuuuch it already!

S: Geez okay, okay already!

M: Ready? Ah, Soraru-san, put your whole palm on it, not just a couple of fingers! That’s not enough!!

S: Do you even realize how that...-sigh- Fine.

M: Okay, now we’re transforming!

M: Please feel free to imagine any kind of transformation music that you want during the transition!

S: Like from PM**.

M: Or from Ma*io!

S: Or even from the Ga*ette. Or One OK Ro*k.

M: Soraru-san, that last one was too obvious! We won’t be able to avoid copyright! This fic wil be taken down!! And then the author will be too lazy to upload it again!!!

S: Since when did this become Gin****?

S: And hey! Don’t we have songs of our own they can use!?

M: Oh, yeah. Good point.

S: In any case, just get on with it already!

M: Okay!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Magical transformation sequence!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mafumafu: By the power of the void, the darkest phase of the moon!

Mafu-oh: I am the lady of darkness and war! Mafuyu, the goddess of the moon at your call!

Mafuyu: ...

Mafuyu: Uwah, even my voice changed! This is so cool! Soraru-san!!

Mafuyu: ..? Soraru-san?

Soraru-?: ...

Mafuyu: Ah, Soraru-san?! You’re a...prettier girl than I thought you would be! Wow!

Soraru(?): ....

Mafuyu: Soraru-san? Is something wrong?

Soraru(??): ...ing.

Soraru(??): This is...embarrassing...

Mafuyu: Gasp!

Soraru(idk): ?!

Mafuyu: Even Soraru-san’s voice is cute! In fact it’s too cute! I’m almost creeped out by it!

Creep-aru: H-how cruel, Mafuyu-chan!

Mafuyu: MAFUYU-CHAN?!???? EH

Who are you and what have you done with Soraru: Please don’t make fun of me!

Mafuyu: ??!?!?!?? Soraru-san?

Nani the kuso-ru: Eh?

Mafuyu: Soraru...chan??

The f is happening-ru: What is it, Mafuyu-chan?

Mafuyu: Keigo again!? Also something really weird is happening to your name tags!!

-whistles innocently- Soraru(?): Ah..that. I-If Mafuyu-chan is having a cute name then I’d like a cute name too!

Soraru(?): Please call me Soraruko!

Aight then, Soraruko: I’m um...i-it’s so embarrassing when I say it out loud!!

Mafuyu: Wh-

Mafuyu: Weird! Too weird!!

Soraruko: Eh?!

A Suddenly Shouting Mafuyu: WhY HAS SORARU-SAN TURNED INTO A TSUNDERE

Soraruko: Ma-Mafuyu-chan!?

Mafuyu: Not even a tsundere!! A Deredere?! Wh-this is too much of an attitude change!

Soraruko: Mafuyu-chan, please calm down! Your chair!! You’re going to fall out of your chair!!!

Mafuyu: Ah!

-sound of loud objects-

R.I.P nerds.

Soraruko: H-hey! Don’t kill us off just yet!!

Damn.

Soraruko: You don’t want to write this that badly?! Ah!! Mafuyu-chan, are you okay?!

Mafuyu: Ah...is that you, god?

Soraruko: A-aaaaaah, Mafuyu-chan!! It’s too early to go up to heaven!! D-don’t go!

Mafuyu: Ah...are you an angel? Are they welcoming me into hell finally?

Soraruko: Mafuyu-chan, that’s the wrong place!

Mafuyu: Eh, Soraruko? Wow...your hands are really soft??

Soraruko: Eh!?

Mafuyu: It’s kind..of...weird.

Soraruko: Ma-Mafuyu-chan!

Mafuyu: See, Soraru-san would have immediately called me creepy or pushed me away! What is this?!

Soraruko: ...I-is that so?

Mafuyu: Eh?

Soraruko: I-is that your type after all, Mafuyu-chan?!

Mafuyu: EH

Soraruko: I-I thought you were joking! Are you really a hardcore M?!

Mafuyu: I’m an S!

Soraruko: That’s the part that you take offence to?!

Mafuyu: Anyway, this is too weird! I’m going to leave and post some updates on twitter, okay?

Soraruko: W-wait, Mafuyu-chan!

-Hurried footsteps and the slam of a door-

Soraruko: Ahh, she left. I can’t do this all alone, Mafuyu-chan...

Soraruko: ....

Soraruko: So that’s her type huh...

Soraruko: If...that’s what it takes then-

You’re going to be an M? You??

Soraruko: Is that really so surprising?

Well, yes?

Soraruko: You’re the writer right? You should know exactly what I’m capable of.

Soraruko: -polite smile-

...

So the april fools’ twist is that you’re a yandere?

Soraruko: No, it’s this entire pointless fanfiction.

Good point.

Soraruko: ...You can end this now.

Alright, alright, geez.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

...

well yeah that’s it man

sorry about this i’ll resume my attempt of quality uploads after this fic so if you’re a new reader i hope the cringe didnt scare you off

...

well they’re all probably gone by the halfway mark eh

so yeah, if you’re still here mad props to you friend

and thanks for reading my poor attempt at humor!

See ya! :D

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

#iratheweak writes #soramafu #soraru #mafumafu

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spookysummersmores · 7 years

Text

Mind Heist - Chapter 7

Word count: 4,310 (In the words of Grunkle Stan..."HOT BELGIAN WAFFLES!")

Author's note: Ohhh, wow...after two long months of brainstorming, editing, and writing additions to the original...this is it. The final chapter.

I know that, when I posted chapter 6 the other day, I said that there would be TWO more chapters left in the story. And that was originally going to be the case! But chapter 7 felt just...a bit too short to me...? And so I combined chapters 7 and 8 into one and ended up with this...4,000+ word long monster. xP

This one is almost entirely just pure fluff, which is always just...a delight to write. Pines family bonding for life. uwu

Also...stay vigilant. Once it seems like you've reached the end of the chapter...scroll a little further. There's a surprise hidden at the very end...

I'd just like to take the time to thank all of you who have supported Mind Heist - especially @raination and @choc-chip-pancakes - and provided such wonderful feedback. It means the world to both me and my bestie, and you provided me so much motivation and so many smiles throughout this whole process. Much obliged; you're sweethearts, the lot of you. 👍💕💞

The person I'd like to thank most, though, is my partner in crime, @ichipine. This story originated from summer RP shenanigans between us two. It was you who gave me the go-ahead, it was you that gave me so much cute Mabel dialogue to work with and add onto, and it was you who came up with some of the best dreamscape battle tactics I've ever heard. Without your assistance and friendship, I wouldn't have a complete story. Thanks, big sib. Working with you was a BLAST and a half! ^0^ *MAJOR HUGS*

Well...I guess that's all for now. In terms of future fanfiction, I'll be going solo from now on - unless Kaylee or another good friend ever wants to work with me on a fic again, that is! Until next time...see you later, and I hope you enjoy this final chapter. Stay weird, my friends. ^-^ ❤

(As always, PLEASE do not tag any ships. Thank you.)

Dipper and Mabel were soon jolted out of sleep, and they both gasped as they bolted upright in unison. At long last, both of them were safe and sound in the attic of the good old Mystery Shack, and even THAT seemed brighter all of a sudden. Things were finally NORMAL again.

Well...okay, sort of normal.

Dipper immediately began coughing. "Ugh...well...I certainly didn't miss this..." he said hoarsely, sniffling.

Oh, God...it felt as though his head had been hit with a jackhammer. He hadn't had the time to worry about the effects of a mindscape war with a demon on a summer cold for long while in said mindscape. Now he certainly had something to report to his trusty journal about it once he felt up to it: 'If you're fortunate enough to...you know, not die, you'll definitely feel a heck of a lot worse than you did before going to sleep.'

He pulled his blanket up over himself for warmth and then turned to Mabel, giving her a small smile. "Mabel...you did it. I-if it hadn't been for you...Bill...he would've completely wrecked my mind or...or something worse that I...don't really want to think about." He shivered a bit - half from fever and half from the thought of Bill's twisted games. "The way I was feeling in there...I never would have been able to get him on my own. Thanks, Mabel..."

Mabel smiled wide. "Don't worry about it! There was no way I was letting him pick on my brother EVER again...the big bully. That guy just never learns," she said, hands on her hips. She got up off the floor and stretched out. She happened to notice that, even though it felt as though a whole day had passed them by, they'd only been gone for about an hour in the real world.

When she got a good look at her twin, concern set back in. She climbed up on the end of his bed and sat there. "You still seem...REALLY sick though. Like...more like miss-school-for-two-whole-WEEKS sick now. You doing okay?"

"In all honesty? N-not really..." Dipper started coughing again, and rather harshly at that.

Mabel quickly got his drink for him and felt his forehead. You could have used it in place of a kerosene heater. Bill really HAD done quite a number on him...

Luckily for Dipper, about 15 minutes later, the twins both heard Stan unlocking the front door downstairs. "Honey...I'm home!" he called jokingly from the first floor. He climbed the stairs and knocked on the attic door before immediately entering (which kind of defeats the purpose of knocking), grocery bags in hand. He walked in just as Mabel was changing out the cloth on Dipper's forehead. "Hey, kiddo...how're you doin'?" he asked quietly, sounding an awful lot gentler than usual.

"Terrible..." Dipper croaked out from underneath the covers.

"Yeesh." Stan set the bags down on the bed and sat once Mabel scooted off. "Well...I dunno if this'll make ya feel any better, but you're not alone. Apparently, it's goin' around. In the SUMMER. I was IN LINE with some punk who was practically coughin' his lungs up. Only in this weird hick town..." He sighed. "Okay...so I just about bought out the pharmacy."

"Bought it out, or stole everything?" Dipper whispered with a tiny smile and a sniffle. Even in his haze, he couldn't help but tease Stan just a little.

"Haha...very funny, y'little dork. You'd be gettin' noogied right about now if y'weren't so darn sick," Stan teased back, grinning at the boy. "Here we go now. F'real." He started unpacking the bags, and he'd only been half exaggerating about buying out the pharmacy. "Tissues, cough drops, cold pills-" He nonchalantly put a hand to Dipper's forehead as he spoke, but he forgot to hide his concern and stopped cold, eyes wide, when he felt how high the kid's temperature had gotten in such a short amount of time. "Which y'need RIGHT NOW. I could make an omelet on your head. Be right back. Mabel, keep an eye on 'im, will ya?" He popped out of the room, taking Dipper's juice glass with him.

Mabel flopped down on her own bed. "Oh, gosh...you're in really bad shape, huh?" she asked. "I'm awful glad Grunkle Stan's back."

"Same..." Dipper groaned a little and laid back on his pillow.

"Don't you worry, bro. I'll be by your side keepin' you company until you get better."

Dipper was happy to have her company...but he realized something. "Thanks, Mabel. Just...be careful, okay? Judging by what Grunkle Stan just said, you..." He sneezed mid-sentence. "Could catch it. Really easily. Wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy..."

'Then again, Bill would probably enjoy it. The weirdo,' he thought to himself with disgust.

"I'll try to be careful...don't worry." Mabel gave Dipper a grateful little smile. "And heck...quit worrying about me! You're the one Dad could probably use for a grill right now. Just relax."

Grunkle Stan soon stepped back in the room with a glass of water, cold pills, and an ice pack he'd wrapped in a washcloth. "Alllright, kiddo...get this in you before your head...spontaneously combusts or somethin'."

"Thanks, Grunkle Stan." Dipper sat up to take the medicine and went to pick his UFO blanket up when it fell to the floor. Stan put a stop to that, however, when both he and Mabel saw the child become dizzy the second he stepped out of bed.

"Excuuuse me; where d'ya think you're goin'?" Stan muttered to him, sternly, but gently.

"Aww, Dipper, you're supposed to rest..." Mabel stepped over and put a hand on his shoulder to gently lower him back into bed.

"I-I'm good...I'm good," Dipper insisted, though he immediately coughed again afterwards.

"C'mere, kiddo...thataboy..." Stan tucked the kid back in and gently placed the ice pack on his burning forehead. "Now...when I say don't move from that bed, I MEAN don't move from it. Not a big fan of the sound of ya there," Stan said in his gruff, but well-meaning, way. He backed out of the room with the rest of the grocery bags. "Mabel, keep an eye on 'im while I put stuff away...and if he falls asleep, come downstairs and just let 'im go, okay?"

Mabel nodded. "You got it, Grunkle Stan."

Stan nodded back and smiled at his niece. "Good. Rest up, kiddo," he said to Dipper softly.

Once Stan left, as Dipper laid there in his bed, bundled up in a little blanket cocoon, anxious thoughts popped back into his head...but much different ones than before. He hated admitting it to himself, but he was more than a bit wary about trying to go back to sleep. He knew full well that he and Mabel had just seen Bill disappear into the unknown for themselves. And yet...the thought of him possibly still lurking somewhere nearby just wouldn't leave his aching head. Nervous, he poked a hand out and gently began to pet Waddles, who had sensed Dipper's uneasiness and decided to curl up next to him as if to reassure him.

Mabel turned to Dipper, and without him even saying a word, she could immediately tell that he felt uneasy. "It's alright, bro-bro," she said, patting his head lightly to comfort him. "We got rid of Bill...we watched him poof away, remember? You should be safe now. Just worry about getting better...okay?"

Dipper hesitated before nodding slowly, though he still couldn't help but feel at least a little nervous. "Okay..." He sneezed again and cleared his throat. "I guess I'll try to sleep...my head is killing me. Maybe the meds'll kick in faster that way." He slowly pulled himself into an even smaller ball - he slept more comfortably that way - but turned back around for a second to whisper one last message out. "Oh, Mabel...? Thanks again. For everything."

Mabel smiled. "You're welcome!" She made sure her sibling was tucked in just right. "I'll check back later once you're asleep to see how you're doing, okay?"

The boy smiled a tiny bit and nodded as he watched his sister leave the room. Waddles, who had decided to make himself comfortable where he was, kneaded on the bed a bit like a cat would before spinning around and falling asleep at Dipper's feet. Dipper soon surprised himself by successfully clearing his mind and following the little pig to Dreamland.

For the rest of that day and night, Mabel checked up on Dipper and kept him company whenever she could. She made it her sworn duty as 'chief nursemaid and right-hand man of the renowned Dr. Waddles' to monitor his temperature and keep him supplied with fluids, tissues, and throat lozenges. At one point, late in the evening, once enough of Dipper's lightheadedness had subsided and he was waiting for his next dose of medicine to kick in, the twins even played a game in which they would take turns making up a story by drawing pictures on Mabel's dry-erase board. The town's plethora of oddities - supernatural and human alike - provided them with plenty of material to draw inspiration from, so they spun themselves quite a tale. It was around 10:00 when the twins turned in, and for the first night in almost a week, they BOTH found themselves sleeping peacefully that night.

Unbeknownst to either of them, Stan had come up sometime around midnight. He pulled up a rusty old lawn chair from the bowels of the attic storage, parked himself just outside the kids' bedroom door, and stayed there - occasionally nodding off, but never for long - until he'd heard them begin to stir early the next morning. He then made a break for it as soon as he knew that all was as well as it could possibly be.

Though he still had quite a bad cold, Dipper was at least much less feverish when he woke up the next morning. Mabel was immensely relieved and glad to see him feeling at least a little bit better - and Stan would never admit it out loud, but so was he.

Since Dipper was still confined to bed, Mabel's nurse duties continued well into that afternoon. Whenever she came to visit him, Dipper noticed that she wasn't her usual hyperactive self - in fact, she was being...oddly quiet that morning - but he immediately determined the reason why, or so he thought. He'd found himself in an odd state of mental exhaustion since he and Mabel had returned from their mindscape battle victorious, and he figured that his sister was feeling the same sort of fatigue.

At some point, Dipper drifted off to sleep in spite of himself. The next thing he knew, he was brought out of his impromptu nap by a strange sound - a sound that gave him a bad feeling, though he...honestly wasn't quite sure what the noise was at first. He'd only half-heard it.

Had...had he just heard a cat sneeze?

"Huh...wha...?" he mumbled out as he rolled over. "Mabel...did you say something?" He coughed and picked up his watch so he could check the time. It was nearly suppertime, to his dismay. "Aw, seriously? I slept all day?"

Mabel was seated on her bed, working on gluing bits and bobs to various pages of her beloved scrapbook, as she often did on quiet afternoons and rainy days. "Naww...i-it's okay, bro-bro," she reassured him quietly...though Dipper quickly noticed that she didn't sound quite like herself. "You need all the sleep...you can..." Her sentence was cut off when she sneezed again. She quickly hid her discomfort, not paying it any mind, but she could tell by the way her brother was looking at her that he'd seen her. "W-what? Why're you lookin' at me like that?" She laughed nervously.

Dipper sat up. Something was up, alright. She looked paler than he did, and just as flushed to boot. "Mabel...? Are you okay?"

"...Oh, no," she muttered to herself. It wasn't until then that Mabel fully realized what had happened. At least, she hadn't admitted it to herself until then. "Okay, Dipper...I think maybe I got sick, too.." Having admitted defeat, she groaned and plopped down on her bed.

"...Uh-oh."

'So that's what's going on. Should've known when SHE started being QUIET,' Dipper thought to himself.

He wrapped himself up in his blanket, walked over to Mabel's bed, sat beside her, and put a hand to her forehead. Sure enough..."Aw, no, you're burning up!"

Mabel frowned at the discovery. "Yeah...I feel pretty darn sick..." She began to cough, and she sounded quite awful. "H-how are you feeling?"

Dipper winced a little at the sound of her. "Pff, don't worry about me; I'm..." He sneezed. "Fine." He certainly wasn't fine yet, by any stretch of the imagination, but he was much more concerned about Mabel's well-being at that moment. He handed her the box of tissues that had been sitting beside him. "How long have you been feeling like this? How come you didn't tell me?"

Mabel grabbed a tissue and blew her nose. "N-not too long..." She had actually felt herself coming down with something longer than she liked to admit. "I just...didn't want you to get worried while YOU'RE getting better...you know?"

"Aw, sis..." Dipper sighed. "It means a heck of a lot that you've been taking care of me. I really appreciate it. But just...don't forget to take care of yourself, too. You definitely don't want to end up feeling as awful as I felt yesterday. Okay?" He gave her a caring smile.

Mabel smiled back a little and nodded in response. Sometimes, it was almost as if he took the role of a protective older brother rather than a twin.

"Don't worry. We'll get you fixed up. It's my turn to help YOU out. One sec..." Dipper then got up and tried to call down the stairs for their grunkle. That very quickly turned out to be a mistake, for the fire in his throat began to burn twice as much, and it induced another coughing fit.

"SHHH, careful!" Mabel whisper-yelled to him, sounding worried. "You're still sick too, goofus!"

"Wha- what's that now?" Stan hollered back from downstairs, not having heard clearly. "Dipper? That you? What're you doin' yellin', kid? You're gonna bust your voicebox or somethin', and I'm not bein' held responsible for that..." he called up the stairs as he approached the attic. His head soon peeked through the doorway. "Y'okay?"

"I'm about the same as before; don't worry," Dipper replied, sniffling. "Mabel, on the other hand..."

"Hi, Grunkle Stan." Her voice cracked a bit - something that usually only Dipper's voice did - and she cleared her throat.

Stan raised an eyebrow in concern. He could instantly see that she didn't feel well and began to worry when he saw that clearing her throat caused it to ache. "Mabel...c'mere, sweetie." He put a hand to her head - "Aw, jeez..." - and immediately went to see if he had a second thermometer handy, one he hadn't already used on his nephew. Dipper stayed beside her with a comforting hand on her shoulder as she waited.

It wasn't long before the thermometer beeped and decided to be the bearer of bad news. 100 degrees even. Stan sighed. "Well, that's not good."

"Aw, man..." Mabel frowned.

Stan took a deep breath, then came out with an idea. "...Alrighty. That's it. The two of yas, grab your blankets and pillows and...pigs and what have ya. You're comin' downstairs," he announced. "At least y'can...y'know, watch TV down there." The real reason he wanted them downstairs was so he could keep a closer eye on them both, but he dared not say it.

Dipper put a hand to his head, but smiled a little anyway. "Sounds like a plan to me." He quickly grabbed his blanket and pillow.

Mabel followed suit, wrapping both herself and Waddles up in her blanket. "I'm ready!" she proclaimed softly with a sniffle.

"All good? M'kay. Here we go..." Stan picked his niblings up and draped one of them over each of his shoulders. "All aboard the Stan Train!"

Very, very carefully, Stan carried them down the stairs. The twins used his shoulders as head rests and felt warm and safe in their grunkle's strong arms. He found himself a bit sore by the time he arrived in the living room, but didn't say so, and honestly, he didn't mind.

"Next stop...couch." He gently plopped them both - and Waddles - down.

The kids smiled. "Thanks, Grunkle Stan."

"Yeah, yeah. It's nothin'." Stan brushed it off, but he smiled a little himself. "Now don'tcha move a muscle. I'll be right back." Off he went to fetch supplies for them both.

Mabel tried to help Dipper bundle himself, but he took it upon himself to help her bundle herself up first instead. "You okay?" he whispered, trying not to strain his voice anymore.

Mabel coughed. "I've been better...but I'm okay." She snuggled Waddles close to her for comfort.

Dipper gave her a little side hug. "Yeah. Sorry that I...got you sick..." Then, the twins ended up sneezing in unison, which they couldn't help but snicker at.

"It's okay...I think I would've gotten sick anyways." Mabel returned the side hug. "I liked taking care of you - it was fun! So...I don't mind," she said softly with a shrug.

Dipper smiled warmly at his sister's kindness, glad to have her by his side.

Suddenly, the twins heard talking outside the door to the living room.

"OUT."

"Aw, come on, man-" "But Mr. Pines-"

"No 'buts' except yours away from this door. This area's been quarantined. Now OUT, b'fore I sic the CDC on yas both!"

As the old door creaked open and Stan stepped through, the twins could see Soos and Wendy squeeze their faces through the opening as fast as they could, determined to get their message across.

"Aw, man...get better, dudes!" Soos called through the door, his voice muffled from squishing in between the door and the wall.

"Feel better, guys! We'll sneak stuff in to you later when Stan's not looking!" Wendy managed to yell to them just before - 'click' - Stan shut the door on them.

Dipper and Mabel couldn't help but giggle at their antics. "Bye, guys," the twins called back quietly, hoping the two of them could hear.

Stan dropped tissues and other such supplies on the coffee table with a sigh. "Alright...you knuckleheads both need meds, and I'm makin' soup. And later, I...may or may not be able to...spare some ice cream." He grinned.

Mabel gasped and smiled. "Yes! Ice cream!" she cheered softly before sneezing.

"Bless you," Dipper said...and then promptly sneezed himself.

Stan ruffled the kids' hair affectionately. "Consider yourselves lucky. I don't go sharin' my stash with just anyone, y'know!" He chuckled a little as he disappeared into the kitchen. He peeked back through the kitchen door, for just a second, to make sure they'd gotten settled before getting to work.

Later on that evening, after the little family had sat down together for ice cream and a movie, Stan unraveled himself from the blanket pile on the couch and left the room for just a minute to grab some coffee. When he came back...

"Hey, kiddos, it's gettin' late...whaddya say we-" He stopped as soon as he saw the kids and smiled warmly. "Ha...wouldja look at this..."

The sight before him was too adorable for words. Dipper and Mabel were fast asleep, leaning on each other for support. Waddles had stretched himself across both of their laps, as if he was determined to guard them as they slept.

Stan chuckled - not only because the sight of the twins sleeping was so sweet, but also because he found his mind wandering to the happier days of his youth. Distant and bittersweet as they now were, he remembered them fondly just then, as if they had only occurred a few days prior. Those were treasured days, worth their weight in gold, where, even if sickness kinda killed a fun weekend, it wasn't as bad when there was a good friend to keep you company.

He silently debated whether or not to move the kids upstairs and soon decided against it entirely. "Eh...just let 'em sleep, Stan," he mumbled to himself. "They're comfortable where they are. No use disturbin' 'em both."

He was about to turn the TV off and depart for his bedroom, but he hesitated. He just couldn't bring himself to leave the kids alone. So, he just sat on the opposite end of the couch - gently, so as not to wake them.

Just as he went to check the kids' foreheads, Mabel suddenly coughed a bit in her sleep, rolled over, and hugged Stan's arm. Dipper murmured something in his sleep, and his head fell over onto Mabel's shoulder.

"Awwww..." Stan put his arm around Mabel. "Sweet dreams, pumpkin." He slowly reached his arm over Mabel's head and ruffled Dipper's hair. "G'night to you too, kiddo."

Mabel smiled in her sleep, as if the message had gotten to her regardless of her slumber. Dipper did as well and wrapped one arm around Waddles, who oinked happily in response and went back to piggy-snoring.

Stan kept his arm around the kids for the rest of the night. He had had no intention of falling asleep, but the cuddle pile had a rather soothing effect, and so he soon joined his niblings in slumberland in spite of himself.

In another couple days, to Stan's relief, Dipper and Mabel bounced back from their colds completely. Almost immediately, the tween sleuths were back to exploring the gigantic oddity that was Gravity Falls, where countless other summer adventures - and misadventures - awaited them...somewhere in the woods...

the end

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