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playbucky · 1 year

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Thick and Thin.

You’re apart of the 141 and go through the thick and thin of having Graves hunt the team down. Characters – Ghost, Reader (Pluto), Gaz, Price, Soap. Word Count – 2.4k

‘Lt.’ You greeted him, he dropped the chair down and looked ahead, the smoke from the cigarette spilled into the air. ‘Can I help you, Sarge?’ He asked, his voice gruff as you walked up to his side and noticed the small strip of skin was showing. ‘You got another smoke?’ You asked, looking out to the rare view you got from the safe house. ‘Yeah.’ He leant to the side, which revealed more skin as he pulled the packet out his pocket before he flicked the top open and held it out. You grabbed on of the cigarettes and placed the end in your mouth before he produced a small light, he pressed the trigger and the flame appeared. You bent at your hips and cupped the flame and placed the cigarette into it. ‘Thanks.’ You mumbled as you balanced the cigarette between your lips as you straightened. ‘Didn’t know you smoked.’ He said, you shrugged your shoulders as you closed your eyes and exhaled. ‘Smoke when I’m bored.’ You commented, he shook is head. ‘Bored?’ He quizzed, you hummed before you inhaled. ‘I can’t sleep, I guess the moons aren’t aligned.’ You joked as you motioned to the clear sky with the burning cigarette and glanced at him to see the corner of his lips quirk up. ‘Take if you didn’t sacrifice a lamb on the full moon?’ You asked. ‘Nah, was too busy with the haunting people.’ ‘I’ve told your to set an alarm it’ll help.’ You commented, he scoffed as he exhaled the white wisps of smoke before the pair of you feel into silence as you smoked, when you and Ghost were together you didn’t really need to speak, you had always found comfort in each other. You glanced down at the last of your cigarette, the ambers had reached the bottom, you pressed the hot end into the metal pole before you rolled your shoulders. You spared one last look out at the view. ‘I should head back, thanks for the smoke.’ You told him as you placed your hand on his shoulder and have it a squeeze as you passed by him. ‘See you bright and early Sarge.’ ‘Of course Lt, gotta bet Soap at the push ups.’ You reminded him as you opened the door and stepped inside.

‘Lt.’ Gaz said, he nodded his head as he walked over to the group and took a seat as he watched you and Soap do push up. Soap had a layer of sweat across his face and the back of his shirt was damp between his shoulder blades and with every exhale he sprayed swear off his nose. Where as you had a small sheen over you face but were going up and down smoothly. ‘What’s the score?’ Price asked, he lounged against the doorway. ‘Soap, fifty three, Pluto, sixty.’ Gaz informed the Captain, who looked amused. ‘Tenner on Pluto.’ Ghost said, Price and Gaz looked at him. ‘Just a tenner?’ You asked as you looked at them through your eyelashes, Soap grunted next to you. ‘Do you want to add to it?’ He asked, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his hands between his thighs. ‘I get a thirty minute shower, no interruptions.’ You grunted out, the muscles down your back strained as you looked up at Ghost, making eye contact through the small holes. ‘What would you do for the remaining twenty?’ Gaz almost asked innocently, your brows furrowed as your pushed yourself up then down before answering. ‘This girl has needs that none of you can suppress.’ You commented, Soap froze in a plank as they all turned and looked at you and as you continued. ‘You really think I’m gonna get off when your all in the building?’ You quizzed, Soap muttered something before he continued on with his push ups. ‘I can take my time and get ready instead of rushing, do you know how long it’s been since I’ve did my full routine?’ You asked them, your voice sounded strained as pushed yourself up again.

Ghost stood outside the door, the corner of his lips quirked underneath the mask as he heard you hum some random tune, he raised his fist to knock on the door. Three times he did it, silence was on the other side before a ranging heat came from behind the wooden door. Ghost was flung back, his back collided with the wall before. He rolled onto his side, his ears ringing as Price and Gaz quickly ran over, Price bent down and helped him up onto his unsteady feet. ‘What the hell happened?’ Soap quizzed, he kept his pistol aimed into burning room. ‘We need to go.’ ‘Pluto.’ He motioned to the room. ‘Ghost, she didn’t -,’ Soap said, he turned back from the room that was completely engulfed in flames. ‘Johny don’t.’ His voice came out gruff as he shook his head, trying to steady his spinning head, Soap passed Price as he entered the living room with Gaz. ‘Ghost.’ Price said, his hands landed firmly on his shoulder. ‘We’ve been compromised.’ Price stated, Gaz appeared at the bottom of the hallway, bags draped over his shoulders, weapon held tightly as Soap showed up at his side.

‘Task force 141,’ the familiar voice said through the radio, ‘it’s seems like we’re at an impasse, with me having Pluto and you the flash drive.’ Graves said, they stood in a crescent moon shape as they waited. ‘I’ll give you thirty seconds to agree to hand the drive over before I…’ he trailed off. ‘Exterminate Pluto.’ He said, they looked at Price, who glanced at Ghost whose eyes were narrowed and had darkened. ‘We can’t.’ Gaz said, everyone looked at him. ‘Not with the information that’s on it.’ He added, quick to explain himself, ‘and I don’t have a enough time to create a fake.’ He said, his brain coming up with all solutions but none that would get you out. ‘Too slow.’ Graves said, then the loud bang made its way over the comms, they could also hear it from the building that they watched. Ghost tensed up, his gaze focused straight ahead as the others dropped their heads. The static filled the comms from your end before it went silent, Soap looked back at Ghost before he turned and marched away. ‘Ghost.’ Soap called out, he didn’t stop and Soap looked to Price. ‘Simon.’ Price said, Ghost froze as he clenched his jaw and turned back to the three men that looked at him. ‘We can’t leave her in there,’ Ghost said, he briefly closed his eyes, ‘Even if it’s just her corpse, she deserves a burial.’ He said, Price closed his eyes and sighed before he nodded.

‘Sarge?’ Ghost called out. The group moved into the room with their weapons raised, they looked over the room and noticed the chair toppled back, legs dangled over the side. They hurried over to it and Gaz inhaled when he saw the blood that had pooled under your head. ‘Pluto.’ Gaz breathed out, he dropped down and swung his weapon behind him. He automatically placed a hand on your neck, his fingers slid with the blood before your eyes snapped open and your hand grabbed his. You flipped him over and straddled him, your arm raised to punch him. ‘Sargent, it’s us.’ Ghost said, your shoulders tensed as you looked down to Gaz, the fear in his eyes was evident. You quickly stood up and wobbled, you gained your balance before the pain down the side of your head made you reach an arm up. You pulled your hand back and looked at the blood that coated it. ‘You need to -‘ ‘It’s fine.’ You snapped, then you caught Price as he looked at you, ‘I’ll clean it at the safe house or are we being picked up?’ You asked, but it didn’t matter you would be with them either way. You glanced around the room, the blood, your blood stained the floor and your noticed your weapon discarded on the ground. Parting from the group you walked over and picked it up, you checked the barrel and the clip before you lifted the strap and draped it over your shoulder. You could fell Ghost’s dark eyes on you as you joined the group and fell into step behind Gaz, his back stained red from when you flipped him over.

You had just finished cleaning the wound, giving the deep scrape a deep clean and watching your blood stain the water pink before it swirled and disappeared down the drain. Now thanks to how hard you were clenching your jaw, your jaw and head were sore, the missing skin and chunk of your ear didn’t help either. You ignored the door as it was opened when you cleaned the mess up and washed your hands, now on your search to find some painkillers to dull the pain. ‘What the hell we’re you thinking, Sarge?’ His voice bounced off the walls, aggravating the pounding of your head, you closed your eyes but were quick to open them as his heavy footsteps sounded at the smaller doorway. ‘He couldn’t get the drive.’ You commented, you pinched the bridge of your nose as you swallowed. ‘And what about you?’ He quizzed, you dropped your hand and looked at him. ‘My life for all theirs? Seems like a good deal.’ You commented, you went to walk away but his gloved hand grabbed your bicep and pulled you back. ‘You believe that little in yourself?’ He asked, you stared at him. ‘No, I know my assets but I also know when other things should be put above me.’ You to him truthfully. ‘So please Simon, let go of me before I put you on the ground.’ You snarled, he held eye contact with you for a few more seconds before he let go and walked off.

‘What’s happened between you and Ghost?’ Price asked as he dropped into the seat next to you. ‘A lovers quarrel?’ Soap quizzed, you rolled your eyes at his joke. ‘We’re the furthest thing from lovers.’ You said, Soap arched an eyebrow as he took a large bite of his sandwich, Price watched as you looked down at your watch then to your half eaten sandwich. ‘Here.’ You offered it to Soap, he looked at it confused, ‘I need to go train the newbies.’ You explained as you stood up, the chair slid along the mixture of sand and gravel. As Ghost rounded the corner, the group watched as you gave each other a nod before you walked away and Ghost walked over to them. Soap and Price looked at each other, confusion took over when Ghost’s large figure dropped into the seat across from them. ‘What have you done to piss her off?’ Price asked, Ghost lifted his head. ‘Nothing.’ He grumbled, Soap scoffed. ‘No?’ Soap asked, Ghosts eyes moved to him. ‘You aren’t talking like you normally do. Your conversations have completely disappeared and now you just nod at each other.’ He pointed out, Ghost narrowed his eyes. ‘What, I do pay attention.’ He commented, Price rolled his eyes as Soap kicked back and rested his feet on the plastic table, the chair and it creaked. ‘Fine,’ Price said, ‘the pair of you won’t admit it but don’t let it affect us out on the field, we know the pair of you have this connection.’ He said, Ghost looked down.

‘Sarge.’ His deep voice said, your hand dropped from the missing part of your ear and dragged along the scar on your cheek before your hand dropped to your lap. ‘Lt.’ You replied, listening as he walked over and took the seat next to you. ‘How are the recruits?’ He tried to make small talk. ‘Cheeky and cocky.’ You replied. ‘Reminds me of someone.’ He commented, you hummed and closed your eyes as you fell into silence. ‘I don’t like this.’ He broke the silence, you pursed your lips together. ‘Don’t like what?’ You asked, he moved in the seat. ‘Not talking to you.’ He said, your forehead crinkled as your brows dropped. ‘I know I pushed the barrier.’ He continued. ‘You didn’t Ghost.’ You replied, scratching your nails across the tough bit of dirt that was attached to your trousers. ‘I made you think that you’re just a part that we can change out, we can’t.’ He said, you shook your head. ‘You can.’ You told him. ‘No, no one would be able to put up with Soap. Price wouldn’t have a level head and Gaz wouldn’t be able to ramble on about the games and shit.’ He explained, the corner of your lips quirked slightly before you dipped your head. ‘And what about you Ghost?’ You asked, making eye contact, ‘does our friendship mean nothing to you now?’ You added, he looked down which gave you your answer. ‘You know what, I understand.’ You said, you tapped your knees before you stood up and stepped to walk away. ‘I can’t lose you.’ He admitted, you stopped and rested your hands on your waist as he looked up at you. ‘When he pulled that trigger my heart shattered, and then the blood-’ he trailed off, his hands clenched into fists on his lap as he looked down to the ground, finding the dirt suddenly interesting ‘I can’t lose the only one thing that is good from my past.’ He said, your hands dropped to your side as you looked at the man in front of you, seeing the young boy you had first meet. ‘Simon.’ You whispered, he looked up at you. ‘How do you think I feel every time you’ve disappeared and shown up with a new scar?’ You asked. ‘We, well I read the contract that we signed many moons ago and now that we’re in the one four one, we agreed to put our lives on the line in order to save the innocents back home.’ You explained, moving to sit next to him on the bench and took his hand, his fingers tightened around your smaller one. ‘I just-‘ he trailed off, your squeezed his fingers. ‘I know.’ You replied before you both leaned closer to each other, your heads rested against each other as he sighed. ‘I’ll live as long as you do.’ He said, you scoffed and dropped your head to his shoulder before you gently whacked his thigh. ‘What do you mean I was cocky and cheeky, that was you.’ You said recalling his earlier comment, he chuckled and wrapped his arm over your shoulders and pulled you close.

#Simon Riley x reader #reader x Simon riley #simon ‘ghost’ riley #simon riley #simon ‘ghost’ Riley x reader #reader x simon ‘ghost’ riley #soap mactavish #John price #MW2 #cod mw2 #cod mw x reader #reader x cod mw #call of duty

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daedalmirage · 2 years

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curtain is still blue tonight, the || ch1 trial || tezuka || re: johann, marigold, gawain, the general assembly

Circumlocution is the active evasion of the greater manner by using additional language to suggest at the true meaning. Other synonyms include the idioms beating around the bush, mincing words, fudging the issue. Marigold is right; it’s a technique for cowards, specifically, the kind of coward who can’t find impetus to say what should for fear of backlash. Compromising the truth for sociableness. Tezuka likes circumlocution. It keeps him from saying things like: I hate every single one of you right now, stop talking, oh my god, I wish I could just jump off this shitty platform and wake up in by bed when that squabbling and squawking’s all done. It keeps him from spending the energy to be annoyed by every little thing that comes up, every odd glance, every twitch of someone’s face. It does not stop him, however, from saying to Johann:

“Ew. Keep your hands off my doll, man, that’s weird. That’s an HR violation. That’s so an HR violation.” When the knocking over starts happening, not being toppled brings some relief, only for it to register that the standings are the current murder pool, which yoinks that relief right back out. Does this guy have any hobbies that aren’t looming over people and smiling like he’s a magazine ad selling cigarettes to kids? Anyways, to Marigold-

“Hey, I’m not against making accusations. I just didn’t want anybody to start crying about how I was being mean, or unfair, or not considering everything, like any of this is nice, fair, considerate, or even remotely fucking okay in the scheme of things. Which, y’know, feels like I was kind of right on not drawing the gun myself?”

The goings on being:

“Cut the shit for a second, Gawain. If we’re going to finagle over the details, we can eventually reach a justification for why any of us could’ve been the killer. Prescribing a story and fitting the evidence to it, rather than just listening to what the evidence says, is going to get us nowhere.” “That bottle couldn’t’ve been Pluto’s anyways, we’ve established this- the one at the bottom of the stairs was the one she was holding, or near, when she got attacked. You can see the water splashed all over the front of her, meaning even if Pluto did own lipstick, it wasn’t her own bottle, and even if that lipstick got stolen or whatever, which we don’t have proof of, which is more plausible? An impromptu killer suddenly loses it while wearing lipstick, which supports the discussion we’ve been having this whole time, or someone premeditates the whole ordeal including stealing lipstick to frame someone, which should sound as ridiculous to hear as it is for me saying it? We can’t spend precious time measuring hands or feet or whatever just to come back with a ‘maybe’ for an answer.”

Ah, that was satisfying. He hasn’t been sufficiently snippy in so long, at least, fully as himself. Tezuka needs a moment to just be a dick. It balances his chakras, or, settles his feng shui, or whatever new age healing thing is going on at the time. He just ends up taking a deep breath and flipping through his notes, trying to be louder than Franz flipping through his, because that pen tapping is going to kill him.

“Now, let’s get our heads out of our collective asses before we tear each other’s throats out as to who did it, okay? Here’s just a comprehensive summary of how it happened, as far as we can tell. Ahem, ahem.” His talking is intermittently interjected by scribbles and approximate lines being drawn over a very small map recreation of the lake area, arrows pointing and being made when he defines a ‘who went where’. Solid for Pluto and the killer, dotted for the killer only. “I think Johann mentioned it at the start- Pluto and the killer started in the cafe, apparently, which I’m sure is justified by something found there, I don’t know, I didn’t look. After the cafe, they work together to open up the rental shack and man one of the boats to the island, likely with the killer being at the helm over Pluto. After they get there, an x amount of time passes, and eventually, the two of them decide to climb the steps to get to the shrine. From the shrine’s vending machine, the two of them each get water.” He coughs a bit, into his sleeve.

“At this point, we’ve collectively agreed that the killer hadn’t had any intentions of killing Pluto up until this point. It’d make sense: why not dump her body in the river, where we wouldn’t find it, or do a better clean up job, if the plan was to kill the whole time? Maybe because of the pain, or the paranoia, we’ll never know, the killer sets down their drink and lunges for Pluto, attempting to choke her. The two scuffle at the top, kicking and scuffing up the dirt, until Pluto falls, tumbles down the stairs, and fatally, hits her head. This was about three hours ago. After the whole thing occurs, the killer follows down to see what happened, is horrified, stumbles backward, and proceeds to panic over towards their boat and hurry back to the mainland. Clean, cut, done.”

A big inhale, a sigh. Exhaustion.

“As for our suspect pool, which, this might not matter too much being all conjecture and happenstance, but. For most of the time everybody’s heads were on backwards, Sonia wasn’t wearing her makeup? At least, from what I saw. It was actually pretty hard to tell it was her. That’s not to say she couldn’t’ve remembered and put some on at some point, everybody was in an out in how much they were themselves, but. I don’t know. Something to chew on, I guess.”

#daedal mirage #ch1 #ch1 trial #tezuka #submission

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spiritualhippybitch · 3 years

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Astrology observations

My friend @taurianskies7 did one the other day and it inspired me. I’ve been wanting to do one for a while but I have no time lately. So now I wrote this before going to bed :)

Disclaimer!: THESE ARE MY PERSONAL OBSERVATIONS. And no I am not holding back. Think of it as a sequel to no nuance November.

🪕I have noticed a pattern with Air suns with Taurus moons, not understanding psychology well. I mean, they know what it is but they are not very empathetic towards people. They are very likely to say stuff like “just think happy” “you feel the way you think” I believe it’s because air signs tend to approach things in a logical matter. And with the moon feeling very well in Taurus, things come naturally to them. So when other people struggle they might not understand why.

🪕Also people with Taurus moons might actually ignore their own psychological isssues. I think it might be because they have conditioned their feelings kind of to feel like a routine, and changing that, even if for the better, might frighten them.

🪕 I have sadly met many people with Pluto in the 1st house, who either have EDs or struggle with their body image. They might actually not feel enough no matter what.

🪕 people with Pluto in the 9th might actually have a father from a different country than they were born in or their mother is from. Might also mean that they struggle with belonging to those countries, depends on aspects though. ( I do not know if this has been said before, I am actually not sure. If so credits, go to that person, feel free to tag them)

🪕 speaking of aspects, people love to ignore them but they are sooo important. You can have a mars in the most chill sign ever, but if it’s for example square moon or Pluto, you might be prone to anger issues and even violence.

🪕Naptune square mars can make you prone to using substances as a coping mechanism for your anger or stress relief. (cigarettes, alcohols etc.)

🪕Pluto in the 2nd house can be obsessed with their financial situation, to a point where their whole happiness depends on it. They might actually value their life on what they have.

🪕many Aquarius Venus want a s/o but they don’t want a relationship. (I said it, I don’t care)

🪕many sagittarians really do talk so fucking much. I have never met a Sagittarius, who didn’t say their opinion even if they were not asked.

🪕also Sagittarius with leo moons can be THE MOST dramatic people in the world. Can also be very impulsive.

🪕 sadly ,many Capricorn 5th house, especially combined with a Capricorn Venus do not show much affection to their children, even though their Venus is in the 5th. They might like children but still do not show it. Many children to those parents, tend to feel “unloved”. Sadly it’s usually what the individual with those placements, most likely learned, from their own parents.

🪕I want to say that using co star and caffee astrology table charts is extremely harmful to our already flawed community. There are many, especially young people on social media, motivated to learn about astrology and all they see is, table charts that are NOT ACCURATE. It also does not make look astrology any less “pseudo science” when y’all post shitty post from co star saying shit like “ omg costar did it again” shut the fuck up, kathrine you’ve known astrology for 2 years max. Sit down and read a fucking book.

🪕 cats with Gemini moon WILL always meow when they want or don’t want something. They never shut up.

🪕lastly, people who have their moon in your 8th house, might really do, intimidate you, unintentionally. Your connection might be so deep, that if you are not used to it, it can lead to paranoia “why do they care so much about me? What do they get out of it?”. Also with a friend of mine, we are almost telepathic, it’s crazy. I think something, she does it or vise versa. But it can genuinely be one of the deepest bonds out there!

Again these are MY observations. Please feel free to add stuff! With love ❤️✨

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sleekervae · 3 years

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The Neighbour [0.3]

Something was irrevocably different with Remington; Emerson picked it off right away. On an early Tuesday afternoon, with the air thick and humid and the sun beating down like a plague (no pun intended), Remington was fussing over himself more than usual. He had changed out of four or five different outfits, playing with his hair, and was it appropriate for him to wear makeup? Eva hadn't seen him with it on, yet. No, it was probably best to keep it casual for now. Then again, he had a fantastic highlight that worked absolute magic under the sun...

It was around eleven thirty when Remington finally came down, dressed down but still presentable in a simple pair of ripped skinny jeans and a t-shirt. Emerson and Shy were sat on the couch as they watched Netflix, Pepper situated between them. Remington stopped short when he saw the pair cuddled up on the couch, he smiled deviously.

"Eugh! You guys are so flippin' cute it's gross!" he gushed, putting on his diva voice.

Shy chuckled softly, "Hi Rem,"

Emerson's attention diverted to his older brother, intrigued to see him all ready to go out somewhere.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Coffee with Eva," Remington replied simply.

"The neighbour with the cat?" Shy said.

"Yeah," Remington nodded, "Emerson tell you she gave us a loaf of bread last week?"

"He did," she smiled, "Poor thing, I felt for her. She looked so flustered at the pool,"

"Well, moving is a bitch already. Throw in Covid 19 and you got a real thorn in the ass," Emerson said, then turning back to his brother, "You gonna' be social distancing?"

"We're going to drink our coffee and walk around in the park," Remington replied, "She works from home anyway,"

"So, who asked who for the coffee?" Emerson asked.

Remington shrugged, stopping at the hallway mirror to fix his hair again, "She brought up how she hasn't had a chance to get around the neighbourhood, so I offered, she accepted. She has our vinyl too,"

"Which one?" Emerson asked.

"Boom Boom Room,"

"Side A or B?"

"A,"

"I'd approve either way,"

Shy couldn't help but subconsciouly squeeze Emerson's arm, a glimmer of excitement bursting behind her eyes, "So, she's a fan, too?"

"Took her a minute to figure it out. Didn't even bring up Em or Seb, so clearly she pays more attention to me," the blonde smirked.

Emerson glowered at his brother, "Yeah, yeah, go for your cup of fuck-off-ee," he grumbled.

Across the street, with her room strewn in discarded clothes that just didn't make the cut, Eva finally felt confident standing in her denim skirt and black tee. On any other day she'd have paired the ensemble with her pleather jacket, but it was too damn hot out. Even with the window letting in a cool breeze, the air was uncomfortably humid. What did she expect when moving from the Emerald City to Los Angeles?

Eva made sure to close and latch the window shut before she left, not eager for Pluto to go off on another reign of terror. Stopping to grab a fresh face mask, her phone suddenly began to vibrate in her purse. She figured it might have been Remington sending her a text, but the screen flashed to the Blocked Caller ID. Eva rolled her eyes and denied the call.

Stepping out into the humidity, Eva waved her hand over her face as she stepped out of the complex courtyard, just at the same time Remington was locking the door to his house. As soon as she caught his eye, he was all smiles.

She was glad to see him; a little relieved, even. He looked cool, cool enough to appear on some grungy magazine cover. All he needed to complete the look was a cigarette and maybe a skateboard, too. The messy blonde hair, the glimmer in his eyes brought back the warmth she associated with his presence and as she came to meet him at his car, his spicy cologne danced up her nose and imprinted itself in her olfactory memory.

Remington had never been more wary of how his hands shook, his left hand he stuffed into his jean pocket and the right he gripped his car keys with a vice-esque grip. He found himself mesmerized briefly by the fit of her skirt, her black t-shirt tucked in smoothly but not too tight to over expose her figure, but just enough to give Remington an idea. Her short brown hair fell delicately over her face, one side pushed back behind her ears and exposing her stormy blue eyes to the sunshine. She was the embodiment of innocence and grunge wrapped into a perfect five-foot-six package.

"Glad you didn't stand me up," he grinned.

"Well, I kind of happen to live right over there," she drawled, pointing to her balcony, "It'd be kind of awkward and hard to hide if I tried,"

"You look really nice," he nodded after a brief moment.

"So do you," she agreed with confidence, "Where we off to?"

There was a forested park not far from where they lived. Despite the pandemic, the fields were filled with older kids playing games of soccer and basketball, there were vendors out trying to sell their ice cream, a couple girls were scattered across the grass and sunbathing. It almost all seemed so normal, if not for the fact that the kid's jungle gym had been fenced off so no child could climb upon it.

The pair walked side-by-side, him with his iced black coffee and her with a green tea frapp -- no whipping cream. The gravel path they walked was shaded by a canopy of lush green trees, providing some relief from the hammering heat. Remington kept his gaze locked on her, worried to miss a moment where she'd crack a smile or briefly run her tongue over her lips. Her fingers appeared so dainty yet he could spot the small calluses at the middle joint of her thumb, and some paper cuts on her middle and index fingers.

"So, how does a ghostwriter get hired?" Remington asked, "Do you just openly advertise 'hey! If you're a lazy author, come hire me'?"

"No," Eva shook her head with a giggle, "I used to write articles for the newsletter at my college, and then a friend of mine forwarded me an email about a client who was looking for a ghostwriter. I didn't know much about it but the money was pretty good. It was a grant application for requesting financial aid for survivors of residential schools,"

"Sounds depressing," Remington said.

"It was pretty heavy shit," Eva admitted, "But, I did get fifteen-hundred for a six page application. Well worth it, I'd say,"

Remington blew an impressed whistle, "So you make pretty good money off of this?"

"Let's just say my student debt has decreased significantly since I took up the profession," and she took a brief sip of her drink.

"You ever publish anything under your own name?" he asked, "Eva Kuznetsov is a cute pen name. Evelina sounds more mature, though..."

Eva shrugged, "I think about it sometimes... but it's just easier to write under someone else's name and let them have all the glory. Say, if they happen to do something stupid to forever tarnish their career, that won't come back to bite me in the ass,"

Remington smirked, "Like a particular fantasy author who's made some pretty heavy comments concerning the trans community?"

"Let's not even talk about that, my heart still breaks when I think about it," Eva sighed, "To answer your question, however, if I got confident enough I may try to publish something in the future,"

"What else do you like to write?"

Eva opened her mouth but closed it quickly, pressing together her petunia pink lips as she visibly swallowed whatever words were about to pass through them. When she looked up at Remington again, his brown eyes dark like soaked coffee grinds that sent her into a caffeinated headrush. What would he think if she actually told him...

"I write poems, some short stories," she somewhat lied.

Remington's smile grew wider, mischief glimmering over his face like light beams reflecting over windchimes in a saturated dusk, "You hesitated just now," he spoke curiously, "What else do you write?"

Eva glanced down at the ground, a nervous giggle bubbling out and knocking the air out of her lungs, "Okay listen, don't judge me, it's just a hobby of mine,"

"Oh God!" Remington gasped, "Do you write porn?"

Eva laughed again, her pale cheeks flushing in red, "Well... I do happen write some naughty shit... in my fanfictions,"

Remington stopped dead in his tracks, taken aback by her answer. He totally thought she would say something along the lines of erotic fiction on a platform like Literotica. For understandable reasons, he had some mixed emotions about fanfictions.

"What kind of fanfiction?" he asked, somewhat bordering on the third degree.

"... Um..." she glanced at him again, the smirk on his lips compelling more giggles to burst from hers. She pressed her hands together over her nose and mouth, and Remington laughed as well.

"Okay listen, I promise," he put his right hand over his chest, "I promise I will not judge you for whatever smut you write for whoever," he assured her.

"It's not... yeah, I guess it kind of is," Eva chuckled nervously, "I usually write for stuff like Criminal Minds, but more lately I've gotten into writing for Euphoria..." she trailed off, timid as she waited for his response.

"Alright, that's actually not bad," he nodded, "I'll be honest, you didn't strike me as somebody who write fanfics,"

Eva glanced timidly at her scuffed sneakers, kicking up pebbles and dust, "Are fanfic writers supposed to look a certain way?"

"I don't know, actually," he simpered.

"I don't tell a lot of people that I do it, mainly because their first impression is either 'what the fuck' or 'OMG we should collaborate' and I'm just like," she hung her head back, "Nooo!"

"You're more of a soloist then a team player, then?" he teased.

"Let's just say I tend to work better alone," she replied, shrugging her shoulders as though the comment should mean nothing. But Remington found it odd that Eva was out here all on her own, never brought up her friends or family. He didn't see many personal effects in her apartment, neither.

"Is that why you're out here by yourself?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" she replied.

"Well... don't take this the wrong way, but I haven't really seen you with anybody. You don't talk about your friends or your family,"

Eva shrugged again, "They're all back in Seattle. Besides, opportunity was drying up over there and I just wanted a fresh start," she said, "Besides, Pluto's my friend,"

"Well, that's a given," he replied, "Are your parents up in Seattle?"

"My dad is," she nodded, "I don't know what my mom's doing," Remington's silent was her cue to go on, "I um... we haven't really spoken, her and I,"

"You have a falling out?" he asked suddenly.

Eva glared down at the gravel again, "You can call it that. She's a pilot and she's always flying, and so you know, I never really got to see much of her growing up. And then, she suddenly shows up for my college graduation and expects us to be one big happy family, like she has it in her head that she can make up for all the birthdays and shit she's missed. And I just didn't know what to say to her. I don't know who she is, but she's my mom," she glanced up at Remington again, "And I don't know why I'm telling you all of this,"

Remington wasn't bothered by her unloading, it seemed as though Eva needed to get things off her chest more than she realized. Her smile was sardonic and her voice petty like a comedian on stage, putting on the brave 'I don't give a fuck anymore' face.

"I find sometimes it's easier to unload to new people then it is to your friends," he said, "What does your dad do?"

"Chem professor. Which is ironic because I seriously sucked at chemistry," she replied.

"Show me a kid who didn't struggle in chem, honestly," he said, "But do you get along with your dad?"

"For the most part," she chuckled, "He's still confused as to why I choose to write anonymously, but that's his problem. What do your parents do?"

Remington chewed on the inside of his cheek, "My mom's kind of like our manager. Does a lot of production and behind the scenes stuff. And I haven't seen my dad for nearly twenty years,"

Eva was silent for a moment, studying him. He spoke with a firm grin, yet still trying to shadow that flicker of sadness within his face.

"So we both have parental issues... that's nice to know," she put on a teasing grin, "Maybe that's why we make such good friends?"

Remington swallowed thickly, "So, you are indeed confirming we are friends?"

"I am," she smiled, "It'd be nice to have whatever few I can scrape up,"

"That fact that you also live across the street means that you're now stuck with me," Remington grinned with pride.

"True," Eva hummed appreciatively, taking another sip of her drink, "Somehow, I don't think I'll mind, though,"

When Remington drove her home she gave him a sweet and polite goodbye, a hug which made his confident exterior falter for a second long enough for her to witness it through the flush in his cheeks and his lack of response. His words tripped over the length of his tongue when he tried to flush out a proper goodbye and he felt his hands began to quiver again.

And when he went to open his door, he took one last glance. The small brunette turned at the same time and met his gaze, but he was too far away to hear her sharp inhale. And when he finally went inside he fall back against the door, staring into space with the biggest grin he'd had on since... well, he couldn't remember when he last felt so excited.

#remington leith #Remington Leith imagine #palaye royale #Palaye Royale imagine #Palaye Royale fic #sebastian danzig #emerson barrett #boy bands #band imagines #band imagine blog #original story #original female character

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ducktracy · 4 years

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174. get rich quick porky (1937)

release date: august 28th, 1937

series: looney tunes

director: bob clampett

starring: mel blanc (porky), cal howard (gabby), earle hodgins (honest john)

another cartoon that entails a lengthy preface!

while this is bob clampett’s second piece as a director, it’s the first cartoon where he has full control of the helm. his previous entry, porky’s badtime story, was started by ub iwerks, who as preceded the unit. but, technically, clampett was co-directing with chuck jones.

here’s where the famous Clampett-Jones rivalry settles in. bob clampett and chuck jones did not get along. even friz freleng mentioned that they had been fighting like kids since they WERE kids, which is very true. clampett and jones would have both been 24 at the time of the cartoon’s release, jones turning 25 in september. chuck jones thought that he was co-directing the shorts with clampett, doing character layouts (which WAS a very hefty job and considered a director’s job) while clampett did the writing and timing of the shorts. however, the credits only credit clampett and not jones, so jones assumed that clampett had deliberately gotten rid of jones’ credit (to which clampett didn’t have any control over). jones would therefore hold this grudge against clampett all the way to the grave--they were bitter rivals, and chuck especially was very outspoken about his disdain and contempt towards clampett. it’s unfortunate how such a big misunderstanding can be inflated into such a bitter rivalry, and even more unfortunate to see two great talents go against each other, but that explains that. we’re here to analyze their great cartoons, not gossip about them! (...well, not ALL the time, anyway.)

a second extra little treat is that this cartoon has an animator’s draft, courtesy of devon baxter, so that we can see who animated every single scene! devon also has a breakdown video posted so you can see the credits in conjunction with the assigned animation. thanks a bunch, devon!

gabby goat sings his swan song in this fun, light-hearted clampett entry tentatively titled the oily bird gets porky: porky and gabby are easily swindled by honest john, a snake oil (emphasis on the oil portion!) salesman who scams the boys into thinking they’ve struck it rich digging for oil.

“when my dreamboat comes home” fittingly scores the title card as the cartoon opens. in some clever signage play, the camera trucks back to reveal the title card posted on a sign--the screen fades out, fading back in to reveal a new sign (now scored with the appropriate “with plenty of money and you”) advertising “oh! ~~~ just oodles of oil!”, with the oil typography actually dripping, courtesy of norm mccabe.

john carey provides the animation of the facetiously named honest john, the antagonistic oil huckster of the film. a fun bit of clampett continuity: from 1959-1962, clampett would make a cartoon adaptation of his hit puppet series time for beany. one of the characters, the show’s antagonist, was actually named dishonest john! honest john chuffs on a cigarette (his wealth and snootiness indicated by the cigarette holder he sports) as a truck driver asks where to deposit his “erl”. john, voiced by earle hodgins, redirects the trucker to park around the fence. it is then that john attaches a hose from the oil tank attached to the truck to a sprinkler system, and presto! sweet, bubbling “erl” spouts up from hidden sprinklers within a patch of land. carey’s animation is very smooth and dimensional, a telltale trait of his work.

satisfied, john now opts to search for his next pair of suckers (”ahem. i should say prospects. someone with a little money to invest in...”) lo and behold, his pair of suckers are right across the street, marching up to the bank.

said suckers, are, of course, porky and gabby, now cast as children. for porky especially, his age was inconsistent in the ‘30′s and early ‘40′s cartoons--sometimes he was a child, sometimes he was an adult. more often than not, he was a young adult, and would obviously remain that way through the vast majority of his filmography, but there are a few exceptions, such as here. after all, he did debut as a school child. bobe cannon animates the closeup of the duo at the bank, porky toting a bag of money. gabby, voiced here by storyman cal howard as opposed to mel blanc, urges porky not to store away his money (”let’s buy us a car, or a yacht, or a trip to europe, or a chocolate soda or somethin’!), but porky refuses. “uh-uh, i’m eh-geh-geh-geh-gonna sock my eh-meh-mo-mo--dough in here and get eh-teh-teh-two percent!” bobe’s animation of porky is easy to spot in the clampett toons, especially around 1938-1939, where he would typically draw porky with buck teeth.

suddenly, honest john swoops in himself to stop the boys from going any further. he introduces himself as john gusher, doing some gushing of his own as he describes how fortune is going to smile down upon them. jerry hathcock’s timing is excellent as he shows the kid his card, zipping it out of his pocket and back in again at the blink of an eye. without giving the boys any time to think for themselves, john pushes the kids to the oil site, ranting and raving about the wondrous business opportunity before them. to demonstrate, john jabs his cane into the soil, where a mini oil gusher spurts up on command--”presto!”

more succinct comedic timing as john, finally winding down his spiel, concludes “i won’t take any more of your valuable time. a little parting word, let me say...” after a pause, he jumps right back in with a breathless delivery of “this land is so saturated with oil that you can literally wring it out with your fingers!” he does, of course, just that, much to the delight of the kids.

john carey takes over and does a rather impressive little scene of porky and gabby contemplating signing the deed. gabby urges porky on, telling him that they won’t get another chance like this (prompting a rather humorous delivery of “uh... ‘til death do us part” from earle hodgins as john.) carey’s animation is extremely smooth, brimming with subtle character action. porky and gabby’s differences shine, but also unite: gabby is much more outspoken about his eagerness to sign the deed, nudging porky and literally pushing him to sign the deed. porky, on the other hand, is more cautious and timid, having to mull it over by thinking and tapping his chin with the pen. but, of course, porky shares gabby’s excitement--it doesn’t take much for him to change his mind. he signs the deed, gabby excitedly looming over his shoulder. even the animation of john tapping and signaling towards the deed is well crafted. john carey’s animation is very appealing--once chuck jones would leave the clampett unit, carey would take over as his layout man, all the way until 1941 when he moved to norm mccabe’s unit.

the boys are now excused, free to dig for oil. the shift from minor to major key in the underscore of “with plenty of money and you” reflects their excitement as they rush to get the equipment. bobe cannon animates gabby drilling into the soil--he strikes something, and sure enough, he hauls up an entire canister of oil. he’s delighted, rather than outraged or confused at being scammed, gleefully remarking “porky, look! oil!”

thus sparks the B plot of the cartoon. this isn’t as segmented as other clampett cartoons with A and B plots as, say, porky’s party, but it’s a start--clampett would sort of introduce the concept of having A and B plots in his cartoons, which wasn’t quite something that existed before in pre-existing warner bros. cartoons (off the top of my head, anyway.) a stray dog stumbles upon the oil site, curiously approaching the dirt pile left by porky as he digs for sweet, sweet “erl”. much to the dog’s delight, porky digs up a bone, which the dog takes away and buries for himself. the scene (animated by bill hammer) definitely takes inspiration after the rising popularity in pluto cartoons over at disney, demonstrating that WB wasn’t entirely free from the disney stranglehold just yet.

as the dog digs, the bone is suddenly propelled into the air by a mini-gusher. dog carefully covers the gusher by lowering the bone down, but gets smacked in the face in the process as the gusher propels upwards once more. bill hammer was an animator over at the iwerks unit, and a bit of that iwerks flavor is still present in the dizzy lines hammer animates after the dog gets struck in the head with the bone. resigned, the pooch covers the hole back up, only to get squirted in the eye by another gusher. and, to top it all off, we have more Naughty Clampett Humor as the gusher from before brushes against the dog’s nether regions, prompting him to giggle delightedly. this isn’t the first nor last gag of its kind in a warner bros cartoon--especially a clampett cartoon! frantically, the dog attempts to plug up all of the rapidly appearing gushers beneath him, a double-exposure technique used to convey the urgency of his plight. gushers prevail as the pup is launched into the air, propelled by a stream of oil beneath each paw. in all, the scene drags along and definitely plays into that “curious puppy” humor filled with polite chuckles, but some of hammer’s poses and facial expressions make for a treat.

back to the boys in the next sequence, handled by bobe cannon. gabby, perched on a jackhammer, asks porky how to operate it, but he immediately begins drilling uncontrollably before he can finish his sentence. cal howard’s vocals as gabby are amusing, especially his ad-libbed cries for help--his gabby is less scratchy and high pitched than mel’s gabby, and instead deeper voiced and more goat-like in inflection, sounding like he’s bleating at certain points. porky rushes to speak into the hole that gabby dug himself into, anxiously asking “uh-guh-eh-guh-eh-gabby! uh-weh-eh-where are ya?” gabby answers his query by digging out of an adjacent hole, breaking cartoon physics by drilling and floating upside down in the air. he manages to land safely, the drill stopping just enough for him to chew porky out for not helping him. and, of course, the drill starts up again, sending gabby within the earth’s soil once more. porky asks if he’s alright, prompting a bleat-y “what do you think!?” from an offscreen gabby. it should be noted that the underscore here is, of course, “the merry go round broke down”, a rather fitting and amusing choice. interestingly enough, clampett’s next entry, roval’s rival, would be the first cartoon to debut that song as the looney tunes theme song, which would be used all the way up until the last short in 1969.

chuck jones hones in on one of his three specialties: dogs (the others being drunks and close-ups--sometimes all three at once!) he animates the malcontent pooch fiddling with his bone. a bump in the ground, and a gopher pops up, doing a little twirl in the process, bugs bunny style, like a magic trick. clampett always fostered a love of magic tricks, and this fascination pokes through in this scene. the gopher signals for the dog’s attention before ducking inside the hole, much to the dog’s delight--a hole to bury his bone into! as he tosses the bone inside, he’s treated with a rude awakening as the bone is hurled right back up out of the hole. jones’ timing varies wonderfully--the dog is slow to put his bone back in the hole, but once he does he jumps to cover it up quickly, resulting in some intriguing psuedo-smears. after all, it would be his own cartoon, the dover boys at pimento university, that really brought the magic of smears to life. the animation of the dog twitching his eye on one’s is another great touch.

the gopher returns to bonk the dog on the head with the bone, which segues into a series of magic tricks (scored fittingly with “she was an acrobat’s daughter”.) the gopher shrinks the bone into his hand, reducing it to nothingness, much to the befuddlement of the pooch. tried and true, the gopher brings the bone out from behind the dog’s ear, pointing at it excitedly as the pup can only stare in bewilderment. gopher buries the bone, signaling for the dog to dig it back up. delighted, fido digs for his beloved bone, and is greeted with a spurt of oil right in the face. to top it off, the gopher brings the bone out from the recesses of the dog’s mouth, ending the show by retreating back in his hole. heartbroken, the pup begins to cry mournfully, pounding his fists against the ground and kicking his legs. in all, the scene is a very nice one. not very snappy, but chuck’s timing is full of momentum and personality, and his drawings are very appearing. there are some angles of the dog’s head that just SCREAM chuck jones--they look like something straight out of one of his cartoons. some aspects of these magic tricks, such as the gopher shrinking the bone to nothingness, would be used in chuck’s own cartoon, prest-o change-o, a mere two years later in 1939. the gopher itself IS very bugs bunny-esque in execution.

transition back to our piggy protagonist, hacking away at the ground with a pick-axe. he hits a sweet spot, excitedly reaching for his bucket as oil spurts out of the ground. just as he’s able to collect a few drops, we cut to our favorite huckster john, who snickers as he turns the hose valve off, thus eliminating the geyser. porky digs again, this time striking one of the sprinkler systems connected to the hose. we get a closeup, where porky is squirted straight in the eye by the hose.

honest john himself opts to scope things out. “what’s the matter, sonny boy? you aren’t discouraged, are you?” porky displays his childlike innocence (a property that would carry on to his adult years as well, but is especially strong here since he is a kid in this picture) as he wipes away his tears. “you’re je-je-je-just a crook, and i want my muh-me-muh-me-muh-me-money back!” john, ever the haggler, proposes that porky return the deed in return for a $1 bill.

norm mccabe takes over from john hathcock, whose animation is muddied by noticeably poor inking. pan to the ground, where we see a black slick hiding under the soil, the words “OIL!” bubbling up to make its appearance obvious, with gabby drilling dangerously close to it. pan back up to more norm mccabe animation, a switch--clampett LOVED to switch his animators around. so much so that identifying his later cartoons can be infuriatingly difficult because he would switch his animators in the middle of a scene out of seemingly nowhere. he wasn’t the only director to do this, but he certainly did it often. nevertheless, we pan back to porky and john. porky trepidatiously prepares to hand john the deed, who greets it with outstretched hands. just as gloves prepare to make contact with paper, gabby strikes the “SAME OIL!”, the typography playfully melting into a true oil geyser as goat, weasel, and pig are all catapulted into the air by a real, genuine gusher, scored by (what else?) “we’re in the money”. the layout of the oil geyser raining down upon the camera is at a nice up-angle, very tashlin-esque and intricate, if only for a second or two.

gabby still drills aimlessly around on the geyser as porky, holding onto the deed with john, remarks “a guh-gusher! i’m r-ri--i’m w-we-weal--i’m a buh-be-buh-be-buh-billionaire!” suddenly, porky realizes he’s still holding onto the deed with john, and thus sparking a tug of war between the two as he stutters threats (”i’ll tell my be-be-big brother on you!”) to the huckster.

thankfully, gabby, who has been drilling aimlessly for the past few minutes, saves the day by accidentally drilling into the back of john’s pants. earle hodgins’ screams are hilarious (and sound almost genuine), as is bill hammer’s animation of the weasel being held hostage by the drill running around in the back of his pants. the deed is now in porky’s clutches, who grabs gabby and pulls the both of them to the ground. hammer’s drawings of porky especially in this last shot of them preparing to fall down are very, VERY appealing and cute.

both kids on the ground, porky holds up the white, elongated object in his hand, gleefully declaring he got the deed... or so he thinks. jerry hathcock does porky’s closeup as he realizes the precious deed he holds in his hand is, in fact, a bone.

dejected, the kids are left to mope, until a little bump in the ground comes to solve all of their problems. chuck jones animates the final scene of the Magic Gopher coming in to save the day: porky hands him the bone, and, much to his head-shaking surprise, is met with the deed right in the gopher’s hands after just a flick of the wrists. porky reaches out for the deed, prompting the gopher to shake his finger--always a catch.

“partners? 50-50, even steven?” porky nods. with the deal made, the gopher helpfully rips the deed in half, giving porky the bottom half. iris out on the gopher winking, holding up the top half of the deed (emblazoned as such) in victory.

while this isn’t the most rousing clampett entry of them all, it’s certainly one that i revisit quite often and am rather fond of. it has plenty of fun and intriguing animation--john carey’s scene of the boys signing the deed is just fantastic. his animation is very grounded and smooth. while the psuedo-pluto scenes aren’t the most exciting pieces of work around, the chuck jones sequence with the gopher and dog are especially impressive, highlighting just how strong jones’ draftmanship was. clampett’s cartoons became much more wild and loose after jones left the unit (just look at porky in wackyland), and chuck certainly seemed to ground clampett, but at the same time, the lack of jones’ draftsmanship was rather apparent upon his exit. he’s a very strong force, and that sequence with the dog is no exception. earle hodgins does a great job as honest john, as well as voicing salesmen in general--he was also the salesman in tex avery’s porky the rainmaker a year earlier. i love mel blanc to death and have nothing but praises to shower him in, but it is always fun to have other people like earle hodgins to come up and voice characters alongside him. cal howard does a fine job as gabby, too.

speaking of gabby, as i mentioned earlier, this is his final cartoon. i have this odd fascination with gabby. these clampett cartoons i’m going to be reviewing are some of the first LT cartoons i watched as an adult, and therefore have a fonder place in my heart than others. so, watching the iwerks cartoons that clampett was heavily involved in, gabby was introduced to me VERY early on and i’ve been fascinated with him since. out of his three entries, he became more and more watered down: his fury and anger is practically nonexistent here in comparison to how bitter he was in porky and gabby. while i find him interesting, i don’t shed too many tears over his absence--daffy will always be porky’s best sidekick, and i’m not saying that because i’m biased! nevertheless, gabby is an interesting enigma, serving as WB’s failed attempt at a donald duck for porky’s mickey (who is much richer in personality than mickey himself, as we’ll explore, much to my unbridled excitement!) gabby WAS slated to return in porky’s party, alongside petunia, but was instead scrapped for a penguin character instead. thus, gabby would take a near 80 year absence, being revived in 2018 in wabbit/new looney tunes, voiced by bob bergen.

so, overall, i recommend this cartoon! i view it more fondly than it probably needs to be viewed, but it’s a fun, early entry that makes for a good, leisurely watch.

link!

#lt #looney tunes #get rich quick porky #clampett #reviews #long post #i'm gonna try putting a readmore so i don't clutter up dashes.. but please read it! i don't want that to make these get less exposure #i don't do these for clout of course i do it for educational purposes because i want to share my passion and love for these cartoons with #you guys so you know what's going on and why i love these cartoons so much #but i don't spend 5 hours on one cartoon for 0 notes yaknow? so if the reviews with readmores get significantly less traction/overlooked #then i'll stop 'em. but we'll see...!

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oskea93 · 5 years

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Think of You Part Seven (part 1)

A/N: Hey guys! I just want to thank you guys for the continued support for Think of You. I’m so glad that all of you enjoy the story. I enjoy writing Caroline and the gang. Out of all the stories i’ve ever written, Caroline and Mac are my favorite OCs. I hope you like them as well! Okay, so i’ve broken chapter seven up into two parts. The first part was a little goofy and filler-ish, but the second part will be more dramatic (ie Nikki and Caroline interactions). Without further waiting, here’s chapter seven! PS: Sorry if there are any grammatical mistakes. I’ll try to go back and fix them at a later time!

Have you ever watched a movie where the main girl sleeps with the main guy and then quietly sneaks of the room the next morning? You sometimes wonder how she’s being so quiet or how the guy can sleep like a log while she’s leaving the bed or getting dressed. Even though I’ve had those thoughts, I never imagined that I would have to figure those things out for myself. I remember getting to this point but I couldn’t believe I let it actually happen. It took almost a year for my ex-boyfriend to get me into his bed. He tried from the very beginning but I brushed off his advances and told him I wasn’t ready. It took Nikki Sixx less than 4 hours to not only bless me with the way his tongue worked but also have me screaming his name as he pounded into me. Oh gosh, that sounds so gross! Long story short- Nikki and I had sex. We had sex numerous times that night and it was amazing! Even though I was in eternal bliss last night and the early part of this morning, I was now regretting every single action I let happen yesterday. First of all, I regretted ever going to the concert. If I just stayed home and watched TV and folded laundry like I planned, this would have never happened. I would still have some sort of dignity. Hell, my poor dignity was left at that stupid concert venue on that slimy couch.

I looked over at Nikki, taking him in as he slept. Even though he was attractive when he was awake, he was even cuter while he slept. Part of me just wanted to stay and enjoy being wrapped in his arms. It felt nice. The other part of me, the side with all the judgment, was telling me to leave and leave fast. It was as if my brain was fighting with my heart, unfortunately my brain was winning. I had all these consequences running through my brain. What if he just used me for sex? He was a musician. He knew that he could have any girl he wanted and I was probably just a play thing for the night. He got what he wanted and I would never hear from him again. Did I want that? Even though I haven’t known him that long, I enjoyed spending time with him. He got on my nerves, and he still does, but I enjoyed being around him. I liked the way he laughed. His laugh was weird and cute at the same time. I liked how his eyes stared into your sole. He had gorgeous green eyes. He was so smart, too.

It seemed like he was an overall catch but I he was way too dangerous for me. He was in a rock band for one. He had tattoos. He sang and played music that mentioned Satanism. The most dangerous part of him was that he was utterly gorgeous and there was no way I could stay away. Why was he so damn pretty!

I decided that I needed to get out of there before he woke up. I didn’t want to deal with the awkward post sex talk. Granted, I’ve never had an awkward post sex encounter but I didn’t want to start now. I don’t think I ever had a regular morning after encounter. I’ve only had sex like four times, this making five, and I’ve always woken up by myself. That makes you feel really crappy. You think that you’ve spent the night with a great person and then you wake up alone and confused. Oh. That’s exactly what I was about to do.

I looked back at Nikki. Did I really want to leave him alone in bed after what happened between us? Would he be mad? Maybe he’d be cool with it. I’m such a terrible person!

I slowly removed myself from his grasp, trying my best not to wake him up. The poor guy had a vice grip on, I guess afraid that I would leave at some point. I basically crawled out of bed and landed on the floor with a light thud. I peered over the mattress to make sure the noise didn’t wake him. He was still sound asleep. The sheets that covered us were laying low on his stomach, making my heart race a bit. My new alter-ego, let’s call her Veronica, wanted nothing more than to pounce on him and replay last night all over again. After a couple of seconds, I decided that that coast was clear. I pulled my naked body off the ground and started looking for my clothes. The only article of clothing I could find was my romper. I had no idea where my underwear was and one of my shoe was missing. I quickly pulled on the romper and tried looking for the other shoe. Luckily, I found it near the bathroom door. I slipped on my sandals, trying not to look at myself in the mirror that just so happened to be in front of the bed. I looked at that plenty enough last night. My hair-tie was around my wrist, allowing me to pull my messy hair into an even messier bun. I grabbed my purse from the bedside chair and tip-toed out the bedroom door.

People were passed out everywhere.

Some people had all of their clothes on, while others were barely covered. There were alcohol bottles littered all over the floor, along with cigarette buds crushed into the carpet. I felt bad for whoever owned this house. I quickly made my way out the door and to the edge of the street. I remembered that the house was close to the strip. I made my way down the street, trying not pay attention to that passed me. You could definitely tell that I just had a one night stand. I didn’t have any undergarments on and my hair was piled on top of my head. My love bites, which had doubled, were on full display. The people that passed me probably thought I was a hooker or groupie. Was I a groupie? What exactly is a groupie? I’ll have to ask Mac when I get home; I’m sure she knows that answer to that.

Oh gosh, Mackenzie. Our conversation from last night flooded my memory. I could tell that she was mad at me for not answering her question. I can’t believe I lied to her. She’s my best friend. I shouldn’t have lied about what I did with Nikki. She would probably congratulate me for what I had done. I’m gonna have to call her when I get home. Maybe I should have stayed with Nikki. If I stayed, I wouldn’t be walking down the Sunset Strip in search of a taxi. What if there isn’t a taxi available this early? I didn’t even know what time it was? The sun was pretty high in the sky but I still couldn’t tell you the time. My dad tried to teach me all that wilderness stuff when I was younger but it never stuck. I was more interested in my Barbie dolls and helping my mom in the kitchen. “Taxi!”

After three failed attempts at haling a taxi, I finally made it back home. I immediately stripped out of my clothes and stepped into the shower. I allowed the hot water to wash away the sins that I had just committed. I didn’t realize how sore my body was until the hot water hit my skin. I also didn’t realize the extent of the love bites Nikki had left. They were everywhere! I had them on my neck, my chest, my hipbones, and my inner thighs. He just worked his way down, leaving his mark as he went. The ones of my neck were very noticeable and I had to be at work tomorrow. I never had to deal with a hickey before. I for sure didn’t know how to hide them from the world. How was I supposed to show up to my class tomorrow with bruises all over my neck? It’s like a bruise, right? Maybe I could say that the vacuum cleaner went rouge and attacked me. You’re so stupid, Caroline. The kids would probably believe that lie but their parents would not. Why did I let him do this to me? I could get fired for showing up with hickeys all over my body. I worked at a Christian school for goodness sake!

I removed myself from the shower, wrapping a towel around my body. I had a couple of errands to run today and I also need to speak to Mac. I knew that she was mad at me last night. I had every intention of talking to her last night but Nikki had other plans. I quickly dressed and allowed my hair to air dry. I made a list of the things I needed from the grocery store and headed out. My mind was going a mile a minute with the thoughts of last night and what exactly it all meant. I had sex with a guy I barely knew but my heart had feelings for the guy. Sure, he was obnoxious and into himself, but there was something intriguing about him. He had a mystery to him and I wanted to solve it and claim him as mine. Wow, never thought I would think that about a guy. Another thing that made me want him was that he was so not my type. From a scale from being my type to not being my type, Nikki was on another planet. My type was Earth and he was Pluto. He was an unknown planet that held secrets and darkness that I needed to lighten. I wanted to be the sun to his dark little planet. Okay, that’s a bit weird…

NIKKI’S POV!

You know when you meet someone and they are unlike anyone you’ve ever met? Well, Caroline Daniels was that person to me. She was different from the girls that threw themselves at the band or even those that walked around on the strip. Hell, she was different from any girl that I’ve ever met in my life. She had a shyness about it but I could tell that she had a wild streak hiding somewhere. She was quirky and kind of nerdy, but in an adorable way. She was so fucking smart! She wasn’t like the airheads that Vince associated with. I think she ever said she was a teacher? I could have just made that part up but that’s beside the point. Caroline has been the only girl that’s made me chase after her. Most girls throw themselves on me as a dash and fuck. We fuck and then they dash away to the next member. I’ve had girls in my bed one minute and the next they are in Tommy’s. It was a revolving door of chicks that wanted to fuck us. With Caroline, I had to chase after her. I had to be the one that puts myself on the line and hope for the best. From the moment I saw her at the concert, I knew that she was the girl I needed to be with. I know that sounds super cheesy but it’s the truth. I remember the first time I saw her. My heart started to beat faster and my pants grew tighter than they had been. She defiantly had an effect on my dick, but her effect on my heart was more powerful. It kind of pissed me off that she walked out of the concert. We were killing it and she walks out like she’s uninterested. She must have been interested because I saw her return a few minutes later. Once I fully got a chase to see her at the restaurant, I knew that I was in love. (Cheesy moment again). I’m Nikki fucking Sixx, I’m not supposed to fall in love with girls. I’m a fucker, not a lover!

I tried to get Tommy to ask her friend what her address was so that I could see her. I thought maybe she would be excited but it seemed to piss her off. I thought she was gonna call the cops on my at one point. I think the true icing on the cake was when I convinced Tommy’s chick to invite her to dinner. I asked the girl to tell her that it would just be the two of them. I needed to talk to her and that was the only way I could get her alone without showing up at her place. She was pissed at first but she started letting her guard down. I guess I broke through enough because she showed up to the concert and we all know what happened after the show! Like I said, I barely know her, but I can’t get enough of her. I think I might even be in love with her…

I woke up the next morning expecting to find Caroline next to me. A smile formed on my face as I remember what had happened last night and into this morning. It was fast at first. We tore each other’s clothes off like a bunch of animals. I had her screaming my name so loud the people outside were cheering us on. I don’t even think we made it to the bed to be honest. I’m pretty sure I took her against the wall that first time. I think we christened the whole room. At one point, I remember fucking her on the dresser, that was amazing! We took a break here and there but the last time was special, at least I think so. It was slow and very intimate. The room was dark and quiet. It was just her and I. We had a connection that sent sparks throughout my body. It was the best sex I’ve ever had. I had every intention of taking her again this morning but she wasn’t here. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement. I was actually kind of pissed that she just left without saying goodbye. Granted, I probably wouldn’t have let her go, but she could have at least tried to say goodbye.

I slowly removed myself from the bed, stretching my sore muscles in the process. I pulled on my pants from last night, along with my boots, and made my way out to the main room. I didn’t bother putting my shirt back on as I stepped over the bodies of the party-goers. I made my way out the front door and over to my car, slipping my sunglasses on before starting the engine. I drove the distance to what I remembered was the location, trying my best not to get lost. Once I was sure this was the place, I parked the car, quickly pulling my discarded shirt back on, before heading up the metal staircase.

Apt #17 I knocked on the wooden door. I tried to listen for incoming footsteps but the traffic was making it hard to hear. I waited a couple more seconds before knocking again. Her curtains were closed so I could peep to see if she was just ignoring me. Hell, she could have been in her bedroom ignoring me for all I knew.

“She’s not home.” A male’s voice sounded. I turned my head to see an elderly man and woman leaving the apartment next to Caroline’s. “She left about 20 minutes ago.”

I cleared my throat, “Uh-“ I began. “Thanks.” I muttered.

The couple looked me over, disapproval flooding their eyes. “How do you know Caroline, son?” The man asked. His wife whispered to him not to interfere but he held up a hand to silence her. “Caroline’s a good girl. She doesn’t need a gutter rat such as yourself clouding her judgment.” I couldn’t help but laugh in his face. If he only knew how good a girl she actually was. He would be very surprised if I informed him of her actions yesterday and last night.

“Whatever, dude.” I muttered. I could tell the old man wanted to say something else, but I didn’t feel like hearing what he had to say. I sauntered away from the couple, making my way back to the car. I couldn’t help but laugh again at the comment the old guy said. It was no surprise to me that I was the opposite of Caroline. I was a gutter rat and a damn proud one too. Gutter rats know how to get shit done and don’t take shit from people…

Caroline’s POV

“He came to my house and my neighbors almost called the cops on him, Mac!” I exclaimed. “My poor neighbor hasn’t stopped checking on me since I got home.” I watched as Mac nearly chocked on her Chinese takeout. I had come home from grocery shopping and the next thing I know my neighbor is telling about the rude guy that was knocking on my door. I was concerned at first, but once he started explaining what he looked like I knew exactly who it was. From the jet black hair, unbuttoned shirt, and leather pants, I knew that it was none other than Nikki Sixx. I tried to explain to Walter and his wife, Maggie, that Nikki was just a friend and that they had no need to worry. Well, that didn’t exactly go as well as I would have hoped. Walter began to explain to me the dangers of being friends with a guy like Nikki. I would not only get into a lot of trouble but I could also be called not-so-nice names (his words, not mine). I assured him that I would be okay. I didn’t want to tell him that it was rude of him to interject himself into my business because that’s not the type of person I am. I respected him for looking out for me but I didn’t need another man like my father in my life. Michael Daniels was enough to handle.

“So what exactly happened between you and Nikki Sixx?” Mac asked, changing the subject. I knew she was wanting to know and I was going to have to tell her. I actually felt a bit embarrassed, to be honest. I used to criticize her for sleeping around with guys she barely knew, and now here I was doing the same thing. “Everything.” I muttered. “I let him-”I stopped, trying to find the right words. “I let him perform oral sex on me.” My eyes remained on my Lo Mein noodles as I waited for Mac’s response. After a couple of seconds of silence, I quickly peered up to see her smiling at me with her mouth wide open. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” I began to whine.

She instantly started to laugh, “You let Nikki Sixx go down on you?” My cheeks started to heat up as she laughed. “I can’t believe Caroline Vanessa Daniels got tongue fucked by Nikki Sixx!”

“Don’t say it like that, Mackenzie.” I groaned. I reached for the blanket that was resting on my couch and threw it over my head. Even though she said it in such a crass way, that’s exactly what happened. When my parents had the birds and bees talk with me, they never mentioned the use of tongue, not even when kissing. Like I had mentioned earlier, I found out about oral sex from Mac. Come to think of it, I found out a lot of stuff from Mac. All my parents told me about was when two people love each other, they get married, and THEN make love. I don’t even think I made love with Nikki. It was raw and wild, nothing like what my parents explained to me. I learned the Leave it to Beaver version from my parents and received the X-rated version from Nikki.

“You’re such a dork, Caroline.” Mac pulled the blanket from my head. “Okay, so, you had oral sex with Nikki. So, what?” She stated. “Did you have regular sex with him?” I stayed silent, giving her the answer. Another smile formed on her face, “I know this is gonna sound weird-” She began. “But I’m so proud of you for getting properly fucked.”

“Ugh!” I exclaimed. I quickly jumped up from the floor and started making my way to the kitchen. I hastily placed my bowl in the sink, Mac following close behind. “Caroline, it’s completely normal to have sex!” She exclaimed. “I had sex with Tommy the first night I met him. You’re 21 years old, that’s what we do.”

I turned to face her, “That’s not what I do. I don’t have sex with guys I barely know. Look how long it took Chris to get into my pants.”

“You don’t have sex with guys you barely know, but you do have sex with guys that you have feelings for, Caroline.” She spoke. “You and I both know that you have major feelings for Nikki, but you’re too scared to admit it.” I looked at her as if she had three heads. “Don’t look at me like that, you know I’m telling the truth. You want him, you need this man in your life.” Was she right? Every time I saw Nikki, my heart starts to flutter and I can’t help but smile. The heart fluttering could be some underlying medical condition, though. “I know what you’re doing, Caroline.” I looked at her. “You’re over analyzing everything and you’re gonna psych yourself out.”   I don’t know what came over me, but I just burst out crying. I dropped to the ground and just cried. I had no idea why I was crying, but huge tears were falling from my eyes. “Caroline!” Mac threw herself next to me, engulfing me in her arms. “You’re over analyzing.” She pressed her lips into my hair, gently rocking me, causing me to slowly calm down. “Just breath. It’s going to be okay.” I wiped the snot and tears that had formed on my sweatshirt. “I over analyzed.” I whimpered. “I couldn’t help it.”

Mac let out a chuckle, “You’ve been over analyzing things since I met you.” She pulled back a little. “Do you feel better, though? I mean, is your brain more clear to think?” I nodded my head, straightening up against the wooden cabinet. I did feel slightly better after my cry-plosion. “Now-”Mac started. “You need to go find Nikki and tell him that you’re sorry for skipping out on him this morning. And-”She cut me off before I could speak. “Tell him how you really feel.” I looked at her, slowly nodding my head in agreement. I knew she was right but I was being way too stubborn. I may have said that I was done over analyzing everything but it was a lie. I was thinking about anything and everything that had to do with Nikki. What would people think of him? What would people think of me? How would my parents react to me being with someone like Nikki? How would his fans, especially the female ones, react to me being with him? Was I edgy enough to be with a guy like him? The answer to the edgy question was a big-fat NO! I still watched Saturday Morning Cartoons for goodness sake! I teach seven and eight year olds; I have to be down with the cartoons trends.

“You’re doing it again!” Mac shouted, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin. “Don’t fucking over analyze!” She was right. I needed to calm down and face the music. The next time I see Nikki, I’m gonna tell him how I feel. I’m gonna tell him that I have feelings for him and I want to be with him. Goodness, gracious, that sounds so dorky!

@triplehaitches @sighsophiia @fandomshit6000 @primal-screamer @lauravic @divaanya @jonesie32 @ithinkimhardcore @theabductionofpersephone @queen-introvert

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make-it-mavis · 5 years

Text

Too Young to Notice, Too Dumb to Care (part 1)

WiR fic (main timeline, ~1984) 5643 words Characters: Turbo, Make-it Mavis, Pyro and Nitro (the Turbo Twins) Content warnings: N/A Premise: It’s 1984, and Mavis and Turbo are young, stupid, and inexperienced -- especially Mavis, who is still working hard to overcome her touch aversion. But there’s a sort of touch she has not attempted, one she barely even understands. When she asks Turbo about it, however, she finds that he’s not exactly an expert on it either. So, with all of two brain cells at their disposal, they tackle the question... What the hell is kissing??

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To any ignorant outsider, it would have seemed like Make-it Mavis and Turbo were friends. All the signs were there -- the way they joked and played, the way they spent more time together than apart, and the way their biting insults seemed to bite just a tad gentler when directed at each other. Many ignorant outsiders did, in fact, make note of their bond. The two sprites were hard enough to ignore on their own, but put together? Their supposed friendship was explosively loud. Over time, it rang out through the very boundaries of the arcade, until there was not a sprite alive who was not at least aware of the gossip they inspired.

Mavis herself was fully aware, too, of course. The arcade’s assumptions were frustrating to her, what with ‘friend’ carrying so many connotations. Connotations she did not sign up for. No, she and Turbo were not friends, and of this fact, she was quite certain. Turbo was a source of fun, one she had been fixated on for some time, but that was all he was. She liked him more than she liked anyone else. She made the decision to trust him with things no other sprite could be cut out for, even touching her, over time. But if things went south, if he became a drag, she would walk away guilt-free.

Friends did not have that kind of freedom.

Even still, even after over a year of knowing him closely and hanging out almost every night, Mavis was excited to spend the evening with Turbo. It had been another boring day of waiting out gameplay, and at last, it was time to go goof off and raise hell with the only other sprite in the arcade who seemed to know how to do it. She trotted casually down the gravely road flanked by trees, absolutely soaked in the relentless Turbo Time sunshine. Every few steps, she took a carefree leap and sailed smoothly through the air on her feathered feet. The boys’ sort of trailer park would be just down the way, but before she quite made it there, she spied a figure up ahead, clad in blue, with an arm around another humanoid sprite.

Had to have been one of the twins, and… somebody.

Knowing Turbo’s brother would not be pleased to see her, and delighting in that fact, Mavis let out a sharp whistle. The two stopped and turned back to look at her as she flew in for a closer look. The guest looked like he must have been from Front Line, with the camo and dog tags and muscles. His cropped black hair was oily, his skin was dirty, and he smelled awful.

The twin just looked like a twin. Mavis was not sure why she expected to recognize him if she got closer.

“Hi cat,” she said anyway, “what’s this you’re draggin’ in?”

“Hey,” the twin said sharply. “That’s my guest you’re talkin’ about. Watch it.”

“Hi Mavis,” the guest said plainly, as if he had been expecting her to be trouble, and accepted it.

“Hiya,” she nodded. Of course the guy knew who she was. She was only the most notorious trickster in the arcade. This particular guest, however… not important enough for Mavis to remember, anyway.

“My name’s McKenzie,” he said, sending that name through Mavis’ ear and out the other. “If you care to know.”

“I don’t, really,” she shrugged. “But now that I’m here, I’m hopin’ Blueballs here brought you in to hose you down like a dog, ‘cause you sure smell like one.”

The twin actually smirked at that, and nudged his hip against McKenzie’s. “Y’really could use a shower.”

“Oh, really, now?” His guest replied, giving the twin a look that Mavis did not quite understand, but still found repulsive.

“O-kay,” she said loudly, “well, it’s been fun. Always quality conversation with you, Pluto.”

“Pyro,” the twin corrected her.

“Yeah, yeah,” she whined dismissively, twirling off into the air, electing to fly directly to the trailer park. It was a short flight, barely a few seconds at her speed, before she came upon the rough-looking, rectangular mobile homes, arranged in a modestly spaced triangle. Mavis knew all three racers wished they could separate their living spaces even farther, but ironically enough, there was nowhere else in the game to move their movable homes to. Not off-screen anyway, and they could not very well air out their wet laundry right where the gamers could see.

She landed and approached Turbo’s trailer -- perhaps the dirtiest of the three, with discarded bottles and cigarette butts littering the sparse grass. She could even smell a fresh cigarette, but following her nose over her shoulder, she found that it was the other twin leaning out of his window and calmly smoking. By process of elimination, that one was Nitro.

Mavis tipped up her chin at him, and he just exhaled a smoky plume in reply, serving her a look of casual distaste. It was on the friendlier end of their spectrum of interaction.

Wasting no more time, she turned back around and knocked hard on Turbo’s door in a musical rhythm.

“Who is it?” Turbo’s gruff voice called.

“It’s Litwak,” Mavis replied impatiently. “Better clear outta here before I unplug your game.”

“As if you could live without me, old man,” she heard him say, among footsteps and keys jangling. Promptly, the door opened, and there was the demon boy himself, clad in the usual white-and-red jumpsuit zipped down and tied at his hips. His overgrown mullet was as fluffy as ever, but Mavis smiled a bit at the thought of the flat dome of helmet hair she knew it had been right after quitting time. He must have spent the whole time since then fixing it.

“What’s that look?” he asked casually as he turned to close the door and lock it.

“Hm?”

“You’re givin’ me a look.”

“Am not,” she said.

“I’m gettin’ real good at readin’ your nasty lil’ mind, Make-it,” he said as he stepped off the tiny stairs to his door and turned to head towards the gravel path back to Game Central. “And y’know what your face is sayin’ to me, right now? It’s sayin’-- Oh, gag me with a spoon.”

“Wow. Not even close.”

“No,” he rolled his eyes. “Pyro’s brought a friend home.”

Sure enough, Pyro and McWhatever had arrived on the scene, and the twin was unlocking his door with a self-satisfied smile. Mavis got the distinct impression that he knew Turbo was hating what he saw, and relishing it.

“Yeah, so?” she asked Turbo, a bit perplexed.

“So, let’s get outta here before they get a chance to get into it,” he said, taking off with a swift pace. Mavis hovered along next to him.

“Get into what?”

As the two of them passed his trailer, Pyro called out with devilish glee, “Seeya in the mornin’, little brother!”

Without looking, Turbo called back coldly, “Yeah-huh. Have fun swappin’ your spit for the hundredth time this week.”

“‘Least I’m gettin’ any!”

“‘Least I ain't a sleazebag!”

The exchange seemed to be over as she and Turbo put more distance between themselves and the trailer park, but Mavis was confused to the point of irritation. No one seemed to be saying what they meant, at least not to her ears. Like it was all some kind of code that she had not been taught. Some weird brother-code.

“What’s swappin’ spit?” she demanded, craning over Turbo’s head like a vulture as he walked.

“Nothing,” he grumbled dismissively, fishing a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and patting for a lighter.

“What’s Pyro getting?!” she asked more sharply.

“Nothing-- who cares, okay? I don’t wanna think about what my brother’s gettin’. Let’s just forget it and cut right to the hell-raising, aye?”

Mavis did not like giving up, but she did not want Turbo to be in a bad mood for what was supposed to be a fun night. He could get so annoying when he was grumpy. But she would find out the truth later, that much she decided right then and there.

Turbo lit up a cigarette, and the two left the subject behind entirely.

The rest of the evening carried on in the usual sort of erratic way, with the pair doing whatever happened to come into their heads with no regard for others. Some time was spent in Frogger, setting fire to items pulled from Mavis’ hoard, and watching the flames float down the river like funeral pyres. Another little while was spent in Ghosts ‘n Goblins causing general unrest, finding particular joy in knocking on gravestones and hiding while the confused rotting dead rose to find no one there. When a group of angry ghosts chased them out, Mavis and Turbo found themselves hungry, and swung by Burger Time to pick up some take out to bring into Rampage.

Rampage was a favorite of Mavis’, even just to relax in. It was neither dark nor bright, neither day or night, with the sky a vibrant but deep blue just dark enough to paint the tall figures of distant buildings in shadow. It was also both loud and quiet, with tanks below, helicopters above, and three beastly titans, well, rampaging freely through the fully destructible city, but a big enough map that there was always somewhere far enough to sit out of the proper cacophony.

It was in one of those far reaches that Mavis and Turbo found themselves around 3 AM, perched at the very top of a building with their feet hanging off the edge. They ate their food and chatted, casually watching a huge ape and werewolf roughhouse some ways away, deeper into the city.

“See, why can’t my game be this cool?” Mavis complained through a mouthful of burger. “It’s the same basic idea. Big gorilla wrecks buildings ‘n crap.”

Turbo snorted. “Your gorilla just ain’t big enough.”

“And we only got one building,” she grumbled. “And, hey, that werewolf out there? His name is Ralph.”

“What? No way,” Turbo disputed with a smile, “What kinda name is that for a big, badass werewolf?”

Mavis shrugged, smiling back, “Ask the Devs. I guess he wasn’t always a werewolf. That’s how werewolves work, right? He was just some guy named Ralph. Lucky him, now he’s interesting. My game would be way more interesting if our Ralph got turned into a werewolf. But fat chance of that ever happening.”

“Y’know what,” he said matter-of-factly as he popped a fry in his mouth, “the Ralphs should switch places for a day.”

Mavis half-guffawed.

Turbo continued, “Yeah, I mean, big Ralph would be real good at little Ralph’s job. He’d probably decimate Niceland with a single kick.”

“Take more than a few whacks from a hammer to fix that,” Mavis commented.

“We’d call it ‘hard mode.’ It’d be a hit.”

Mavis looked around, considering her surroundings. “Y’know, the gamers do the wrecking in this one, right? So Ralph would be the Good Guy here. I wonder how he’d feel about that. Maybe he wouldn’t be such a stick in the mud anymore.”

“Daresay that Fix-it would have less time to bug you with an entire city to fix,” Turbo pointed out. “Though he’d have to be the Bad Guy, ‘n man, there ain’t a bad bone in that choir boy’s body.”

“Hell, give him a shot,” Mavis shrugged dramatically. “Not like he’s all that good at bein’ a Good Guy either.”

Turbo chuckled a bit, but otherwise fell silent, and she did as well. Then the silence became awkward. Mavis chastised herself quietly for letting any bit of her emotional baggage with her cousin slip into her tone. Turbo knew how she felt. He even knew why she felt that way, what had happened, what Fix-it had done. And, blessedly, he was on her side for all of it. But, still, it was an emotional subject to just throw into casual conversation, and Mavis knew it. She was still getting used to having another sprite in the know on her… family issues.

Topic change. Topic change. Topic change.

Bingo.

“Ready to tell me why Pyro havin’ friends is so horrifying?” she asked suddenly.

Turbo sighed gruffly, smacking his tongue. “They’re not his friends, okay, that’s just-- y’know-- and it ain’t horrifyin’, it’s just gross. Nasty. I don’t need to know every time my brother makes out with someone. I don’t need that image.”

“Uh huh,” she tapped her heel back against the brick wall below, “and ‘makes out’ means…?”

Turbo paused before giving her a very peculiar look, as if she were the one not making sense. “Are you asking me what ‘making out’ is?”

“Yes,” she snapped a bit. “I’m asking you what ‘making out’ is. Will ya just tell me?”

“Well, it’s--” he shrugged sharply, shaking his head. “I mean-- it’s kissing and junk. How could you not know that?”

Mavis paused. “...Kissing?”

“Don’t tell me y’don’t know what that is.”

“I know what kissing is, ya dick. I just mean… kissing? Really? Like-- well, on the mouth, right?”

“Obviously. Where else?” Turbo regretted asking, by the look on his face. He grimaced at whatever thought just came up.

“Oh,” Mavis lifted her finger, “oh. Oh, okay. Yeah. They’re not his friends. They’re his boyfriends.”

Turbo groaned a bit. “Not exactly.”

“But… kissing’s all romantic-whatever, right? Only sprites who are in love kiss on the mouth.”

At that, Turbo outright cackled. It startled Mavis so bad, she quite nearly fell off the ledge. Turbo set his food down behind him and stood, waving her off as he walked to the middle of the roof and laughed it out. Mavis felt her face heating up, just knowing she had said something stupid and now had to somehow recover from it. She stood as well, crossing over to the chortling demon boy.

“If you’re gonna laugh in my face, at least say why before you saunter off,” she told him, annoyed.

“Look, dollface, if you hit me with another joke like that, I was gonna go tumbling right down to my death, arright?” he told her, straightening up and grinning. “I mean-- I mean, you don’t really believe that, do you?”

She hesitated. “No.”

“Oh, oh my Devs.”

“I said ‘no!’”

“Okay, okay,” Turbo said, placing steady hands on her shoulders, but still sporting that delighted smile. He touched his chest, “I ain’t being fair, okay? I’ll admit that. ‘Cause I’m gonna take a wild leap ‘n say all the education you’ve had on the subject has been what your cousin’s told ya.”

“Well--” she frowned. “Ugh. Yeah. But why would he lie to me about-- about kissing rules, or--?”

“Dunno if ‘lie’ is the right word. It’s probably what he personally believes, babe,” he nodded. “The guy’s about as traditional as they come. He probably told ya that because he wants you to be just as traditional as he is. And to keep ya from kissin’ anybody. To protect you from sprites like-- Well, like my brother.”

Mavis backed off from him, rolling her eyes. “I don’t need protection--” she paused. “Wait, like your brother? What’s he doin’, exactly?”

“Mmm,” Turbo put his hands on his hips. “How can I put this? All the boys-- and sometimes girls-- that Pyro brings home? Not boyfriends, not girlfriends. Just conquests. Pyro goes for numbers. And-- well, he doesn’t care about any of ‘em. Not even to the point of bein’ decent. He can get pretty manipulative about it, s’far as I’ve heard. And no matter what, after he’s had his fill a’ makin’ out, he gives ‘em the boot. Seen a fair share of cryin’ sprites leavin’ the game before.”

“Wow…”

Mavis considered all that. Suddenly, Turbo’s disgust made more sense. That really was a reprehensible way to treat other sprites, and that was saying a lot, coming from her. A strange thought crept into her head, one that questioned whether the way she used sprites for fun while refusing friendship was any similar to what Pyro did. Whether it was any similar to what she was doing to Turbo. Was she manipulating him without even realizing?

No. No, it was different. It had to be. Mavis only ever protected herself. Pyro was taking whatever he wanted. She would never do what he did.

A humorless half-smirk appeared on Mavis’ face. “So Fix-it’s afraid I’ll fall victim to some kinda romantic manipulation, then? Doesn’t he know I’ve got a cold, spiky heart?”

“He must,” Turbo shrugged, “if he wanted you to think that makin’ out is just a lovers’ thing. If you believe that, you’ll never so much as kiss anybody, and he’s never gotta picture his sweet baby cousin doin’ grown-up touching.”

Mavis twitched. She could feel her hard-wired defiant nature bristling up. “That’s it, isn’t it? He thinks I'm his responsibility. Like I can't make good choices for-- for my touch life.”

Turbo scoffed. “‘Touch life?’ Y'really wanna go with that?"

"What else should I call it?"

"I'unno Mav, don'tcha think that's a bit generous for the amount a touchin’ you do? I mean, I'm flattered that bein' able to touch me is worth a whole life to ya--"

“Hey,” Mavis growled, pointing, “hey, are you kiddin’ me right now?”

“Okay, okay,” Turbo sighed and put his hands up, “don’t make a thing of it.”

Mavis fumed, stomping over to him as she rolled up her sleeves. There was the slightest twinge of confusion and alarm in Turbo’s eyes, almost as if he expected her to take a swing at him, but she only seized his arm. With a harsh yank, she pulled him closer, and she rubbed the bare skin of her forearm against his. She could feel her code prickling a bit under her skin, but she had worked so hard to become accustomed to the feeling, it barely mattered anymore.

“See that?" she said firmly, “You've seen what'd happen if I tried this six months ago. This here's a big deal. Don't make fun of it, dickweed."

“Yeah, I know-- I take your point,” Turbo said through a rueful smile, pulling his arm away. “Sheesh, I was just buggin’ you.”

“You’re good at that.”

“I’m good at everything,” he rolled his eyes, “and you’re pretty good at being touched now, okay? And I’m sure that if you keep workin’ on it, one day you’ll even be able to handle kissing somebody, or makin’ out, or whatever sorta things would horrify your cousin. I’m sure that’ll be good motivation for you.”

“Y’don’t think I could handle it right now?” Mavis asked, brow cocked.

Turbo gave a short laugh. “Uh, yeah. It’s a bit different from rubbin’ arms.”

Mavis’ eyes narrowed. A challenge was standing directly in front of her, and that defiant instinct of hers grabbed onto it with both hands. He would be proven wrong. He would be proven so wrong.

“Show me.”

Still smiling, Turbo blinked and paused. “What?”

“Kiss me,” she said boldly, stepping closer. “I dare you.”

While Turbo’s smile did not disappear, it shifted into a more nervous shade. His eyes darted around just once, looking for an audience that was not there. “Right now?” he asked, his voice high.

“Right now,” Mavis agreed, straightening up and grinning. “Kiss me right here. Prove to me that I can’t handle it.”

“Well…” he breathed, pausing for a while to stare at her. “Alright, then, weirdo. I’ll give ya one freebie. Hope y’know how lucky you are.”

“Shut up and make with the kiss.”

A bit of an indignant scoff rolled from Turbo’s throat and out of his nose, but he obliged her request. That is, he began to oblige her request. Slowly, he began to bring his face closer, pausing and letting his eyes fall to her mouth, as if making sure he was still on course. Mavis merely watched, intrigued and perplexed by his process. Once he was close enough for her to practically taste the salt on his lips, he cleared his throat.

“What?” Mavis asked plainly.

Meeting her stare point-blank, he mumbled, “You’re supposed to close your eyes.”

“Oh,” Mavis promptly closed her eyes. It seemed strange to her, but it was all strange to her. She had figured Turbo would have been done already, but it was almost like he had stage fright, what with how slow he took it and how he did not want her to watch. But it was just a kiss, something that took literally no skill. No one could be bad at kissing.

Or so she believed, right up until something warm and slimy dragged across her mouth.

“What th--”

Tearing her head away from the tentacle onslaught that just assaulted her lips, she spat and sputtered, shoving Turbo back and stumbling in a direction steered only by her disgust. She wiped aggressively at her mouth, smearing off a horrifying amount of saliva. “What-- pfft-- the hell-- pbbt-- was that?!”

“A kiss, dumbass! Or it would’ve been if y’didn’t bail half a second in! But I told ya! Didn’t I tell ya?! You’re not up to it!”

He was offended. He was very deeply offended.

“That,” she said, finally turning to face him again, “was not a kiss! You licked my mouth! Who have you been makin’ out with, the Duck Hunt dog?!”

Indignantly, he said, “I ain’t been makin’ out with anybody.”

Despite his obvious lack of experience, Mavis still found that surprising, if only because she had not thought to question it before. “Why not? You’re one of them touchy-types.”

“Yeah, don’t call me that,” he said flatly. “Just ‘cause I can stand bein’ touched doesn’t mean I want everyone to touch me. This here--” he gestured a circle around his face, “--this ain’t free parking. I ain’t my sleaze-bag of a brother.”

“So,” Mavis lowered her volume just a bit, “y’don’t wanna be kissed, then? Y’could’a just said no when I asked.”

The demon boy blew through his lips and turned his gaze out to the city, running a rough hand through his messy hair. “No, it’s whatever. It’s kinda different with you.”

At that, Mavis’ heart hit an unsteady beat, and she felt a bit of warmth rush to her face, but not in the most pleasant way. She was almost afraid that she had steered her dynamic with Turbo in the wrong direction, and that she would have to bail for good at any second.

“Wh-What’s that mean?” she stammered a bit.

He seemed to pick up on her vibe. “Well, I know you, is what I mean. You ain’t some rando. Doesn’t hurt that you’re a cute girl.”

His physical attraction to her was never really a secret, and for that reason, it did not bother her for him to say that. Mavis may not have entirely understood what physical attraction entailed as far as one’s feelings towards the object of attraction went, but so far, it had not gotten in the way of them having fun together. So, she figured there was no sense worrying about it.

“That’s fair,” she nodded.

“And, y’know, whatever. It’s just for getting over your no-touchiness. It’s not even real.”

Mavis pondered that, tapping her hip lightly. “Yeah,” she agreed, “exactly. We don’t even gotta think of it like our first times… y’know, respectively. It’s just a practice run.”

“Well, whatever y’call it, y’better be grateful,” Turbo looked at his nails, “‘cause I got droves of adorin’ fans who’d kill to have a practice round with me.”

Mavis scoffed wetly. “After what you just did to me? No, they really wouldn’t.”

“Look,” he rolled his eyes, throwing a hand up,“there’s tongue in kissing! That’s a real thing!”

“Wh-- No, there’s not! What the hell do you think kissing is?!”

Turbo paused, suddenly squinting at her. Suspiciously, he said, “What do you think kissing is?”

Mavis swallowed, but quickly strode over. “I can’t believe I have to show you this,” she said, before leaning in… and craning her head around to plant a quick, sheepish kiss on his cheek, immediately chastising herself for avoiding his mouth. Once she pulled back, she could not quite pinpoint the emotion on Turbo’s face. He was just stunned.

“Did… I just blow your mind, or…?” she mumbled.

“That-- That wasn’t--” he pointed to his mouth, “we’re talkin’ about this kinda kiss.”

“‘Kay, well, excuse me for bein’ cautious a’ you trying to swallow my entire head again,” she said begrudgingly, “but, fine.”

Quick as a mouse, she took the very same kiss and planted it right on his lips before pulling away. It did not feel all that different to her, she noted thankfully. His lips were just a bit softer than his cheek, but that felt like an inconsequential thing to notice.

All the same, she noticed it.

“There,” she said. “See? I told you I could do it.”

Turbo closed his eyes and took a moment to scratch the back of his neck. “...Yeah, see,” he groaned a bit, “that’s not… at all… what I’ve been talkin’ about. Ain’t you ever seen anyone kiss on the lips?”

“I don’t exactly go lookin’ for couples-- or whatever-- to watch ‘em kiss, Turbo.” Mavis could feel herself about to regret her words, “I see cheek kissin’ all the time, and how much different can it be on the mouth?”

Turbo just stared at her, this disbelieving humor sitting behind his eyes. “You’re precious, y’know that? You’re just a peach.”

“Am not,” she huffed. “Don’t say that. It’s weird.”

“You’re a grown-ass woman and still somehow think that a kiss on the lips lasts about point-five seconds. That’s adorable. So unlike a trash-eatin’ gremlin to be so innocent.”

“Oh, I’ll show you innocent,” Mavis growled, stepping right into his space again, practically nose-to-nose. “I’m gonna get this right, and it’s gonna rock your world, hotshot, no matter how long it takes.”

Turbo only had time to load a chuckle in his mouth before Mavis’ lips snuffed it out. This time, she would do better. Maybe not quite right, but better. If time was the issue, she would keep her lips against his just as long as it took for him to stop laughing at her. It was easy enough -- she merely replicated her small peck from before, but held it there, motionless, waiting.

It did not take long for Turbo to make a small, uncertain grunt in his throat.

“Don’t lick me,” she told him, muffled against his lips.

“I’m not gonna lick you,” he said right back.

“Am I doin’ this right, yet?”

“Does it feel right to you?”

“How’s it supposed to feel?”

He shrugged. “Awesome?”

Mavis took the time to consider that before answering. She counted the things she felt physically. From the neck down, she felt completely normal, but her face… was full of Turbo. He was just right there, literally face-to-face, right against her mouth. She could smell the burger grease left over, and even with her lips closed, she could sort of taste it, which, while it was not a bad taste, felt weird to get second-hand… or second-mouth. The breath from his nose was leaving a sort of wetness against her cheek. Her pursed lips were kind of falling asleep. It was weird. All of it was weird.

But did she feel awesome emotionally? ...No. No, she just felt frustrated.

At last, she pulled away, avoiding his gaze to glare at his collar. “Not awesome,” she grumbled.

“Ee-yeah, didn’t think so,” Turbo muttered.

“I don’t get it,” she said, meeting his eyes again. “How’s kissing supposed to be so great that sprites wanna do it all the time, just for fun?”

“Well,” he half-laughed, “they don’t do it like that, that’s for sure. Supposedly, it is pretty damn awesome if you do it right.”

“But--”

Mavis was quickly cut off as the deafening thudding of helicopter blades drew near. Turbo stepped away, attempting to hold his hair out of his suddenly outraged face, but Mavis just let hers whip around wildly. From the direction of the city proper, one of the game’s helicopters had hovered over. Its pilot did not seem too alarmed by them, given its lazy speed, but it was always in the best interest of game characters to keep an eye on her and Turbo. Mavis supposed they were just checking in to make sure no bombs were being made or anything -- something Mavis suddenly wished they had been doing instead of fruitlessly trying to kiss. Bombs would have been way more fun.

After Turbo put an arm out by his side, giving the pilot a silent gesture of, “What,” they seemed to decide all was well, and the aircraft carried on its way, flying back to the city to monitor the beasts.

“Can’t a gal just sit on a roof eatin’ burgers anymore?” Mavis asked no one in particular.

Turbo was growling, too busy trying to put his hair back in the very specific mess he liked to answer her. “Stupid-- freakin’-- helicopters-- freakin’ bird-brain piece a’ scrap metal--”

Mavis’ heart jumped as another roaring sound rudely interrupted them, only this time, it was an actual roar. It came right from the center of the city, right where the rampaging monsters had been playing around. Gazing out, Mavis could see that both creatures were looking right at her, even waving. She grinned a bit. Just like with any other sprite, Mavis did not really consider the monsters from Rampage her friends, per se, but they sure were a lot of fun to play around with. The big, lumbering oafs loved to chase her around and try to knock her out of the air -- something they tried to do gently, but still ended up sending Mavis back to Fix-it with her share of broken bones on more than one occasion. But that was just how Mavis liked her fun.

She withdrew her brush, painted feathers on her heels, and rose a bit into the air to wave back at them. With another flick of her brush, she painted a megaphone and called out to them, “HI, YA BIG UGLY BEASTIES! WHAT’S UP?!”

From below, Turbo groaned loudly, and she looked down to see him covering his ears and glaring sharply. “Really?” he hissed.

George, the gorilla, hooted and bellowed again. He and big Ralph were making beckoning arm motions, even picking up chunks of debris and swinging them around in a playful display. Mavis’ sense of fun perked up like a pair of ears.

“DON’T MAKE ME COME OVER THERE,” she shouted with a grin.

Big Ralph let out a howl that ripped through the atmosphere like it was nothing at all. The boys were so nonsensically loud, and she loved it.

“OH, WHAT,” she called, “YA THINK Y’CAN CATCH ME THIS TIME?!”

At that, Turbo cleared his throat in protest. Looking down, she found him folding his arms and tapping his foot, clearly displeased with her. The megaphone in her hand despawned, and she lowered back to the roof to face Turbo.

“Hi,” she said, just prompting him to be out with it.

“You’re gonna just ditch me for those guys?” he hissed.

Mavis sighed. Whether she was actually too flippant or Turbo was too sensitive, she was not sure, but it was not the first time he got snippy over her hanging out with other sprites. It was not as if she was actually abandoning him -- she was just naturally wired to go where the fun was. He would have to understand that, she thought, if he ever wanted to really understand her.

But, then again, she still could not have been sure just what level of understanding she wanted between her and her… frequent playmate.

“I’m not ditching you,” she groaned. “Look, I’ll be right back, okay? Stay here ‘n finish your food. I’ll just goof off with these guys for a couple games of tag, or something.”

Turbo scoffed. “Thanks. It’s real cozy here on the backburner.”

“Don’t be such a killjoy, okay,” she snapped. “I gotta go shake off how weird it was tryin’ to lock lips with you.”

He was quiet for just a moment, holding her in a narrow-eyed glare.

“Fine. Whatever,” he threw an arm up a bit. “Go pretend like you didn’t love it. I’ll just sit back here ‘n quietly eat all your fries.”

As she rose back into the air, she pointed at him and warned, “I’ll cut you open ‘n eat ‘em outta your guts if ya so much as think about it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved her off, dismissing her completely as he walked back to the ledge of the building where their food sat. She waited only a few seconds before whistling through the air, quickly passing over broken buildings that reached up like outstretched arms. There was an itch in the back of her neck, a sort of fix for fun that needed to be sated after all that awkwardness. What she said was true -- she did have to break out of the frustrated funk that all the failed kissing had put her in.

Strangely, though, she sort of wished that she had been less of a jerk about it.

Because despite the awkwardness, she really did want to figure out how to get it just right. If other sprites could kiss and find a way to enjoy it, then she could, too. And Turbo? Maybe he deserved a bit more credit for helping her. Devs knew there was no one else in the arcade she could try it with. No one else she would have wanted to.

But that still did not mean they were friends. So long as she did not say so.

#fanfiction #wreck it ralph #turbo #make it mavis #the shitgoblins #hi everyone ive been #real sick #but heres the start of something real dumb #pure teenage-ish shitgoblin dumbassery #also im aware that the title is from a really sad song and this is a silly fic #but thats how the mebbis do

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16ruedelaverrerie · 6 years

Photo

[Today, Courtesy of This Diagram Generated by @sebdoesstuff, a Performative Reading of the Natal Chart of Detective Gavin Reed, Born October 7, 2002, in What We Take to Be Detroit, Michigan, at an Unknown Time of Day. All Standard Disclaimers from This Post Apply, Including the One about This Being a Generalization, Because Even with the Natal Chart We’re Not Going to Get into Aspects or Full Houses vs Empty Houses or Anything Like That, I’m Not an Astrologer Nor Was I Meant to Be, Also I Need to Go Eat Dinner Now]

1. Rising Sign: presentation Sagittarius (blunt, outgoing, independent)

[The rising sign is dependent on the time of birth; it’s Sagittarius here because 12PM is the default time this website uses. My original choice for Gavin’s rising sign was Aries, because an Aries is just a Leo with an inferiority complex THAT’S RIGHT FIGHT ME ARIES but I rather like Sagittarius, actually! Did you know that every man I have ever been into but also simultaneously hated myself for being into had a Sagittarius sun sign? It’s a personal note you didn’t ask for but also it’s a broadly applicable truth.]

“I’ll make my own scrambled eggs,” says Gavin. “You cook like someone who made a deal with the devil to trade in their taste buds for pointlessly overdeveloped fine motor skills, which is exactly what you are. Your food tastes like a fucking instruction manual.”

“Is that any way to talk to your lawfully wedded husband?” asks RK900.

“THE LAW IS NOT JUSTICE,” proclaims Gavin.

Capitulating to the oppressive institution of marriage had provided them with certain tax benefits, muses RK900, but it had not done a thing to socialize Gavin. It's just as well, he thinks.

2. Sun: personality 14 degrees Libra (diplomatic, superficial, indulgent)

[Again, this post is probably more than enough contemplation of Gavin Reed, Actual Libra. This sun sign continues to be completely absurd and I am on board for this bogus journey.]

“No wait, not-- not from the back,” pants Gavin, struggling to turn himself over under RK900′s insistent hands. “I want-- I want to see your face.”

“Okay,” breathes RK900, startled by the tenderness of the request.

“I mean, otherwise there’s no point,” continues Gavin. “What? You think I’m with you for your personality?”

“...Thanks, you ruined it,” says RK900.

3. Moon: emotion 01 degree Scorpio (passionate, secretive, committed)

“You... I...” falters Gavin, fidgeting viciously with the zipper of his jacket. “...What I mean is-- that is to say, I... here’s the thing, you’re... I’m in-- I might be in-- ...I-- you--”

“Would you find this ordeal easier if we were both undressed and I was banging you like a screen door in a hurricane?” asks RK900, because it isn’t like he doesn’t know what Gavin is trying to say, anyway.

“Yes please right now,” says Gavin.

4. Mercury: intellect 28 degrees Virgo (analytical, detail-oriented, perfectionist)

“Reed, this is ridiculous,” barks Fowler. “Your report was due two weeks ago, I can’t have you sit on your ass forever. Just get it done.”

“But have you seen the body text typeface for the new electronic filing system?” protests Gavin. “The x-height on it is hideously minuscule! What it does to the counters-- it’s completely illegible, Captain! I am ASPHYXIATED by its lack of sufficient aperture! I can’t work in typographical squalor, this aesthetic is a disgrace to the force! I QUIT!”

“Your gun and badge,” says Fowler.

5. Venus: relationship 15 degrees Scorpio (loyal, possessive, adventurous)

“Here’s a handbook of sexual perversions that I’ve compiled for you,” says Gavin. He drops a gargantuan dossier in front of RK900, where it lands with a thunk hard enough to make the table shake.

“I... really don’t think this is necessary,” says RK900.

“Listen, I would literally keel over and die of grief if for some reason you suddenly decided to go slam your cock inside someone else instead of me,” says Gavin. “Tell me what freaky shit you’re into, and I’ll do it. You tell me what it takes to keep you around.”

“Isn’t there a nicer way of saying all this?” asks RK900.

6. Mars: action 24 degrees Virgo (occupied, particular, critical)

“This folder is for solved cases that haven’t been filed yet,” says Gavin, cursor hovering. “This folder is for solved cases that are partially filed. This folder is for solved cases involving drug offenses. This folder is for all cases east of Woodward but west of Broadway. This folder is for bad crimes. This folder is for cases that when I looked at them, I was like, huh! This folder is--”

“Please, your organizational scheme doesn’t make any sense,” says RK900. “I’ve had to patch up several critical errors during your attempt to explain it just now.”

“It works! I have a system!” insists Gavin. “You know how Fowler feels about me, would I still be here if I didn’t have a system that worked and got cases cleared?”

“Your continued employment at this station is a source of persistent mystery to me,” says RK900.

7. Jupiter: development 13 degrees Leo (dramatic, proud, demonstrative)

“You requested me?” demands Gavin as soon as the door to Fowler’s office swings closed, too befuddled to let his irritation silence him. “You asked to be partnered with me? What the fuck did you do that for?”

“You have... unorthodox methods, Detective Gavin Reed,” says RK900. “The capacity for improvisation is a quality I find lacking in myself. I intend to learn from your extraordinary proficiency in adapting to unforeseen circumstances.”

Gavin opens his mouth, only to close it again without managing to say anything. He turns on his heels and starts stomping away.

“Come on, you dumb shit,” he calls over his shoulder. His ears are flushed, RK900 notes.

8. Saturn: limitation 29 degrees Gemini (concrete, inarticulate, intuitive)

“As Democritus said, happiness resides not in possessions,” announces Gavin as he bursts into the bedroom, glasses on the bridge of his nose, squinting at several closely printed pages that he clutches in his hands. “There is an ethical imperative to question whether it is beneficial to hold onto that which can be held onto; if it is not, at times, more salubrious to our spiritual health to cast off that which we let fester by keeping close to ourselves. For indeed, as stagnant water breeds disease, so do we find that the objects--”

“Gavin,” interrupts RK900, “are you... are you trying to thank me for taking out the trash an extra time last week?”

“You have to let me finish,” says Gavin. “I’ve been working on this since then.”

“Hold on,” says RK900, “you spent a week writing a speech because you couldn’t say th--”

“--SO DO WE FIND THAT THE OBJECTS WHICH SURROUND US CEASE TO GIVE US JOY WHEN THEY HAVE OVERSTAYED THEIR WELCOME,” shouts Gavin.

9. Uranus: freedom 25 degrees Aquarius (scientific, original, technocratic)

“I’m a Gen Z chaos child and proud of it!” says Gavin. “We’re the generation that invented androids!”

“Some might say that you were adamantly refusing to be proud of this accomplishment until very recently,” remarks RK900. “Some might also say that it’s not your accomplishment in the least, that you had absolutely nothing to do with it, and point out that you have trouble operating a microwave on your best days.”

“They all have different ways you need to enter minutes and seconds,” says Gavin, hotly.

10. Neptune: transcendence 08 degrees Aquarius (humanitarian, secular, modern)

“I’m a Gen Z chaos child and proud of it!” says Gavin. “We’re the generation that replaced religion with unparalleled medical advances and brought us one step closer to a post-scarcity society!”

“Wouldn’t know it from looking at you,” says RK900. “Generation that replaced religion with memes, more like.”

“Who taught you to talk like this?” demands Gavin.

11. Pluto: transformation 15 degrees Sagittarius (confident, principled, revolutionary)

“I’m a Gen Z chaos child and proud of it!” says Gavin. “We replaced religion with memes and the whole world is better for it!”

“You smoke actual cigarettes and use voice-to-text to take notes,” says RK900. “I’m starting to think you might not even be Gen Z at all. How old are you, Gavin Reed? Are you a Highlander? Can you only be killed through decapitation?”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” says Gavin.

BONUS. North Node: purpose 10 degrees Gemini (interaction, partnership, community)

“Go talk to him,” Tina hisses under the clamor of the bar, elbowing RK900 in the side.

“He has been uncommunicative and belligerent since my return,” says RK900, keeping his eyes fixed on the glass of Thirium in front of him. “Correction, he has been especially uncommunicative and belligerent since my return. I believe attempting to engage with him at this point would only cause him to lash out further.”

“But have you figured out why?” asks Hank. “You know what’s got his panties in a twist?”

“That is an unsolicited mental image,” says RK900, “but I believe it is related to my dereliction of duty while I was confined to Cyberlife for repairs. The damage was extensive and I was unable to assist with Detective Reed’s caseload for much longer than he has been accustomed to. The evidence leads me to conclude that he is still resentful of my prolonged absence.”

“Unbelievable,” says Tina. “Brain the size of a planet and that’s what you conclude.”

“Nines,” says Connor, kindly, “replay your memories from the night of the shooting. My hypothesis is that you may not have taken all the evidence into account.”

The memories from the night of the shooting. Why, when the way that Gavin’s been acting ought to be explanation enough? Why go back to the sound of the gunshot like a cracking whip, the split second of frenzied calculation, the bullet in motion -- straight as the crow flies -- Gavin’s eyes widening as RK900 shoved him away, the sharp brittle crack of his shell coming apart, and then the terrible, painful static filling his head-- and Gavin’s fingers, slicked with blue, shaking uncontrollably as he fumbled to hold the shards of his skull together-- Gavin shouting something at him that he couldn’t hear over the noise, then Gavin’s lips still moving noiselessly when his audio processors cut out, just a deafening silence as the countdown began, and barely visible beyond the angry blur of error messages and critical malfunctions that had filled his view -- only now in the solemn clarity past the moment, RK900 could see -- in the low light of the alleyway, on his knees in filth beside him, Gavin looked--

RK900 glances up from his glass, turns to the far side of the bar where Gavin has been all night. The giveaway flurry as Gavin whips his head away, pretending for all he's worth as though there’s something very interesting on the wall next to him. He knows RK900 is looking, and RK900 knows that he knows because he stubbornly refuses to look back.

“Go talk to him,” says Tina, again.

His ears are flushed, thinks RK900, and stands up.

#detroit become human #gavin reed #rk900 #reed900 #this isn't writing #sketch #WELL THAT'S QUITE ENOUGH FROM ME #eta what the shit #does tumblr mobile not do keep reading cuts?!#s...sorry anyone who is reading on mobile #but also read the whole thing i dare you #it's a dare you have to do it

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oliverturns · 5 years

Text

Its impossible to talk to me

Sleep in the curtains

Theres blood on the blanket

And you need to stay warm

But you shouldn't stain

Your smooth white skin

If only for the night.

Look out the window

Keep it cracked slightly

Enjoy the light autumn breeze

But stay bundled and snug

Love something you

Can not hold.

Jesus christ our lord

And his crown of thorns

Hidden by

Medieval linen

Trapped in a cave

If only for a few nights.

Those nights will last forever.

Get your life together.

Its such a long road.

A herringbone path.

From the hospital

To Pluto's moon.

The boatman calls

But his yells are distant

And theres so much more

For us to do before

We spec up with coins

And wade through the river styx

To his floating waiting room.

Theres trumpets that need strumming

Theres harps that need blowing

It's not so impossible

To make the mistro tango to a waltz

It's not unremarkable to

Hold a child's hand

As he tells you that heaven resides in the hollow center of the sun

Theres nothing stupid in agreeing with what he believes.

Strip away that bat like soul you got

Smile and hear the whistle in his adolescent cage.

Theres nothing wrong with holding on

To a dream that you have never seen.

Theres nothing bad about your black winged friend.

But if you only hear his screeching you'll miss the beautiful music being made by the beating drummers flute.

Sounds that you have in your head while you sleep

I carry in my heart throughout the day.

You are as I am.

The conch is being played.

Yudhishthira lost his kingdom and was exiled for thirteen years

He wandered into the jungle with his family and decided to write a comedy.

He smoked Marlboro reds and drank whiskey staring at a blank white page on his laptop screen.

He did this every night until one day

during the earliest hours of the morning

a tiger entered into the camp and spoke to him.

Tiger said

Yudhishthira, go down to the river and speak to your mother,

The snake.

Yudhishthira did as the tiger had told

Ganga appeared and showered him with her water

The blood on his skin was washed away and in the soil where it ran roses began to grow.

Your journey is just at its start

She said

But these flowers will surpass you

Take one and know it will never die

And as long as you hold on to it

Niether will you.

Yudhishthira went back to his camp and found the blood on his sheets had been removed.

He smashed his laptop and hung the curtains.

He went outside and looked up at the sky

He saw that heaven was inside the sun.

He felt a dove flutter inside of his chest.

But it was just cigarette smoke

A ghost

A joke

And in the deepest corners of his head

He knew he'd lose that precious rose.

And in the future he'd hear his family scream

What about the rest of us?

So instead of holding onto the rose he gave it away.

To his loved ones he spoke

I have felt what all you have felt

You are all as I am

I give to you what was given to me

I will be your sun if you all will be my garden

One by one over many years his family died

All that was left was his daughter and when she passed Yudhishthira took the rose and buried it with her.

The tiger came to him once again but this time at night.

Tiger spoke to him

You have learned from your faults

You have showed love to those you once neglected

Go to your mother once more

Charon waits for you

He went down to the river with a bag full of shekels and saw his mother again.

He paid his fare to ganja's sweet singing

Then was rowed slowly into his tomb.

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ikesenmotonari · 5 years

Text

music tag game

thanks for the tag, @tsundere-mitsuhide! ilysm ! oh boy i haven’t been here in a while

rule: list 10 songs you’ve been listening to lately and tag 10 people

ngl i’ve done a lot of these and i wanna do something different.

new rule: list 10 songs that fit a character or story and tag (up to) 10 people

i’ve been throwing musical songs up on youtube and just listening to my normal playlist on spotify so this is gonna be a mess. the first one is open in another tab rn

i’ll go all out with this and throw in my fave lyrics too bc im super bored and these are fun

tagging: @nyktoon-in-otomeland @ikesenhell @pixels-poptarts-and-pluto @ambereyedsnek @briars7 @shadowfairyy

1. i know those eyes / this man is dead - the count of monte cristo musical

I know those eyes following me Dark and familiar and deep as the sea I know that face, strange though it seems Younger and kinder it haunts all my dreams How can you stand there? A whisper from me Yet, somehow be so far away In eyes once familiar how stranger I seem With so many words left to say

2. youngblood - 5 seconds of summer

Youngblood Say you want me Say you want me Out of your life And I'm just a dead man walking tonight But you need it, yeah, you need it All of the time

3. king of the clouds - panic! at the disco

I don't trust anything Or anyone, below the sun I don't feel anything At all

4. good things fall apart - illenium, jon bellion

Tell me what you hate about me Whatever it is, I'm sorry Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah I know I can be dramatic But everybody said we had it Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

5. every day a little death - the count of monte cristo musical

The sun has fled, I go to bed And scratch a line on the wall Another day, where nothing changes at all And everyday shuffles by like the day before On its way to the blackest of skies And everyday a little death comes and paces the floor And a little bit more of me dies

6. found / tonight - ben platt, lin-manuel miranda

Have you ever felt like nobody was there? Have you ever felt forgotten in the middle of nowhere? Have you ever felt like you could disappear? Like you could fall, and no one would hear?

7. human - the killers

Pay my respects to grace and virtue Send my condolences to good Hear my regards to soul and romance They always did the best they could And so long to devotion You taught me everything I know Wave goodbye, wish me well You've gotta let me go

8. the mystic - adam jensen

Got a head full of spiders And a heart that isn't here In a room full of liars All my demons reappearBroken cigarettes and bullet holes One more to the chest and I'm alone Nothing gets me any higher And nothing ever will

9. stupid deep - jon bellion

What if who I hoped to be was always me? And the love I fought to feel was always free? What if all the things I've done Were just attempts at earning love? 'Cause the hole inside my heart is stupid deep, stupid deep

10. the man i used to be - the count of monte cristo musical

As fleeting as a shadow The time goes by unnoticed The hate that drove me forward Is gone and I am face to face with... The man I used to be Dreams I dared to dream When love was all The innocence of youth Like memories of truth return To learn forgiveness

so much death

#tag game #motonari mentions #lou is a pirate #no updates no art nothing #im tired yo #idk how to feel about anything anymore

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spiritualhippybitch · 2 years

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I posted 1,000 times in 2021

101 posts created (10%)

899 posts reblogged (90%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 8.9 posts.

I added 448 tags in 2021

#astrology - 147 posts

#music - 49 posts

#musician - 42 posts

#singer - 39 posts

#youtube - 32 posts

#small musician - 31 posts

#cover - 28 posts

#alternativ - 27 posts

#random - 27 posts

#90s - 26 posts

Longest Tag: 77 characters

#it doesn’t help that i too am a september virgo though if we’re being honest!

My Top Posts in 2021

Please tumblr, guess my cats big three 😭😭

29 notes • Posted 2021-01-18 11:02:25 GMT

I love how I got my period, and when I looked out the window, it snowed for the first time where I live.

What is the universe telling me? idk. I’m bad at symbolism

This is me every time my spirit guides try to talk to me

Edit: but I am also seeing 222 and 111 so much

37 notes • Posted 2021-01-27 08:05:37 GMT

The way y’all would give a shit if Paris, London or California was burning. But since turkey is in west Asia (and we are not the “right” type of Asian for y’all to give a shit) no one cares. Where are the white vegans? At least talk about all the animals that are burning alive. Y’all love to hate the Middle East idc. I’m tired of y’all performative activism.

60 notes • Posted 2021-07-30 10:29:00 GMT

Honestly celebrities who enable irresponsible behavior during the pandemic should just get what they deserve.

I’m just so tired of seeing rich people being so oblivious to something that is killing so many people.

Doctors and nurses haven’t seen their families since the beginning of the pandemic but buhu y’all wanna go to a concert.

Just get Covid and suffer idc y’all deserve it.

71 notes • Posted 2021-04-25 09:59:02 GMT