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hopeymchope · 1 year

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No hardcore fandom has ever died so quickly and so completely as Veronica Mars. This is the story of its murder.

They should study Veronica Mars in Hollywood. I'm serious. It's an incredible story of how to go from "loud, passionate fanbase with its own fandom name that campaigns and advocates constantly for it" to "absolutely zero fucking interest" damn near OVERNIGHT with just ONE epically terri-bad decision.

If you weren't there, you don't understand: From 2007 to 2014, the fandom — the "Marshmallows," as they called themselves — were everywhere in the Internet's geek spaces, my friends. They routinely beat the drum about the series' three seasons and its excellence, lamented its cancellation, pushed others to give the show a try, and always - ALWAYS - proudly and loudly called for the series to be revived.

FULL DISCLOSURE/CONFESSION: I've not even watched that much Veronica Mars, frankly... ? Yeah, I'm sorry! it does seem pretty good from like the four-or-five hours I've experienced firsthand. I just never took the time to sit down with it. Regardless, I find fandoms and their dynamics — both how they operate internally and how they display to others externally — deeply fascinating. And I honestly find them easier to study from the outside than the inside. Like, if I'm IN a fandom, I'm more likely to stay in my corner and ignore places that seem negative. But being on the outside lets me just... absorb what's out there, looking into every forum without judgment. It's like studying pop-culture sociology or something? And it helps that I'm very close to some serious(-ly burnt) Marshmallows. It makes it so much easier to find and absorb the gamut of the fandom.

Besides: There is NO fandom story I've ever seen that's anything like what happened to Veronica Mars and the Marshmallows.

(Time to insert a brief explainer for the uninitiated: Veronica Mars was a TV series that aired from 2004-2007 on the now-deceased UPN network wherein Kristen Bell played the titular character, a high school girl whose single dad was a private detective in the fictional community of Neptune, California. She grew up working "unofficially" as his assistant, which meant that she herself was effectively a teenage private detective.

The three core elements of the series were: 1) Veronica investigating each week's big mystery with plenty of quips and snark, 2) Watching Veronica's various relationships develop and shift, with most of the focus given to a) her relationship to her father and b) Her romantic pursuits (which began as the Veronica/Duncan/Logan triangle before eventually becoming focused on the slow-burn, off-on Veronica/Logan love story), and 3) The gradual development of that season's "mytharc" — the overarching BIG MYSTERY that doesn't get resolved or wrapped until the season finale. So it went over the course of two seasons that took place in high school and the third, shorter season that was at the start of Veronica's collegiate career.)

Just how big and how passionate were the Marshmallows? WELL! When series creator Rob Thomas (not the Matchbox 20 guy) and star Kristen Bell announced the Kickstarter campaign for the Veronica Mars movie in March 2013, it achieved its heretofore-unprecedented goal of TWO MILLION GODDAMN DOLLARS within less than 12 hours. At that time, it was the biggest Kickstarter goal to ever succeed — and certainly the fastest to reach that kind of height. Fans fell OVER themselves to pay out for it. Hell, my own significant other was DEEP in the tank for VM at the time and invested enough to get multiple t-shirts as backer rewards as well as a disk copy of the movie when it eventually came home.

And AFTER the movie hit in 2014? It was thankfully beloved and embraced! The once-teenage characters were adults who were actually out living on their own and working for a living, but the fandom had grown up with them, so it wasn't like they were begging for them to stay young students. They embraced Adult Veronica and her new adventure. The fandom rejoiced loudly and continued to be all over the geek side of the Internet... where they, of course, still wanted more. Sure, there were new novels in the aftermath (which were written by the creator of the series), but most of the Marshmallows were calling for more movies or a streaming revival.

And then, at long last... season four was actually announced. And there was much (premature) rejoicing yet again.

Yes, Veronica Mars returned for a fourth season on Hulu in 2019. It was just eight episodes, and it was heavily centered on one season-long mystery instead of sprinkling that amongst a bunch of smaller ones, but it would still feature the same ol' Veronica. They promised a new, more "adult" mystery/investigation plus a strong focus on Veronica and Logan's love story.

New Hulu purchased the rights to the first three seasons and hyped up its presence on the platform while marketing the return for the new run. The marketing team played up the most popular quips from the show's history plus put out TONS of stuff centered on the Logan/Veronica ship to pump up the fans.

The season was dropped all at once using the classic Netflix "binge" model in July 2019. And then... afterwards?

There was a brief explosion of LOUD RAGE from the Marshmallows at what series creator Rob Thomas had to done to burn and spite the fandom and ruin his own goodwill.

SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4: See, at the end of the movie, Veronica and Logan finally entered into a long-term relationship. In season four, they've been dating for years, and Logan proposes marriage. But of course there has to be drama/obstacles: In this case, Veronica isn't sure she's ready to marry... or capable of being in a marriage. Ah, but of course she eventually realizes how much Logan means to her. The two are married, and, in the season finale... Logan is killed by a car bomb in the penultimate scene. The final scene is a flashfoward to a year later, where Veronica leaves Neptune alone.

For most fandoms, that'd be a memorable point of pain. A big ol' speed bump that ultimately throws some people off the bus, leaving only the die-hards. But the fact that fans had been invested in this relationship for literally 15 years and that Hulu (and creator Rob Thomas) had heavily marketed the new season as being a big romantic event for the ship... it was too much. Unlike the aftermath of the Star Wars sequels, there was no lingering group of die-hard fans who were open to whatever was next — at least no significant one. I did some Googling and could only find TWO people who still wanted another season.

Funnily enough? Critics LOVED this. Hell, Vanity Fair infamously penned an editorial about how Veronica Mars had "finally grown up" with this finale. I suppose all the other murders and deaths and drug overdoses and r*pe weren't "mature" enough before now for... some... reason. (The same editorial also featured the author openly hating on Veronica ever being in a relationship because it causes "arrested development" and declaring that the movie -- which was acclaimed by both critics AND fans alike, I remind you -- was a lame dud. So. The writer must be a reeeaaaal fun person.)

But a series doesn't live based on critical acclaim, as it turns out. The fandom was murdered overnight. "Marshmallows" stopped appearing in geek spaces online entirely. No one expressed interest in seeing the next season or the next movie. The constant flow of fan AMVs on YouTube and fanfics on AO3 dried up to nothing or damn nearly so.

Since 2019 ? Nothing. Chirping crickets. An intensely dedicated fandom of 12 years was just... vaporized.

I've never seen anything like it before OR since.

That's why it's so fucking fascinating.

So what went wrong?

Creator Rob Thomas was adamant about two things: ONE, the series was intended to be a noir show, which meant there couldn't be any happiness for its protagonist. And TWO, the death of Logan was necessary to evolve and grow the series.

Thomas thought that having Veronica in a relationship would be holding her back, and that a marriage would absolutely kill the series and leave her stagnant. It never even occurred to him that marriage isn't the end of a character's life and growth. It never occurred to him that plenty of drama can be had AFTER someone is married, or that development/growth could be that the characters mature enough to be capable of maintaining a committed relationship. Thomas' view of his own universe was so myopic that he couldn't conceive of any possible way that Veronica could still be a private detective involved in life-threatening investigations AND be married at the same time. Futhermore, he felt that fans just wanted Veronica to become a pregnant housewife, which is about as far from what Marshmallows were after as you can get without straight-up killing Veronica and/or Logan. He managed to do the only thing wronger than what he wrongly thought was their insistence.

On top of the above, Rob Thomas only viewed "noir" as a vehicle for total fatalism... despite the fact that many of the most famous noir stories are cynical and full of moral ambiguity, but they still feature a positive outcome. The Big Sleep still has the protagonist get the girl. The Set-Up arguably ends with the happiest possible ending in spite of the beating the hero receives.

Perhaps most importantly? Despite Thomas own insistence that Veronica Mars was always "noir," the majority of both TV critics and fans did not think that designation ever truly applied. I suspect that's the reason why Thomas decided to go as dark and fatalistic as possible: He wanted to be noir, and he was being told that he wasn't. So he went so far into noir that he killed his own most popular property.

He was adamant that it was the only way for the series to grow. But as it turns out, it was instead the only way for the series to permanently end. Without that season four finale, a passionate group of fans would still be begging for more. With it? It's over. Nobody fucking cares now.

That's kind of amazing.

#veronica mars #rob thomas #fandom #dead fandom #marshmallows #burnt marshmallows #fandom histories #the death of veronica mars #the day veronica mars died #gifs #television gifs #tv gifs #veronica mars gifs #vmars

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barefoot-joker · 3 months

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Snake in the Garden~Yandere! Lucifer X Reader

Hey, guys! I hope you all are well! Today I bring you a Yandere! Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) story. I do apologize if he's OOC, I tried to make him a bit suave. I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night!

Words: 2105

Warnings: Snakes, Kidnapping, Swearing

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

I hummed as I slipped on my straw hat and sandals. Today was gardening day and I was very excited to be outside. My garden was my passion. It was something to look forward to each day after work. It was especially nice in the eighty degree weather we were having, cool breezes making it bearable to be outside.

Grabbing my metal bucket with my shears, trowel, and gloves, I made my way out the back door of my house. My neighbor Terry was sitting on his porch rocking in his chair, basking in the sunshine. When he saw me he waved. “Yello, Y/n! Enjoying the day?”

“Of course! How about you Mr. Johnson?”

“Oh you know, just taking a sunbath while the wife is out grocery shopping. If you catch my drift.”

“Perfectly.”

“Well have fun, little lady!”

“Will do, thank you!”

I gave a simple wave and headed towards my small garden. It wasn’t the most spectacular thing, only having five or six rows of vegetables, but I was so proud of my little paradise. I set my bucket down and walked down the row of beans, inspecting each one. My humming continued as I began picking and gently setting the vegetables in my pail. As I was working I heard something hissing. Confused, I looked around and didn’t see anything. I turned back to my work. It was silent for a moment until the hissing continued. I glanced around when suddenly my eyes caught sight of something white in the bushes. I stood up and walked over, pushing the foliage to the side. I gasped when I saw a white snake, its pale pink underbelly had a large gash. I slowly reached down and stroked its back. The snake turned its head, the red eyes staring me down. “Hey there, little fellow. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt ya.”

As I continued to stroke its back, the snake must have understood my message. “Let’s get you patched up, little guy.”

I gently grabbed a hold and made sure to cradle him close. Walking back inside, I set him in my kitchen sink and went to grab supplies. I made my way to the bathroom where I grabbed some gauze and disinfectant from a cupboard. I then returned back to the kitchen. I lifted my scaly friend to flip him over and started to rub some disinfectant on his gash. I grabbed some paper towel and dabbed it dry. “Almost done, little fellow.”

Ripping off some gauze, I carefully wrapped it around the wound. Tying it off, I sealed it with a kiss from the fingertips. “And, all done! Not my best work, but it’ll do.”

The snake’s tongue flicked out in appreciation. “You know what? I think I’ll name you Red. You know, after your very beautiful red eyes!”

The white snake hissed and slithered closer to the edge of the sink. I picked him up and cuddled him close as we walked back outside. When we made it to my garden I gently let him down before I went back to work. Red stayed the whole time I was outside, slithering alongside me. When it was my time to head inside, I said my goodbyes and watched him slither back into the bushes.

After my run in with Red I would see him every time I entered my garden. I would lay out some greenery for him to eat and some water to drink all the time. He would even wrap himself around my arms as I worked. One day as I was preparing my small table, Red came out of the bushes as per usual. He slithered up my leg and I couldn’t help but giggle. “Red, that tickles! Stop! I have to get this ready!”

He just stayed there. “You silly boy.”

I caressed the top of his head and set up my nice (favorite color) tablecloth. Just as I was placing two mugs down, I heard a male voice call my name. Red slid off my leg and curled down by the table leg. I turned to see my boyfriend s/o standing at my back door. “S/o!”

I ran at him and gave a big hug. “I’m so glad you could make it!”

“Me too. We’ve been planning this little lunch date for a while.”

I led him over to the table and we sat. “I made us some tea. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not, honey. You know I’m down to try anything.”

We both took a sip from our cups. “So, how has your garden been going?”

“Pretty well actually. All of my vegetables have been thriving, which is nice. I even met a new friend!”

“A new friend? Well I’d love to meet them.”

“Hold on one second.”

I leaned under the table and gently picked up my snake buddy. “This is Red. Isn’t he gorgeous? I’ve never seen a snake with a pink underbelly before.”

“Me neither. Can I see him?”

“Of course!”

I started to hand him over when suddenly Red struck forward and sunk his fangs into S/o’s hand. “Ow! God dammit that hurt!”

“Red!”

I set him down and gently took my boyfriend’s hand. “Are you alright?”

“No, your fucking snake bit me!”

I sucked on my teeth. “It does look bad. Here, let’s take you to the clinic.”

We stood up and walked to my car. I had him sit in the passenger seat while I drove.

Hours later I had dropped off S/o at his apartment. We had gotten him some antibiotics and luckily Red wasn’t poisonous. Thank god. I sighed as I slipped off my shoes and walked into my living room. I was looking at the floor when suddenly I let out a gasp. Standing staring at some of the photos on my wall was a short man, his back towards me. From what I could see he wore a big white hat, white and red jacket, white puffy pants and tall black boots. At the sound of me entering, the man turned and I couldn’t help but let out another gasp. The stranger had white skin, short blonde hair and red circles on his cheeks. His red eyes were quite striking as they seemed to stare into my soul. “Ah Y/n, you’re back! Jolly good.”

“W-who are you?”

A black cane with an apple on top magically appeared and the man gave a theatrical bow. “How rude of me. My name is Lucifer dear, but you’re probably more familiar with calling me Red.”

“R-red? But you’re a person and he was a snake…wait a minute. Lucifer? As in the Devil?”

He let out a dark chuckle and I stepped back upon seeing the two rows of sharp teeth. “Exactly!”

I gulped and ran off, trying to head for my front door. I screamed when he appeared in front of me, but this time dressed in green. I bolted towards my back door but he reappeared, this time in red. A few more Lucifers in different colored clothes surrounded me, parting to let the original through. “Look Mr. Satan sir, I didn’t summon you, nobody sacrificed me, nothing like that! Why don’t you just return to Hell and forget this ever happened!”

His cane came up under my chin and lifted my head to look into his eyes. “And forget the lovely lady that helped me? Not a chance! I was lucky I stumbled upon you that day. You see, I had gotten into a fight with a contractor and he got quite a few hits in. I got away with a stomach wound and that’s when I slithered into your life. You patched me up and made me whole!”

His face got closer to mine as he told his tale, our noses almost touching. “You’re so intoxicating, dear. Just like the apple I offered to Eve.”

My breath hitched as his lips got close. “Okay, I helped you. Now why can’t you just go away?”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Why not? Please, leave me alone.”

A few tears collected in the corners of my eyes and he was quick to wipe them away. “I’ll explain in due time. But I’ve wasted enough time. We need to get going.”

“Going?”

“Yes! You’re coming to Hell with me!”

My eyes widened and I attempted to flee. His arm wrapped around my waist and with the other he waved his cane in the air. Golden dust began to accumulate on the floor, swooshing around and around until a portal formed. The arm around my waist forced me to walk with him. He threw his cane into the air and like magic it disappeared. “Now this may cause a slight headache but I’ll be sure to tend to it when we arrive.”

“No please-”

“In we go!”

He forced us to jump forward and I let out a shriek. I tightly closed my eyes and my stomach lifted into my throat as we fell. This feeling stayed until I landed on something soft. My body was tense as I slowly opened my eyes. It seemed we had landed in a foyer of sorts. The large marble fireplace had a roaring blaze going and from what I could see out the large Victorian windows it was night outside. The dark red clouds swirled like my nerves as I watched Lucifer fluff his jacket. He turned to me and smiled. “I apologize if I frightened you, my dear. It wasn’t my intention. I know first time portal jumping can be quite tedious.”

He adjusted his hat before sitting next to me on the deep red velvet chaise lounge. “Now then I know you skipped lunch since you took your little boy toy to the hospital, so how about some dinner? I can cook a mean steak!”

The situation was starting to be too much to handle and I couldn’t help the sobs that wracked my body. “Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay. Shh, shh. There, there.”

Lucifer wrapped his arms around me in a hug and I could feel his claws combing my hair. “It’s alright, little apple. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

He just made me cry harder. “I just want to go home!”

“This is your home now. I know it’ll take some getting used to, but I promise if you give Hell a chance you’ll forget all about silly Earth and that wretched boyfriend of yours.”

His claws dug in a bit when he brought up S/o. It made me shudder. “But he doesn’t matter anymore. I’m here for you and that’s most important.”

He pulled away slightly to wipe at my eyes, his touch gentle compared to before. “You know what will cheer you up? A nice cup of spiced hot cocoa! I’ll be right back.”

He stood and made his way towards the white door. Before leaving he gave me a smile. “Don’t go anywhere.”

The door shut softly. As soon as he was gone I quickly looked around trying to find an exit. I spotted a door opposite me. I ran to it, threw it open, and rushed out of the room. My legs carried me far as I dashed through the spiraling halls, rushing down a grand staircase, and arriving at what I assumed was the front door. I yanked them open and before I could step out an angry hiss made me pause. Two large golden snakes sat on the doorstep and stared me down harshly. I slammed the door shut and urged myself to breathe slower. “I see you’ve met David and Goliath.”

My head shot up to see Lucifer standing there without his jacket, a faint smirk on his lips. “Why the heck do you have giant snakes on your property?!”

“To protect us. Being the rulers of Hell comes with a target on your back.”

“What do you mean rulers?”

“I brought you here for a reason, Y/n, silly goose!”

He began walking towards me. “I intend to court you and make you my Queen. I’ve been alone for seven years. My wife and I split and my daughter and I don’t have the best relationship. However, I intend to rectify that, my sweet apple. You and I are going to be together forever.”

He stopped in front of me and held my face in his hands, thumbs gently rubbing my cheekbones. My heart sank as I realized I wasn’t getting out of this any time soon and the look of adoration in Lucifer’s eyes made that fact.

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neil-gaiman · 8 months

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Greetings, Mr. Neil! I don't even know if you'll answer, but to start, I wanted to tell you that I love your job. I love your shared work with Mr. Terry, the book I consider a masterpiece. I'm also sure Mr. Terry is looking down at you from up above, smiling, with a pleased face, because he is proud of you that you managed to make his wish come true alongside a great group of wonderful actors and directors.

I wanted to share with you this little thing that means a lot to me. It was the year 2019, I was going around various cities to do visits and check-ups for my mental health problems, when one day I decided to enter a bookstore, and there I saw "Good Omens" for the first time. I picked it up and looked at it, but I was in a hurry so I didn't buy it. On the night of that same day I had a dream, a very realistic dream where I saw myself enter that bookstore, pick up the book, pay for it and come out of that store with it in my arms. I didn't pay much attention to it, but then, the next night, I had the exact same dream. I had this dream three nights in a row. On the fourth day I had to go back to the city where that bookstore was, and I finally decided to buy the book. Since that day, I haven't had that strange, all too real dream. It was as if the book itself was calling me. It was an eerie feeling but also very beautiful and intriguing. I read the book and then found out that a TV series was coming out soon! I bought the book of the series, the DVD, and recently also the Script Book! I'm a huge fan, and I'm very proud of being one. Good Omens has helped me a lot in particularly difficult moments and continues to help me to this day.

Now, the question... I have so many I can't make up my mind, but... it's about when Gabriel remembered something for the first time.

He remembered what God had said to Job. He said it, too, but his voice was kind of distorted, and in that distortion, I could hear the voice of God overlapping. Why is it? Was it meant to be heard? Because I remember you saying you didn't need God's voice for this second season...

Thanks for reading this far, and thanks again for bringing such a masterpiece into the world together with Mr. Terry. <3

That's Frances McDormand as God, yes. I didn't need her voice as narrator, but we needed it as God in Episode 2...

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cinnbar-bun · 5 months

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Watching Reality TV With You (Various One Piece Characters x Reader)

Characters: Zoro, Sanji, Trafalgar Law, Luffy, Perona + Mihawk, Nami, Kizaru/Borsalino, Eustass Kidd

A/n: Sorry I’m a huge fan of Real Housewives so take these silly headcanons!!!

Note: GN reader, the relationships with the character(s) and reader can be seen as platonic/romantic depending on what you prefer :) Mihawk + Perona’s relationship to each other is also not stated just for your personal preference. These are all just very silly things, don’t take this too seriously since it’s crack!

Zoro

“The hell? Why are you watching this crap? It’s not even real!”

He just sighs and grumbles about how this is dumb the whoooooole time.

Tends to sharpen his swords or try and nap while it’s on.

Until lowkey he starts peeking a bit like ‘did she just say that?’

Suddenly has opinions on it and tries to deny he’s interested but his eyes are GLUED once they start arguing and the suspenseful music is playing.

“Well, if I was her, I think I’d just kick them. Or maybe cut their car in half.”

Sanji

Opposite of Zoro. The man is probably a bigger fan than you and most likely is reading the gossip online.

It’s your weekly night hangout where he brings snacks and cozy blankets for you two to sit and enjoy while watching.

Gasps audibly and loudly.

He’s both the best and worst to talk about this with because he respects all women and he forgives them for everything, so they all get passes from him.

“Yes she may have talked badly about [name] and stole [name]’s house and maybe crashed a car. But we all do that. We need to show forgiveness. She’s having a tough time- her dress came in the wrong color.”

Law

Like Zoro, he’s very disturbed by the very prospect of reality tv.

But he’ll try. Let it be known he’s trying.

He doesn’t get interested in it but he does try to follow along so he can discuss it with you.

Not gonna lie though he’s the guy who’s focusing on their plastic surgery or illnesses.

Will literally pause the show just to examine what they may/may not have done and if the surgeon botched it up.

Imma just manifest this, he’s prolly a Terry Dubrow stan.

“Who’s your favorite Housewife so far?” “Terry.” “But… Terry isn’t-“ “It’s Terry.”

Unironically would drop a horrible quote from whichever show you’ve been watching and he’d say it so seriously that everyone’s jaw will drop and it takes him a sec for him to realize what he said.

Luffy

Imma keep this short for you- he ain’t looking.

He ain’t caring.

No thoughts.

He only cares when there’s a party and food is being served.

“Woooooah! Look at all that food!!!”

Doesn’t even recognize who is who and will just mindlessly wait for food to come on screen.

Perona + Mihawk

I’m putting this as a two for one they’re my everything <3

You and Perona are the ones who watch it lots. Perona does complain about how much they argue but she loooooves looking at the houses and clothes of the women. Makes comments about wanting to fly first class or visit the beautiful places they go to.

Mihawk is reading.

Perona is biased as hell and only defends the people that are wearing cute clothes. Otherwise? Shit list.

“Ugh! What is that dress?! It’s so hideous!” “Is that all you’re focusing on?” “I agree with (Y/n), Perona, she just had gotten into some relationship troubles with [name], so I think [name] is wrong.”

You and Perona are gasping and shocked that Mihawk 1) talked and 2) had an opinion on this???

Turns out the man had been listening the whole time (he’s quite the multitasker).

If Perona is the most biased viewer, Mihawk tries to remain objective and impartial. He's always listing out the nuances of a conversation.

“I think [name] is just jealous.” “Well, if we remember in season 4, episode 14-“

He’s a smart ass sometimes, but it’s okay, he’s our smart ass.

Perona is always enthusiastic about marathoning the shows again and watching it. She tends to do dress up requirements for watching it.

Nami

I’d hesitate to call Nami a “fan” of reality shows.

She’s aware of them, yes. Does she particularly care for it? Nah, not really.

They’re more background noise and eye candy for her.

She just likes putting them on and glancing every once in a while to gaze at the beautiful houses and trips.

“Oh that’s so expensive… imagine what you could do with all that!”

Sometimes has a fun game for herself to estimate the cost of an outfit, accessory, or house. It’s scary how accurate and detailed she can get with it.

Tends to mostly focus on fashion and get new ideas to steal- I mean, incorporate.

Doesn’t have strong opinions on the cast, but she isn’t too crazy about the louder members.

Kizaru/Borsalino

He’s heard of it, he thinks.

And, well, since you’re so into them, he’ll give it a watch.

“Oh my, these ladies are incredibly wealthy and beautiful.”

He’s not even ogling them he’s just amazed at the way they dress, behave, and/or decorate their spaces. It’s almost like being starstruck???

The guy who will pause the tv at certain scenes to point at random decorations or outfits and be like “darling, would you like that?”

He does get sad when they start to fight.

“Aw… I was just liking the party… why are they arguing now?”

His favorite cast member is your favorite one <3 he’s just a cheerleader like that, dear.

He could listen to you talk about it for hours if you wanted, and he’d be amazed by your knowledge.

“You know, if you’d like for me to have you be on a show like this, I could probably pull some strings!”

Kidd

1000000x worse than Zoro

I cannot recommend putting it on in front of him.

“The hell is this shit?! Turn it off!”

You refuse and now he’s stuck watching grown women argue over dumb things (in his mind).

Complains the ENTIIIIRRRRE time. Nonstop commenting and complaining.

Okay but he’s hooked after a bit, the drama is just too good.

But now he’s WORSE cuz he’s got OPINIONS and THEYRE ALL SHITTY!

This man is an instigator. I swear to god he’s just saying shit just to rile you up and be contrarian.

He's stanning the biggest menaces on the show.

You two will probably get into (very silly) arguments about some of the situations and people.

And unlike say, Sanji, who tries to defend a person, Eustass will just say you’re wrong and then add something unhinged to it.

“Naw you just don’t get it. If I was her, personally, I think I’d just burn their mansion down and then slash their tires.”

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deathbecomesthem · 6 months

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Roomies 4 +18 ONLY

Eddie Munson x Best Friend Reader | 2.2K - Previous Part

*This series will/does contain smut, angst, and fluff. Each chapter will have its own warnings for any potential triggering contents.

This chapter contains some angsty feelings. The aftermath of some interesting choices between best friends.

---

The alarm is unnecessary. You didn’t sleep. You laid in this bed and let the dread build. At 3:28 in the morning, you put your vibrator back in its spot in the top drawer of your bedside table. It just laid next to you for hours, as if acknowledging it meant you had to acknowledge the fact that you and Eddie… what exactly? You don’t even know. It’s Eddie.

It doesn’t matter right now, because that alarm means you have to get up and take a shower. It means you have to get to the coffee shop and start the mundane tasks involved in over-caffeinating the general college town population. It means you can sneak out of this tiny, two-bedroom apartment before Eddie even wakes up. Thank god for the opening shift.

Except that you hear the distinct sound of the door next to your own open at exactly the same moment yours creaks open. Time stands still, both of you stare at each other like deer caught in headlights. Neither fight nor flight, only freeze. And then you realize you’re dressed in a too small bath towel and nothing else.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” you crouch a little, trying to get more coverage from the faded blue terry cloth rectangle you have wrapped around your center, “I thought you’d be sleeping. I’m sorry.”

Eddie averts his eyes after making a clean sweep from your head to your toes, and sighs, “shit, I’m sorry. I just need to take a leak. Uh, can I do that before you get in there?” Eddie’s eyes are focused on a small water spot on the ceiling waiting for your answer. The nightlight in the hallway outlet is the only illumination, but plenty to see the way the apples of his cheeks are turning tomato red.

“Yeah, I’ll wait in here,” you rush back to your room and close the door a little too hard and cringe away from it. The time spent sitting cold and naked on the edge of your bed is plenty to consider the regrets. Eddie’s seen you in your bikini, which leaves less to the imagination than the towel, but things are different.

“All clear. Have fun!” Eddie’s voice calls through the door at you, and you can imagine the grimace on his face at his own words. “Sorry, I’m just gonna go back to bed now.” You wait in your spot until you hear his heavy footsteps move past your door, and the sound of his door closing.

What the fuck did I do. I ruined everything, that’s what I did. This is the first time you think this today, but it will be the mantra that echoes in your mind over and over. What the fuck did I do?

—

Dry skim milk cappuccino, breve latte, dirty chai, black eye. The drinks don’t stop coming for hours, and you're happy to shut off your mind while you make the espresso machine perform for you. You ignore the way your hands tremble, over caffeinated and under rested, they still move and answer your requests without fail. Muscle memory, what a gift.

“You taking your break?” Megan points to the clock behind your head. You’ve been standing at the barista station for 4 hours, and you’ve only got 2 left for the day. You consider pushing through to the end, but can already hear your manager’s voice reprimanding you when she looks at your timecard.

“Yeah, I’ll be back in 30.” You wipe the frothing wand and rinse out the portafilters before heading to the food station for a bowl of chicken soup and a half of a stale mini baguette. Whole wheat and hard as a rock. The table in the corner is empty, so you make a bee line, grabbing a discarded campus newspaper on your way.

You tick down stray answers in the crossword while dipping, letting the bread soak up the broth from your soup when the next page catches your eye. The classifieds. Apartment rentals. It can’t hurt to look, you think. You’d never leave Eddie in a lurch, but what if you could find something next month, let him find someone to replace you. He’d be better off anyway. He’s too sweet to say it, but it’s true.

You ignore the small voice in the back of your mind that’s yelling, this is what you always do. You run away and miss out on good things because you get scared. But you’re not just scared, you’re humiliated. A part of you thought that your little display last night would end with Eddie in your bed. That he’d know instinctively that you want him, and he’d answer your call without you having to actually say anything.

Stupid, stupid, stupid child.

Looking for a female roommate, no pets, 3 bedroom apartment, $175/month. You circle that one. Close to campus, nonsmoking, one bedroom unit, $250/month. A little out of your price range, but you circle it anyway.

By the end of your lunch break you’ve got 6 leads on available apartments, a half eaten soggy baguette, and a bottomless pit of regret in your stomach.

—

Eddie slept, but was plagued with dreams of your smiling face. That’s all that he can remember - your face accompanied by a deep longing to reach out and touch your skin. He never could, he just kept seeing and wanting, but never reaching. When he woke up for work at 11:00 in the morning, you were sitting in that corner booth at the coffee shop looking for apartments. It would break his heart to know that.

But he doesn’t know that. He knows that he fucked up last night, even if it’s not clear how. Or why. Or what happened. If something happened. Did something happen, or did he just imagine it? Fuck this fucking noise. His mind is too busy, and it’s not saying anything that makes sense. He wants to sit down and talk with his best friend about it. Let them help make sense of things. He wants to sit with you, his head resting in your lap while you run your fingers through his hair, and tell him he’s thinking about it all wrong. He’s overthinking. It’s not as bad as he thinks.

The fact that he can’t talk to you right now means it is that bad, but he it’s useless to wallow. His work shift at the bar located beneath the hardwood floorboards of your shared apartment ends early. He’s going in before opening to do some handyman work in the bathrooms, and the prep work for the evening crew. He takes the opportunity to not work until 3:00 a.m. whenever he can, especially when Marty offers to pay him cash under the table for his troubles. It also means he can go to the good grocery store, the one that isn’t the shitty 24 hour foodmart that’s the only open joint in the tri county area at 3:30 in the morning. The peanut butter is low, and he wants to grab a can of Maxwell House - a part of him thinks he insists on keeping it in the house just to get under your skin. No Kenya AA or Brazilian Peaberry for Eddie Munson.

So, he does his work and lets his mind leave him for the hours he snakes, caulks, screws, scrubs, chops, and peels. He works in the peaceful silence of the still slumbering college town bar, and walks out several hours later with a handful of cash and grease jammed under his fingernails. The echo of your voice saying his name, Eddie!, at the height of your pleasure the night before only made his feet stumble a few times. He can let it get quieter and quieter. He can let himself forget it. What he can’t do is let one night of stupid behavior ruin something the two of you have spent over a decade building. Pussy comes, and pussy goes - but you are forever.

Pussy comes and pussy goes. He thinks again to himself. He ignores what that small voice in his head adds, but what he wouldn’t give to be able to touch you and make you his.

—

You finally come home at 5:00. It’s much later than you should be going back to the apartment. You spent the interim hours wandering the streets of downtown looking for any “For Rent” signs displayed in apartment windows. You wasted time in the used book store, running your fingers along the spines of the Science Fiction paperbacks. You sat in the arm chair in the back of the shop and looked at the battered collection of Baby-Sitter’s Club books while your eyes grew heavy. And then you decided that the only thing left to do was face the music. Of all days for Eddie to not be closing down the bar.

Eddie’s in the shower. When you open the door to the apartment, you can hear the faint sound of water running from behind the closed bathroom door. A vision of wet curls and rivulets of water running down sharp shoulder blades invades your mind for a split second, but you will it away with a sharp shake of your head. You’re tired, and you think you might be able to get away with a long evening nap that can turn into a night spent alone in your bedroom without any complaints from Eddie. Maybe.

You spot the note as you’re hanging up your purse. It sits on the small kitchen table, red ink impossible for you to miss, in that scrawling chicken scratch that’s so familiar.

Not sure when you’ll be home, and if I’ll be around. I ran to the grocery store earlier. I got that wine you like and grabbed a couple of cannoli. You can have 2 of them. Just 2. I swear to god, if you eat my cannoli, I will hunt you down. There’s some de-icer on the counter, since you’re incapable of getting it yourself. I grabbed your library loans while I was out. We can grab some dinner tonight if you’re up for it.

-E

You stand holding the paper in your hand for a long time. You don’t know how long. You see the bottle of Malbec sitting on the far end of the counter next to a yellow spray bottle of de-icer. You don’t notice that the sound of the water coming from behind the bathroom door has stopped. You’re lost. Overwhelmed. You think about the time you spent furiously looking for an apartment. You think about how badly you wanted to run away - from what? From this? From Eddie? How could you ever want to run from him?

You’re still staring at his sloppily written words while you drift down the hallway. You don’t even hear the sound of the bathroom door open. When you glance up, you see Eddie. The man that bought you treats today. The man that has stepped between you and flying fists. The man that offered you a home when you didn’t have one.

In the 5 seconds you look at him, your eyes see more than should be possible. His wet curls cling to his shoulders, drops of water traveling from their tips down his chest. Black ink and splatterings of freckles and moles. The towel, too small - just like your own - sits low enough on his hips that your eyes can travel along his happy trail and into that meadow of abundant wiry hair peeking out. His feet, long and flat, stay planted in their spot. He waits for you to look away, but his eyes stay fixed to your face. His chest does not flush, he does not attempt to hide himself.

When your eyes finally flick to the wall, Eddie makes his way towards you. You’re frozen in your spot, but your mind is racing. He’s going to come to me. He’s going to let me touch him. You think about kissing his chest, letting your tongue catch the stray drops of water left behind by the showerhead. But Eddie moves beside you, he passes you by. You can smell Irish Spring and tap water. Your shaking hand reaches for the door handle.

“So, what do you think? Dinner?” Eddie’s standing at his door, a wide smile on his face. Your favorite smile. “Unless you’ve got a hot date or something?” He twists the knob, but doesn’t move to go into his room, waiting for your answer.

Nothing is the same, but everything is the same. From here on out, the only way this will work is utilizing double-thought. Letting two things be true at one time. Eddie is your best friend. Eddie is a man that your whole body aches for. These are two true things that matter, but one of those truths can only exist in the darkness of your bedroom. One of those things can only be acknowledged when you’re alone for fear of ruining the most important thing in your life.

“Sure, Ed. Chinese and cannoli. Roll a couple of joints.”

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine

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woodchuck019 · 10 months

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Crowley was Raphael?

WARNING: MAJOR GOOD OMENS 2 SPOILERS

Ok, so in the last few years we all enjoyed the headcanon that Crowley was the Archangel Raphal pre-Fall. To be completely honest, in season one this theory didn't make a lot of sense because we knew basically nothing about Crowley as an angel except for the fact that he helped create the stars and fell because he asked too many questions. So, even though it was a nice and interesting theory, I thought it would remain that, a theory.

Well, seems like this theory is basically confirmed now at the end of season 2. But let's start at the beginning.

First, we have to talk about the Hierarchy of Angels in Christianity. This Hierarchy was theorized by Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite in his book De Coelesti Hierarchia (On the Celestial Hierarchy). Dionysius described nine levels of spiritual beings which he grouped into 9 orders.

Highest orders:

Seraphim

Cherubim

Thrones

Middle orders:

Dominions

Virtues

Powers

Lowest orders:

Principalities

Archangels

Angels

Now, a lot of people asked Neil why the Archangels have so much power if they are so low in the Hierarchy and he said that he and Terry actually tought of archangels and Archangels as different beings.

So we have the arch-angels, in thre sense of being just above the lowest Choir of angels, and then we have the Arch-angels, in the sense of being above all angels.

Actually, the term archangel itself is not found in the Hebrew Bible or the Christian Old Testament, and in the Greek New Testament the term archangel is used referring to Michael, who is called 'one of the chief princes,' and 'the great prince'.

The idea of seven archangels is most explicitly stated in the apocryphal Book of Tobit when Raphael reveals himself, declaring: "I am Raphael, one of the seven angels who stand in the glorious presence of the Lord, ready to serve him."

In Judaism the Archangels are given the title of śārīm, meaning "princes", to show their superior rank and status, so they are also called "Princes of Heaven".

In season 2 episode 6, when Crowley is in Heaven trying to find any info on Gabriel, Muriel gives him the missing Archangel's file explaining that even if they wanted, they couldn't show it to him, since only angels above the rank of Dominions could access it. Immediately after, without putting in any effort, Crowley opens the file, saying that he was an angel once and they never bothered to change passwords. (I totally read a fic like this btw).

When the Archangel Saraquel meets them and recognises Crowley, she says that they worked together on the Horsehead Nebula. So Crowley must have been pretty high up in the ranks if he worked with an Archangel.

When they show us the scene of the trial, Gabriel is ready to be cast down to Hell, but the Metatron stops him and says:

"You are not going to hell. For one Prince of Heaven to be cast into the outer darkness makes a good story. For it to happen twice makes it look like there is some kind of institutional problem."

So we know that one of the Seven Archangels has Fallen, and it could be Lucifer, even though in the bible it is never stated that he was an archangel, but wouldn't they have said so if it were the case?

Also in episode 2, when Shax tells Crowley that Heaven and Hell think Aziraphale has something to do with Gabriel's disappearence, she says:

"A miracle of enormous power happened last night. The kind of miracle only the mightiest of Archangels could've performed".

Reminds you of something? Raphael, one of the mightiest of Archangels?

I really hope they will confirm the theory in season 3.

#go2 spoilers #good omens spoilers #good omens #crowley was raphael #antony j crowley #ineffable husbands #neil gaiman #good omens 2

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rendezvouz-fling · 1 year

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Astro Observations #18

• I’ve noticed Water suns especially Pisces are really good at playing the Villain’s role in movies/series! They’re the types of villains you’ll easily remember and love to hate! E.g. Martin Kove (who plays the ‘no-mercy’ Sensei Kreese from The Karate Kid trilogy and the Cobra Kai series), Thomas Griffith (who plays the jack-of-all-trades eccentric Terry Silver from the 3rd Karate Kid movie and the Cobra Kai series) and Jacob Bertrand (Eli Moskowitz a.k.a. ‘Hawk’ from the Cobra Kai series) are all Pisces suns. Also Sean Kanan (Mike Barnes from the 3rd Karate Kid movie) & Dallas Young (Kenny Payne from the Cobra Kai series) who are both Scorpio suns.

• The main characters in cheerleader movies like the Bring it on series are mainly Leo and Libra suns while the mean girls are mainly Water suns. E.g. Solange (Camille from Bring It On: All Or Nothing) is a Cancer sun and Rachele Smith (Avery from Bring It On: Fight To The Finish) is a Scorpio sun.

• Venusians tend to be very attractive!! They might be known for their good looks and subconsciously or not might just have good taste in fashion/aesthetics.

• They can also be known as good singers.

• Aquarius moons are the type of relatives that distance themselves from the family as they grow older or they just go M.I.A. on their relatives lol.

• Aries placements are the ultimate ride-or-die friends. Prove me wrong.✋🏽

• Water placements are really good at drawing/sketching!! My mom is a Scorpio sun/mercury and my dad was a Scorpio mars and they both draw REALLY good.😭 No wonder it passed down to me (Pisces sun/venus/uranus).💗

• Water risings have such a chill, affectionate nature it’s really cute!!😩💞

• Capricorn placements are so hot and attractive for what?😭

• Aries suns with Virgo moons and Aries mercuries are so feisty and cute!! They’re very driven, humble and get so excited when talking about their passions!! 🤎

• Aries sun-Taurus venus men are the types to be into sports and music! Some of them love 70s music and might be into James Brown!😂💞

• We all need a funny, blunt, energetic Sagittarius venus in our lives!

• Taurus sun-Gemini venus men culture is playing video games 24/7 and saying funny things to try to make their crush laugh.

• No because I can assure you a Fire mercury/mercury in a fire degree, will always add in their 2 cents even if you didn’t ask.🤣

• Some Cancer risings with Leo moons might feel fulfilled when those closest to them start telling them they’re starting to mature more and they’re proud of them.

• Virgo moons with Aries mars and Cancer risings WILL call you out on some petty shit. They don’t like to hold stuff in.

• Christian Leo suns 🤝 trying to justify their actions with “but in the Bible it says’ every time they get into a conflict yet they’re being hypocrites themselves.😭

• One thing Air placements will do is try to talk/sneak themselves out of situations.🌚 “They used to pull me over and ask me out on dates.” Said by La Toya Jackson (Gemini sun/mercury and Aquarius moon/mars)

• Aries mercuries can be so passive aggressive lmao.😭

• Capricorn mercuries can also be clowns with their logical humors!😭

• You better believe an Aries mercury/rising is going to raise their tones if they feel like your not getting their points.

• Virgo moons hate lying and hate liars.

• Parents with Water/Earth in their charts especially in their big 3 don’t like to hit their children.

• Sagittarius moons will listen to what you have to say then add onto them in a slight philosophical sense.

• Virgo suns with Libra mercuries and Leo mars love talking about people’s outfits and mocking other people.😭

• Fire mars parents are the types to embarrass their kids in front of other people by arguing with them/calling them out on the smallest things while Water mars parents are the types to embarrass their kids around their friends by being too bold and sometimes friendly sometimes mean lol.😭

• Water/Earth mix in the big 3 to love animals and nature! My mom’s a Scorpio sun/Cancer rising/Virgo moon and she’s obsessed with cats lmfao!🤣

• Capricorn/10H placements and their good/hard-working reputations are so attractive!

• Virgo placements are normally the health nuts and might complain about the back of their knee hurting this week and their stomachs hurting when they’re full the next. 😭

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liamlawsonlesbian · 2 months

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what book I would give each current formula one driver to introduce them to the joy of reading

an intellectual exercise no one* asked for

Max Verstappen: Guns, Germs, and Steel by Jared Diamond - if you are nd and have read this book, you may understand me. otherwise just trust me. the impetus for this post

Checo Perez: The Trumpet of the Swan by E.B. White - this is an excellent read-aloud book for Sergio Jr.'s age, and there is nothing as wonderful as reading a compelling book to a kid you love, imho

Charles Leclerc: The Golden Compass by Phillip Pullman - he is on the record as a Potter enjoyer. also, I think he would enjoy having a little animal friend

Carlos Sainz: Priestdaddy by Patricia Lockwood - okay yes this is partially a joke about the title, but this is a hilarious and wonderful memoir, about weird families and Catholicism, and I think Carlos would enjoy it.

Lando Norris: Guards! Guards! by Terry Pratchett - in my mind Lando is a little bit like @bright-and-burning but less cool, so this fits. also, the combination of high number of jokes/page + action/mystery seems like a good fit

Oscar Piastri: Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie - this book has the kind of mystery that really draws you in, plus I think Oscar would dig the questions about AI it digs into. I choose to believe with zero evidence that he would be interested in the funky gender stuff

Fernando Alonso: Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell - look me in the eye and tell me this book wasn't written for Fernando Alonso

Lance Stroll: Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card - yeah

Lewis Hamilton: Die Trying by Lee Child - Lewis deserves to read mildly trashy thrillers <3 plus there's a Tom Cruise movie

George Russell: Changing My Mind by Zadie Smith - as a proud Brit, George should be reading one of the premiere English authors of the 21st century. her first book of essays is a fun and readable place to start

Yuki Tsunoda: Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel - I don't have a Yuki-lore explanation, I just want to give him one of my favorite books

Daniel Ricciardo: The Gunslinger by Steven King - The Dark Tower series is Lord of the Rings-esque in scope but Western-inflected in aesthetic and written by The Horror Guy, I think DR would enjoy

Alex Albon: The Emperor of All Maladies: A Biography of Cancer by Siddhartha Mukherjee - I say this with so much love in my heart, but Alex wants to be seen as smart. this book is brilliantly written pop science

Logan Sargeant: Bloomability by Sharon Creech - yes this is a book for tween girls, but it's about boarding school in Switzerland, and Sharon Creech is a genius. if I could convince him to read it, I think he would love it

Valtteri Bottas: The Fellowship of the Ring by JRR Tolkien - what are hobbits if not humanoid moomins?

Zhou Guanyu: Piranesi by Susannah Clarke - a fun, exciting, stylishly written book for a stylish guy

Kevin Magnussen: Watership Down by Richard Adams - rabbit warfare <3

Nico Hulkenberg: A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles - Hulk SEEMS like a Dad Who Reads Historical Fiction, even if he isn't yet

Pierre Gasly: Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo - I almost said A Game of Thrones but I don't think that would be good for him. so, Six of Crows. he likes heists!

Esteban Ocon: City of Brass by S.A. Chakraborty - a superhero origin story of sorts for Mr. Spiderman

Bonus: Liam Lawson: Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir - lesbian from New Zealand. let me have this

*ro asked for it, take it up with them @oscarpiastriwdc

#put the body of this under the cut bc it's embarrassingly long #these books are all originally in english which i know would not be ideal for many of the drivers! but those are the books i know best #do not lose

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onyourstageleft · 1 month

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a love letter to my favorite YA lit:

I'm relistening to the Beka Cooper audio books again (a yearly tradition at this point) and every time I hear the opening line of Mastiff, "We buried Holborn today," it takes me back to opening the e-book on my Nook the day it was released in my freshman year of high school and reading that line while sitting on the bleachers waiting for PE to start. I remember flipping back to the previous page to make sure this was the first chapter, thinking I'd never even heard of Holborn. I opened the Bloodhound e-book to compare the dates of her entries and realized the time skip was nearly two years, and got so excited to see what happened to Beka while we weren't with her. We walked the track that overcast day of PE in 2011 and I barely looked up from my Nook, so engrossed was I in Beka's story

that was the first Tamora Pierce book release I waited on; I found her books in probably 2009 and had read most of them by the summer of 2011. I pre-ordered Mastiff so it would be on my Nook as soon as it came out, but I was a freshman in high school and wasn't supposed to stay up till midnight, so I had to wait until the day to read it. it was nearly 13 years (and half my life ago) but here I am, still re-reading and re-listening to the Tamora Pierce books that got me through being a teenager. I remember sitting in my high school's library rereading their copy of Wild Magic over my lunch break to pass the time; drunk crying on the floor of my friend's dorm at a character's death in Terrier my freshman year of college (even though I'd read it 3 or 4 times at that point I always forgot); waiting in the lobby of the technology building of my college campus for my class to start with Spy's Guide on my lap after its release; sitting in my advisor's office in grad school flipping through Mastiff and Page and Lioness Rampant for quotes to include in my thesis; rereading Briar's book at the height of the pandemic. I have a tattoo of Lighting on my arm and a (very rough and needs to be redone) tattoo of Pounce/Faithful on my calf and I genuinely don't think a day has gone by in over a decade where I haven't thought about Tamora Pierce books

the world of Tortall (and Emelan, to a lesser extent) has shaped me, and although this is an attempt to pin it down, I will never be able to explain how much these books mean to me. I know that I may love other series and worlds (I'm currently reading some Terry Pratchett, for example), but they will never make an impact on me in the same way that Tortall and all its various characters has, and that's fine by me

and yet, through all of it, I will never, ever be ready for The Thing We Don't Talk About in Mastiff, not now at a dozen rereads and not in another 13 years

#writing #literature #young adult literature #tamora pierce #tortall #emelan #beka cooper #The Thing kills me every time

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nothomegal · 8 months

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“The little owl family” (Part 3)

(RZ!Michael Myers x GNReader)

Summary: your and your little sister’s life had an 180° turn when your parents got into a severe car crash, dying on the spot. You, being already past 18 had to figure out how to keep things afloat and give yourself, specially your sister, a good future. And you did! It was hard but you did it and became the absolute hero in the little girl’s eyes. People would often involuntary smile at the dynamic of your two, so wholesome and supportive, the perfect family bond.Bond that a certain Boogeyman noticed as well…

Warnings: typical mentions of murder, Mikey being obsessive and violent.

Word Count: 4k. (Sorry for so much text- )

Additional info: Gender Neutral reader. (S/N) = sister’s name.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6)

Both siblings have returned home after making a visit to the plice station. (Y/N) was a bit moody but mostly relieved that the police finally listened. They already visited the station, the day after finding the dinosaur drawing, but of course everyone thought they were crazy for freaking out over a scrible, saying that maybe some teens saw them around the Myers house and decided to prank them. They had non of it yet couldn't do much, the only advice the cop gave them was to close the doors and keep the inside of the house private.

Now however, when the police heard (S/N)'s testimony that's when they took it more serious. Sure, the probability of it being some dumbass dressing up to be funny was there, yet it worth checking just in case, specially when knowing that the real Michael Myers kidnapped his sister. And who knows, maybe he'll do the same but with some random child...

—"(Y/N)..."—

(S/N)'s gentle voice shut all overwhelming thoughts inside (Y/N)'s mind. They slowly put the knife next to the cooking board and look at their sister.

—"What is it songbird? Still scared?"—

The girl fidgets with her fingers a bit while staring on the tiled kitchen floor. Eventually she sighs and her arms drop.

—"I'm sorry..."—

(Y/N) blinks a couple of times, confused with their sudden apology.

—"Sorry? For what?"— you ask, genuinely confused.

—"For starting all this mess... I think Terry is right, I'm just a scaredy cat that overreacted."— she says, her expression guilty.

Their eyes widened slightly, they walk over to their sister and kneel in front of her.

—"You did nothing wrong sweetheart, you actually did the right thing! The police is there to help, to protect us."— you say softly as you cup her cheek. —"And you better get ready because tomorrow I'll say Terry some not-so-nice things to that goblin so he leaves you alone."—

—"It's... It's not about Terry anymore, it's about you (Y/N)."— she lowers her gaze even more. —"I- I don't like how much you have to worry now, and it's all because of me! If-... If I just stayed quiet, if I didn't ask to see that dumb old house we would be okay and happy, and we would be able to celebrate Halloween!... I ruined it all I- "—

Before (S/N) could continue with her rant, her sibling wraps their arms around her form tightly, holding her close in silence for a few seconds.

—"I said you did nothing wrong. This situation could've happe to anyone, and we got the unluky number. I know you're worried about me and I admit that I may not be at my best state, but it will pass eventually and everything will be right again."— you lean back a bit, your gaze warm. —"We just need to hold on a bit, until the police catches that scary man. I'm sure it will be soon."—

(S/N), more calm, nods as she wipes the little tears that were threatning to slide down her cheeks.

—"Was that man Michael Myers?... Is he the Boogeyman?..."—

(Y/N)'s body goes stiff as they think what to answer. They haven't told their sister about the stranger's identity, not wanting to scare her even further but it seems like (S/N) started to figure out the whole situation by herself.

—"I-... I don't know."— you sigh, but she doesn't seem convinced. —"Myers is supposed to be in the asylum and- "—

—"He escaped... Did he?"— she glances at you.

After a little pause, their sibling nods, their expression a bit sad, even ashamed for trying to keep her oblivious. But the girl had no anger or resentment in her eyes, but a desire to know.

—"What did he do so everyone are so scared of him?..."—

—"I'm... I'm not sure you want to know that... Long story short; very scary and bad things."—

—"What things? Please tell me (Y/N)! I promise I won't get scared!"— she begs you in a childish tone.

(Y/N) remains quiet, thinking. Eventually they sigh and stand up.

—"You better take a sit, I'll go get you a poptart."— you simply say.

The girl gets a little spine chill, both excited and worried about what her sibling is about to tell her. Ones the girl took her sit on the dining table and was munching the sweet treat, (Y/N) starts speaking while resuming their cooking.

—"Last year, a few days before Halloween, all grown up Michael Myers escaped. He killed people while doing it, and not in a pretty way..."—

(S/N) freezes mid bite.

—"K-Killed?..."—

—"Yes... Killed. One of the victims was one of his caretakers, a sweet old man that was there since he was a kid..."—

(Y/N) could see how physically uncomfortable their sister got, even if the details of how he killed him weren't mentioned. They began to feel bad for the little girl and were ready to stop the 'story telling', but the girl proved to be tougher than expected.

—"And what happened after he escaped?..."—

—"He... He tracked his little sister, that is now a teen. He murdered her adoptive parents, a friend and then kiddnapped her, nearly killing her as well in the process. The sister survived though, and Michael Myers supposedly died when she shot him, but as we can see he didn't..."—

The little girl listens quietly, taking in the information and shrinking on her sit every second, the munched poptart still untouched in her shaky hands.

—"Is he... Is he coming to kills us?"— she finally asks.

There are a few seconds of silence, until (Y/N) breaks it, their tone loud, strict, cold... Yet burning with anger and determination.

—"I won't allow it."— and you meant it. —"If he dares to come, I will break every single limb of his. He's not touching you while I'm still breathing."—

Such tone took (S/N) off guard, she never saw her sibling be so cold and serious about anything.

—"But... But what if he hurts you?..."—

—"He won't. Mom and dad won't allow him."— you reply with a softer tone and then turn towards her. —"Even if they're not here, they still taking care of us. We'll be okay, songbird. I promise."— you smile.

The girl remains silent, observing their expression to see if they're just pretending, but (Y/N)'s look and words seemed genuine. She eventually smiles back with a toothy grin.

—"You're right! Bet the ghost of mom and dad are going to haunt him if he dares to come!"—

—"Oh they definetely will! Dad was scary but angry mom was even scarier!"—

And the dull atmosphere from before vanished in a blink of an eye, the siblings talking about random topic which would make them either laugh or argue. The tunes coming out from the speaker only made their afternoon even better, singing or even dancing, anything to keep the dark thoughts away.

But of course, they weren't enjoying it alone. The dark presence was outside, hiding in the shadows. Even though he couldn't see (Y/N) through the windows anymore, due to the curtains they strictly maintained closed, their tone alone was enough to make him feel the same adrenaline spike, his chest heavy with some sort of excitement. The way their cold voice managed to penetrate and shake every single bone and muscle inside of him was an indescribable feeling, yet so, so adicting. They knew who he is, the atrocities he commited and how much of a threat he is, yet they made it clear how many fucks they give about it, only worrying about the safety of the little one.

And now... Now that the atmosphere inside of the house changed, so did his mood. The way they both laughed, chanted, danced... Every single interaction between these two radiated with warmth, warmth strong enough to keep the crude outside world away from their little happy home.

From their little happy family...

Happy family...

He should be envious of them, he should be mad at them for having what he could never have, she should try to destroy it, to destroy the both of them so he stops feeling bad...!

But... He doesn't. He doesn't feel bad at all, none of these negative and destructive feelings are haunting him, not ones. It's the oposite, he actually feels warmth whenever he observes them, some alien coziness that unknowingly to him would make his body relax and gaze soft. He's not sure why he feels like this, but he can't deny the fact that if feels good... Peaceful, he feels at peace for ones in his wretched life.

He should be content with that, with what he has it should be enough, it should... But he knows that his mind will crave for more...

And it's only a matter of time before he loses control.

. . .

October 28th.

The last couple of days been pretty uneventful, the 'Boogeyman' wasn't mentioned anymore and didn't appear ones, even the owl family resumed their carefree lifestyle and were already teaching their babies to fly!

But unfortunately, tonight the siblings couldn't observe the birds due to a hard storm outside. Rain, wind, thunder, you named it all.

(S/N) was in (Y/N)'s room, she was quite scared of thunders so of course she would ask to sleep with their sibling who, unlike the young one, was probably having the best sleep of their life.

The bed was quite wide so they both fit without any issue, each one with their own blanket.

At some point though, a particulary loud thunder resonated, which made (S/N) cuddle closed to (Y/N). The mentioned sibling woke up due the loud sound but thought nothing of it, ready to close their eyes and go back to sleep.

But suddenly, an alarming feeling striked in their gut. Something felt wrong, is the air colder? Heavier? Is their heartbeat too loud? Is the house too silent? It's hard to tell what exactply isn't right, but they know something is.

They suddenly sit up, their eyes wide and staring at the door. The little girl felt the sudden movement and also sit up, though her form sleepy and confused.

—"Uh?... What's wrong?"— she mumbles before yawning.

—"...I don't know."— you reply, still staring at the door.

The girl blinks a couple of times and also looks at the door. They both remain in this position completely still, barely breathing, until a very faint thud resonated somewhere downstairs. Sure, the noise could mean whatever, but the sense of dread inside of (Y/N) only increased, demanding them to take actions.

—"{Songbird.}"— you whisper, your tone urgent. —"{I want you to tiptoe towards the closet and hide in there, do not come out until I say so.}"—

—"{B-But- }"—

She has no time to ask questions because (Y/N) had stand up and was already searching under their bed for something. They eventually find what they've been looking for, a hunting rifle.

They then look up and glance at their sister, who was completely frozen on the bed with a horrified expression.

—"{Just go hide, please. And if things get ugly...}"— you pause, glancing at the door briefly. —"{Then run away, run towards our next house neighbors and ask them to call the police, okay?"}—

—"{But (Y/N)!... Y-You-...}"—

They nudge her side gently, silently telling her to stop talking and hide. With a huge effort the girl manages to make her body move again and as quietly as she could she made her way towards the closet, hiding her form inside and gently closing the door.

(Y/N) remained in place, near the bed with the rifle already pointing at the door. For solid five minutes absolutely nothing happened, the wind kept howling, the rain pouring and the thunders striking, but nothing else, there were no more odd sounds inside the hou-

Footsteps, the unmistakable sound of footsteps resonated from the stairs. Whoever was walking was doing it slowly, casually even, as if they owned the place. (Y/N) kept their posture, pre aiming at the door and simply waiting, if the intruder is bold enough to enter into their room they'll shoot without thinking twice. Sure, the idea of killing another human is scary and definetely puts their mind even more on edge, but it's either their and (S/N)'s or the intruder's life.

The footsteps eventually stop right in front of the door. There are another good few minutes of silence but it's suddenly interrupted by a loud and bright thunder, which illuminated the whole room and the hall. And right there, through the door crack, they saw an unmistakable shadow of a human.

With no time to waste and with enough evidence that there is an intruder, (Y/N) pulls the trigger.

BANG!

A faint line of smoke is coming out the rifle, but there was no thud or screams of pain at the other side of the door, nothing.

They remain in position for a while but after not hearing anything, or seeing through the tiny hole they just made, (Y/N) slowly lowers the gun, questioning if there even was someone or it's actually their unhealthy paranoia getting the best of them.

They got their answer when the door practically flew off it's hanles and a giant dark mass charged at them. They try to aim and shoot again but the intruder is way faster and manages to grab the end of the rifle and tilt it up the moment (Y/N) pulls the trigger again, making them shoot at the ceiling.

They both struggle, (Y/N) desperately trying to get the gun free but the intruder is way too strong, he's also big, which makes it nearly impossible to push away.

Realizing that things are actually about to get ugly, they shout.

—"(S/N)! RUN!"—

The closet door swings open and the little girl sprints out the room, quietly crying and extremely scared. The massive stranger stopped for a brief moment when he heard the girl, it was just a moment of stillness that ended up with him practically ripping off the rifle out of (Y/N)'s grasp and throwing it agains the wall with great force.

The next thing they know is that the intruder managed to get to their neck. Ones has a firm hold of it, he stands up to his full height and slams their body against the wall, knocking out any oxygen left in their lungs. It didn't stop (Y/N) from struggling though, doing their best to land a kick on his stomack or the lower (and more painful) parts, yet their attempts were cut short when the stranger began to squeeze their neck with both hands, making their struggles weaker.

Eventually, the lack of oxygen began to affect (Y/N) and their arms drop and their body goes numb. Only when they nearly fainted, is when the stranger lose his grip, not enough to let go but enough to let them breathe as they're kept in place.

Durning this little moment of calm another thunder striked and illuminated the room, allowing them to see the emotionless face of the stranger, staring right into their sould.

—"{Myers...}"— you mouth breathlessly.

A sudden little thud followed by a rubber squeak got their attention. (Y/N)'s eyes wide and fill with terror when they see (S/N) standing in the doorway with a little pile of toys in one arm.

—"Leave them alone! You ugly monster!"—

She exclaims as she throws another toy into Michael's broad back, the toy making little to no harm. The man merely glances over his shoulder, his gaze now focused on her little frame.

—"You're mad at us because we visited your home, are you?! (Y/N) did absolutelly nothing wrong, we went there because of me! I am the guilty one! You should've punish me instead!"—

She exclaims again, tears sliding down her cheeks like rivers yet she didn't care. The girl stood high and threw another toy.

—"Or you want to take them away?! I know you have a little sister too, I- "— she hiccups a bit. —"I can be your new little sister! Please take me! Punish me! B-But please! Please leave (Y/N) alone!"—

The girl ends up desperately sobbing, both scared of the man in front of her and the fact that her sibling may disappear forever. Michael slowly turns towards her as he lets go of (Y/N), their body falling into the floor as they gasp for air.

The man starts to slowly and menacingly walk towards (S/N). The girl suddenly realized the mess she just got herself into as she starts to back away, throwing the rest of her toys at the man in a desperate attempt to slow him down, but all they did is bounce off his body into the floor.

—"W-Wait! Ne-Never mind! I- I ch-changed my mind! I don't want t-to go anywhere!"— she lets out a squeak when her back hit the wall in the hall.

The massive man gets even closer, his shadow making the already dark house even darker, darkness that threatens to engulf anything and never let go. The girl lets out a terrified cry as she shields herself with her hands.

—"(Y/N)!"—

The desperate cry of their name made them regain their conscience quickly, they see Michael Myers being just two feets away from their sister, blocking any escape with his broad figure as he extends his hand towards the little girl. Oh god he's about to strangle her just like he attempted with them!

(S/N) is in danger.

They must save her.

No matter what.

But what both siblings failed to see, was the way Michael moved his arm towards the little girl. His movements where slow and smooth, no aggression reflected in them.

When he was about to brush his finger agains (S/N)'s arm, a spartan-like war cry resonated behind him and something cold was wrapped around his neck. (Y/N) tugs the thick wire back rougly, causing the behemoth to stumble backwards, leaving enough room for (S/N) to escape.

—"RUN GODDAMNIT!"— you yell.

And this time (S/N) listens, sprinting through the stairs as fast as her body allows, leaving the house and not return.

The struggle between Michael and (Y/N) continued, they held tightly into the wire, trying to squeaze it even more while Michael attempted to get them off his back. The man eventually gets the solution and slams his body, back first, agains the wall, but (Y/N) doesn't give up. He repeats this maneuver a couple of times until their grip is lose enough to peel them off him and throw them into the floor.

The fall didn't go well, (Y/N) ended up going face first into the floor, but whatever pain they felt is quickly overshadowed by the adrenaline rushing through their veins. They know they won't be able to kill this monster, they know they're going to die, they know they have no chance, they know... But they refuse to go down so easily.

Durning the struggle, it seems like the man dropped his weapon, which (Y/N) had already grabbed as they stand up again. They hold the knife tightly as they stare into the man’s eyes, blood was leaking through their nose down their chin like a river. And despite this, despite all of these disadvantages, they stand hight and ready to keep fighting.

The killer must think they’re insane for even daring to get back to their feet, that they’re delusional for attempting to fight back… But (Y/N) does not care, not when their most loved one is in danger.

Michael remains completely still, looking at (Y/N)’s form. The moment their eyes made contact again, the same spine chill jolted through his body. The feeling was electrifying, so adictive, it began to intoxicate his mind, his eyes half lidded and breath heavy. He shouldn't be like this, (Y/N)'s eyes should not cause his body to react like that, but he can't help it...

Their eyes... There was no fear on them, only cold rage, a burning determination to protect and fight back. This gaze could be compared to the one of a wild wolf protecting an injured member of their pack.

The sacrifice they were ready to make in order to protect their sister caused Michael to feel a bit of respect towards them... Maybe even admiration, no, obsession. He was obsessed with their eyes, with their voice, with them... He was obsessed with (Y/N).

They both remains still, but eventually, and to their misfortune, Michael makes a move. He charges at them but (Y/N) seemed to learn from their previous mistake as they step aside and make a clear slash on his shoulder, causing the man release a low groan.

They attempt to stab him on the neck but Michael quickly grabs their wrist mid attack and tightly squeezes it, to the point that he felt something pop inside and right after that the knife was released from their grasp. But (Y/N) still refused to give up, this time they attepts to land a hit on his face or grab his mask, attempt that was cut short when Michael pushed them into the floor and practically tackled them.

(Y/N) glares daggers at him, their gaze hateful.

—"Don't you get it you sick fuck?!"— you exclaim, voice full of anger.

Michael only tilts his head, action that only pisses (Y/N) off.

—"I am not stopping, I won't stop fighting, not when my sister is in danger! Not while I'm still breathing!"—

And after these words they start struggling under Michael's large body, as the man himself got entranced with them again. Their bloodied visage looked so beautiful to him for some reason, their eyes filled with hate, not only towards him, but towards everything in the world made his breath shake. If it was any other victim he would be frustrated with such behavior... But not with (Y/N), never with them.

At some point, their struggles began to morph into quiet sobs, desperate and disappointed. They were disappointed with themselves, their helplessness and their inability to protect (S/N), not from this monster. They failed her...

They look away and bite their lip, holding their cries as best as possible, not wanting this beast to see them cry, to give him the joy watching them slowly break. This new picture of (Y/N) caused something inside of Michael's chest squeeze painfully, this new broken and vulnerable (Y/N) was very different from the previous one. It may not cause him the same thrill, but in ignites a new emotion, something he though he lost very, very long ago...

Protectiveness.

The same one he felt when he saw Angel cry, when she cowered away from him before he tried to reveal himself... And even after she tried to escape, he still felt protective of her in his own way... And now he feels it towards (Y/N).

Michael's head then straightens as he began to lean down, closer to them. (Y/N) tries to use their last bits of strength to push him away, slow him down, anything to keep him away from killing them in that same instant. When they feel his large arms wrap around their form, they shut their eyes tightly, expecting to feel pain at any second as he breaks their body limb by limb... But that doesn't happen.

They keep their eyes closed for a solid minute, and when still nothing happen, they open them just to be greeted by Michael's large form holding them in a tight embrace. His body warm despite his clothes being wet, the heat slightly soothing any pain in (Y/N)'s body, but not their mind. Being this close they can feel how powerful and strong Michael's body is, even embraced they can barely move, he could easily break their spine at any moment with enough force if he wanted to...

But (Y/N) had no time to question it or had any strength to push him since the adrenaline started to worn off and their vision and senses to slowly black out.

They're not sure how long Michael held them, but eventually he let go and stood up as the plice sirens got closer. He throws one last glance at (Y/N)'s nearly unconscious form before grabbing his knife and walking away.

But, it wasn't the last time they will see him...

Because the monster inside of him will force him to return…

#nothomegal fic #michael myers #rz michael myers #rz michael myers x reader #michael myers x reader #gn reader #halloween #slasher x reader

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melbatron5000 · 6 days

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More crap about story rules

I dunno if this is helpful, but I read somewhere that Tumblr is just talking to yourself until someone goes, "Oh, I like this," so here goes. It helps me to get this sort of stuff out and be able to reference back to it.

I'm a novelist. I write speculative fiction, primarily urban fantasy with a dollop of mythopoeia (wanting to lean more towards the mythopoeia, but anyway). Neil is definitely a role model of mine, and has been since I was 19. Terry came a little later for me, in my mid-twenties. I'd read Good Omens by then, but believed Neil had a heavier hand in it than Terry did (Ha!). Once I finally picked up some Discworld, I was hooked for life.

I also recently learned I have ADHD, so not only is traditional institutional academia not my thing, I also have trouble sussing out meaning and details from things unless I have specific instructions on where to look. Once I have that in hand, I often go on a tear and find things that I never imagined were there, and frequently surprise not only myself but others. But I absolutely have to have that first step laid out for me in order to make more of my own.

When I first started writing in the 80s (yes, I'm old), I started looking around for the elusive "story structure" I'd heard about vaguely from other writers. I really couldn't find anything written down about what constitutes the steps of a story, the journey a hero must take for a story to be told start to finish. The other writers I'd heard discuss it didn't have concrete ideas for me (lots of hand-waving and "oh, you know"s), so I figured I'd find it in a book somewhere.

I found a little something about structure from Greek philosophy, but that mainly boiled down to stories needing a "beginning, middle, and end," like, duh, and not a lot about what made those three parts up. As a very basic story-telling model, it is incredibly concrete and important, but it's something we've known for thousands of years by now so it doesn't exactly light up the night sky with insight anymore. It's become such common knowledge that it almost doesn't seem like knowledge. I found more from Joseph Campbell, but a lot of what I found written by him was very airy and sort of dream-like, and hard to follow. So I gave up and muddled along the best I could.

About ten years ago now, I decided to try again, and found a whole ton of stuff written about story structure, from Greek philosophy decoded to Shakespear's five-act structure to The Hero's Journey first talked about by Joseph Campbell to modern Hollywood 3-act structure. Around about 2010 there was an explosion of work done on story structure, and damn if it wasn't eye-opening.

My favorite book so far on structure is The Story Grid by Shawn Coyle, because he has broken down all the various types of structure into very concrete, easy-to-comprehend steps that make sense. He talks about exactly where there is wiggle room, exactly where there is not, the general shape of a story in comparison to the general shape of the five stages of grief, what precisely constitutes a scene and what the sequence of scenes has to be to tell a whole, complete story. (In case you're interested, my next favorite book on structure is Save the Cat! Writes a Novel. It fills in a few holes that The Story Grid misses, and together they make a beautifully complete map of how to tell a good story.)

My favorite, in particular, are the Five Commandments of Storytelling. Each scene, each act (however many you want, I like 4), and the story as a whole, all have to follow the Five Commandments. These are elements that have to be present for a scene to work, and for a story to reach its beginning, middle, and end satisfactorily.

Inciting incident. This is something that happens that forces the main character to change course, take action. It has to be either an Act of God, or another character acting on the main character.

Progressive complications. The main character forms a plan to put life back in order and tries it, but is blocked. They have to regroup and form a new plan. Threes in storytelling are always good, but the main character must be blocked until they reach the Turning Point Complication, where they realize that in order to move forward and have a hope of getting where they want, they must make a hard choice. Often the hard choice is that they must do The One Thing They Didn't Want to Do, though the introduction of new information will drive this decision as well. New information can come from another character, or be realized by the main character as a result of the action.

Crisis. They reach the decision point, where they must choose one thing over another. The decision must be between two irreconcilable good things, where they can't have both; or the lesser of two evils, where they can't escape both. The Crisis can also be boiled down to a "what will they do?" question. They're going to have to pick, but they're going to resist before they choose, and that creates tension which keeps the reader invested.

Climax. They make their choice. It's really that simple. They pick.

Resolution. The consequences of their choice are laid out. In a scene, this means the inciting incident of the next scene is introduced because of the character's choice; in an overall story, this leads to the end of the tale where our hero emerges, having learned whatever it was that the author deemed they needed to learn.

For example, Aziraphale is listening to music when a knock comes at the door. (Inciting incident) He forms and enacts a plan -- answer the door, probably hoping to get rid of whoever it is quickly. It's Gabriel. (Complication) He forms and enacts a new plan -- find out what Gabriel is doing here. Gabriel says he doesn't know. (Complication) Gabriel asks to come in. (Complication) Aziraphale forms and enacts a new plan -- tell Gabriel no. Gabriel says oh-kay and turns to the people on the street. (Turning point complication) Now Aziraphale has two bad choices -- bring Gabriel inside, or leave him to wander naked around Whickber street doing God only knows what. (Crisis) He chooses what he thinks is the lesser of two evils -- he tells Gabriel to get in. (Climax) Now Gabriel, possibly Aziraphale's worst enemy, is inside his home, the book shop. (Resolution) And because this is a scene, this Resolution is also the inciting incident of the next scene.

This can go different routes, as when the inciting incident rouses curiosity or creates a promise of something the character wants, instead of inflicting discomfort -- although if a character wants something bad enough, deciding to say no to pursuing it could inflict discomfort, so that counts, too. The inciting incident just means that something happens so that the main character can no longer keep living life as it was. Something has to change, and they have to change it. In the end, it all boils down to something outside the main character knocking them off course, them deciding how to try to get back on course and failing, and what happens as a result. (Beginning, middle, end!)

A good way to create a mystery is to hide the Inciting Incident from the readers/viewers. Or at least, the Inciting Incidents of certain character and scenes. In the above example, we see Aziraphale's Inciting Incident, but we don't see Gabriel's until episode six.

I believe we haven't seen the Inciting Incident of Crowley and Aziraphale's storyline for season 2. It seems like Gabriel showing up is the Inciting Incident for the entire season, but I believe his arrival is a Complication, not the Inciting Incident. As far as what the original Inciting Incident was, well, first and foremost, the Resolution of season 1 would naturally lead into the Inciting Incident of season 2, just as a scene would do for the scene following it. So there's one Clue. As for the answer -- we just have to keep looking where the furniture isn't.

I hope this story breakdown was interesting to someone. I find it completely fascinating, but I am a story nerd, so maybe what I like and find interesting isn't up everyone's alley.

Cheers!

#good omens #good omens 2 #story structure #scene breakdown #the five commandments of storytelling #the story grid #story nerd #looking where the furniture isn't

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iris-writesx · 10 months

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Little Fucker | Gallavich

ian and mickey wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of an intruder in their kitchen, but it not what it seems — idk what this is but hey my first full gallavich fic, whoop whoop. honestly this is just a rambled mess of fluff. i’m still trying to get my characterisation for these boys down, so feedback would be greatly appreciated :)

2k words — mention of past trauma, though this is all fluffy and domestic. mickey and ian are married

fic requests are open for gallavich, please send any and all into my asks. reblogs and feedback would also make me super happy <3

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Mickey had always been a light sleeper. Just the feeling of Ian’s weight leaving the mattress in the morning was enough to stir him from his sleep, blinking groggily up at his husband as he got ready for the day. He supposed it was due to his upbringing, being awoken by Terry yelling or things being thrown at him throughout his childhood. He distinctly remembers one night when he was ten being woken by the shattering of glass, and later realised that the bottle Terry had thrown in his drunk stupor had missed and smashed the window instead. That whole winter he had slept with two jumpers on to stop the winter air blowing into his room from freezing him to death.

So he was a light sleeper. Which is why the crash that came from their kitchen was enough to force Mickey out of his sleep, his eyes wide as he immediately rose up into a sitting position. He sat frozen, listening for anything else, before another crash followed, something smashing against their tiled kitchen floor.

Ian was blissfully asleep beside him, and it took Mickey four shoves against his husband’s arm before he even began to stir.

“What?” He groaned, not even turning to look at him, eyes still closed.

“Get up.”

“Fuck off,” Ian grumbled, rolling over to face away from Mickey, and huffing out of his nose he grabbed onto Ian’s forearm and shook it a bit roughly until he had annoyed him enough to roll back over to face him. “Holy fuck, what do you want?”

Mickey glared down at his husband, offended by the immediate annoyance… as if he wouldn’t act the same if awoken in the middle of the night. “Someone’s in the fuckin’ kitchen, asshole.”

That definitely got Ian’s attention. Mickey observed as his eyebrows immediately scrunched, lips turning downwards as he also sat up, eyes shifting past Mickey to stare at their closed bedroom door, as if he could see through it.

Ever since Mickey had been sleeping in the same bed as Ian — since he finally started accepting just how much he needed Ian, since the nights where he was supposed to be on Ian’s bedroom floor were spent up against him in his bed — he had always put himself between Ian and the door. Maybe it was the assumption that there would always be danger, like he was living at home and there was always a chance of Terry barrelling through the door to hit him. But Mickey knew that he’d always want Ian further into the room than himself. Realistically, he knew that probably nothing was ever going to happen — a little ironic after he had been woken up by the sound of an intruder in their kitchen — but just in case, he would always put himself into the line of danger first.

Ian was still staring at the door. His hand had unconsciously reached out to grip onto Mickey’s leg, a light squeeze against the plush of his thigh. “I can’t hear anything, Mick.”

“You think I’m fuckin’ making it up?”

Ian turned to scowl at him. “That’s not what I said. I’m j’st saying that it doesn’t sound like anybody’s there.”

“I know what I heard, asshole-“

Another smash came from the kitchen, and instead of jumping like Ian did, Mickey couldn’t help the smug smile that formed over his mouth. “Told you, bitch.”

Ian rolled his eyes but didn’t respond, instead he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and leaned down, grabbing a shirt from the floor and quickly throwing it on. Mickey, who cared much less about looking decent in front of a fucking burglar, instead leaned down to grab the gun that he kept tucked under his side of the bed just in case. He rounded the bed and forcefully shoved Ian beside him, reaching out with his free hand to open the doorknob. “Stay behind me.”

Ian didn’t argue, so he pulled open the door and stepped out into the hallway, his gun raised out in front of him. Within all of the domestic bliss that he and Ian had been living in for some time now, it had actually been a while since he’d held a gun — the last time was probably when he had put it under his side of the bed. The weight of it felt heavy in his hand, the metal cold against his skin — he never thought that he would be in a place where the feeling of a gun in his hand was weird to him.

With Ian still behind him they got to the kitchen, and whilst there was no intruder to be seen, there was glass and porcelain smashed all over their floor. He glanced up at the counter and noticed that there were still a few plates and a glass that had been left to clean up in the morning, and he was guessing that the ones now in pieces on the floor came from that stack of washing up.

“Aw man,” Mickey grumbled, nudging a larger piece of black porcelain with his toe. “My favourite fuckin’ mug.”

“Mick look-”

“Yeah I know, man, I can see it.”

“No,” Ian huffed, and poked one of his shoulder blades. “On the table.”

Mickey turned his head, and just blinked when he saw the little orange cat sat on their kitchen table, staring back at them with its huge bug eyes. It reminded him of one of the little street cats from back home that Mandy used to insist on feeding when she was just a kid. “What the fuck is that thing doing in here?”

“Must’ve come in through the window,” Ian nudged him again, and Mickey glanced up at the open window above the counter. “Poor guy must’ve knocked all the glasses over on his way in.”

“Poor guy? It broke our shit.”

“Yeah well I told you to close the windows at night.”

Mickey turned to shoot Ian a glare, as if to say it wasn’t his fault that the little fucker got into their home, but Ian slipped past him and sidestepped all of the glass over towards the table, where he reached down to scratch said little fucker on the top of its head.

“I’ll clean up then, yeah?” He huffed, putting the gun in the waistband of his boxers for now as he carefully dodged any glass on the floor to grab the broom they kept stood by the fridge, and started to sweep all of the shards into a pile. When he glanced up at Ian he was still fussing over the cat, and he just rolled his eyes with a shake of his head. “Aye, some fuckin’ help would be nice.”

“He hasn’t got a collar,” Ian had that dumb puppy dog pout on his lips as he turned back to his husband, and in one motion he scooped the cat up into his arms, cradling the thing against his chest. “And he’s really small. I think he’s a stray, Mick.”

“Oh yeah? Too bad, it broke my mug, piece of shit.”

Ian glared, dipping his head down to kiss the cat on its peanut head. “We should let him stay for the night.”

“Why should we do that?” Mickey rolled his eyes, leaning the broom against the counter once he had all of the shards in a pile, and instead grabbed the dustpan to collect it all to toss into the bin.

“‘Cause it’s cold out.”

“Thing’s got fur, ain’t it?” Ian was still glaring when he looked back up and he just groaned, wiping a hand over his face as he let the now empty dustpan clatter down against their counter. “Christ, you really wanna keep it here for the night?”

Ian raised his eyebrows. “Not just for the night-“

“Ain’t fuckin’ happening, Gallagher.”

Ian sighed, putting the cat down on the table gently before he moved over to him, that fucking stupid pout back on his face as he took Mickey’s shoulders in his hands with a light squeeze. “He’s just a small thing, Mick, he won’t be any trouble.”

“It’s been here for five fuckin’ seconds and smashed half of our cups.”

Ian squeezed his shoulders a little firmer, tilting his head at him. “Please?” His hands left his shoulders and went down to his hips, tugging him close enough for them to be pretty much flush against each other, before his lips quirked upwards playfully. “Is that a gun in your pocket or are you happy to see me, Mister Gallagher?”

He groaned, because his husband was so fucking lame sometimes, but looped his arms over his shoulders regardless. Mickey would never be able to resist giving Ian what he wanted to make him happy and Ian fucking knew that, but it didn’t stop him from giving his husband the worst scowl he could muster as Ian squeezed his hips again.

Fucker.

“One night, man,” Mickey told him, his façade dissipating a little as Ian gave him a little kiss, just a light press of their lips. “I’m fuckin’ serious, tomorrow night that scraggly fuck is going back to the streets, ‘kay?”

Mickey knew that the cat wouldn’t be going anywhere, Ian knew that the cat wouldn’t be going anywhere, which is probably why he had that dumb smile of his on his face as he leaned in to kiss Mickey again, for longer that time, making him all melty and fucking weak like Ian usually got him.

His sixteen year old self would be in fucking disbelief if he saw him now. Mickey often thought back on that time. The denial, the self loathing, his destructive behaviour towards both himself and Ian. It wasn’t all that long ago that Mickey had apologised for one particularly nasty thing he could remember calling Ian.

They had just gotten into bed for the night, the room dark, Ian’s hand on his thigh drawing invisible little shapes on the skin there.

Mickey had been mulling over that memory for a while in his head, a scrunched up disgusted expression on his face as he recalled calling Ian nothing but a warm mouth. It had left a vile taste on his tongue to even say it the first time, but to think back on it made his chest burn with hatred for his younger self. Ian had deserved more than him back then. Mickey was only worthy of him now that he had changed for him.

“M’sorry for all the shit I called you,” Mickey watched as Ian turned to face him, clearly confused. “Back then, man, all the shit I said,” he was slowly getting better at apologies, so he paused for a moment as Ian nodded a little, an understanding smile on his face. “You were always more than that, you know. Always meant something more to me, Gallagher.”

Which is why Mickey wouldn’t be kicking that fucking cat out, as much as the thought of having a cat around the place wasn’t that pleasing.

Ian was still smiling like he didn’t believe him, and squeezed his hips again as he pecked his lips one last time. “‘Kay.”

Mickey cleared his throat as Ian finally stepped backwards, his skin feeling a little hot, because there was a gun tucked into the waistband of his boxers, yes, but part of him was now definitely excited to see his husband.

Like he could fucking help it when Ian pulled that shit.

“Can we go back to bed now?” Mickey groaned, and even though both of them knew they wouldn’t be going back to sleep yet, Ian gave a huge smile as he nodded, hooking an arm around his husband’s shoulders as he started to walk them back to the bedroom. “And the cat’s not comin’ into our room, no fuckin’ way.”

Ian just laughed, patting his shoulder. “Sure, Mick.”

As expected, Mickey got up to let the cat into their room a little past three o’clock in the morning, and when he woke up it was asleep on his chest.

Little fucker.

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