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loukja · 4 years

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The Princess and the Guard - Living on a Prayer

Vexx surveyed the small club as they entered. It was pretty empty, as to be expected so early in the evening. His gaze travelled to the princess beside him, who was taking the scene in, wonder in her eyes.

“Happy?” he asked.

The smile she cast his way was a little bit smug. “Very.”

Taking her arm, he led her over to one of the booths along the back wall and asked himself when the slight shift in their power dynamic had occurred. Because when she had first asked him to take her out for a drink he had declined. While she was getting bolder, wanting to explore more, live more, she was still super sheltered. Pleading with him to take her, she had even admitted that she had never had alcohol before. And while he was already risking his neck sneaking around with her at all, getting her intoxicated felt like a one-way ticket to getting caught. Yet here they were, and he was still trying to figure out why he had let her sway him.

Aurora slid into the booth and started scrolling through the menu. “What do you suggest?” she asked. “I want something fancy.”

“Of course you do,” he reached across the table and flicked his finger against her nose, gaining a glare for the trouble. She did look fancy herself, her curls gathered back in a high ponytail that she had adorned with an actual bowtie. Like a girl from one of the old movies she enjoyed, cute but clearly not on par with the current fashion of the gold district.

“Come on, who knows when I’ll get the chance for something like this again? I need to make it count,” she flicked to the next section of drinks, reading with a slightly furrowed brow. Her words gave him a twinge of regret. Don’t think of it, he told himself, when maybe he should have told himself to think of the reasons that had gotten him into this whole mess in the first place. Justice. Freedom. Hope for a better world.

He reached across the table, scrolling through the menu until he got to the coladas. “One of those would probably be the right thing for you.”

When their order arrived Aurora delightedly picked the little umbrella out of her strawberry colada, twirling it between her fingers. “Look at this, this is so cute!”

“Yes, super cute garbage.”

“At least my drink doesn’t look bland like yours,” she took a little sip of the colada.

“My drink is for grown-ups, little lady.”

“My drink is good,” she announced, then reached for his. “Let me try yours?”

He pushed over his Jack and Coke, watching her closely as she took the straw in her mouth, and then as her nose crinkled in disgust.

“Ew. Are you sure you can still function after finishing that? Huh,” she fanned her face with her hands, her eyes watering, and he couldn’t help but laugh. Good thing he had told the waiter to make sure there was a bit less rum in her drink than they normally put in.

“You are such a lightweight, princess. I should have been a responsible adult and gotten you a juice. Yes, I am sure that I’ll function just fine,” he accompanied that with a wink, making her blush furiously.

She went back to sipping her cocktail, and then she got a far-off look, and when he started to ask her what was wrong, she raised a finger to silence him. His gaze shifted to the booth behind her and the group that had sat down there. It was a bit hard to make out what they were talking about with the music, so he leaned across the table, keeping an eye on Aurora’s expression as he listened.

“I mean, how many bad calls can a person possibly make? It’s time he fucking dies!”

Her eyebrows shot up.

“Who knows? As lucky as we are, he’ll reign for another couple decades before he finally bites it.”

“Probably. But do you guys really think his daughter will be better? She’s probably just as shitty as he is.”

Vexx reached out, his hand sneaking around the back of Aurora’s neck, pulling her forward until his lips almost grazed her ear and some lose curls tickled his nose. “You don’t have to listen to this, we can go sit somewhere else.”

“No, I… I want to hear it,” she murmured, and for a moment he was awfully tempted to press his lips to hers, distract her, shield her from the world and the ugly truths she hadn’t ever been confronted with. Kiss her until she forgot everything but his name.

Instead he slowly leaned back again, taking a gulp of his drink. Aurora listened to the group drone on about the economy, rising taxes, the dumpster fires that the other planets had become, until they finally switched topics and started speculating if their friend Sharice had STDs or not.

His princess pushed around the remaining ice cubes in her empty glass, a troubled look on her face. “I sometimes forget how much there is to fix,” she admitted.

He shrugged, torn between the need to comfort her and launching into a tirade about how monarchy would fix jack shit.

“And I mean they,” she vaguely gestured towards them, leaning towards him and lowering her voice, “are rich, right? If even they are this discontent…”

“Whiny rich kids,” he agreed. “They think the world ought to be handed to them, but it’s only handed to one certain family and that pisses them off.”

She sighed, bit her lip and tilted her empty glass. “Can I have another?”

“Sure,” he heard himself say, already sensing that it was a mistake.

He was proven right when she tried to drag him onto the dance floor half an hour later. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“You’re drunk,” he remarked, taking in her rosy cheeks, “everything will be fun for you right now.” He wished he had drunken more himself. The whole excurse to politics had reminded him that he was losing focus around her way too often and that in turn had soured his mood. It made him wonder if he really was the right person for this job, because someone like Damon wouldn’t have been side-tracked like this.

Another girl bumped into Aurora, steadied herself holding on to her arm, and then took her in with a slow drag of her eyes. “Your dress is so pretty,” she exclaimed, and Vexx rolled his eyes.

“Aw, thank you,” the princess smoothed the short circle skirt down, “you look super pretty, too.”

The girl laughed and cast a quick glance at him, measuring him up. He narrowed his eyes at her. Back off, he thought.

“My song,” the girl shrieked, grabbed Aurora’s hand, and pulled her into the dancing crowd before he could protest.

Vexx sighed. He lingered at the edge of the dancefloor and kept his eyes on his princess as she laughed and danced with the girl and her friends, looking so happy and free that he did not want to stop her.

When the first girl got a bit too close to Aurora he tensed up, but then his princess shook her head and said something, nodding her head in his direction. The girl replied something that made her blush and cast a glance his way. A grin spread across his face as the girl backed up a little. That’s right, princess. Tell them you are my girl.

He probably should have intervened when one of the girls shared her drink with Aurora. At the point they started dancing on one of the tables he definitely should have intervened, but instead he just got closer, just in case.

Aurora looked like a disco queen up on the table, dancing and singing to the song along with her newfound friends, radiating so much energy. And she was clearly drunk at this point, after just two cocktails and a few sips of beer. She spun, little of the gracefulness from her dance classes showing through. And then she stumbled, tilted. He jumped forward, reaching out. Her body crashed against his, her forehead hitting his chin hard, and he stumbled a few steps backwards before steadying them. For a moment he was worried that she was hurt, but then she laughed, her hands roaming over his shoulders as she righted herself. He still held her close, brushing her hair back from her face.

“Sorry,” she slurred, trailing her fingers over his chin.

“It’s fine,” he found himself grinning back at her. Her friends were still sing-shouting along to the music.

“We’ve gotta hold on, to what we’ve got,” she sang along, a bit off key, framing his face with her hands. Her gaze flickered from his eyes to his lips, and then she got up on her tiptoes and kissed him, while his chin was still throbbing from her former impact. It was a short kiss, her lips pressed to his and then already gone again, but it was enough to make his breath hitch. There was a holler from one of the girls on the table, and Aurora’s face was flushed as she stepped back from him, her fingers tangled with his.

“Woaaah, halfway there!” she launched back into the song, jumping up and down, and he couldn’t help but go along with their energy. Allowed himself to forget about his mission and what was to come and just live in the moment, dancing and singing with the girl he liked, allowing his heart to beat faster with the thought of stealing another kiss from her, as the song blasted on.

It doesn’t make a difference if we make it or not…

(The lines from the song at the end here are from “Living on a Prayer” by Bon Jovi. Since we don’t know what kind of music they will have in the future I think it’s fair to play pretend with what we have, even though it would be beyond ancient by then^^)

#andromeda six #andromeda 6 #andromeda six fanfiction #vexx serif #fanfic

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themangoyogurt · 4 years

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Misguided Youth: One More For The Road

Chapter 4

Spilling out onto the pavement, you leaned over with two hands on either knee. Pulling in thick drags of cold air into your lungs, you willed yourself to calm down before someone found you crying in an alley for no apparent reason. Just as your resolve began to crumble, familiar hands wrapped around your waist and pulled you up. You found yourself pressed against Jyn’s chest as she tugged you into a tight hug.

“Oh my God, what happened, babe? I’m so sorry I missed the concert! My manager asked me to stay longer, but I came as soon as possible!”

Pulling back, she held your head between two gentle palms as she looked into your eyes searching for some sort of answer. You began to choke out, “The...the asshole from the bar was Kylo Ren of Knights of Ren! He...he...I’m just a big fucking joke to him! He totally brought me here just to make fun of the fact that I didn’t recognize him.” Jyn’s eyes turned to steel as she turned to stare at the door.

“That motherfucker. Wait here!” She screeched as the angry woman made a beeline for the employee entrance. You lurched forward to grab her wrist and cried out, “No! I just want to go home and forget that this ever happened! I’m so fucking over Kylo and his shitty attitude.”

Jyn’s eyes flitted between yourself and the door before a mischievous grin spread over her face. She tightly gripped you by the shoulder and replied, “Nope. Hell no. In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve been many things, but never a quitter. I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed you back down from anything or anyone.”

Tugging you down the alley towards the street she continued, “Not only are we going to that afterparty, but we’re going make Kylo Ren regret ever pissing you off.”

You were heading up in an elevator and nervously staring at your reflection in the mirror within the metal box. Noticing you tugging at the hem of your skirt, Jyn reached over to slap your hand away from the garment. “Get your shit together, girl. Remember - if looks could kill.” Nodding along to your best friend, you stood a little straighter as confidence surged inside your chest.

Jyn had immediately dragged you to the nearby apartment of a mutual friend and her sister. After explaining your situation to the Tico sisters, the trio immediately set to working on your outfit. Jyn was hellbent on turning you into a vision, and decided that the best way to irritate Kylo Ren was to dangle a snack in front of him that he’d never have the pleasure of tasting.

While smudging dark kohl eyeliner underneath your eyes she had scoffed, “The best way to piss off a man who doesn’t understand the word ‘no’, is to tell him that that precise word”. While your eyes were darkened in a black smokey eye, your lips were painted in a crimson red. Rose set to pulling your hair into a slick high pony-tail as Paige dug around the back of her closet.

The tall Asian woman emerged behind a pile of clothes and laughed, “Man, I haven’t seen these garments since my clubbing days in college! Good thing I’m a hoarder.” She continued to giggle as she tossed a short black shift dress onto her bed. A pair of fishnet stockings landed next to the dress.

Eyeing the tights you exclaimed, “Uhh, there better be pants with this outfit, because I swear to God, Paige.”

Rose doubled over in laughter while Paige rolled her eyes. She jabbed an accusatory finger in your direction and huffed, “Don’t even try and act like a saint. I’ve seen you strut around Meatpacking in nothing more than a -“

It was Jyn’s turn to howl as she watched your cheeks redden at the memory. Paige gave you a flat stare and held up the dress. “Look, the hemline is still respectable. We’re definitely going for an ‘oh I could care less’ vibe, but you still want to look sexy. Remember the endgame - make Kylo drool but don’t look desperate. Besides, since when did you care so much about saving your piety?” She mocking pressed her palms together in a faux prayer between sweeping off to find you a pair of heeled boots.

The women worked quickly so that within the hour you were standing in Kylo’s private elevator shooting up to his penthouse. You were dropped off in a foyer, and Jyn’s grip tightened around your hand as she pushed you forward towards an open door.

His home was enormous and surprisingly tasteful. It just made you hate the man even more. Floor to ceiling windows adorned the entire place, showing off a glittering view of the New York City skyline. The place was filled to the brim with tons of people, and you swore you saw some celebrities sprinkled amongst the mix. Jyn only confirmed your suspicions as she squealed, “Oh my God, I think that’s Paul Rudd talking to Poe Dameron!”

Poe Dameron was a the former member of a popular boy band, who skyrocketed to fame after going solo. Jyn leaned over to whisper, “I heard that he got into a public feud with Kylo! Apparently America’s favorite bad boy called Dameron the creator of ‘pansy music’.” You rolled your eyes - that definitely sounded like the Kylo you’ve had the displeasure of getting to know.

Lifting your chin up a little higher, you strutted into the room. It was too late to back out now, and you were set on seeing your mission through. You would show Kylo Ren that he had no power over you, and that he could laugh at your expense all he wanted as long as you were drinking up his expensive liquor. You instinctively found yourself by the wet bar with Jyn as she grabbed a bottle Johnnie Walker Blue Label.

“A little heavy handed there wouldn’t you say, Jyn?” You quirked an eyebrow at your friend as she all but emptied a quarter of the bottle into two waiting glasses. Rolling her eyes at your response, she leaned over the counter to grab a bottle of Patrón. Splashing the liquid into two shot glasses, she teased, “These small enough for ya?”

Nudging the woman with your hip, you swiped the glass and downed the clear liquid in a single go. Jyn cheered and tossed back her own glass. Slamming it down, she reached over to the whiskey and shoved the full glass into your hand. She shot you a mischievous look and laughed, “You still gotta finish your glass. Can’t waste anything in this current economy, right?”

Looking over the rim of your glass, you slowly scanned the room as you ignored your friend’s antics. When you had first moved to New York, the two of you became fast friends during freshman year of college. Most of that year was a haze of partying and what your mother would have deemed “wild behavior”.

Jyn had dubbed herself the “Robin Hood of Dating”. Stuffy rich prep boys were always drawn to her for some reason. If they acted like douches then Jyn would provide payback in the form of bleeding their bank accounts dry through a series of unforgivingly expensive treats and dinners. Her biggest talent was probably the fact that she’d clean out their wallets without even shedding a single layer of clothing.

Fortunately the two of you emerged from your youthful dalliances rather unscathed. Was your GPA something to write home about? Probably not. But at least you lived a little, right? While you settled on (surprisingly) getting into grad school, Jyn wasn’t sure what she wanted to do with her life. One thing she knew for sure was that the woman was so over higher education.

You weren’t really sure what Jyn did now. She cycled through so many part-time jobs it was hard to keep up. You started to mull over her short-lived career as an actress (deceased prostitute number two on Law & Order SVU season six) when she snapped her fingers in front of your face.

“Hey! I’m talking to you!”

She took in your confused expression and shook her head. “Come on, girl. Now is not the time to relax. We need to find Lord Dickhead and then get the hell out of here, okay?”

You nodded and quickly downed your glass for courage. Jyn smirked and patted your back. “Atta girl,” she cheered. Looping an arm through the crook of your elbow, she pulled you away from the bar to circle the room.

Meanwhile, Kylo was nursing his own glass of whiskey as his eyes trailed behind you like a shark. You weren’t wearing that just a few hours ago. His grip was like steel as he thought about your earlier confrontation. Most women would have been all over him by now. At the very least excited to get free Knights of Ren tickets. Not only were you the opposite of thrilled, but he didn’t even catch who your guest was.

He was pretty sure he overheard Phasma tell Mitaka that you were bringing someone named Jim. What kind of name was that anyways? Kylo irritatedly thought that the guy sounded obnoxious. He probably had a full-time job and 401K. Kylo bitterly thought that Jim probably had a college degree.

Just as he thought his night couldn’t get worse, he caught sight of Poe Dameron making his way across the room towards you and a female who looked faintly familiar. God, he fucking hated the pretentious prick. The only reason Kylo barely tolerated his presence was the fact that he was grew up with Phasma and the pair were still good buddies.

Poe caught up to you just as Jyn stopped to grab another drink from the bar cart.

“Here, let me help,” he smoothly interjected as he reached over to grab an empty glass. Normally Jyn would roll her eyes at “chivalry”, but she caught sight of Kylo’s death glare towards the pop singer and smirked. She tilted her head and coyly giggled, “Thank you! I’m Jyn, and this beautiful single lady is my friend...”

The brown haired woman choked as you sharply elbowed her in the rib at the words “single” and “lady.” Poe caught the action and laughed at your playfulness. Slipping a full glass into your hand he replied, “Hello, ladies. I’m Poe.”

If you weren’t planning on murdering your best friend, you certainly were about to. The woman suddenly turned to you and exclaimed, “I need to run to the restroom. But I’m sure Poe wouldn’t mind hanging out with you for a little bit while I’m gone?”

Ever the gentleman, Poe enthusiastically agreed and Jyn took off before you could protest. The singer watched as you quickly downed half of your glass and dryly joked, “Whoa. I never said that I was great company, but I didn’t realize I was doing so poorly already.”

You shook your head and laughed. “No, no. It’s just...I didn’t really come here to party.”

“Then why did you come?”

“I’m...geez, it sounds really immature and petty if I say it out loud.”

Poe grinned and topped your glass off as he replied, “I once signed on to be a spokesperson for a leather jacket company just to spite a vegan ex.” You tilted your head down and let out a wheezy laugh.

“Alright, but promise you won’t judge me?”

Poe stuck out a pinky finger, and you wound your finger around his own. “Promise.”

“Okay. So, Kylo Ren kind of royally pissed me off tonight, so I came here to try and irritate the shit out of him for retaliation. I’m not exactly sure how I’ll execute my plan though, since Jyn was the mastermind and now she’s nowhere to be found.”

A glimmer shone in Poe’s eyes as he casually leaned forward to whisper, “Well, you’re just in luck. I can’t stand the guy either, so why don’t we help each other out?”

You were one shot of tequila and two and half glasses of whiskey into the night.

So yeah. That sounded like a good plan.

Nodding along with the man, you softly gasped as he wound an arm around your waist. Stepping forward, he brushed his lips against your ear and murmured, “Tell me if you’re uncomfortable.” You could barely push the syllables out of your mouth as you replied, “What...what are you doing?”

Poe remained in place as he quietly replied, “Finding out whether or not Kylo Ren is a patient man.”

Your spine stiffened at the unexpected physical contact, which didn’t go unnoticed by the man. He pulled back slightly and softly continued, “I’m honestly not planning on giving you more than a hug, but we can totally stop. Just say the word.”

Willing your shoulders to relax, you snaked a hand up to rest your palms flat against his chest. “No, I’m fine. I appreciate you letting me know. I was just surprised, that’s all.”

Poe nodded. “Okay, good. Because you kind of need to look somewhat interested for this to work.”

You tossed your head back in genuine laughter as the tension dissipated. Poe cracked a wide grin and the two of you continued to chat. While the conversation itself was the furthest thing from flirty, (sure, IRA contributions are tax-deductible, but if you want penalty free early withdrawals then...) your physicality told a different story.

Once in a while, Poe would reach up to play with the bottom of your ponytail as he wrapped a few strands around his fingers. You, on the other hand, continued to slide your palms up and down his chest while tilting your face up to laugh at his jokes. It was when Poe reached over to cup the back of your neck with his hand that Kylo lost it.

He hadn’t even realized that his feet had begun to move. Somehow, he crossed the entirety of his living room and ended up awkwardly standing in front of yourself and Poe.

The pop singer smirked, “Uh, hey man. Can we help you?”

You turned so your hip was flush against Poe’s as you leaned a head against his chest. Quietly staring up at the man, you tried to conjure a look that was equal parts innocent and “fuck you”.

Shit. Kylo hadn’t thought through his plan of action. He quickly supplied, “Yeah. Your friend is looking for you.”

You raised a single eyebrow and asked, “Who?”

Fuck. Kylo looked around and took a chance. “Uh, your friend from the concert. Jim.”

Jyn? Although, you could have sworn he said “Jim”. It was super fucking loud though, and you weren’t exactly sure what he said. You certainly weren’t about to embarrass yourself by playing five rounds of “what did you say?” and having the man repeat himself. Extracting yourself from Poe’s side, you turned to give him a faux sultry gaze. “Sorry, Poe. I gotta find my friend. Call me later about that date?”

Poe nodded and gave you a wink, satisfied that the two of you had successfully riled up your mutual enemy.

Kylo held himself back from straight up hissing, and reached over to aggressively tug your wrist into his wide palm. He jerked you away and practically dragged your body across the living room. Just as the two of you disappeared around the corner and out of eyesight, Poe was suddenly joined by another person.

Arms crossed with an evil smirk on her face, Phasma stepped up and offered the man a high-five.

“Thanks, Poe. I owe you one.”

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren #reader insert #misguided youth #modern au

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melodiouswhite · 4 years

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Classic literature vine compilation - Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde pt. 07

Hyde: Before I was moving, I was going to give each one you a gift, but I want you to have them anyway. *Hands out presents*

Utterson: Why, Hyde, how sweet!

Lanyon: Oh, boy, you shouldn't have! :D

Jekyll: *unpacks his present* Oh, Edward, this is so lovely and so familiar! *holds up a grey bowler* This is mine! I thought the hatter lost it!

Hyde: I told you he lost it! I took it, I needed something to go with my blue jacket!

Lanyon: *opens his own present* This is MY blue jacket!

Hyde: I know! It goes great with-

Utterson: *flatly* -My gold watch.

Hyde: Well, enjoy and be healthy! *runs off*

Lanyon: I wonder, if he's seen my cane with the ivory handle.

Utterson: You know, I haven't been able to find my silver locket.

Jekyll: *stands up* Come on, I think it's time to search his flat again.

---

Fruit Seller: You're crazy! This nectarine is beautiful, I never saw a more perfect piece of fruit!

Alma: No? Then try kissing my behind!

---

Jekyll: His love of life is so wonderful!

Hyde: No, it's not, you're just fucking suicidal.

---

Alma: What an ordeal this ride was, I can't imagine anything more terrifying!

Sameer: *holds a silver plate to her face* Booga, booga, booga. -_-

Alma: …

Lady Summers: *sighs*

---

Lanyon: I can't sleep and it can't be the coffee, because all I drink here is decaf! … Right?

Sameer: *innocently* Of course! Ü

Sameer: Why don't I bring a nice soda in to pick you up?

Lanyon: … *suspiciously* Alright, but make sure it's caffeine-free!

Sameer: Of course! Ü *takes out the normal Soda, as soon as Lanyon is gone*

---

Poole, to the ceiling: *exasperated* Oh God, is there a bigger buffoon in this world?!

Hyde: *Bursts in* I came here as fast as I could!

Poole: …

---

Young!Jekyll: So, tell me, Hastie: what did you do to kill the day, before I came along?

Young!Lanyon: Well, truth be told, my life was a little empty. *smirks* But now I have a hobby!

Jekyll: *stands up* I loathe you.

Lanyon: *stands up* I despise you.

Jekyll: Prude.

Lanyon: Philanderer.

Jekyll: Ginger.

Lanyon: Himbo.

Jekyll & Lanyon: *angry kissing*

---

Jekyll, to Utterson: You have the right to remain sexy!

Utterson: …

Jekyll: Anything you say can and WILL make me bust a nut!

Utterson: O.o

---

Hyde: Hey there, demons! It's me, ya boy!

---

Jekyll: Hey there, little guy, I'm your dad!

Hyde: I gotta be ugly. -_-

Jekyll: What?

Hyde: Bring me a mirror.

Jekyll: *points him to the one in the corner*

Hyde: Now take it away, goddamn. -_-

---

Lady Summers: Good morning, cruel world.

Jekyll: Don't you mean 'Goodbye'?

Lady Summers: No, I meant 'Good morning'. This world may be cruel, but I'm still kicking.

Jekyll: … Oh. *admiration intensifies*

---

Lady Summers: You get one on your knee from “tripping” and now this?!

Alma: Luise, for the last time, this is not a hickey! *points at her bruised elbow*

---

Hyde: *is fighting with some random guy*

Alma: *jumps to his aid* I’ve got this, bro!

Alma, to the guy: This is why your sister is gonna die of consumption! D:<

Guy: *starts to cry*

Hyde: O_O

---

Utterson: There is nothing that can make me really angry.

Someone: Your mother is a slut.

Utterson: *pulls out a gun* WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY????

---

Hyde: Owo, owo, owo, owo, owo-

Jekyll: *holds a gun to his head*

Hyde: What are you doing?!

Jekyll: I'm taking myself hostage. Now stop that or I'll shoot myself.

---

Some rando: *insults Lady Summers*

Lady Summers: *superior chill of superiority*

Rando: *insults her loved ones*

Lady Summers: Perish.

---

Hyde, in a blanket: I no longer wish to adult. From now on I shall remain a cozy burrito. If you need me, I will be in my fluff top here.

---

Utterson: *singing* Making my way back home, been a long day, time to see my-

Hyde: *comes running down the stairs*

Utterson: *singing* -fluffy dog, lalalala!

Hyde: *trips and rolls down the rest of the stairs*

---

Jekyll: For so many years, I thought that something was wrong with me, that I was the black sheep, and I needed to change my personality.

Jekyll: And after a long time of consideration, I realised, who I was.

Jekyll: I'm a piece of shit. Ü

---

Utterson, singing along to the radio: WHAT ABOUT US?

Jekyll: *bursts in to sing along*

Both: *singing* WHAT ABOUT EVERYTHING WE'VE BEEN THROUGH?

Utterson: *singing* WHAT ABOUT TRUST?

Jekyll: *singing* YOU KNOW I NEVER WANTED TO HURT YOUUUU!

Utterson: *singing* AND WHAT ABOUT MEEEE?

Lanyon: *snickering and filming in the background

---

Hyde on 1st November: *throws the Halloween decoration out and starts to decorate for Christmas*

---

Lady Summers, to Lanyon: Read the opposite of these words out loud. *points at a whiteboard*

Lanyon: What do you mean, the oppsite?

Lady Summers: Never …

Lanyon: Going.

Lady Summers: Yes.

Lanyon: To.

Lady Summers: Yes.

Lanyon: Give … you … up.

Lady Summers: *singing* NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UUUP-

Lanyon: *laughs*

---

*different types of people shopping*

Edwina: *the cart rider*

Lady Summers: *the one who gets hella crisps*

Lanyon: *the mum said "put it back" - throw*

Jekyll: *the one who puts it in a random spot*

---

Jekyll: Do you ever wake up and just think: Wow. What a beautiful day to be alive.

Jekyll: Just kidding. Fuck my life.

---

Lady Summers: These are three life facts you need to know.

Lady Summers: Number one: If you want to have a conversation with your friend, you need to talk. Talking is when words come out of your mouth.

Lady Summers: Number two: If you don't smell good and you want to smell good, you need to shower. Showering is the only way to clean your body.

Lady Summers: Number three: If you want to brush your teeth, but only have a little bit of tooth paste left, run over the tube with your car and then throw it into the rubbish. Then go to the store and buy a brand new tube of tooth paste. Now it'll be so much easier to brush your teeth.

---

Lanyon: *singing* I used to be so fucking ugly, now look at me-

Lanyon: *singing* -I'm still really fucking ugly, it's clear to see-

Everyone else: LANYON, NO!!!!

---

Young Jekyll, when Lanyon calls himself ugly: I'M GOING TO HAVE TO PUT ON YOUR BLOODY SUN GLASSES, BECAUSE I CAN'T EVEN BEGIN TO SEE THE AMOUNT OF BULLSHIT COMING FROM YOU!!!

Young Lanyon: …

---

Jekyll's mother: A little birdie told me, that you don't respect the sanctity of marriage. Is that true, you spawn of Satan?! You spawn of POSSESSION?! I BANISH THEE TO THE DEPTHS OF HELL! BEGONE, SATAN!!! *throws a book at Jekyll*

Young Jekyll: *runs away*

---

Jekyll: It all started, when my parents' increasingly high expectations met my crippling internalised fear of failure. Then they met my nature. Then the declining economy and impending recession met my college education. And they'd meet my student debt. Then my student debt met my mental health problem. And they made insomnia. Then this morning my insomnia met four cups of coffee. Ü

Jekyll: Hi. My name is Henry and I'm about to shit my inexpressibles. ^^

---

Utterson, if he was bi: If you're a woman, you might want to keep scrolling, unless you want to get a lady boner. In three … two … one …

Utterson: *proceeds to wash dishes, cook dinner and clean the house*

Edwina: … I'm suddenly sad that you're married.

---

Young Lady Summers, to her father: I'm going out for lunch today. ^^

Margrave Alexander v.H.(her father): Are you going somewhere?

Lady Summers: A-a rendezvous … o///o

M.A.: This is an emergency! Alright … take this. *holds up his swordcane*

Lady Summers: Papa?! e_o

M.A.: Oh, sorry. Would this work better? ^^ *holds up his hunting rifle*

Lady Summers: No! That's not necessary!

M.A.: No, no. I'll be going, too! Ü

Lady Summers: YOU DON'T HAVE TO COME!!! Q_Q

---

*Types of kids in class*

Alma: *kid always sleeping*

Lady Summers: *the kid in a wheelchair*

Hyde: *the creeper*

Lanyon: *the heartbroken guy*

Utterson: *the girl in love*

Jekyll: *the depressed kid*

#The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde #Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde #Dr. Jekyll #henry jekyll #Mr. Hyde #edward hyde #Mr Utterson #Gabriel John Utterson #utterson #Hastie Lanyon #dr lanyon #oc #sources: tictoc and vine compilations on YouTube and my head

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not-close-to-straight · 5 years

Text

It’s That Easy (Spideypool)(Final)

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

*********************

By the end of his heat with Wade, Peter was bruised from being held so tight and sore from being knotted and so tired that he slept for a full sixteen hours after it was all said and done. He woke up with a smile on his face though, glowing in the way that only post-heat Omega’s did, eyes shining and skin flushed and it was a vast contrast to how completely fucked out Wade looked-- exhausted and dehydrated and worn the hell out because wow did heat take a lot of energy.

“To be fair--” he groaned when Peter jumped on the bed and clambered over to sit on Wade’s waist. “To be fair, Alpha’s gotta do all the work with this sort of thing. You just get to lay there and take knots. No wonder you aren’t exhausted.”

“I get to lay there and take knots?!” Peter’s mouth fell open. “Are you serious with that!”

“Don’t worry, baby boy.” A jaw cracking yawn, and Wade yanked the Omega down to snuggle. “You take knots like a champ. You should be real proud of that.”

“WADE!”

Even with Wade’s less than stellar conversation skills, it had been a good heat and Peter was a happy, satisfied Omega.

He’d be happier though, if the Alpha had finished what he’d started so many times, and turned the bruises at Peter’s bonding spot into a full fledged bite, finishing his claim.

In fact, Peter would have been happy if Wade had told him I love you back just once, but every time the Alpha had just tucked him close and kissed him breathless and left it alone.

It was fine. The Alpha wanted to take things slow and that was fine. Peter was a little thrown by just how quickly he was ready and willing to bond with Wade, considering how much he’d balked at anything resembling settling down with Harry, and maybe it was crazy but it was also easy, so easy to be with Wade that Peter found himself wondering why he’d wasted any time with any one else.

So they hadn’t bonded yet. It was fine.

Wade didn’t claim Peter the second heat together either, even though by that point he had moved the Omega out of the shitty studio apartment and into his shockingly nice place downtown.

“Uh yes, question?” Peter asked the first time Wade brought him home to the high rise complex. “Why the fuck do you hang out at Weasel’s if you have a place like this to come home to?”

“I dunno.” Wade shrugged and dropped the one measly box of Peter’s things in the bedroom closet. “Just didn’t feel right, didn’t really feel like I belonged.” His eyes flickered red then back to hazel as he looked Peter over with a possessive growl. “Didn’t feel like home yet.”

“Oh.” Peter’s hand went unconsciously to his neck, scratching over the disappointingly clear skin. “And now?”

“Apparently all it took is a hot Omega with legs that don’t quit to make it feel like home.” Wade held out his hand and pulled Peter close, burying his nose in the thick hair and rumbling approvingly. “M’glad you’re here, baby boy. Glad you wanted to move in with me.”

They’d gone shopping after that, shopping for everything from new sheets to dishes and curtains and then spent the rest of the weekend christening every available surface in the three bedroom apartment, teasing and laughing and saying “I love you” in a hundred different ways, but when Peter’s heat came on, Wade still didn’t bite him.

Well no, he bit him several times-- at the juncture of hip and thigh just sharp enough to make Peter shriek, softer nibbles along Peter’s jaw, harder in the meat of Peter’s ass before Wade spread him open and took Peter apart with nothing more than his tongue and fingers--

But not where Peter wanted him to, not where the Omega needed him to.

So before his third heat with Wade rolled around, Peter sat his Alpha down and just asked him point blank-- “Why won’t you bond with me?”

“What?” Wade froze with a sandwich halfway to his mouth, right in the middle of carbo-loading to prepare for the next few days since neither of them remembered to eat anything other than granola bars during heat. “What-- what do you mean?”

“I mean, this will be our third heat together.” Peter pointed out. “And before this, you helped me through three other ones, even if you weren’t you know--helping me. And I thought you’d bite me the first time when you told me it wasn’t just a trauma bond between us but you didn’t.”

“I thought it was too soon.” Wade swallowed a big bite and cleared his throat. “Our first time-- I didn’t want you to regret it.”

“Well what about last time?” Peter countered. “You moved me in here and I know you love me and I know you imprinted mate on me, and obviously I--” he blushed and Wade didn’t think he’d ever get used to how precious that was. “--obviously I’m fine with it. Omega’s don’t imprint like you Alpha’s do, but I always knew you were good for me, knew I was safe with you, right from the start.”

“That’s good, sweetheart.” Wade’s voice was a little hoarse and he cleared his throat again. “I’m glad you always knew you were safe with me.”

“I did.” The Omega bit his lip and peeked up from his lashes shyly, knowing damn well his Alpha couldn’t resist it, and Wade proved his point by just chucking the sandwich and grabbing Peter up into his lap. “So why don’t you want to bond with me?”

Wade sighed, sifting his Omega’s hair through his fingers for a long minute as he though. “Pete, you don’t want a mate.”

“Sounds fake, but okay.” Peter frowned. “Why would you think I don’t want a mate?”

“You left Harry because he wanted a bond and kids and all that sort of crap.” Wade shrugged. “I didn’t want to assume you’d change your mind for me. Just because you feel safe with me doesn’t mean you want to deal with the glitter covered trash party that is my general self forever. And you’re so incoherent during your heat, even if you asked me to bite you I’d always feel like--”

He stopped, shook his head. “--I’d always feel like I took advantage of you. You don’t know what you’re saying during heat, in fact you should hear half the shit you say. Don’t get me wrong, I love all of it but if someone was listening--”

“If someone was listening?” Peter interrupted, eyes sparking with laughter. “And who exactly would be listening to the nonsense I say during my heat?”

“Fuckin no one.” Wade snarled, eyes red at even the thought of anyone ever hearing the way Peter talked during heat, anyone else being privy to moments that were meant to be between him and his mate. “No one else listens.”

“Such a big scary Alpha.” Peter pushed their foreheads together and growled playfully, reveling in the freedom he had to tease and push and just be real with his Alpha. It was another thing he hadn’t realized he didn’t have with Harry and he loved that he had it with Wade.

“And by the way?” he continued. ““I left Harry because he refused to get me suppressants so I could continue school. He tore up internship papers because he didn’t want me working outside the home.”

“But you--” he inched closer, purring quietly when Wade put both arms around him. “--you’ve gone out and got me suppressants for over six months now. Yesterday you wrote out a ridiculous sized check so I can go back to school for the spring semester. I turned down a job last month because it meant an hour subway ride each way, so you offered to buy me a car instead.”

“You’re my mate, Pete.” The Alpha’s eyes shuttered a possessive shade of red again as he stroked his thumb over the bonding spot at the base of Peter’s neck. “And I’m gonna do whatever it takes to keep you happy, just like I did when we first met and just like I’ve been trying to do the last few months. You’re my mate whether there’s a mark on you or not, it’s enough for me Pete.”

“You’d make it that easy?” Peter whispered. “You’d give up the security of a bond if you thought I didn’t want it.”

“I’d make it that easy.” Wade confirmed. “I’m not going to try and tie you down like Harry did. I want you to be happy and that’s my entire extensive thought process on the matter.”

“And if I wanted to be tied to you?” There went Peter with that shy look again, all soft eyes and long lashes and hesitant smile. “What about then? Would you still tell me no?”

“The hell I would. If I knew you wanted me as mate I’d bend you over that chair and fuck you six ways to Sunday.” Wade confirmed. “And when your heat comes in a few days, I’m gonna bite the shit out of you.”

“You’re so romantic, you make my heart flutter.” Peter teased and Wade growled back at him. “I love you, Alpha my Alpha. Don’t you love me?”

“I love you, Pete.” Wade whispered. “I can’t wait to make you mine.”

“I’m yours, Alpha.” Peter whispered back. “I’m already yours.”

*******************

The internship at Stark Industries was everything Peter had ever imagined it would be, and he didn’t know how Wade had managed to even get him an interview, but Peter had been here for just over a month and it was everything he had ever imagined it would be.

And then it all got even better, when Tony Stark showed up at his desk one day to ask questions about the line of suppressants Peter was working on.

“So, no negative side effects?” The Alpha asked, flipping through Peter’s work. “Based off of blood types and specific biology markers? You know, this could be very expensive, manufacturing a different suppressant for every Omega out there. Expensive to the point of almost not viable.”

“It could be very expensive.” Peter nodded. “And lots of companies would take advantage of that, but a company as big as Stark Industries could afford to sell it at a lower price. Plus, if you provided it free of charge to the public health clinics and people on state insurance, then you’d get enough of a tax break as to make it affordable even for people who don’t have insurance, which means every Omega in the country could afford good suppressants which means we could work and go to school which only helps everything about the economy, right?”

“And also--” Peter took a deep breath and kept right on talking, taking the surprised smile on the Alpha’s face as permission. “-- since suddenly having Omegas able to work consistently will raise the numbers of the work force, you could offer more scholarships and open up more internships to bring the best out of the bigger classes here to SI.”

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this.” Mr. Stark said, scanning a few more pages quickly. “Right up into my financial issues, hm?”

“Oh well--” Peter flushed nervously. “I mean--”

“No, it’s good.” The Alpha handed him back the file. “My Omega Steve struggles with suppressant issues, mostly finding correct doses for his size that aren’t toxic. Your ideas could change his life, not to mention the lives of several other Omega’s that I personally know, and of course, literal millions of Omega’s if your ideas actually work.

“I--”

“Let’s have lunch.” Tony checked his watch. “I’ll buy, you can talk. Do you eat shawarma? It doesn’t matter, you’re going to love it. Come on, lets go.”

******************

Later that night over a dinner of steaks and vegetables, Peter was nearly bursting with information about his day, chattering as fast as he could and barely letting Wade get a word in edgewise, and Wade just grinned over it.

When he finally slowed down a little, Wade snarked-- “Enjoying the internship, are you?”

The Omega launched himself towards his Alpha, burrowing into his lap and mouthing over his bonding mark and biting at him with soft trills and purrs. “I’m so happy.” he muttered, squashing even closer. “So happy, Alpha. My life is everything I could ever want right now.”

“Well that’s real good, Pete.” Wade pretended to think for a minute. “And all it took was bonding with me, right? We should bottle that and sell it on TV. Is true happiness just finding the right Alpha? Is really that easy?”

Peter rolled his eyes, but his smile for his mate was very very soft. “I guess it’s really that easy.”

******************************

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#ncts fics #spideypool #wade wilson #peter parker #alpha wade #alpha tony stark #omega peter parker

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coe-lilium · 4 years

Text

TroS reaction (1st view)

Necessary premise in bullet points:

- I liked TFA when it came out and still do but as I dug into the franchise/canon (Disney only by choice) my enjoyment of it became more lukewarm. Came out of it dreading a potential Reylo but liking the two charas on their own.

- went into TLJ worried I’d hate it, came out with it being my favorite saga movie and sold on the Rey-Ren connection, whatever road it would’ve taken. Loved the “Rey’s powerful on her own/bc the Force wants to set Kylo’s wrongs right”. It felt good after two years of being bombarded with “this fucking Mary Sue can have any power only if she’s connected to powerful men of the saga, she has otherwise no right in being powerful” in forums spaces.

- went into TroS non-spoiled, wary of Palpatine return but relatively hopeful if soured about the “JJ our lord and saviour pleease save us from evil evil Jonhson” (HA!). The rumors about lore from the tv series being featured into the movie had me excited.

That said, here goes: [SPOILERS FOR THE ENTIRE MOVIE, ENDING INCLUDED, RIGHT OFF THE BAT]

I didn’t like it. I really hope to warm up to it more in future views, there’s absolutely stuff I liked or even loved, but as it stands now it was overall a massive disappointment on many sides and -worst of all- threatens to retroactively ruin my enjoyment in other previous stories.

First, the positives:

- Parentage notwithstanding, Rey was good. Her rage, her fears, her good heart, her commitment to the fight and the training, her longing for guidance… truly, if the bloodline revelation hadn’t retroactively ruined my investment in the character and themes I’d have fully, 100% loved her even if every single other part of the movie had been the same.

Except for a brief war flashback to Starkiller game abilities (I lolled) I wasn’t even troubled by all the new abilities or their scope. Movies’ been inventing new powers since the beginning and the Force does what the Force wants. Again, fuck the genetics “twist”, garbage stuff.

- Kylo, next to… 95% that involved him? TLJ did a great job selling him to me and surprisingly this movie added to that instead of retconning it away. More competent but still stupid and petty from time to time. I’m glad he came back, glad he choose right and glad he was allowed more time on the right side than Anakin. I love redemptions and he was portrayed as wavering the entire trilogy, I don’t even really care that it could’ve done better. I’m happy for him and his family, that’s all. The kiss got a laugh out me but not a malicious one, I was kind of running out of reasonable reactions by then.

I’m just conflicted on how I feel about his death. Back when TFA was released I wanted him to survive to face what Anakin didn’t: justice (the kid-friendly setting prevented a death sentence anyway), atonement and growth from there, I still wish it happened and maintain that a different pacing would’ve allowed it. On the other hand, I’m also kinda okay with him dying. He righted at least a bit of his many wrongs, he saved a person he cared for, that his parents cared for and that could help the galaxy much more than he ever could and he was at peace. It was a good death.

- Kylo’s vision/illusion of Han. A surprise but a very pleasant, well acted one. Would’ve I maybe liked Anakin more, as Ben idolized him so much and for all the wrong reasons and because I love that disaster? Yes. Does Han work much better in the economy of the movie and trilogy story and do he and Ben have a much rawer relationship and history? Absolutely. I am a teeny tiny bit baffled as for why Luke didn’t also show up, but the actual scene was good enough I forgive it.

- Rey and Kylo bond and connection was one of the saving graces of this mess and I utterly loved it. Both actors worked their asses for for all their scenes and it payed off, oh if it payed off. Their DSII duel was perhaps a tad long but great nonetheless (Republic era Jedi jumps!), the hurt and the sense of absolute loss and grief they both conveyed -and shared!- after Leia’s passing was incredible, Rey regretting the near kill and softly going “I would have stayed, had you renounced the dark side”. She cared, yes, but not to the point of ignoring the horrors (something Anakin never quite understood). The “dyad” stuff was a bit overkill, just call it a force bond, we can see it’s freaking powerful, but the Force Skype and sharing of objects that came with the package, that I loved. Surprise lightsaber, Ren fuckers! :D Bet Anakin and Obi Wan were really jealous, that would’ve come in handy during the war.

- Finn was now fully invested in the cause, at ease, visibly happy to be with his friends, ready to bond and reach out, quick to plan, to act and to adapt to the situation, brave but cautious and calculating. I wish it was given a bit more focus, but I loved he found other young FO defectors. Also fuck yeah, he’s force sensitive and his ability is used, not just thrown in as a useless wink. Jedi Finn in future material, c’mon!

- Poe’s also grown. He was probably going to have more screen time with Leia had Carrie not died but there was nothing to be done for that. I’m not as happy as for previous 3 charas for the backstory retcon I’ll tackle in the negatives.

- Jannah was cool, the addiction of other FO defectors a welcomed one and the scene were she and Finn excitedly went over their “I broke free” moment was adorable. Good bean, I’d read more about her and her company.

- A bit lot annoyed at Bloodline being kinda tossed outta the window but getting Leia with lightsaber was nice. Give me some ancillary material to deal with the clash and I’ll fully forgive it.

- Jedi! MY GIRL AHSOKA MY MAN KANAN! I mean, I sure wish they were in a better movie, but hey, recognition for something more than the OT? No slandering of the Order but all of them collectively kicking Sidious ass once and for all? I’ll gladly take it. Anakin, my dude, I’m sorry your sacrifice was next to nullified but it was good to hear you again ;_; I didn’t hear Ezra’s voice anywhere so I can still hope he’s alive, well and with the Ascendancy teaching all their Navigators. “I am all the Jedi” remains a terrible line.

And now, oh boi. Here comes the long list of annoying - bad - stinking shit stuff:

- If I wanted to watch a 2 and half long videogame cutscenes I’d have done that in the comfort of my home without spending money for tickets. Go to level x to retrieve related macguffin, move to next level to get next macguffin and so on and so on. I liked close to everything in the DS II sequences, but what would’ve that dagger pointed at if the wreckage had fallen even a little bit differently?

In general, many plot points gave me the feeling they were stolen from the tv series and badly executed, like a mockery (or incompetence?). Case in point: Hux betraying the 1st Order out of personal, spiteful hate? Potentially good! The execution? A poor man’s Rebels Agent Kallus, already over in little more than 5minutes.

- Palpatine himself is a poorly, ridiculously poorly executed Maul resurrection storyline from tcw and rebels.

Because Maul was 1. explained and 2. got a good, long arc that made you forgive the undoubtably contrived ass-pull it took to bring him back while Sidious is just… there. You gotta accept it because the writer said so.

How did he survive? We don’t know and fuck you if you expect an explanation (they really had the absolute galls to have him say the iconic/meme line from Rots and apparently it was supposed to be enough?!) How could he “have all Sith reside inside me” when canon’s clear that Sith do-not-get-to-retain-their-individuality-in-the-Force, do not work well together (lmao) and he as an individual never gave a shit about the Sith except when they could serve his own personal desires? His entire approach to the rule of two and other Sith stuff is “fuck that noise, everything in the galaxy exist to serve me”. He’s fine dying as long as “the Sith rule”? Who IS this character, because he’s not Darth Sidious (as presented in Disney’s own canon, mind). Oh, you wanted explanations? FUCK YOU, screams the movie.

The mess gets somehow salvaged in the end as he comes to his senses and siphon the life out of Rey and Ben to de-rotten/revive himself to rule in person, now *that* was in character. Was he actually lying his ass off the entire time waiting for the moment he could siphon them? Hopefully but who the hell even knows.

In the end it just wasn’t worth bring him back. A holocron, a different Sith, even a hive-mind of old records/tainted wraiths of Sith (perhaps wearing Palps face to buy the old empire aficionados loyalty, idk) would’ve been better than “actually, Anakin suffered nearly his entire life and sacrificed himself for barely more than 25 years of peace and it still wasn’t enough to rid the galaxy of the monster who destroyed his and countless other lives”. But Johnson was the one shitting on beloved characters legacy and accomplishments, uh? Surely at least he’s got company.

Ian was clearly having a blast, so there was… that? And the initial sequence being legit creepy and the Sith storm or whatever the fuck was that. That can stay, it was cool.

- Poe, the latino character, got retconned from former Republic pilot (a backstory established before TFA came out and faithfully respected ever since) into a smuggler and gang member. Classy. What does Lucaslfilm have a story group for if not for stopping stuff like this from happening? Bonus Zorii being used for a “no homo! homo? no homo?” wink wink and for generally being a poor man Solo’s Qi’ra.

- The movie makes you worry for a character death three (3) times in a row only to immediately backpedal on it. The survivors are grieving, the scene is sober… and then suddenly! they’re alive! isn’t it wonderful? let’s insert a comical scene now that we’re at it! Sigh.

- The whole Threepio stuff was a contrived waste of time in a movie already full of more relevant plot treads that could’ve put that screen time to better use.

- Rey’s parents apparently aren’t assholes anymore bc they sold her into slavery to protect her from Sidious, which is… supposed to make it alright, a sacrifice in the name of love? If they had been shown trying to give her to a trusted person and then she was kidnapped that wouldn’t had been their fault, just unfortunate, but the movie shows them leaving their 5yo daughter with her in-all-but-name slaver so??

- Rey Palpatine… Rey. Palpatine. Gesù Cristo benedetto che minchia mi è toccato di vedere. That hurt. That was so hilariously over the top bad I just…I started laughing. On top of the entire thing, thank you so, soo much for validating all those fucking assholes who demanded Rey be connected to a powerful man in the saga to accept her powers and value, you hack. Jedi were never about power of blood and then you went and reinforced the very opposite. She ain’t powerful bc the Force recognized her as worthy to stop evil and chose to aid her anymore, she’s powerful bc grandfather was. Lovely stuff. Hilariously, now she has a lot more legit “Mary Sue” traits than before.

- Rose’s sidelining was a blatant bow to her and her actress haters whims. If in VIII she jumped at the chance of action, now she was fearful and “had to stay behind” studying maps. Fuck that noise.

- Even if she rejected it, underline is that the Skywalker line is wiped out and the Palpatine one thrives. I… just… wtf wtf wtf. A final “Just Rey” would’ve been more powerful -because now it would’ve been reclaimed- and less corny and in poor taste than a Palpatine taking on the Skywalker name. I’m not sure if Sidious is more offended or if he’s laughing his ass off in space!hell. Probably the 2nd. Bad.

- The final scene on Tatooine. It rang so empty because the planet brings warm memories only to the audience, not the characters. In-universe, that place brought nothing but misery to the Skywalkers: Anakin and Shmi were brought there as slaves and lived as such for years, Shmi was tortured to death and Anakin began his descent into the dark for crying out loud. Luke had to hide and saw his relatives murdered. Leia had no connection whatsoever to the place. The mera idea of burying Anakin Skywalker lightsaber into the sands of Tatooine and considering it a way of paying respect is… I don’t know, hilariously in bad taste? Rey, dear, what did you have personally against the guy? Put those sabers to rest on Naboo! Ah, but we can’t truly acknowledge the PT now, can we? Wack.

- It’s not TroS complete fault, that “honor” mostly sit at TFA’s feet but for all its omages, copies and almost slavish references, from a in-universe point of view it’s like the OT barely occurred.

The same evil man has been defeated (until next time?), the Republic must be rebuilt from scratch, a evil military is all over the place and must be dealt with, the Jedi Order has to be rebuilt… it’s depressing. A new evil taking advantage of the empire leftovers would’ve been one thing, but Sidious? He’s been effectively winning nonstop ever since he was elected Chancellor. He had all the power, all the influence, all the control and he maintained it all even as a rotten corpse in exile, the entire galaxy marching on his tune, controlled by his strings. And as the cherry on top of the cake he even managed to wipe out the family that could’ve, should have been his undoing! He effectively destroyed the Skywalkers. He outlived every Jedi, every survivor, every clone. I hate this. It’s sickening. I can’t even be happy Rex was on Endor anymore.

In general, the best word I can find for this movie is: coward.

So blatantly desperate to please, to be “forgiven”, to reference every single irrelevant thing -except the PT and the TV series in a intelligent way-, to throw fanservice after fanservice after fanservice no matter how nonsensical from all over that crossed the “corny” to wander into embarrassing territory many times over (Maz giving Chewie a medal outta nowhere? Come the fuck on now).

The cartoon series had twenty time the guts of this movie and I vehemently wish for Filoni to take the helm of the entire creative team in a very near future.

#tros spoilers #sw tros #star wars #star wars spoilers #tros negative #the more i think about sidious the more it sickens me #tros negativity

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child-of-sunshine · 4 years

Text

Just gotta rant for a minute so this is going under a cut

I can’t stand the way tumblr in general talks about “rich people” (which they can’t define to save their fucking lives) and particularly when they mention “millionaires” as though it actually means something significant in terms of wealth.

First, no one seems to understand that by today’s inflated standards, a million dollars really isn’t that much. A quick google search will tell me that the average “middle-income” parent in America will spend over 250k to raise a child from birth to 18 years old. If a couple has 4 kids, they’re already spending over a million dollars on those kids. Yes, that’s over 18 years, but it’s still meaningful.

If a person makes 100k, which is supposedly the 85th percentile of income, it only takes them 10 years to make a million dollars. And yes, obviously they’re spending money too, and it’s not like their savings or their net worth are going to be a million in that time, but people don’t even seem to comprehend that their earnings over that time would literally be a million. Someone earning the average American income, let’s say 50k because I get conflicting information from various sources, would only take 20 years to earn a million dollars.

And calling “millionaires” (putting that in quotes because people (a) do NOT understand the difference between net worth and actual liquid assets or even income) rich, particularly in the context of the “eat the rich” rhetoric, is ridiculous. I know this site has a serious problem with black-and-white thinking, but for fuck’s sake.

Let’s take a look at my parents.

My dad grew up in a relatively low-income household. His mother’s grandparents came straight from Italy with a few dollars in their pockets and nothing else. Her family struggled to get food on the table at times. She worked very hard as a seamstress and married a man who had a good job at Ford back when that meant actual benefits including into retirement, and so they managed to raise two boys without having to worry too much about being able to afford food or housing. They saved like crazy and spent the minimum that they possibly could on themselves, so that when they reached retirement, they had a pretty decent amount of savings for the rest of their lives and could finally enjoy some luxury vacations and get a small but nice house in Florida.

My mom grew up in a truly low-income household. She was the youngest of five siblings living in a tiny, shitty town in Nowhere, Michigan, with two parents who smoked constantly, in a house that sat next to some kind of horrifying mystery waste pond (she and both of her sisters had cancer, my mom at just 36, and one of her brothers died from some kind of unknown neurological deterioration). Her father got TB and spent time in a sanitarium, after which he became a withdrawn alcoholic and then died relatively young. Her mother became depressed, stopped working, and died of cancer. My mom lost both of her parents in her early 20s, before she even met my father.

Both of my parents were gifted with the great privileges of great brains and being white. Even in their crappy hick town in the middle of nowhere, my mom managed to be in the top of her class (of 56 whole people) in high school and earned a scholarship to a state university, literally the only way she could have afforded to attend. My dad worked to pay for his college as far as I know (because back then you could actually do that). They both got bachelor’s degrees. My dad became an engineer, a good career, and quickly found a job with a relatively new, small local company. He worked extremely hard, long hours for years and moved up to being a manager, and the company has grown a lot over the 25+ years he’s now worked there, with the result that he now makes a low six-figure salary. My mom took a computer programming course after realizing her journalism degree wouldn’t get her much paid work, and has worked as a programmer for 25+ years now, switching jobs sometimes, usually making somewhere in the 60-70k range in the last decade or so.

My mother got pregnant with my sister around the time she and my dad got engaged. She was working a crappy programming job and he’d barely started as an engineer, making nowhere near six figures. They lived in a trailer park, in a trailer with a hole in the floor and steps that were a safety hazard. She’d spent some time living with her sister, who’s 13 years older than her and never had children (thus had a house and some savings). My dad’s mother, the seamstress, made my mom’s wedding dress for free as long as my mom bought the material for it, which was just about all they could afford. They had a nice, small wedding when my sister was about 2 (she was afraid of my mom’s dress lmao) and one of my cousins took the pictures.

Four years after my sister was born, my parents had saved up enough to put a down payment on our house, a moderate-sized family home in a suburban neighborhood that was just being built. The house was a little over 200k. She got pregnant with me and the house was finished just after I was born.

My mom got cancer when I was 2 years old. They haven’t talked to me much about it. Her sister spent a lot of money to buy her a really nice wig made of animal hair (which, unfortunately, she could rarely wear because it made her very itchy). She went through surgery, chemo, and radiation. She spent months sick as hell and miserable, while trying to raise two young daughters. Thankfully, they’d saved enough to be able to handle the medical bills, particularly with my dad’s good job that had good benefits and, by then, was paying him a pretty decent salary. My mom recovered, thankfully (over 20 years in remission now!).

In 2008, when the recession hit, my mom lost her job quickly. She tried finding new ones but couldn’t. No one was hiring programmers, they were getting rid of them. Her depression got a lot worse. I was in high school and depressed myself (in large part because of the situation at home, though my parents don’t know it, that became suicidal depression a while afterward), and they had to start paying for therapy for me. My sister was in college and had to try to pay for it herself because my parents’ college fund for her hadn’t gone as far as they’d hoped. My dad’s company supplies machines to auto manufacturers. They were worried. They laid off some people, thankfully not my dad, and others had to take pay cuts. My parents started sitting down and seriously going over finances. My mom and I had to completely quit figure skating, my only physical stress outlet (like I said, that contributed a LOT to the severe depression). We had to cut down the grocery bills and think about not buying gifts for family members’ birthdays and such. My grandparents, happily retired by then with good savings, paid off the rest of our mortgage and told my dad to pay them back without interest whenever he could, so that no matter what happened with the jobs, we at least wouldn’t have to worry about losing our house. I listened to my parents scream at each other over money and I cried myself to sleep a lot of nights.

Guess what? My dad is a millionaire. Definitely not in liquid assets, but in net worth he probably just barely hits 1 million. He now makes a low six-figure salary and when the economy is doing okay, he invests some of it in the stock market, mostly in low-risk stocks that are guaranteed to have payouts (I don’t know a lot about this, so that’s all I’ll say). He inherited/learned his dad’s extreme money-saving ways and saves as much as possible. He’s an engineer and very handy, so whenever possible he does home and car repairs himself to save a lot of money. I managed to get a scholarship that covered almost all of my undergrad tuition, I lived at home for half of undergrad and all of med school to save money, I worked in retail in undergrad and as an EMT in med school to pay for some of my own stuff, and they didn’t pay for any of my med school tuition, so that’s it for their educational expenses for me. My mom’s had a good, stable job for the last few years that pays in the low 80k range, I think. We live in a house worth ~250k that we now fully own thanks to my grandparents.

A few years ago, my dad’s brother bought a crappy, tiny, nearly-condemned cabin in the woods up north for about 20k (seriously, it was shit). He and my dad put in a few hundred dollars and a TON of time and manual labor to fix it up, and now we pay half the bills on it and both of our families use it for vacations. We have a small (19ft) boat that my dad bought as a gift for my mom when she had cancer--he got it extremely cheap from a guy who’d bought it, barely used it, and just wanted rid of it. It’s a 1994 and full of problems now, but we’ve managed to keep it going (barely, at times) and my dad has taken really good care of it over the years. A friend of my dad’s got him into snowmobiling about a decade ago and once his brother bought the cabin and they fixed it up, my dad got a cheap, crappy used snowmobile, which he used for a few years before reselling it and upgrading to an actually nice, new one, because yeah, he could afford it. He’s upgraded a couple times, good for him. When I actually have the time off, I go up with him in the winter and ride one of his old ones that he kept and fixed after it had an engine problem. It doesn’t cost much to renew the trail permits each year and I borrow my uncle’s gear for riding, so other than the initial cost of the sleds, it really costs us nothing to go riding (gas is extremely negligible in snowmobiles, they can go 120+ miles on a single 8 gallon tank, and we store them ourselves at the cabin so we don’t pay for that). We store the boat in our garage at home (like I said, it’s small) so other than the permit and gas for that when we take it out, again, really no continuous expense.

My parents pay all of their taxes without trying to do any bullshit work-arounds. They don’t have a lawyer or a tax accountant or a financial advisor, my dad does it all himself. He keeps track of all of our finances himself. We don’t pay a landscaping service or a cleaning service or any of that crap, we do it all ourselves like any other middle-class family. My mom donates regularly to charities for cancer, animal rescues, and injured veterans.

But to tumblr, incapable of seeing nuance, we’re “one-percenters (absolutely nowhere near true) who own a house and have a ‘vacation home’ and a boat and recreational vehicles” so we’re pretty much just as bad as Bezos, because anyone who isn’t actively struggling to put food on the table or in horrible medical debt because of our disaster of a system is apparently “rich” and there’s no such thing as shades of gray.

#sorry that was insanely long #no one will read it though so it doesn't matter #that's why I made the read more #just needed to write down thoughts and bitch #I hate the politics on this site #so many good ideas SO badly implemented #the splitting on here is completely fucking ridiculous #and I'm really sick of seeing things that imply me or my family are evil and inherently bad for existing comfortably #and going on occasional vacations #and being able to afford the medical bills when I got a tumor and needed surgery

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seitjun · 5 years

Text

eat your heart out

freewood // 4k+ words // demon/human au

descrption: There's rumors about the house that Gavin's moving into, centering around the supernatural. But it's a free house in this economy, Gavin doesn't believe in that sort of thing, and he's polite enough to probably not piss off any supernatural creatures that do live there. Absolutely nothing could go wrong. (or in which Gavin lives in a definitely supernatural house, his friends are concerned, and Ryan is the demon who lived there first trying to get the new owner's attention. Not like Gavin notices any of it anyway.)

extra notes: this isnt serious at all, its just a cheesy horror romcom which is the best genre really. for @viridianchance who created this fuckin fantastic idea.

also available on AO3 here!

The Texas heat pounds against Gavin’s body, and with no clouds in sight, the sun’s rays are full force. Even after years of residence, the heat is still his worst enemy after living in muggy London. It worsens with spring melting into summer being a nasty occasion for allergies, and he scowls as he steps out of the car. He has to peer through squinted, watery eyes at the building they’ve stopped by.

It’s a fairly large home, complete with two levels and a wide front porch, white paint splashed everywhere. A grey, cement path leads from their parking job to wind around the side and back; an odd place for a garage, but at least the path is decorated by colorful planters and shrubs. At the front of the home, windows litter the entire plane and light up what little they see of the interior.

The house isn’t bad on the outside, but it is an impressive difference from Gavin’s old home. It’s almost got a Southern farmhouse charm, Gavin muses, when a low whistle and some gravelly steps creep up. It takes Gavin out of his examination of the house, peripherals catching the sight of tattooed arms.

“Your grandfather gave you...this?” Geoff mumbles under his breath, eyes running over the house. He shoves his hands in his pockets – an indicator of a less than pleasant thought running in his mind, as Gavin’s learned over the years. Geoff looks dubious. “Are you sure this is the right place?”

Gavin rolls his eyes, nudging Geoff’s shoulder. “It’s the only house in this area of the land, you twat. Used to be a literal farmhouse, but when Grandad bought it in retirement days, he turned it into this.”

He can see Geoff process the information slowly, before the man shakes his head in disbelief. It’s not an incorrect reaction, really.

“It’s just that...this house doesn’t look like what I expected. I mean, your crazy bastard of a grandfather raved about hauntings here before he had to be carted off,” Geoff says. “I thought it’d look more...rusted and abandoned. Like a place that Alfredo wouldn’t enter, calling it a ‘white people horror movie’ again.”

Geoff pauses. His eyes rove around the building frequently, unable to reconnect Gavin’s grandfather’s stories with the polished home. “Guy went mental for the last decade of his life about demons. And now, he’s actually passing it down to one of his grandkids? Full offense, Gav, it doesn’t sound like a good thing honestly.”

Gavin is by no means a strong believer in the supernatural (not like Geoff), but he’s not stupid enough to completely cross of their existence. The supernatural is just like the extraterrestrial in his eyes – no ways to prove them, no ways to disprove them. It’s just him and his belief, and the truth is that there is no truth. The only proveable thing here is Gavin’s unwillingness to be an asshole to potential creatures who could fuck him over.

“It’s a nice house, I’ll give your grandpa that, but fuck. There must’ve been some truth to what was spouting off before he died! The house hadn’t managed to be bought by anyone here for a reason.” Geoff grimaces. He runs a hand through scruffy hair, concern laced in his twisted expression, before he crosses it across his chest. His leg is jittering, posture tense, and eyes unable to stop watching everywhere; he looks ready to bolt.

Gavin looks over the house again – takes in the white color with blue accents, the tall and graceful beauty it objectively is. In another universe, people would’ve been fighting for a chance to own the home; Gavin would have even called the place homey enough to start a life there, a soft charm hidden in the place and large enough to host a nuclear family. His grandad did a good job of building the place.

But as it stands, Gavin’s internal praise clashes with the horrific ravings from a man on his deathbed. The same man who built a home with bare hands and destroyed it with his delusions.

“I know you’ve already paid for the movers, and the truck is coming soon, but…” Geoff pauses, mulling over his words. If the situation hadn’t been so fraught with the unknown, Gavin would have poked fun at the constipated expression. “You don’t have to move into the house, y’know? You could have just accepted it from your man’s will, but let it rot unused. Hell, I don’t mind paying for more movers to truck your stuff back to my place.”

“Aw, Geoffrey, you’re really that concerned for me that you’d pay for something?”

Geoff flicks Gavin’s nose, and he huffs when Gavin whines to clutch at the affected area. “Don’t be a baby, it was barely anything.” He rests his hands on his waist, looking imposing for once; a protective nature and fear of the unknown could do wonders to people. “I’m afraid of anything supernatural, and I don’t like the thought of you living where there could be something like it lingering here. Maybe it’s Southern superstition, but…”

“Geoffrey–”

“Look, maybe I’m coming off as too much but I don’t want you dying on me. You’re basically my kid, Gav, and I’m already a crybaby at the thought of you moving out. I don’t want to be an even bigger crybaby at your funeral.”

Something inside Gavin sobers up at hearing Geoff sound so genuine. Living with Geoff for nearly a decade now, he’s closer to Geoff than anyone else; he knows Geoff’s love language is all about what he does for people, not what he says. For Geoff to voice out such a sentiment, his concern is strong and raw, ready to take any hits for Gavin’s sake. Geoff has always been like that, fatherly and protective in the oddest yet kindest ways.

Gavin bumps their shoulders, keeps close by his surrogate father’s side with a small and crooked grin, and he gives a quick, one-armed hug. Gavin hopes he looks reassuring but judging from the snort on Geoff’s end, he must have missed the target by a mile. Whatever it takes to lift the worry, he reasons for now, even if Geoff will make fun of his face later, when they’re less afraid and more sure.

“I’m not gonna die here, and you’re not getting rid of me that quickly,” Gavin says. “Plus you’re so attached to me that you’re gonna visit me almost every weekend. You’ll keep me alive, if so I only avoid you being mad at me!”

Geoff raises a brow at the assumption, but Gavin finds no sign of denial coming from his end. Instead, there’s an exasperated expression encased in a fondness Gavin’s been used to ever since he started to live with the older. Familiar and reassuring, Gavin doesn’t feel bad at the smirk that’s tugging his lips when Geoff slings an arm around him.

“You really will miss me, huh? I can see it written all over your face.”

“Shut the fuck up. We almost had a decent family moment for once there before we gotta start moving your shit in.”

“Geoffrey, c’mon– Agh, not a noogie! I just fixed my hair this morning! Shit, that hurts!”

////

“Look, you probably deserved that noogie. You just won’t tell me what you did for Geoff to give you one.”

Michael’s voice is tinny over the phone speaker, but the blase tone of his voice is near palpable. He doesn’t seem even bothered by the update, the faint clicking of a controller managing to travel to Gavin’s side; he sounds more annoyed at the death of his character than Gavin’s pain.

“ Michael, that’s mean. You were supposed to be my best friend, my boi,” Gavin whines, leaning close to the phone set on the counter for Michael to hear his misery more clearly. First it’s cleaning dishes after a late dinner and failed game of rock-paper-scissors, and now it’s a best friend betraying him. “You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“Yeah, well, Geoff’s my boss here,” Michael scoffs. “And besides, it’s ‘cus I’m your best friend that I can say that shit. I know you, and I know you like to act like a dumbass.”

“Oi!”

“Look, why else would you live in the house your crazy grandfather left you? Which, by the way, real fucked up considering the stories he told you. Did he hate you or something?” Michael questions.

“W-What? No, he liked me a lot!” A flustered splutter escapes, and Gavin yelps as he nearly drops a plate into the sink; first night here, he doesn’t want to already face a casualty on top of the haunted comments. “Michael, you almost made me drop a plate!”

“Not my fault, butterfingers. I was just askin’ a real question, because your grandad said too much detail for that stuff to not be real.” Michael pauses, and Gavin can’t hear any of the old game noises from before; Michael must have paused the game too. “I don’t believe in it, just like you. But I mean...evidence is evidence, y’know, man?”

And that’s something, isn’t it? Even Michael is hesitant of the place – brave, invincible Michael with more than enough skepticism and with no bone afraid of anything the world throws at him.

With a sigh, Gavin shuts the water off and sets the plate down, lest he nearly drops it again. He shuts his eyes, and he tries to figure out what to say when he’s both for and against the points that both Michael and Geoff had brought up already. It doesn’t help his pounding head, the thought that this house is beginning to feel like a nightmare so soon.

“Speaking ‘bout the house, how is it so far? Any bloody handprints anywhere, or maybe even a few dirt patches in the backyard?” Michael chuckles, an obvious attempt in trying to lift the mood. “Didn’t you say your grandpa left all the original furniture there too? Is it bloodied?”

Gavin turns to lean against the counter, only to wince when he sees the spilled water soaking into his shirt. “What’s your obsession with bloody furniture? Yeah, there’s furniture in rooms like the living room, dining room, patio, but nothing bad. Though the office upstairs has only bare furniture, while the guest bedroom doesn’t have anything!”

“Please tell me you’re going to make Geoff sleep there, on the floor, because that’s fucking cruel but funny.”

“Michael, please,” Gavin scoffs, “I’m making Geoff sleep in the single, furnished bedroom. The one used by my own granddad, before he had to move out to get help.”

Michael barks out a laugh from the other end, and it’s an infectious, bright sort of thing. It makes Gavin feel better against all the supernatural inconvenience about the house.

“You’re colder than I thought,” Michael finally utters through the dregs of his amusement. He settles down with a soft sigh, sounding more serious. “But really, you gonna be okay? You get scared easily in video games, I don’t want you to die of fright in that house, boi.”

A small smile tugs at Gavin’s lips despite the slight swell of exhaustion. As tiring the concerns would get soon, he appreciates the thought from some of his closest friends. Most of them would have never said it in such blunt terms – not when they could express it in punches, noogies, or general tackling. But this situation, the ‘moving about two hours away to a house with evil rumors’ isn’t very much the usual.

“Don’t worry, boi. I should be fine, since I don’t completely believe in that shite. Not yet anyway, I guess if this stuff keeps coming up,” Gavin hums. He gets back to washing the remaining dishes from the earlier takeout dinner, only to get stuck on a piece of stubborn dirt. “Besides, I also have Geoff to use a meatshield.”

A snort of laughter from the other end.

“The guy signs my paychecks, don’t let him die! Not until he gives me a promotion.” Michael sounds relaxed now, and the noises of a video game play again. “Maybe the demon could help a guy out here with some money. Like, I dunno, make a deal or–”

Thud!

Gavin startles at the noise from upstairs, even more so when it’s followed by a slew of loud cursing. The surprise morphs into fear, and Gavin chucks the plate into the sink, previous concern of breaking it disappearing, as he grabs his phone and sprints up the stairs. His eyes are wide as he follows the yells and almost runs into a doorway, worried about what he might find.

“What the fuck? What the hell was that? Gav?”

Their previous conversation is playing back in his head, Geoff’s anxiety in high definition while Gavin had brushed off the reasonable worries. Thoughts of oh shit, what if, and oh god run as if they’re the credits of a movie, and they blur together like how the world does as Gavin makes his way to Geoff in his soon-to-be office.

His heart thudding and eyes wide, the fact that he only finds Geoff squatted and swearing at a camera on the ground is anti-climactic. Thankfully so, considering the multiple concerns about the house, but Gavin can’t help the groan escaping him. He can already hear the start of Michael’s concerned bitching, asking for some sort of answer with expletives about being a British asshole and an Alabaman douchebag.

Out of all the things to happen here—

“Geoff, you bastard, I thought…” Gavin pauses to catch his breath, to calm himself down before he has an aneurysm. “I thought you got taken hostage by a demon or something!”

Geoff’s head jerks up at Gavin’s voice. It takes a moment for the surprise to be washed away with annoyance, processing what Gavin had just said. He waves a fist at Gavin, “Don’t make that sort of jokes with me right now, Gav! I thought I was actually gonna die when I heard the noise.” He grunts, gesturing wildly, “But turns out it was just this fuckin’ camera falling. Scared the shit out of me.”

Gavin shuts his eyes; he doesn’t get mad, not easily at least, but his composure had been slowly being scraped away every minute he spent in the house. Turning away to put off dealing with Geoff for now, he focuses on the still anger-fueled yelling on his phone.

“Gav? Geoff? I swear to fucking god, you better not be playing a prank on me in that demon bitch of a house–!”

“Michael, it’s fine, Michael,” Gavin’s quick to reassure, running a hand through his hair, “it was just Geoff dropping something. We just...got terrified after all the talk of a haunted house, I guess.”

“Really? Jesus Christ, I thought you found a dead body or something! And didn't you say you didn't believe in that shit, like seconds ago?”

“If we did, I’d be screaming, boi,” Gavin says, purposefully ignoring the last tidbit. He hazards a glance back at Geoff, and he huffs when the older man refuses to meet his eyes. “Michael, I’ll call you back after, okay? I gotta talk to Geoff about what happened, and it’s obvious that we’re a little jittery about stuff right now.”

Without waiting for a reply, Gavin ends the call. He’s been friends with Michael long enough to know that the other man’s going to be pissed and will tear him to shreds tomorrow, but that’s a tomorrow issue. That’s for future Gavin to survive, while present Gavin has to deal with an uncomfortable Geoff.

“Sorry ‘bout that, bud,” is the first thing to spill from Geoff’s mouth, less panicked and more sorrowful. He picks up the fallen tech, and his thumbs gently examine the outer shell of the camera, running over every groove to catch any possible damage. “I thought I put the camera in the middle of the desk, but I guess I bumped into it pretty hard.”

He looks over it once more with a furrowed brow, before he hands it back to Gavin. Geoff shoves his hands in his pockets and tries to avoid eye contact with Gavin, tries to stay away from any more contact with the camera. “I don’t see any outside pieces ruined at least. Maybe it was more of a loud noise than actual damage.”

Gavin pores over every part he can see with a pointed intensity, his fingers examining the sensitive planes. There’s a thin scratch right at the corner, and he figures that’s where it must have come into contact with the floor first; at least nothing popped off or went screwy, he thinks as he fiddles with clicky buttons and rolling adjusters. A moment later, he boots the camera up, finding nothing wrong with the screen — thankfully — before he takes a candid shot of Geoff without warning.

“Woah! Gavin, what the fuck?”

“This dumb photo of you is your payment for dropping my camera, Geoffrey,” Gavin grins. No damage done, no reason to stay mad. It’s one less thing to worry about after the flurry of shit that this house has left on Gavin’s life already. “Besides, had to check if the photo taking was okay or not! Nothing bad, luckily.”

He turns the camera to show the preview screen on the back; in bright digital record, Geoff’s face is contorted into a horrible confused and fucked-up expression as his movements blur him partially. The flash had been on too, and it illuminates all the wrong curves of Geoff’s face. “Well, besides your face at least. But hey! This should be your photo on the company site. What a trustworthy face of a founder of a multimillion company.”

“Gavin, don’t you dare send this to Burnie–”

“I’ll think about it,” he interrupts. “Besides, maybe the photo will expose the demon or ghost supposedly living here with me. What if it ends up behind you in the photo?”

“Don’t fuckin’ say that, dickhead!”

Geoff shudders at the mention of the supernatural stories of the area, eyes glaring at the empty space of the office and shoulders hunching up. It’s almost as if he believes he could see whatever was terrorizing the place with a dirty look, maybe even cleanse it with his fear scent and fatherly protection of Gavin.

Gavin ignores the glare, and he continues to peer at the image of Geoff. It really does look like a photo he can use against the older man for pranks, but his brows furrow when he catches something that shouldn’t be present. A quick swipe to remove dirt from the screen and rapid blinking to clear his sight yields no change.

His eyes can’t tear itself away from the corners of the photo where shadows almost form a vignette around Geoff. Dark and misty, its presence is almost ominous with the rumors from his grandfather bolstering a small curiosity inside him. But a shake of his head to dispel those thoughts, and Gavin is back to a normal looking photo – no shadows present.

He frowns, but he doesn’t question it; it must have been his earlier jab at Geoff getting into his head. It’s probably nothing but a damaged internal piece he can’t reach for now or a few dead pixels on the screen, forming after the camera’s fall. No need to dwell on it or worry Geoff about what Gavin just witnessed or hallucinated; Gavin can stay a skeptic for tonight.

////

Gavin wakes up late the next day after staying up until two am to finish setting up his bedroom. Though bedroom is giving it more credit than it’s actually worth if he’s honest, Gavin grumbles.

He sits up from his mattress on the floor, and there’s a dull ache running down the length of his back, near his spine. A few twists and cracks of his body settle the ache down, but sleeping on the hardwood floor with a thin mattress isn’t doing his back any favors. He doesn’t want to focus on the impending inevitability of aging, and just thanks the world for letting him get some good sleep.

Busy from his sudden, morning crisis, Gavin hadn’t looked around his room. It’s not until he stands up, rubbing at his eyes and scratching a patch of his happy trail, that he realizes what a fucking mess it’s turned to.

Almost every box of his personal items is opened, its contents strewn about in a haphazard manner — as if someone had been rummaging through them to search for something that they themselves didn’t know. Clothes, books, personal hygiene; anything he could think of, there was at least one item of it littered the floor. And looking around, Gavin fears all of his socks have lost their matching significant other. The worst part of the entire scene, really.

He groans, wondering why Geoff had to pull a stunt like that already. Did he really think that he could get away with it? Who else is there in the house besides them? The demon?

Gavin yells with a frown, “Geoffrey!” His brows are furrowed as he stumbles out the doorway, still groggy and waking up. He hears the thundering footsteps coming up the stairs, and he pulls a half-hearted scowl as he meets Geoff’s eyes. “D’you really pull a prank on me this morning? Now my entire room is a mess, Geoff, and it didn’t look like that when I went to bed!”

Geoff reels back. “Huh, the fuck you mean I pulled a prank? If I wanted to pull a prank, I would’ve signed my name on it and drawn a dick,” he defends. “When would I’ve had the time to do it anyway? I’ve been busy all day unpacking shit and cooking you lunch, asshole!”

“Then how did this happen, when I opened the one box to get to my clothes?!” Gavin steps out of the doorway and gestures behind him, arms flailing in wild arcs and an irritated temperament. “I fell asleep in a clean room!”

Geoff pokes his head through, and Gavin sees the way Geoff’s eyes widen; he turns his head every which way, taking in the state of the bedroom, before he hears the muttered swear under Geoff’s breath. They trade glances and vague gestures, as if it’d clear up whatever happened or maybe even the room itself. It’s after a minute when Gavin pauses and finally realizes the slow building confusion on Geoff’s face.

“Christ...you didn’t do it, did you?” It’s posed as a question, but there’s nothing uncertain in his tone. He falters, staggering back to press his hands to his face and leaning against the wall next to his bedroom door. “So, then it had to be me? But I really did only open up the one box for sleep clothes…”

He mumbles incoherently trying to track down exactly what he did yesterday, going so far to count all the different actions on his fingers.

“Look, Gavvers, it wasn’t me for sure, but if you don’t remember doing it, it might not be you either,” Geoff says. He fiddles with the constantly present bracelets on his wrists at Gavin’s inquiring look. “I know there’s only the two of us here, so shit dictates that it had to be one of us who did this. But maybe shit was wrong, and there could be a way to not be us?”

Gavin squints. It takes a moment for his brain to process stuff. “What are you on about? I just woke up, and I’m still too tired for this, Geoffrey–”

“What is there to not get? I’m saying it could be the actual demon or ghost or whatever living here! It’s trying to fuck with us, or get us out of here!”

“Geoff,” Gavin whines. He doesn’t have the energy to deal with this right now, even if he did just wake up from a decently long sleep; hell, he doesn’t have the energy to deal with anything supernatural now or ever. Again, he doesn’t believe in them, not like how Geoff does, and he hasn’t done anything to piss anyone off besides Geoff himself — there’s no way it could be a demon or whatever. He’d be dead by now.

All it took was a good sleep to remind him of that after yesterday's fiasco and Michael's question. There probably is nothing unusual here, just paranoia.

“It probably was just me, alright? And no, no, don’t give me that look,” he huffs, giving up on his counting fingers mission to cross his arms. “I’ve sleep walked before, done some weird crap during it, and this might be one of those moments. You’ve seen how forgetful I could be sometimes, even if I did do this before I slept last night.”

Geoff still looks wary. His eyes can’t stop darting between Gavin and the trashed room. “I’m just saying it could be a possibility, so we can both be aware of it,” he reasons as he reaches to hold onto Gavin’s wrist gently. “It doesn’t hurt to be careful, kid. I’ve always been told horror stories of the supernatural, and there ain’t no way at least one story isn’t true.”

The irritation and the fight leave Gavin, almost as if a deflating balloon, and Gavin feels smaller standing next to Geoff, like a kid again. Feels more exhausted at the simple sight of Geoff being fearful and worried for his life, but Gavin understands.

It’s exactly like yesterday’s situation when Gavin had stormed up the stairs to get to Geoff after the thud, his closeness with the man fueling his own protective urges. He can’t blame Geoff for it when Gavin had the same reaction, and if anything, it means more — fearful, superstitious Geoff is willing to stay with Gavin in the haunted house just to keep him safe.

"Okay, I’ll be more careful and open about this whole...supernatural business. It probably isn’t anything, but if it’ll keep the gray hairs off you,” Gavin concedes. "You might have to start dyeing your hair, if something does happen!"

Geoff rolls his eyes, but he tucks Gavin close to his side, cheek resting against Gavin’s temple. “You’re such a piece of shit, I can’t believe I agreed to come out here,” he chuckles. He drags Gavin with him down the stairs, humming, “Alright, time to eat lunch now! All the food’s probably gone cold now though, and I’m blaming you for it.”

“Geoff!”

Their bickering continues all the way down the stairs and into the dining room, and the bedroom door behind them closes shut.

#freewood #rtah #ragehappy #seiju writes #i didnt beta this much please forgive my mistakes and just general awful writing

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neshabeingchildish · 5 years

Text

Your Mom

Did not intend to have so many OCs here, but it's a moms-centric chapter and has some other folk you might come across in college - friends, coworkers and stuff. I gave Charlotte’s mom the name Rosemary and Jasper’s mom the name Pansy. Bear with me. Sorry. ILU thanks.

Your Mom

“Are the straights okay?” a friend typed as the caption of a post with a bride grabbing the groom and forcing him into marriage. Charlotte kept scrolling. The straights were not okay for a number of reasons, and that was one of the ones that she didn’t relate to, at all. There’d be no dragging of men to the altar for her. She was almost certain that somebody might have to drag her to one, in order for it to go down, if she was perfectly honest, but she’d lucked out and managed to find a decent man who managed to remake himself into a godsend for her, and she believed it was what she deserved.

Being pampered on her period was one thing, but Jasper’s nurturing was like… constant. He’d figure out that something worked and he would go for it, tried and true and be her rock through just about anything. Some people didn’t like for things to remain the same. They felt like it was stagnant or got stale, but Charlotte hated change. She liked to be comfortable and the rollercoaster of fitting herself into Jasper’s world was one that had been uproarious and uncomfortable. While she hated that he seemed sad that he didn’t have the time to do a lot of the things that he used to, she loved not needing to dress up, go out, small talk or be seen by his friends as a bitch or a buzzkill, interact with people who were way drunker than her, and way stupider, even on their smartest days… Like… She was glad that he was too busy to socialize. But, she also felt bad about it, because Jasper thrived on that energy.

He flourished and blossomed and without it, she was worried that he might wither into his former sadness. SO, she got out of her comfort zone, hated it the entire time and plotted to try to get schedules to arrange a couple’s camping trip with some of his frat bros and their current interests or partners. She felt more comfortable about doing something that they wouldn’t be on campus for and able to invite every stoner and wild child in town, but something that she could also enjoy. Nature, hiking, maybe even a little partying by the campfire, or perhaps, they could rent a cabin! She still had to sort the details out whenever she could figure out when schedules would allow it. But, it also meant speaking with his bosses. Now… The tattoo parlour, it was all good. They loved him. He brought a lot of customers in, and a lot of traffic and they considered him like family - he had that effect on people. But, the internship… It was unpaid and he also hadn’t been there for very long. She did some research to figure out who she might be dealing with. She knew that the guy at the firm who took him on was an alumnus of his fraternity, but she didn’t know much else. A little delving couldn’t hurt. This dude’s name is Bart? He goes by Barty? Wait… Bartholomew Buttkiss? She cackled and kept looking. Typical WASP shit. Involved with more companies than he would ever put on the Internet, children looking like they’re about to do The Purge, grandchildren looking like The Village of the Damned. Game hunting (exotic animals, asshole…), golf (eye roll), lacrosse champion… Jazz enthusiast… “Okay… Maybe I can work with this, Mr. Buttkiss.” Charlotte searched through his profiles and through interviews and really put WAY more time into that than she even had into planning the actual goddamn trip! BUT…

She showed up at the firm, around when Jasper usually took a lunch break (when he might have called her), but early enough that she was able to be there whenever Barty was gonna be heading out for golf with a buddy. Don’t ask her how she found that out… She wore a long jazz festival shirt with cute little musical notes leggings and packed a huge basket of treats, including some peach tarts, old Barty’s faves and she came up to the desk as she saw him coming from out of the work area. “Hi!” She said to the receptionist, “Hoping that Jasper Dunlop is available for lunch. I can certainly wait, if he’s not, but I hope it’s possible to let him know that Charlotte is here. I brought some treats for your troubles.” She set the basket on the desk and opened it to let the smell out. “I recommend the peach tarts. They’re homemade.”

Barty headed over to the desk and asked, “I’m sorry, what’s happening here?”

Charlotte smiled at him and offered her hand, “Hi! I’m Charlotte. My fiance is an intern here. I’m trying to treat him to lunch, a little surprise. I brought enough treats at least for a few people.”

“You said that you’ve got peach tarts, huh?” Barty asked and looked into the basket, then helped himself. He made a bunch of obnoxious noises that she almost broke character behind, before declaring, “These are some of the best peach tarts I’ve ever tasted! You made these? Mmmm.” He grabbed another.

“I did! I didn’t know what to make, so I have a selection of stuff here. Help yourself.”

“Jasper, was it? He’s a good kid. You’re his fiance?” He gave her a lookover, and she couldn’t tell if he was judging her or just looking. “I didn’t realize that he was engaged.”

“It’s new. I’m trying to make sure that I’m a good, supportive woman, you know, but you can’t tell a man anything when he’s used to doing things and being successful. I’m trying to plan a camping trip, for instance, and he INSISTS that there’s no way that he’d ever be able to take the time off. He’s never gonna ask for it, so I have to just do what I can and squeeze in these little moments where I can, you know? Gotta make sure that he knows that I love him enough to bake for the office and set up picnics.”

“Are you gonna be a housewife?”

“In this economy?” She asked, and laughed. “No. I mean, he wants to be the breadwinner, but I’m actually one of the top people in my class and already working professionally in my field, lower level things. We’ve all gotta start someplace, right? I’m at Ridgemont Diagnostics…”

“REALLY?” He was impressed. “Are you a debutante?”

“Oh, no… I’m doing all of it on this,” she pointed to her temple.

“Interesting. Well, listen, when does Jasper need some time off? He’s an intern. It’s not like the place will fall apart without him.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s more like he’s just passionate about proving himself and earning his keep. I was thinking definitely a weekend before hunting season kicks off. Him, some of the fraternity guys and their lovely ladies, just taking a break, you know?”

“Of course. Listen, here… what was your name again?”

“Charlotte Page, Sir.”

He dug into his wallet and gave her a business card. “I want to get that tart recipe from you and you can email me when you want to take Jasper away. AND a jazz fan?” He said, noting her shirt, “I didn’t really know that kid had such good taste. His wardrobe is… interesting. Very nice to meet you.” He grabbed another tart and went on his way. It was a few minutes before Jasper ever came out.

He was smiling, in a simple button shirt with a very bright tie which she said, “Hey, F Sized… Stop wearing ties to work. Or wear like… old man ones that your boss might like.”

“He says that my ties are interesting.”

“Yeah, he told me the same thing. But, it was the way he said it.” He nodded and removed the tie. “So… Just so you know, you’re gonna have a free weekend and you, me, Coogie, Snek, and Fisher are gonna go camping.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I just wooed your boss for a free weekend for you and the fellas are gonna bring a girl and we’re going camping near the mountains.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because you haven’t been able to do anything that you enjoy with your friends, and I knew that I could most likely ask your boss without making it seem like YOU were trying to get out of work. Come on, I’ve got you some maple bacon pies and an extra thick milkshake. It’s thicker than you,” she said and winked at him. Whenever they got outside, she also pinched his butt. “I love that thing,” she said, smiling fondly at it.

Hey, I am taking Jasper on a camping trip with some of his buddies. Can you look at the list of stuff that I’m bringing along and tell me if I left anything off? *Sends list*

Rosemary: Baby, I’ve never been camping before in my life, but I know that you’ve never been ill prepared for anything, a single day of your life. I’m sure if there’s something to think about that you’ve thought about it. Some of that stuff, I wouldn’t have even thought of.

Adanna: Friend, I think that you’re overthinking your relationship every since the ring. You know what’s best for yourself and Jasper. You’ve known for years, from what he’s told me and his dad. He thinks that you’re the smartest person alive and the most caring. Just trust yourself. You don’t need to ask us these things.

Charlotte: I just have never thought that I would ever be a fiancee or wife and it seems like I have to, idk, do something above and beyond? No?

Rosemary:You think that I’m over here going above and beyond? Honey, your dad is lucky if he gets my best as exhausting as it is to live with a man. As long as you love him, that will show up in how you treat him and what you do. There doesn’t need to be extra stuff…

Charlotte started another chat, with just her mother and Adanna: Okay… but, Jasper has a very rocky childhood and his family wasn’t really very loving, so I feel the way that I feel because I feel like I have to still undo some of the programming he’s had of what love is. I’ve sent him “I love you” messages before he goes to bed, every single night for almost 4 years now, just to try to get it in his mind that who loves you is the person who does nice things for you and to you. I have reminders in my phone to give him compliments, just as a self esteem booster, even though I know he gets plenty of fan love or whatever. I just… wanna do this right, you know? I didn’t wanna say all that in front of his mom.

Rosemary: Would she even care?

Charlotte: I don’t know, but he would. That’s his mom. He’ll always love her, no matter what.

Rosemary: I dread my grandchildren being exposed to somebody like that.

Adanna: Why don’t you have everyone over and try to speak with her about the things that are unresolved?

Charlotte: Like… everyone? Why not just you and Mom?

Adanna: Sure, that sounds good to me.

Rosemary: I’ll do anything for you, Charlotte. She’d better watch herself…

She planned it for after the camping trip, which was fine. She wasn’t super excited to spend time with Jasper’s friends, but somehow, they were all so much more bearable than they usually seemed. Maybe everyone was growing up now, but not too much. All the ladies kept asking about wedding details and Jasper loved dishing about that, while Charlotte just kind of smiled uncomfortably, not wanting to admit that she didn’t know half this information and sort of having to bond with the fellas anytime it started up. “How’d he finally convince you?” Fisher asked. “I wanna know what to avoid.” He winked at her and she rolled her eyes. He simply clanked his beer bottle against hers and took a drink.

“I’ve known for a while that I’d be with Jasper for a long time, if he remembered that I care, and he eventually did.” She shrugged her shoulders and took a sip of her rose beer (which was the only beer that she drank); she was a wine or daiquiri girl.

“Well, he initially told us whenever he first mentioned you that you were the woman he wanted to marry. I’m talking when we were pledging. He was all stressed out and sweaty, worried about the amount of time and energy he had to put into pledging. I thought he was crazy, but then we saw you and I was like, Ahhh, I get it now.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“That you’re hot,” he said and smiled. She pursed her lips and looked at him. “What?”

“You’re the dude who had everyone calling me Warden Page freshman year!”

“So?” She scoffed and shook her head. “Anyway, when are you two getting married?”

“Probably after senior year. I’ll still have some studies, but by that time, Jasper will probably be restless being a fiance and want to get the official stuff done.”

“When you say senior year, you mean like after next year, or after Big Dog gets the rest of his credits?” She looked confused. “With the whole major change thing…?”

“Oh! Oh, that!” She had no idea wtf he was talking about, “Yeah. Probably after THAT. The whole major thing…” She stuffed the bottle back into her mouth, finished and said, “I’m gonna go to the cooler for another. You need one of yours?”

“Yes, please, Warden Page.” She narrowed her eyes but was smiling gently.

Charlotte waited until after the trip to ask Jasper, “So… what is the whole major thing… something with your credits?” He thought for a moment, then realized that they hadn’t discussed this yet and also that someone must’ve brought it up.

“Okay, I meant to talk to you about it, but I hadn’t figured out how to, just yet.”

“Why not in the same way that you told your bros?” She said, with a tight smile, trying not to be angry. Whatever this was, they could handle it.

“Well, I told them because I didn’t know if I’d need to stick around and live in the frat house for a little longer, because I switched to a double major and might have to add about a year, probably less! To… to… my transcript…” He looked so worried that she was going to be upset with him, but she was relieved. She didn’t know what she thought that he’d say, but she thought it was about to be awful.

“Okay. Well, next time, please talk to me about things like this. Why… Why don’t we just… Maybe get an apartment together or something? I know that you’re at mine a lot already, but it’s a little small for you to you know, move all of your things in.”

“I’d prefer that we waited until after I’m done with school.”

“Okay… do you also wanna wait until then to get married?”

“Yeah. I think it’s the responsible thing to do, right?” He gave her a half smile, tentative, like he was really waiting on her to answer him.

“Right… But, also… if you’re reconsidering… I get it… I’d you know… understand…”

His eyes grew wide, “You’d understand? I wouldn’t understand that at all. Why would I have second thoughts about being with you?”

“I don’t know. You just were super excited and ready to marry me ASAP, and now, you’re going to school longer, don’t wanna live with me AND want to prolong the wedding date.”

“I don’t want any of those things. I’m trying to make sure that I’m doing right by the woman who says that she’ll have me for the rest of my life. That’s something I take more serious than anything else. We’re gonna be a family, build a family… I’m not gonna build it on immature mistakes and hollow hopes. I’m… trying to do the work to be good enough.”

“You’re beyond good enough.”

“Good enough to feel good about it all. If we get an apartment and I have to cut corners somewhere, or accumulate debt or something - that affects us negatively and I just… I’m not doing that. I refuse to do that. I’m gonna be a good man, but also a real man.”

“You’re already that, Jasper. Never forget this, please?” She gave him a hug and kissed him on the chin, then grabbed a handful of butt. It was right there, so she kinda had to.

“I appreciate the level of butt stuff that I’ve gained by proposing,” he said and pulled her in by hers to kiss her. She didn’t know what he was talking about. She’d been playing on that donk since year one… She used to bounce stuff off of it.

Henry had the pleasure of bringing Jasper’s mom to Charlotte’s. Rosemary and Adanna rode together and pulled in shortly before Henry did. Henry and Jasper rushed to hug each other upon his arrival and Henry had a huge binder with material, colors, etc… stuff that you just wouldn’t be able to see very well on the computer or phone. He said he’d go say hi to Char and Jasper smiled towards his mother and said, “Thank you so much for coming. It really means a lot to us that you made the time.” She nodded, but didn’t offer anything else. But, whenever Rosemary and Adanna got out of Adanna’s van both women squealed happily and rushed to hug him.

Charlotte sighed from the window as Henry came in and looked over her shoulder. “Whatcha lookin’ at?”

She shook her head, “She didn’t even try to hug him. Everybody hugged him BUT her. This is the type of stuff that I have to help him through. She doesn’t even TRY! Why have a kid?”

“At least she only had one.”

The others came inside and Adanna immediately placed her hand over her heart, “I love the energy in this place, so much.” Rosemary hugged her daughter, then Adanna and Charlotte pulled Pansy into a hug, whether she wanted it or not. Jasper wrapped his hands around Charlotte’s waist from the back and said, “Let me know if you need anything.” He kissed her on the cheekbone and said, “I’m gonna look at this wedding stuff Hen’s got.” Lady and Tramp came running out of the bedroom and Jasper called them over to him, and he and Henry each grabbed one and went out to the patio with them and their stuff.

“Want a drink or anything?” Jasper wondered.

“What have you got?”

“Juice or like all kinds, water, and I’m sure Char has some wine and rose beer.”

“Rose beer? That sounds gross. Is it gross?”

“No idea. I don’t drink, Man.”

“Oh yeah. I mean, I know you don’t drink, but you haven’t curiously tasted it or anything?”

“Naw. I don’t need to put that shit in my body,” Jasper said, petting Tramp’s head. Really, he was afraid of drinking. What if he had a problem with it, like his dad? He wasn’t gonna risk Charlotte the way that Jack Leigh had risked he and his mom. Speaking of, he glanced into the living room to see Charlotte inviting the ladies to be seated and letting them know what refreshments she had available.

“There’s sweet potato bites, varying garnishing like avocado, tomato and radish sprouts, or ricotta, cranberry walnut… I couldn’t decide which recipe was better. There’s also cucumber wrapped chicken or seafood with greek yogurt dip… some fruit, and Jasper’s got some goat and lamb in the kitchen… for dinner, with the sides and stuff. Anyway! There’s also spritzers.”

“Charlotte, relax. Have a seat,” Rosemary advised. “We’re not hard to please. We’re here to support you, not for food.”

“Thanks, Mom.” She sat down and asked Jasper’s mom, “How are you? How was the drive?”

She looked put on the spot, but answered politely, “Henry drove. It was fine.”

Charlotte nodded and smiled, then sat back in her seat. “Jasper took off tonight from the parlor, so that he and Henry could catch up, but he’s probably gonna pop in and out of here, just because he worries a lot. I’m thinking of suggesting that he moves on up to an in-person therapist. He’s been doing the therapy text service for years now and I think it’s been super helpful, but I really think that he could benefit more from someone face to face.” Pansy squirmed a little, but she didn’t say anything. “For instance, he told me that he just wants to get everything right, he doesn’t wanna get a divorce or remarry or anything like that, so he’s tacked on some more courses and we’re not going to get married or officially move in together until after that’s done.”

“That sounds like a wise choice!” Rosemary offered.

“It is, but it's not Jasper, you know? He’s impulsive. He’s very take action. He doesn’t usually plan it out this way.”

“That’s your influence, Sweetheart. Be proud of it.”

“I just really want us to be married already!” Charlotte said and was embarrassed after she did.

“Oh my God… Are you pregnant?” Pansy sat up abruptly and asked.

“What? No! I have a perfect GPA and educational and career trajectory. If I get pregnant, it’s gonna be on purpose, even with your son’s virility.”

Rosemary recoiled, “What does that mean?”

Casually, Charlotte said, “Oh, I took a sample from him to test it in the lab. He is extremely fertile. We won’t have any issues whenever we’re ready to create children… I just really love him and ever since he proposed, all that I can think about is what it’s gonna be like to be his wife. I know that isn’t very feminist, but he’s the kind of person that you just know will be excellent at these things. I’m slightly impatient about it and now it’s being pushed further away.”

Rosemary smiled and told the others, “I know what’s happening here. Whenever Jasper proposed, Charlotte’s brain plotted out a timeline of events and she maybe even made a vision board shortly afterwards to factor in that she now was gonna be a wife, and she’s made the adjustments and committed them to memory. She likes comfort and a huge change is making her uncomfortable, therefore, anxious. All she needs is a new plan of action for her timeline, but she does not like to have to change plans.”

“Mom, I am VERY versatile. I’ve had to make a lot of adaptable changes at work.”

“Changes that affected your home life?” Her mom asked. Charlotte frowned and grabbed a sweet potato. “Thought so. So… where do things change, on your last timeline?”

"I THOUGHT that I was getting married in less than a year… but now it's closer to two years."

"Have you told Jasper about how much you want to marry him sooner?" Adanna asked.

"No. I could tell he was serious about the route that he wants to go and I wanted to make sure that I don't persuade him into anything that he might resent me for later. He's very… afraid of making mistakes with serious stuff. I can't pressure him knowing how scared he is of failing."

"You don't pressure him. I'm suggesting just telling him how you feel."

She looked at his mom, "What do you think about it?"

"I think that kids get married so quickly these days and then they just fall apart. It's better to wait." Rosemary rolled her eyes and Pansy quickly tacked on, “I did the same thing and it affected my only child for the rest of his life and affected my life, too. So, I’m just throwing caution into the wind. Be sure that it’s what you are willing to do, not just what you think that you want.”

“My daughter makes good decisions,” Rosemary said.

“I’m sure.”

“What do you mean, “I’m sure?” Rosemary asked, her eyebrows up in challenge.

Pansy sighed and said, “She makes good grades and what-have-you. I don’t doubt that she’s a smart girl. I also know that being smart isn’t the only qualifier for being a good wife or good partner…”

“What are the other qualifiers on your list, Miss Pansy?” Charlotte asked and Rosemary leaned in closer, with pursed lips staring almost directly into Pansy’s face. Charlotte tried really hard not to snap, but since BEFORE she and Jasper were together, when she hadn’t even been a consideration, this woman had an issue with her and she was convinced it was because she was too brown for her liking, but she wanted to hear her admit to something, since they had the air and opportunity.

“Well, you have to be willing to put up with a lot. Jasper is very needy and demanding. You’ve gotta have a lot of patience. He’s sweet, but not the smartest boy around and can haphazardly jump into unwise decisions. He wants a lot of attention and validation, and can be extremely exhausting about it…”

“Ever think that was because he was starved for those things?” Charlotte reflexively asked. Pansy gasped and Rosemary snorted. Adanna covered her mouth with a hand, but didn’t react beyond that. Charlotte was there, now. The woman had taken her there. “Listen, I can’t say that you made bad decisions. I don’t know your heart or your mind. I don’t know your intentions. What I can say is that I know Jasper. He’s NOT needy and demanding. He wants someone to show him love and he deserves that, so to me - that isn’t a burden. He’s VERY smart. But, he doesn’t know everything. He was semi-sheltered and didn’t have a frame of reference for a lot of stuff, but whenever he had the chance to go out into the world and learn and experience things, instead of having conversation topics and true facts withheld from him, whether out of misplaced protectiveness or shirking uncomfortable responsibility - Jasper is an all A student who is seen as an activist in this town. He’s a community leader. He still has weird ideas sometimes, but he’s also helped reformed a lot of things around here that a lot of these people didn’t have the drive or the heart to ever face head on and try to tackle. And it isn’t exhausting that he wants lots of attention and validation. It's heartbreaking, because I know for a fact that he didn’t get it from home and I know that I have to be one of the most present and stable suppliers of it, because even though he’s shown everyone that none of the things you just said about him are accurate, you still treat him that way, and your his mom, the person that he would most want to treat him how he deserves to be treated. He has to get that from Internet fame, from campus popularity, from town celebrity, and whenever he comes home to me, it still wasn’t what he was looking for, because he wants it real, from somebody that he loves. Currently, that’s me. I’m that supply. We’ve been together almost 4 years now, and you have yet to tell him that you’re proud of him, or that he’s made a good decision, or that you LOVE him, WITHOUT invalidating it shortly after with some contradictory behavior. You have yet to tell him that you’re happy for him, for winning competitions and trophies, and making dean’s lists and having a hand in public policy reform. Are you… a fucking soulless monster?” Charlotte’s voice cracked. Rosemary was ready to fight, now. Hurting your own child was bad enough, but now she had spread her malice to Rosemary’s child and that wasn’t something that Bolton folk tolerated.

Jasper had peeked into the room and saw Charlotte’s face and told Henry he’d be back. The woman turned whenever the patio door opened and Jasper threw a pissed off glance in Pansy’s direction, certain that whatever was wrong with Charlotte, she was the cause of it. “Babe, you okay?” He asked, in a gentle tone and went right to her, collecting her hands and trying to get her to make eye contact with him. “Come on, let’s regroup, okay?” He helped her up and brought her into the bedroom. Their mothers began to quietly bicker about what had just happened and what had been happening. Jasper sat Charlotte on the bed and told her, “If you want her to leave, I’ll go tell her to leave, right now. No questions asked.” He cupped her cheek. “She can hurt me all she wants, but I draw the line at her hurting you. You do too much and you don’t deserve that.”

“You don’t either.”

“I know, I know, but…”

“But she’s your mom and you love her? But, what? She raised you? At least she was there? Please, help me understand why she’s so important to you that she gets to hurt you for 22 consecutive years and be brought along with you while you try to break out of the cocoon of that strife?”

“I… will let her go, if that’s what you think I should do.”

“I don’t… That’s not what I’m trying to do - make you feel like you need to let your mom go. I just want to understand it.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “Well… I want to know that I did everything in my power to make sure that she felt like I was worth it. I want to feel like IF I ever did have to leave her behind, there was no other choice. I just don’t like the thought of leaving somebody behind just because they’re not who you’d want them to be. She didn’t do that to me. She kept me close, and she could’ve given me up. She let relationships fall apart whenever her husbands didn’t want me. She… wasn’t perfect, but she tried. I think that she’s been hurt, too. And she doesn;t have anybody else to tell her to contact a therapist, or focus in hard on loving her, and trying to build with her… I’m it. I’m all that she has. My stepdad doesn’t even look at her anymore. I know how it feels to have people around and still feel lonely. I don’t want that for my mom, no matter if she’s not nice to me. No matter if she might deserve that. Because, what if she doesn’t? What if there’s something that we just don’t know and she doesn’t know how to tell us? I just… don’t want to hurt anybody like that. Not even her.”

“But, you would, if you thought that was what I wanted?”

“I would do what was best for you, if I had no other options, yes.”

She sighed and shook her head, “I’d never ask you to sacrifice your morals. I just hate that those are what brings you pain.” She cupped his face and they kissed. As though kissing could release every bit of stress and turmoil carried into the room and nothing else could. It was a moment before Jasper noticed that they weren’t alone. He broke the kiss and turned to stare at his mother, who was staring at the ground. Charlotte’s eyes followed, then she rolled them and got up to leave. Pansy caught her wrist, gently, then quickly let go.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a quiet voice. That was new. She let go of Charlotte and looked up at Jasper. Charlotte stuck around. “I should have been better to you, for you. It’s entirely possible that I resented you, because of Jack… That’s not fair and nobody ever wants to admit it. We want to think that we did our best and that we were good parents. We make a ton of excuses. Mine being, at least I was around, at least I wasn’t a drunk who almost killed him in car, at least I didn’t hang out with potheads and shady musicians and witches!” Jasper was speechless. She came into the room and sat next to him. “I hated your father. I still hate him. Whenever I agreed to let him see you, I hated it, but it seemed like what you wanted, so I tried. He was cordial. He seemed like he was changed, like he was trying… then he showed up one day with this WOMAN who he’d met through Roscoe Bolton, of all people!”

“You mean Adanna? The nicest woman in the world, who he met through Uncle Rox, the coolest dude in the world?” Jasper corrected her.

“I mean Adanna, who I recognized as a woman who built up a witch shop on her marijuana revenue, who he met through one of the only people that I’ve ever hated as much as Jack!”

“Wait. You hate MY uncle? Everybody loves my uncle, and it doesn’t make sense to me because he’s always been kind of a wreck until a few years ago, but what did you have against my uncle?”

“He wasn’t good company!” Pansy practically squealed. “He didn’t make Jack do anything, so it’s not like I blame him for Jack’s discrepancies, but first of all, he was a shady musician, always convincing Jack to come with him on tours for weeks, despite knowing that he had a pregnant wife at home who needed him…”

“You also needed money and Dad’s job wasn’t making enough. Those tours were!” Jasper fussed, defensively. She’d hit a nerve bringing Uncle Rox into this, especially after whatever she’d done to upset Charlotte.

“I would have preferred to struggle a little bit than to be lonely and depressed while I was pregnant. And Roscoe kept introducing him to women, who like I said, it’s not his fault, but why even do so? Just remind him to call me. Why is it so hard to just say, ‘I know we’re touring, but don’t forget why you’re doing this?’ You know why? Because he understood, like Jack did that the only reason he married me was because of you and when I saw that he was still communicating with that man and still meeting women through him, I figured he was probably still going on tours, smoking pot, drinking, losing himself in the arms of some pretty thing and trying to clean up for his visits and I-” She clenched her fists. “I wasn’t going to be that stupid anymore. I didn’t expect to take my anger out on you. I didn’t expect to treat you like you were Jack and I didn’t expect to treat your friend like she was Roscoe, but whenever I saw the two of you together, all I could think about were the nights that all I got was a drunken phone call asking about my son, who I was at home with, by myself, stressed, depressed, infuriated and barely holding it together, while he partied and drank and couldn’t hold down a decent job to save his miserable life. You came home one day, and said that you met this cool dude, your friend’s uncle. You were so excited to meet him and you thought he was so cool and looked up to him and I knew who he was and I told you to stay away from him. You ignored me. You never ignored me, but you did… Like your father.”

“Okay,” Charlotte interrupted, sick of this, “I get that. I would be extremely pissed off at people who affected my life in that way too, but Jasper didn’t do that to you.”

“I realize that. I’m not making any excuses. I’m just… trying to… open up to my son…”

Charlotte sighed and said, “Okay. Jasper, I’m gonna be out here, if you need me.” She didn’t want to hear any more of this, but Jasper looked worried about her leaving. “Unless you want me to stay?”

“Please?” He asked, in a low voice. She returned to his side and wrapped her hands around his, looking at his crying mom with zero sympathy. As far as she was concerned, the woman was turning things around and what she just needed to say were a few things: I was wrong. I’m sorry. You deserve better. I will do better. Charlotte didn’t give a damn about any other words. But, she looked at Jasper’s empathetic face. He did. He gave a damn about this woman. He always would. THIS was one of those sacrifices that people spoke about. Because, there was no way that she could be with him and not have to put up with this chick, at least sometimes. She freed one of her hands to stroke his hair and it broke his trance a little bit. He glanced at her and smiled, his eyes lit up and for a moment, he forgot that he was listening to this sob story from the person who had hurt him for most of his life.

“I’m so sorry. I was wrong and I don’t know how to fix it, but I want to try. That’s why I’ve been trying to be involved and why I’m here. I just want to do better in the future…” Pansy eventually uttered. Charlotte could almost visibly see a huge weight lifted off of Jasper’s chest and shoulders and mind… Like… She could visually spot the worry lines evaporate and see the insecurity melt away. It was extremely weird, but beautiful. And, she still didn’t have a fuck to give about that lady, but the way that Jasper hugged her, the comfort that he took in that declaration, whether or not Charlotte trusted it, it made her heart swell. He deserved those things. And she’d better be true about trying to give them to him.

#A Chasper Fic #chasper #henry danger #hd fanfic #Nesha HD Fics

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peridoll-movedagain · 6 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Steven Universe (Cartoon) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Amethyst/Peridot (Steven Universe) Characters: Amethyst (Steven Universe), Peridot (Steven Universe) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Human, Halloween Summary:

Autumn Amedot Week Prompt 1; Halloween. A Halloween night that was meant to be fun turns nightmarish as Peridot faces the ultimate horror movie scenario.

(I’m not really 100% happy with this, but I really wanted to do SOMETHING for Amedot Week, so here we are.)

FULL FIC UNDER THE CUT AS WELL

“Hey, it’s me. If you’re a telemarketer, please leave me alone. Otherwise, leave a message after the beep. Maybe I’ll get back to you in the next millennia, but you really should just message me on Facebook. What’re you doing calling my phone, anyway? What is this, the early 2000s? Who do you think I-” The message tone cut off the girl with its blaring beep, and Peridot rolled her eyes.

“Amethyst, it’s Peridot,” Peridot started, giving Pumpkin’s leash a light tug to guide her away from a temptingly muddy puddle on the grassy side of the sidewalk. She scuffled along in her hard-soled slippers, her costume makeup already done. The Pomeranian bounced on ahead of her, sniffing at a small bush with shriveled flowers. “You were supposed to be at my house two hours ago! Where are you?! We’re already late for the party as it is, but now you’ve marred yourself as a completely unreliable ride! Anyway, call me back when you get this message so I know you’re not dead in a ditch. Or text me, whatever.” With a huff, Peridot aggressively tapped the hang up button and stuffed her phone into her sweatshirt pocket as a gust of cool night wind buffeted against her hooded head.

It had rained all day but despite the swamped yards and treacherous, pot-hole filled roads, trick-or-treaters young and old braved the neighborhood streets. Half of her own bowl of candy had already been picked through. Peridot hadn’t even planned to be at home this year, she was supposed to be at a party away from yelling children. Instead, she had been answering the door over and over and over for two hours straight, and finally said fuck it and escaped out the back door with her pet, leaving the bowl of candy to the mercy of children who didn’t understand the meaning of ‘take two’!

Admittedly, the young woman felt a little dorky out and about with a faceful of makeup by herself. She feared some people thought she was a middle schooler on the prowl for candy as well, but she was 22 and far too old for such traditions… At least to be doing it by herself. ‘No,’ she thought to herself, ‘Seriously, I’m way too old to be trick-or-treating. Yeah, Halloween parties with like-minded adults dressed in overly sexualized costumes of mustard bottles is more my speed… Ugh.’

Amethyst had the audacity to invite her to a cruddy party, insist that it wouldn’t be the same without her, then fall completely off the grid when it came time to pick her up? Her excuse better be that she was dead in a ditch. That would be sufficient enough.

“C’mon, Pumpkin,” Peridot cooed at her dog, whose tail wagged madly in response. “Let’s head back, I guess. Maybe Ames will make an appearance soon…” A shiver ran down her spine as she gazed out into the dark, open street. Leaves swirled into eerie figures in the distance. “…Hopefully.” Suddenly feeling nervous, Peridot scooped up her puppy and cradled her close, speed walking in the direction they had come from. Most of the swarms of costumed children had moved on from this street and onto the next, and her block of houses was nearly abandoned. She could spot her homey one-story abode in the distance and broke into a hurried jog.

She took her front steps two at a time and dug through her back sweatpants pockets with one hand, Pumpkin safely tucked under her arm, frantically searching for her house keys. A presence loomed somewhere nearby, and she swore she heard something shuffling in the brush, but when she glanced back, there was nothing. Shaking her head in hopes of dispelling the irrational paranoia, she then checked her sweatshirt pocket for the keys, but couldn’t find them there either. With a frustrated groan, she descended the stairs once again and went to reach into the cranberry bush beside the rails-

“RAHH!” A masked figure leaped out of the bush beside her, waving around a chainsaw that roared to life. Peridot yelped, jumping back with eyes wide, but a second later grew oddly calm.

“C’mon, Amethyst, you need to try harder than that!” The figure lowered her weapon in defeat, letting the growl of the fake prop die off. She lifted her Jason-styled killer hockey mask from her face, revealing cat whiskers and a severe black winged cat eye. “Everyone knows Jason doesn’t have a chainsaw, that’s Texas Chainsaw Massacre! Get it? Texas Chainsaw Massacre?”

Amethyst cracked a cheeky grin, rubbing her elbow. “Aww, shucks. I thought I could get you pretty good! Why didn’t you shit yourself?”

“Because,” with a snort, Peridot gave her girlfriend a playful shove to the shoulder. “You’re not exactly the most intimidating person, even behind the mask. I mean- you’re scary, just not in that way.” Amethyst’s face dropped, and she pouted.

“You’re too harsh. And critical. And a giant nerd,” with each verbal jab, she poked Peridot’s ticklish sides, making the woman squirm and jerk away.

“Hey, stop that-!” Holding in a bubble of giggles, Peridot escaped the attack and reached back into the cranberry bush for the hidden key that she had velcroed to the side of the staircase. “What’s wrong with you, anyway? Do you know how late you are?” Amethyst snatched Pumpkin from Peridot’s arms, kissing her all over her tiny dog face and cooing sweetly.

“I know, Pumpkin, isn’t Mommy such a hardass? Say it with me, ha-r-d-ass!” The puppy yipped in response, her entire fluffy body wiggling in the girl’s grip. Peridot unlocked the front door at last with a clunk, and she grabbed the now-barren candy bowl that sat on the porch chair.

“Hey! Shut up, you’re the hardass,” the blonde countered, pulling off her hood and letting her messy mop of bleached hair free. “Hold on, I gotta get dressed still.”

“Well come on! Hurry up! What’re you waiting for?!”

“I’m not the one who disappeared for two hours!” Peridot snapped, lingering at the front door entrance as Amethyst hopped up the porch stairs after her. “Where were you, anyway?”

“Oh, you know, just… somewhere.” With a sneaky wink, Amethyst set Pumpkin down on the floor and the puppy scurried off to the living room. Peridot raised a skeptical eyebrow, but decided it would be best not to question further. Instead, she spun around and rounded the corner to the bathroom, where her costume, a knee-length black witch dress, was laid out on the sink counter. She kicked the door shut, then stripped off her sweatshirt and sweatpants, slipping into the itchy dress. She topped off her costume with a large, pointed witch hat, and leaned in close to the mirror to check on her dramatic green eyeshadow and black lipstick. If there was one thing she still adored about Halloween, it was the costumes. Even if she was being dragged to a shitty basement party, it was worth it.

Satisfied with her look, Peridot rushed from the bathroom, tossed a few treats to her pet, and locked the front door. Her ring of keys sat on the side table next to the coat rack, and she cursed herself for forgetting about them before going for her short walk. She grabbed them and popped them into her small shoulder bag, double-checking she also had her phone, then bound out the door. “We’re already late, you know how I feel about that.”

“I know, I know,” Amethyst snorted, taking Peridot’s hand and walking her to the car, where she opened the passenger door and bowed jokingly. “You can’t stand it. How will you be able to go on?” Dramatically, Amethyst slammed the door shut and danced her way around the front of the car to the driver’s seat. Once in, she tossed her prop chainsaw and hockey mask into the backseat, alongside the littered trash and empty bottles of water. Peridot cringed, cautiously picking up a dirty-looking used napkin and chucking it behind her as well.

“I’ll live, but I don’t understand how you function like this.” The engine hacked and coughed its way to life and Amethyst backed out of the driveway, wheels squeaking and the frame of the car trembling from the effort. “Don’t you think it’s time for a new car…?”

“In this economy? Fuck no!” Amethyst retorted, straightening out the struggling vehicle as they got out onto the road. With a content sigh, she reclined back into the cushioned seat and reached a hand over to rest on Peridot’s thigh. “Relax, she’s fine. She’s a fighter, I’ll use her until the day she dies on me.”

Blushing, Peridot intertwined her fingers with her girlfriend’s, stacking their hands on top of her leg. “You’re so stubborn.” “Yeah, but you love it. I know you do.” With a cheeky grin, Amethyst leaned over and planted a sneaky kiss on Peridot’s cheek, which the blonde quickly tried to wipe away, but to no avail. It left a small black stain, from Amethyst’s black upper-lip to imitate a cat’s mouth. Grumbling, Peridot shrugged.

“I guess, if you say so…” She hid a smile by turning her head, gazing out the window as they exited her homey neighborhood and headed out onto the busier main road. “Where is this party, anyway?” To fill the car with some life, Amethyst flicked on the radio, leaving it on a station that was in the midst of a Halloween playlist.

“Up north, about 45 minutes. It’s this old haunted abandoned mansion, I’ve been there before-”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Peridot recoiled, untangling their fingers and holding up her hands in defense. “I thought this was just gonna be one of your jackass basement parties. You didn’t mention the haunted mansion part!”

“It’s fine, you’re worrying too much! I don’t think it’s actually haunted or anything, it’s just a cool little place! It’s atmospheric.” Keeping her cool, Amethyst cranked up the music, successfully drowning out any further complaints that could’ve come from Peridot’s mouth with the hit song Monster Mash. Pouting, the blonde dodged an apologetic shoulder pat, swatting it away. “You’re gonna love it, I promise. We’ll have fun! It’s not even like a normal party. It’s fake-fancy, like there’s gonna be champagne and everyone’s gonna be in costume and in character- I thought you liked that kinda stuff!”

“I do, but…”

“But what? No butts allowed here, missy.” Stopping at a red light, right before the turn onto the highway, Amethyst tilted her head, pursing her lips together. “Don’t be a sourpuss. I invited you cuz I wanted you to come! A black cat needs her witch, and a witch needs her familiar, right? It wouldn’t have felt good if I had gone alone.” Peridot resisted Amethyst’s puppy dog eyes for as long as possible but quickly cracked under the pressure and gave her girlfriend the satisfaction of winning.

“Fine, you’re right. I just- hate scary places is all!” Peridot met Amethyst halfway over the middle console, pressing their lips together in a cold kiss.

“You? The one who binge watches horror movies even when it’s not Halloween? The one who watches these movies in the dark completely alone? You’re afraid of a little haunted house?” Amethyst stole another kiss before the light flickered green, and wrenched her car onto the highway. It whirred and wheezed as she picked up speed to merge into the main lanes. Peridot held on tight to the safety handle above the window.

“It’s- it’s different! All of those movies are fiction, but real life abandoned mansions are actually scary.” Surprisingly, there was very little traffic traveling down the expanse of road. Peridot watched as trees whizzed by, the street lamps doing little to illuminate the pitch black night.

“You’re silly. Why didn’t I scare you earlier, then? I thought I was pretty convincing.”

“Ugh, no. There’s a big difference between Jason Vorhees, you, and an actual murderer. I know you too well, you couldn’t even scare Steven.”

Amethyst scratched the back of her head, fluffing up her deep chocolate brown mane of hair. “Damn, I guess you’re right. I’ll leave the scaring to Jasper. I’m more of a romantic, anyway. Horror isn’t my genre.” The woman lifted her girlfriend’s hand to her lips, eyes wandering from the road ahead of her, and littered ticklish kisses along the back of her hand. Peridot giggled, thoroughly distracted as well.

Peridot spotted a figure standing in the middle of the highway lane in front of them, just out of the corner of her eye. She gasped, yanking her hand away from Amethyst. “Watch out-!” Amethyst jerked the wheel just in time, swerving out of the way of the darkened figure.

In the short second that it was caught in the headlights, Peridot could see it was holding something.

The car crunched as they barreled through the guardrails, and Peridot braced herself as they skidded down the steep incline and into the wooded area lining the highway. The radio turned to static and died out. They crashed into a tree, and the car spun sideways. The impact hit the driver’s side, crushing in the door and shattering the window into shards that flew everywhere. They flipped and tumbled a few times down the rest of the hill, before the vehicle creaked to a stop completely upside down.

Peridot pressed a hand against her pounding head. The airbag had deployed, but she had still banged her head against the side of the car’s frame, and she was bleeding from her forehead. Her seatbelt suspended her to the seat, but gravity pulled her downwards so she managed to undo the belt with a shaky hand. Still in shock, she reached over to tap Amethyst’s shoulder.

“Amethyst, are you okay?” Her heart dropped as she didn’t get a reply for a few seconds, but her girlfriend stirred with a groan.

“Fuck- no. I’m stuck.” As the girl lifted her head up, Peridot flinched as she realized not only did her girlfriend have slivers of glass sticking from her face, but her entire leg had been crushed under the pressure of the bent-in door. The girl tried to move it but hissed in pain, so Peridot gave her a stern shove.

“Stop, I’ll- I’ll call 911. Just leave it, you’re gonna end up ripping your own leg off.” Frazzled but attempting to compose herself, Peridot kicked out the passenger side window, which was already partially shattered, and crawled out the small space. She felt the pierce and prick of glass on the palms of her hands, but fought through the pain and fear until she felt soft grass and brittle leaves. Her witch dress was ripped down the side, enough to show her underwear, but that was the least of her worries as she dug out her phone, knees cold on the hard ground. She could barely dial the numbers, hands trembling as adrenaline pumped through her veins.

“Uh, Peridot…” she heard Amethyst mutter, but as she pressed her phone against her ear she didn’t listen. “Peridot, there’s someone-” Peridot spun her head, ducking to peek into the wrecked car. Amethyst’s gaze drew out her window and up the hill they had just come down. The phone began to ring.

The figure they had nearly plowed right through was approaching, moonlight shining down on them but not revealing any details. Peridot rose to her feet, eyebrows scrunching together in question. “Hey, are you okay? What were you doing standing in the middle of the-”

The figure lifted the blade of a chainsaw into the sky, the silhouette of it stark against the glowing moonlight. It roared to life, and Peridot’s blood ran cold. Her phone slipped from her hand.

“Peridot, run!”

Paralyzed by fear, Peridot froze on the spot and could only watch as the figure broke into a jog, covering the distance between itself and their ruined car. It swung the chainsaw, and sparks flew as it hit the metal, slicing through it like butter and screeching like a banshee.

“I said run!”

Peridot’s legs screamed in protest as she took off, bolting away from the scene and zigzagging through trees. As she faded away into the darkness of the woods, Amethyst’s blood-curdling scream echoed through the space, sending a terrible shiver down Peridot’s spine. She ran and ran and ran as fast as she could, not sure what even laid on the other side of the woods. It could be nothing. This could’ve gone on for forever. But she ran nonetheless, tears pricking her eyes.

‘This isn’t real. This can’t be real.’

Out of breath, the girl hid behind a wide tree, curling up in the indent at the base of the trunk. She covered her own mouth, muffling the cries that wanted to jump from her throat. She sat for what felt like hours but must’ve only been minutes. Slowly, she peeked around the base of the tree and observed the murky darkness. The wind blew through the branches, making the wood creak and moan, but besides that, it was silent. She squinted into the pitch black.

There stood the figure.

She gasped, quickly hiding against the tree again. She squeezed her eyes shut, listening carefully as heavy footsteps circled around her, crunching leaves and twigs beneath its weight. She could’ve run again, but to where? Maybe the figure didn’t see her after all. Maybe this was all a dream. Maybe it was all a prank. She couldn’t put it past Amethyst to pull something so elaborate, especially with some help. Peridot’s heart clenched in terror as she carefully opened her eyes…

The killer stood before her, in one hand holding a bloody chainsaw and in the other Amethyst’s prop. They wore Amethyst’s hockey mask as well, as if to mock her victim. Peridot leaped in surprised as the killer tossed her the plastic chainsaw, toting their own weapon with both hands.

“C…come on now, this is a joke, right?” The killer tilted their head, hand on the chord, ready to rev up the weapon once again. “This is just some sick prank? Who are you, Lapis? Maybe Pearl? You didn’t actually kill Amethyst, right? She’s okay back there, laughing her ass off?” With their head still tilted, as if playing with prey, the figure gave the chainsaw chord a yank, and the engine roared to life once again. Peridot scrambled against the tree. There was no escape, no open space for her to sneak through. Even if she tried, she could be chopped to bits with ease.

“Okay, okay! Seriously! Amethyst, you got me! You got me for real this time, we’re seriously late to the party now! Was this worth it?!” Denial stained her last breaths, and Peridot shielded her face as the massive blade of the chainsaw swopped down towards her.

And it all went dark.

#amedot week #amedot #perifics #periwrites #amedotweek

11 notes · View notes

mortaljin · 6 years

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Anonymous Love

Word Count: 6.6k Warnings: A curse word or two. Genre: Literally this is just fluff. This is pure fluff and the boys being dumb. High School!AU Pairing: ?? x female reader

Summary: One sticky note turns into two, two into four, and then four into dozens. Who in their right mind would confess their love for you, anonymously, via sticky-notes? Why do your seven best friends have shit-eating grins on their faces?

A/N: this plot line is so dumb, but it’s cute nonetheless. Hmpf.

You look beautiful today x

The blue ink that was soaked into the sticky note baffled you; four words and a simple letter left you awestruck at your locker. Slowly, the sounds of shoes against the tiled floors of your high school faded as everyone left for their ventures home. With a swipe of your thumb over the note, the ink smeared and began to stain your skin. This note is fresh. You glanced left towards the arts corridor only to find it empty. When you looked right towards the science corridor, you could hear three sets of voices coming from that direction. Three boys rounded the corner and the sound of genuine laughter filled your ears.

“Y/N!” Kim Seokjin, one of your closest friends, broke from the trio and jogged slightly to envelop you in his daily hug.

“Hi, Jin.” A wide grin, one that wouldn’t have been there three years ago when you entered as a freshman, spread across your face as the other two were now close. “Hoseok, Jimin, what are you guys up to?”

“The same thing we always do, you know!” The sarcasm in the roll of Hoseok’s eyes did not match the energetic smile playing on his lips at the comment.

And you did know. Like clockwork, Park Jimin and Jung Hoseok were no doubt making their way to the dance room. To others, the dufflebags filled with changes of clothes, and miniature speakers would suggest a work out at the gym. You knew though, that for the final year, the two boys in front of you were beginning their dance season; it wasn’t rare to catch you, or anyone else for that matter, sitting on the sidelines watching the duo practice. Unfortunately, you would often find yourself annoyed by one of your favorite songs being played on repeat for hours on end, causing you to lose interest in it quickly. You also often found yourself to be the one the tired boys run to for massages. Telling people you helped them out for the free food they would buy you after their practices would be a lie; you would give them all the shoulder massages in the world, out of the kindness of your heart, if it meant they would feel better the next morning. But they didn’t need to know that, of course.

“Have you two already picked out a song?”

“That’s what today is for, I suppose. We’re headed to the room to throw around some ideas.” It almost seemed like Jimin’s eyes sparkled with hope as he spoke of the upcoming season, and you couldn’t help but smile at their passion.

You said goodbye to the two, watching as they cheerily walked through the double doors leading out of the building. Seokjin had remained fairly quiet during the conversation, only giving a hum here and there in acknowledgment. When you glanced back up to him, you realized why his replies had died down: in his hands was that yellow sticky note that had been folded and pushed inside of your locker.

“Oh, that reminds me,” you say as you take the note out of his hand, “this note was in my locker today. It wasn’t written too long ago, seeing as the ink was still fresh.

“Looks like someone has a secret admirer,” Seokjin wiggled his eyebrows in a flirtatious manner to which you scoffed and shut your locker.

“I highly doubt that, the guy probably meant to put it in the locker next to mine. We all know how pretty she is.”

Eyebrow quirked, Seokjin gave you a look that screamed “bullshit,” but you only waved him off before you were the one walking out of the building.

The sticky note wasn’t something you had expected to see, not on your 5th period desk anyways. When you entered the classroom, over half the students were already in their desks; some were patiently waiting for the last ninety seconds to pass by for the teacher to begin class, and others were wrapping up their gossip about whatever it is they gossip about. The note hadn’t even caught your eye until you were sitting in the seat.

Meet me in the danceroom after school? -Your secret admirer

You ran your thumb over the note once more, smearing the ink in the process. This became the habit now as this was the eighth note you’ve received. Most of the previous ones had been compliments that made your heart race and your cheeks flush what could only be a deep scarlet. The most recent one before today’s note though, had been a little more flirtatious and… personal. You had tripped one afternoon during gym class, and although you weren’t one to easily get embarrassed, you knew word had travelled quickly when some of your friends were throwing themselves at you in worry outside of the gym. The note that you found in your locker a couple classes after the incident was written in its same blue ink on the same yellow paper. I’m sorry you fell today, I can kiss you it and make you feel better. -SA

That note definitely left you liable to a heart attack, and you had promptly gushed to Jeon Jungkook the moment that you found him. Wishes of wanting to know who he was already had no trouble spilling from your giddy lips.

“Be careful what you wish for, Y/N,” Jungkook’s words from two days ago were now flowing through your mind as you tried to picture the person behind the mysterious notes.

“Hey, Yoongi?” It seemed like the school had blessed you this year, because you had one of your seven best friends in each of your classes.

“What’s up, buttface?”

Perhaps they did so on purpose to keep the eight of you separated.

“Rude. Anyways, did you see who left this sticky note on my desk?”

“Nope,” he said the word with a loud pop of his lips before fulling turning to you. “Is it another love note?”

“Of course it is, but this time he said he wanted to meet me!”

Yoongi is the kind of person to usually dismiss the little things like this; he often whines to no end when it was your turn to pick out the film for movie night because you always choose a romantic one. He’s not against love or anything, he just doesn’t see the hype about it. So, when he found out you had a secret admirer, he was the first one to write it off as childish. This time though, as you gushed to him about your secret admirer he copied your excitement with an equally dumb grin.

“It’s about time lover boy got the balls to see you!”

With that exclamation, the teacher called for class to begin. You tried so hard, you really did, to pay attention to the PowerPoint in front of you. The historical words could not, however, grasp your attention long enough before you were fumbling with the sticky note on your desk. Trailing your eyes around the room, you let your eyes settle on the back of the heads of a few of the boys in your class. Jackson is super cute, but he’s never talked to me a day in his life, you huffed as you moved onto the next one. Yugyeom is a total sweetheart and so attractive but, does he even know how to talk to girls? You giggled in your seat as the teacher droned on and on about the economy of four hundred years ago. Leaping from boy to boy, your eyes finally landed to the one next to you. With your head on your hand, you gazed at Yoongi for just a few seconds. His hair seemed to have a little more texture today than usual and you made note to scold him for over bleaching his hair. If he wasn’t one of my best friends, I would have no qualms with him being my secret admirer.

“And don’t forget we’ll be choosing partners tomorrow for the project!” The teachers loud voice signaled the end of class, and you had to blink a couple times to make sure it really was time to leave.

Yoongi snapped his fingers in front of your face and finally you broke out of your trance. The two of you walked in comfortable silence before you thought to ask about the project you had missed.

“Y/N, you’re gonna be my partner again right?” But Yoongi beat you to it.

“It depends, what project are we doing again?”

“Were you daydreaming about your crush that hard?” You knew right then that Yoongi would never stop teasing you about the whole situation.

“Yes, but I’d hardly call it a crush, I don’t even know who he-” your sentence was cut short as six pairs of feet came into your line of sight.

“What’s this I’m hearing about a crush?” Namjoon was the first one to speak up as they approached the two of you in the hallway.

As always, Namjoon’s blonde hair was coated with just the right amount of hair gel to get it to fluff up perfectly when it had been slicked back; the sides of his head were much shorter than the rest of his locks and it gave him an edgier look. You always asked why he put so much effort into his hair to which he would always reply, “it’s not like these uniforms do much to make me look good.” That was a lie if there was one, because Namjoon seemed to be the only one who didn’t drown in the awkwardness of the mandatory clothing.

“It’s not a crush,” another one, Kim Taehyung, shouts as he pulls the sticky note from your hand. “Y/N is finally going to figure out who her secret admirer is!”

The note was being passed around as the seven boys threw out their guesses left and right. It was Seokjin that seemed to have the same idea as you when he too suggested Yugyeom, the boy who always tries to talk to you, but somehow never can.

“It’s gotta be him, we all know he’s in love with you!” As Seokjin said this, you noticed Hoseok and Jimin being hardly able to contain their fit of laughter.

“I’m worried though, what if it’s someone that I’ve never even talked to? I feel like I at least know this person leaving the notes.” The bell rang to let you know that you had a minute to get to your next class, so you said your goodbyes and prepared to walk away. “I swear it’d almost be better if it was one of you boys, at least I already know I enjoy your company.”

You rolled your eyes as you walked away, the sounds of their giggles and laughter fading the farther away you got. The more you thought about it, the more you hoped it would be one of the seven boys. Not only were your seven best friends undeniably attractive, they knew you like the back of their hands. This was, however, highly impossible, so you made it through the rest of the day getting antsier and antsier as the day drew to a close.

Faint music could be heard from the other side of the dance room door, piano music, you thought. At this point, your palms were almost sweaty from how nervous you were; you probably had checked a mirror ten times in the last five minutes, and you were constantly smoothing down the non-existent wrinkles in the skirt of your uniform. The second that you began to turn the handle, the music stopped. You couldn’t back away now, so you slowly opened the door to its full width and stepped inside. With your gaze still lowered, you turned to shut the door behind you. When you turned around and lifted your eyes, you were expecting to meet only one pair of eyes.

Instead, you were met with seven.

“O-oh,” you stuttered when you realized the boys had been using the danceroom. “I’m sorry guys, I didn’t know you’d be in here!”

Your face started to burn because how dumb could I have been to think that my secret admirer would reveal himself. It wasn’t until Jimin had abruptly came to your side that you were able to lift your gaze again.

“Come here,” he murmured as he gently tugged on your wrist. You, confusingly, let him bring you to the others; Taehyung brought out a chair for you to sit on, and they created a semi-circle in front of you.

“What are you guys doing here? Did you see the guy that I was supposed to meet?”

You looked up at Jungkook, initially, who was nervously chewing on his lip, before glancing around at the others. No one seemed to be able to hold your gaze, and you were beginning to burn with embarrassment.

“Oh no, please tell me you didn’t,” you paused trying not to panic as “realization” hit you. “You guys did this as a prank didn’t you?”

You had let your voice raise a little, to which the boys’ eyes had widened. At the thought of your seven best friends pulling such a cruel joke on you, you felt your eyes well up with tears. Before you got the chance to blink them free, gentle hands were sitting you back down in the seat you had angrily jumped from.

“No, Y/N, we’d never pull a prank like that on you.” Jungkook’s soft voice had you calmed down easily, but it didn’t erase your confusion.

“Then what’s going on. Why are you guys here?”

A short silence filled the air as you let your gaze settle on Yoongi; he was tonguing the corner of his mouth and you knew there was something he wanted to say.

“It’s us.” Yoongi finally sighed and decided to speak.

“What?” You sat there dumbfounded as you tried to decipher what he had said.

“Well not all of us,” Namjoon had piped up.

“It’s one of us,” Jimin finished, and you turned to look at the quiet boy who was blushing indefinitely.

“So, let me get this right,” you took a deep breath trying to word everything properly, “one of you has a crush. On me?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” Seokjin was laughing at your denial of the fact.

“Well yes, you guys are my best friends!”

“One of just wants to be more, is all.” Taehyung was serious as he talked.

“Well who is it?”

“That,” Yoongi had a mischievous grin on his face, “would ruin the fun. You have to find out yourself.”

“What am I supposed to do?” You threw your hands up in exasperation, “go on dates with my seven best friends to figure out which one likes me?”

Once you saw the shit eating grins plastered on all seven faces, you outwardly groaned as you put your face in your hands. They are going to be the death of me. When you were done shaking your head, you stood up and stared at Namjoon.

“You,” you aggressively pointed your finger at him, making him gulp under your rough stare, “are buying me dinner tonight since the seven of you want to make things difficult for me.”

7:02 PM. Jungkook: Y/N!

7:03 PM. Y/N: What now?

7:05 PM. Seokjin: What are you wearing for your date with Namjoon?

7:05 PM. Jimin: What are you wearing tonight?

7:05 PM. Taehyung: Wear that blue dress tonight!

7:06 PM. Hoseok: Don’t let him kiss you!

7:07 PM. Y/N: Omg. Pls stop guys.

7:07 PM. Y/N: It’s not even a date, he’s just buying me dinner. Something you guys have all done before??

7:09 PM. Yoongi: It’s different this time!

7:11 PM. Seokjin: You never answered my question! What are you wearing tonight?

7:12 PM. Jimin: Just show us!

7:15 PM. Y/N: Not happening. Just ask Joon tomorrow, he’s here anyways.

Your phone buzzed a few more times, but you didn’t bother to read them. Turning the vibrations off, you quickly grabbed your purse and met Namjoon where he was still insistently knocking on your door. He greeted you with a closed mouth smile that perfectly displayed his dimples. For a second your heart fluttered at the sight of him so attractively casual. Maybe having your seven, too-hot-for-their-own-good, best friends show up at your door won’t be the end of the world.

“Ready for our date?” You teased, and he just rolled his eyes.

“Thought you said it wasn’t a date?” He laughed as he dramatically held his elbow out for you to hook your arm through. You gave him a smirk as he led you out of your house and to whatever adventure he had planned.

A soup shop. Namjoon took you to the same soup shop that all eight of you always frequent; the blinds on the windows still provided the same amount of light that they always do; the fixtures above the table gave off the same yellow glow; you could still smell the same delicious scent wafting from the kitchen. The only difference was there was only two of you this time, not eight.

Like any other time the two of you are alone, the air is only filled with laughter and chatter. From the way he sticks his chopsticks in his mouth to be a makeshift walrus, to the way you ask each other the same mind-boggling questions, nothing is different. Namjoon has always been one of the easier ones to converse with, and you were thankful that tonight was no different.

His hair was still styled the same way that he had done this morning for school, but he replaced his uniform for dark jeans rolled above his ankles, a grey shirt, and some converse. Namjoon looked good, really good, but you could tell that minimal effort had been put into the whole ordeal. You observed Namjoon and his mannerisms, none of which suggest anything other than a platonic relationship between the two of you.

“Joon,” you sighed as you pushed your now empty bowl away from you. “It’s not you, is it?”

“What makes you say that?” You watched as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and quirked a brow at him. “Okay, fine, you caught me.”

“I knew it,” you giggled.

“What gave me away?”

“Joon,” you rolled your eyes, “you were the first one I became close to out of the seven of you, and I know how you get when you like a girl, and it’s certainly not this.” You gestured to your surroundings.

“Good point.”

“Why can’t you just tell me who it is?” You sighed again as you impatiently tapped your fingers against the tabletop. Namjoon simply shook his head, causing you to ask another question. “At least give me a hint?”

At first Namjoon didn’t budge, but the cuter your face got and the more you pleaded him with big eyes, the sooner he crumbled.

“Fine, I’ll give you a hint if you go out with Yoongi next. He’s been dying to try that restaurant over there,” he pointed and emphasized with the utensil in his hand, “and I definitely do not want to eat there."

“Deal.”

The remaining couple days of the school week dragged on. Between the seven boys and the notes you were still receiving, it seemed like your life had turned into a romcom. They were smart though, and went to extreme measures to make sure you couldn’t figure out who the secret admirer really was: after they saw you checking their homework to compare it to the love note, your notes started coming in different handwriting each time. And each time someone complimented you or said something remotely flirtatious, all the others joined in so as not to single anyone out. Save for Namjoon, of course.

“What do you mean you told her it wasn’t you?” Seokjin had playfully whined as he set his food on the table next you the next day at lunch.

“It was just too obvious. Besides, now this lets her focus on the rest of you.” That remark had all the chattering boys shutting up in an instant, leaving you in giggles.

As you stood in front of the mirror, you looked over your outfit once more. Being one step closer to figuring out which boy had been crushing on you had left excitement boiling in the pit of your stomach. Waiting for Yoongi to pick you up had you slightly more nervous than you had been with Namjoon; you knew nothing of how Yoongi handled his crushes, so there was no telling how you could figure out if he was the one or not. Wondering what he would be wearing tonight had your thoughts running over the different outfits you’ve seen him wear. You could only pray that he’d wear the black jeans with the holes in them.

7:36 PM. Taehyung: sweeeeetheaaaart

7:38 PM. Y/N: I get petnames now?

7:39 PM. Seokjin: Only if you want them

7:39 PM. Jimin: Where are you and Yoongi going tonight?

7:40 PM. Hoseok: They’re going to that new place across from our soup shop.

7:41 PM. Y/N: I can talk for myself guys

7:43 PM. Namjoon: Hardly, she won’t stop telling me about how excited she is for this date.

7:44 PM. Y/N: This isn’t a date either, Namjoon!

7:45 PM. Namjoon: Sure, that’s totally why you haven’t been sending me snapchats about your outfit.

7:46 PM. Jungkook: Namjoon gets to see the outfits but we don’t? :(

7:48 PM. Yoongi: Wait your turn kid, I’m outside Y/N!

7:50 PM. Seokjin: You’re not even gonna go to the door? She’s definitely gonna think you’re not the one!

You sighed heavily and went to the door. Upon opening it however, you were met, once again, with an attractive boy with a shit eating grin on his face. Yoongi’s hand was half raised in an interrupted knock, and his gums were on full display. The sight of him looking so happy was enough to make your heart skip a beat, but even more so when you realized what he was holding. He was holding a small bouquet of a variety of flowers that just screamed romance.

“I hope these are okay?”

Are you an idiot? Is what you wanted to say to the silly question, but you opted for something with a little less teasing.

“They’re perfect, thank you.”

Once the flowers had been secured into a vase, you were off for date number two. Instantly you could tell that there was something different with your time with Namjoon and the present moment. While you and Namjoon talked like the old friends you were, Yoongi seemed to have put a little bit more effort into the whole ordeal. He wasn’t wearing the torn jeans you knew and loved, but they were dark and hugged his hips perfectly nonetheless; his shirt hung loosely from his chest, causing you to steal a glance or two at his collarbones when he shifted in his seat. Your gaze travelled from his face to ears, noting the way the earrings hung from his earlobes.

“Yoongi?” As the two of you settled into the booth you had been led to, you couldn’t help but voice your observations. “I haven’t seen you wear those earrings in weeks, why’d you change them out?”

“I uh,” his face turned red at the question and he looked away timidly for a moment. “I remember that you had said you really liked them when I got them a few months ago, so I put them back in for tonight.”

It was then that a couple butterflies tried to escape from your stomach, but you drowned them with your drink. Food was ordered and brought out, and the usual comfortable silence you loved him for filled the air. The entire dinner seemed to be filled with shy glances and accidental foot bumping under the table, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something different in the way he looked at you tonight.

After leaving the restaurant which, thankfully, turned out to be heavenly, the two of you walked around the quiet town. Yoongi had his hands in his pockets and yours swung freely at your sides, occasionally brushing his arm. You had been discussing something with a passion; hands were repeatedly thrown into the air in annoyance or excitement. Hardly noticing that Yoongi had unfisted his hands from his pockets, you jumped a bit at the contact that his hand made with yours. If holding your hand was meant to shut you up, it certainly worked.

The hand holding didn’t stop as you made it back to your house; Yoongi only broke the grasp when he opened the car door for you, but the moment he had finished turning the car on and pulled away, his fingers locked themselves between yours once more.

I definitely wouldn’t mind it if it was Yoongi sending me love notes, you giggled at the idea and that had Yoongi giving you a concerned sideways glance.

“Why are you laughing like a crazy person over there?”

“Just thinking,” he hummed in response and you knew that he wanted you to elaborate. “Is it you? I mean you’ve definitely put in the most effort so far.”

“You’ve only gone out with two of us so far,” he laughed as he pointed out the fact, and your heart threatened to fail as his wide smile softened. “But no, I’m not gonna tell you if it’s me or not.”

“This isn’t fair, can I get a hint?”

Yoongi was silent for a minute or two as he pondered the request. Pulling into your driveway, he put the car in park and shifted in his seat so that he was facing you. For the briefest second, the situation seemed soft and flirtatious, and for an even briefer second you thought he would lean over at any point and kiss you. Which, he did, but only on the forehead. There was no doubt in your mind that you were now a giddy mess.

“As far as your hint goes,” he softly spoke as you started to exit the car, “let’s just say I’m a better candidate than say, Hoseok or Jimin.” He gave you a wink as you shut the car door, watching until you made it inside. The second you got your front door open, he was off like a light.

10:42 PM. Y/N: Well tonight’s been interesting

10:43 PM. Seokjin: Spill the beans!!

10:43 PM. Taehyung: Was the food any good?

10:44 PM. Jimin: Did he bring you flowers? He said he might bring you flowers!!

You stared at your phone as the messages in the group chat grew in number. It was hilarious seeing them ask about the date, even when they knew everything already. Surely, they knew what Yoongi had planned.

10:48 PM. Y/N: The food was great! They had these delicious lamb skewers!

10:48 PM. Y/N: And yes, he did bring me flowers.

10:50 PM. Y/N: Here’s a picture of them, aren’t they pretty :)

10:53 PM. Jungkook: Good job, hyung, I bet Y/N was a blushing mess the entire night

10:55 PM. Hoseok: Don’t worry, Y/N, I’ll wow you even better than Yoongi did when you go on a date with me.

10:57 PM. Y/N: Actually, that’s the other thing that made this night so interesting

10:58 PM. Seokjin: ???

10:58 PM. Namjoon: which is??

11:00 PM. Y/N: A little birdy told me that it’s not Jimin or Hoseok :)

11:02 PM. Jimin: OH, COME ON, HYUNG

11:05 PM. Hoseok: really Yoongi?? You toLD HER??

11:08 PM. Yoongi: No comment.

11:10 PM. Y/N: I never said it was Yoongi that told me that!

11:10 PM. Namjoon: Y/N, you don’t get your hint now :(

You kept watching as the two boys bickered with Yoongi at the information you had gathered on the date. It was an absolute riot to see them get so worked up over the game being spoiled.

11:15 PM. Y/N: Besides, I don’t kiss and tell ;)

11:16 PM. Seokjin: wait, WHAT

11:16 PM. Jungkook: DID HE KISS YOU?

11:17 PM. Jungkook: HYUNG WE SAID NO KISSING.

11:20 PM. Yoongi: Again, no comment.

11:21 PM. Y/N: Goodnight boys :)

Apart from the fact that you, at one point, had seven attractive boys pretending, and not, to pine over you, the best part about the situation is all the free food you were getting. It seemed as though all your meals had been, both from the sake of friendship and for romance, taken care of. Such as right now for instance: three days from your last venture, and a week and a half from your time with Yoongi.

It was Jungkook’s turn to catch your attention, and it was completely adorable how he planned on doing it. You were sat at the dining table at his home, patiently waiting for the dinner he had decided to prepare. Upon arriving, he instantly told you that it wouldn’t be as good as Jin’s cooking, but that he had gotten lessons nonetheless. The smell of meat and vegetables that had been seasoned with spices, that you couldn’t name, wafted into your nose from the kitchen.

Your fingertips drummed against the wooden table as you let your mind wander back to the date from a couple evenings ago. More importantly, the awful movie you had been forced to watch replayed in your head.

“It’s not you, is it, Taehyung?” You asked the question the second the two of you had stepped out from the movie theatre.

“Oh come on, the movie was that bad!” Taehyung waved his hand as he whined, moving your connected one with it. “Okay fine, it was bad. I know, I’ll let you pick the movie next time.”

“Good. But that’s not why I said it wasn’t you.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well for one, you can’t properly hold my hand, and there wasn’t an ounce of nervousness radiating off of you.”

“What if my hand just doesn’t fit well in yours?” The excuse was dumb enough that even Taehyung was grimacing over it, “or what if I’m just super confident?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you rolled your eyes and stopped so that he would face you. He looked at you with confusion written across his face and you stepped closer. “Forgive me but,”

Your voice trailed off as you used your free hand to grab the back of his neck and bring his face closer to yours. The second his lips collided with yours, you had your answer. Taehyung emitted a noise that definitely did not sound like pleasure, and you broke from the action with a smirk on your face.

“What was that for?” He stared at you as if you were crazy, and you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Taehyung did the same.

“Well,” you shrugged, “neither one of us enjoyed that kiss, so it’s safe to say you’re not the one with the crush.”

Taehyung had given you a playful smack on your arm, cursing the fact that he was going to get an earful from the other guys; no doubt that the other six, crush or not, would ever let him live it down.

“It’s not as good as the one that Jin makes, but I think it still tastes good anyways.” Jungkook’s sweet voice had brought you back to reality.

You dug your fork into the food he had placed on your plate and brought it to your mouth. Jungkook looked at you intensely so that he couldn’t miss your reaction. You decided not to pass up the opportunity to mess with him.

“Oh my god, Jungkook.” You made a disgusted face as his eyes widened with horror. “You didn’t even cook the meat properly!”

“Seriously?” He was out of his seat in a second, grabbing the fork of meat from your hand. The moment he saw that it was, in fact, cooked perfectly, he returned to his seat with a scowl. “You’re the worst did you know that?”

“Uh no, I’m the best. That’s why you boys keep feeding me, remember?”

“Uh, yeah.” Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, down the side of his neck, and across his cheek, a mannerism that you learned long ago stemmed from nerves.

You had brushed it off at first, but as you ate your food in what was neither an uncomfortable nor comfortable silence, you couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Jungkook!” You said almost too loudly, causing the poor boy to jump in his seat.

“Holy shit, I’m right here, you don’t have to yell so loudly!” His hand stayed clutched to his chest until it seemed his breathing had slowed down enough for him to speak again. “What is it?”

“Why are you so nervous? None of the other boys have been like this, is that the giveaway that you’re the one sending me love notes?”

“Actually, the opposite.”

You cocked your head in a questioning manor as you waited for Jungkook to spit out whatever it is that he has to say. Eventually, he did.

“No offense, Y/N, but it’s not me. Don’t get me wrong, you’re super pretty and nice and I love you, but I-” He could have rambled on and on with his apology, but you decided to cut him some slack.

“Kookie, stop it.” You laughed as you heard his heavy breathing, lungs burning for air after talking that fast. “What was the point of learning how to cook then?”

“Well,” a red hue crept up to his cheeks and he had to bite back a large smile. “I really want to impress Amy with some cooking skills before I ask her to be my date to prom.”

“Awe,” you cooed as you had ticked off the fifth boy from your list.

“Besides, I knew it wasn’t you anyways.”

“Hyung is going to kill me,” he groaned.

Pulling out your phone, you sent a quick text to the group chat before Jungkook convinced you to let him kick your ass in video games.

7:00 PM. Y/N: Looks like there’s only two of you left in the running. I’m coming for you next, Jin ;)

You waited patiently, hidden at the end of the corridor. Thankfully, your teacher had believed that you had fallen ill during class. This gave you the opportunity to be on the lookout for whoever your mysterious lover could be. The clock read that there were only a few minutes left until the bell rang to let the classes out for lunch, and you began to worry that your secret admirer was never going to show. You continued to think this until you heard the faint sound of a classroom door opening on the other end of the hallway. Ducking behind the lockers, you waited until you heard the sound of a locker opening. The loud clank of the metal locker rang through the hallway, and you could hear the sound of footsteps walking the way they came. Peering out from your hiding spot, you watched as a head of dark hair, accompanied by a shorter one of blonde, left the building.

Without hesitation, you sped to your locker; the combination lock that you protected it with hadn’t been shut properly, letting you reopen your locker with ease. The sticky note fluttered to the ground from its place on the inside of the door. It was a pink sticky this time, but the blue ink still smeared when you touched. Your heart thumped loudly because you finally figured out who was behind all the love letters.

11:55 AM. Y/N: Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner. Meet me in the danceroom for lunch?

11:56 AM. Seokjin: What do you mean we have a winner? I haven’t even taken you out yet!

11:58 AM. Hoseok: It’s about time you figured it out, he hasn’t stopped talking about you for months.

A chuckle left your lips because Hoseok was still trying to hide the identity of the mysterious crusher, but it didn’t matter, because you knew. Perhaps you had known from the beginning, or perhaps it had just finally clicked in your head, but after your observations today, there was no doubt in your head. You made your way to the empty danceroom and patiently waited as the seven idiots piled into the room. The look on their faces was comical; a variety of nerves, humor, and annoyance washed over their faces.

“Well come on,” Jimin said as he shut the danceroom door and joined the others in front of you.

“How’d you figure it out?” Hoseok finished.

“Wait, she hasn’t even guessed who it is yet, what if she doesn’t know who it is?” Yoongi had a smirk on his face, and you knew you were about to floor all of them because you were one step ahead.

“It’s funny that yohu’re the one saying that, Yoongi.” The others laughed as his face turned bright red, “seeing as you’re the one leaving me the notes.”

“I-I, what?” He started to stutter a little in embarrassment of being outed like he was. “What makes you s-say that?”

“Oh, let’s see, at the end of every date, yours included, I’ve been told it wasn’t them.”

“But you never went out with Jin?”

“Well, I was supposed to, but I made a beautiful observation this morning.” You held out a pack of pink sticky notes and tossed it to him. “Besides the fact that I was in class when you asked for the pink sticky notes from the teacher last week, you aren’t very smart. I have one of you in all of my classes, you do realize that you’re the only one that owns, let alone uses, blue ink pens, right?”

“What if the others had borrowed one?”

“Well that brings me to my next point,” you were standing in front of Yoongi now and you were almost worried that he had stopped breathing. “You’re the only one that knows the combination to the lock I keep on my locker.”

“What if-”

You had been waiting for the moment since your first date, so you took the opportunity to deflect his what if statements. You gave him a soft kiss, and he instantly melted into your mouth. As if on instinct, a large hand settled onto the small of your back, fisting the material of your shirt in the process. When you pulled away, Yoongi looked awestruck as his lower lip hung in a pout.

“Are you gonna confess that you like me, now?”

“Only if you kiss me again,” he murmured as he used his free hand to cup your face.

The second kiss was a little messier, and it had the other six boys hollering in excitement. You could feel yourself being jostled slightly as the boys clapped their hands onto Yoongi’s shoulder. When you pulled away the second time, Yoongi was giving you the same wide smile he had when he picked you up for your date.

“This is cute and all, but can you still let me feed you later, Y/N?” Jin’s question had you arching your brow and had Yoongi tightening his grip around your waste. “I had planned on using the ingredients in my fridge for dinner tonight and they’ll be bad by tomorrow if I don’t!”

“Of course, Jinnie, you know I never turn down free food.” You gave the boys a wink as they all laughed, they knew it was true.

193 notes · View notes

badmousestuff-blog · 5 years

Text

Is TAXATION THEFT

(SHOTS OF ME OPENING A LETTER)

Mmm Money. Oh hello there, Badmouse, I was just enjoying the sweet sweet smell of the British Payslip, nah its pretty bland, this one here’s from a job I had about 2 years ago, ah memories, memories, memories…. (Sees Tax) I’ve been stolen from.

£50 taken from me! Money that I don’t even get to decide how it gets spent, 1 vote every 5 years out of 2 preselected jerks every 5 years I wouldn’t call a great turnaround. We don’t tolerate thieves coming into our houses and stealing our prized possessions, why do we allow the Federal government to do the same?

(British Mouse appears) We don’t have a Federal Government in Britain, you poser twat.

Rational Mouse: Maybe I can be of assistance.

Its not really ‘THEFT’ though is it? Its a lot less of this “Gimmie your money, of you’ll die!” And a lot more of this “Gimme your money, and I’ll give you, Mrs Piggy Winkle.

IrM: Still Theft Buddy! If one man steals from you, is that Theft? What about 5? What if they buy the man a hamburger and give him a vote? Is that not still the…

MYOPIA ———————————————

RM: This is Myopic and Archaic guff dude

(Irrational Mouse Gasps)

This isn’t how the form of governance we now inhabit came to be anyway, its like that Who will Pick the Cotton without slaves analogy when you compare it to Roads.

Its conflating a systemic transport basis, to a generalised commodity thats sold many times over. They’re not the same thing, theres a very obvious reason why business prefers state run roads the same way industrialised economies prefer state run schools. You’re sort of neglecting why these things came to emerge in the first place. Is it it any coincidence that most of the toll roads started being gutted when Feudalism came to a close?

IrM: Who even are you?

RM: Oh, I’m RATIONAL MOUSE

IrM: So that means I’m…

(RM does the Jack Nicolson eyebrows)

IRRATIONAL MOUSE… Well thats not fair is it?

RM: Look just read the script bud, y’know how it ends

IrM: Fucking writers, you don’t do anything…

RM: Excuse me

IrM: The state has been showcased to be an incredibly inefficient, bureaucratic nightmare, that can never innovate like the market can, it wastes too much of its money, I mean have you seen the state’s attempts to be cool, they couldn’t even make a Millennium Dome profitable.

EFFICIENCY ———————————————

RM: Well you’re right on profits but apart from that its pretty much all Chicago School taft

(IrM gasps)

So many of us have a distrust for the public sector these days, its really no wonder seeing as for the past 40 years men in suits have done an active push of erasing the private sector defects by blaming the state. Quite interestingly, and surprisingly for a lot of leftists, the state sector is actually very efficient, especially when it comes to R&D.

IrM: Blow me

RM: No, I’m serious, wide spread free at the point of use services benefit amazingly from economics of scale. https://newint.org/features/2015/12/01/private-public-sector http://www.psiru.org/sites/default/files/2014-07-EWGHT-efficiency.pdf

Let me put it this way, what seems more efficient to you. Have 10 businesses all competing to not to make the best product, but to win them over to you, you can’t just ask them. In order to do that you’ve gotta come up with some snazzy designs, aesthetically pleasing logos, a funky marketing gimmick, before long you’re spending so much dough in marketing you’re not even interested in helping people, just getting yourself seen. Or You could just have one org that does all of that stuff, it doesn’t need to compete. Sounds to me like a lot of hands that could be spend doing R&D.

IrM: Thats investment not waste, besides R&D is the definition of the private sector … Yea?

RM: No. The private sector utilises R&D a lot, but effectively every piece of GPT was created in the public sector. Yes Samsung made this phone, but who made the battery that goes in it? Why is the state sector significant? TIME. Companies flock new models of these out every year to keep the money train rolling, and most importantly keep faith with their shareholders. Makes them flimsy, crappy, liable to break. But GPT takes decades not years to bring it up to commercial satisfaction. Do you really think that shareholders are gonna give you investment with the tagline of “Coming this summer. 2047”

Fact remains, we’ve had plenty of time to analyse the effects of the free-market and what we find is theres hardly any greater efficiency.

IrM: You’re really getting off topic here, okay fine businesses want roads, the market isn’t as efficient as I thought, it doesn’t mean that taxes are moral.

WHY BASE AN IDEOLOGY AROUND IT? —————————————————————

Fair enough, the government sure as hell does take my money through a warm gun doesn’t it?

But for the vast majority of us… its really small, like in my pay check I only lost 1/20th of my monthly income, and sure its annoying not being able to spend that on the latest gamer game or a lush soap but I am getting free healthcare, an education, a polli… I’m getting firemen, ROADS, libraries, Society. If thats worth £50 a month then fuck me daddy I’m ready.

(BRITISH MOUSE gasps)

Point here is, you’ve got no semblance basing your entire ideology around something so insignificant, especially when the majority of us will not be owners we’ll be workers and buyers. Now I’m no normie, I know that a lot of this just goes on corporate warfare, IMF loans, and bailouts. But I recognise that thats part of the system we live in and sadly we have to hang on to what we’ve got whilst the very government I am under is selling it all off to the highest bidder. Don’t want things getting worse do I?

IrM: Yeahh its not a significant thing to base your ideology around, but you’re not getting the point, Taxation is still THEFT!

RM: Ok.

IrM: (Puzzled) eh… No, Taxation is Theft.

RM: Well at this point does anyone care about the views of an An-cap. Come back to reality dude.

(Blinding light)

IrM: The right of a man to own his own own property is a right ordained by common natural law prerequisite to our beings here on earth, through the self-ownership of a person’s own oneself, by natural exclusivity to the creation of ethics and rule of law, as prescribed in first principles, to disagree is literal rape and medieval iceland an…

RM: Alright I get it, you want a wibbly wobbly philosophical answer. Look I could the Positive/Negative rights shit if you want, Kant and Moral hierarchies if we want, I really don’t think folks give a damn about that right now, besides theres probably better people who could do that job than me (Olly)

I think when the dust has settled it all comes down to taxes being negligible compared to what you defend.

IrM: Huh?

RM: Exploited Labour

IrM: Huh, there is no exploitation, if I want someone to pick my potatoes…

EXPLOITATION IN 45 SECONDS

A man has £10 worth of Capital, he uses this to buy raw materials. He pays a wood turner to turn this wood into a chair worth £50. For this he pays the labourer £10. The turner therefore has to make 5 chairs in this arrangement in order to buy 1 of them for himself. You don’t gotta be a genius to see theres a disconnect going on here…

Remember my old pay check? I made about £1000 a month, Now as you…

IrM: Why do you keep leaving? I’m in here?

RM: I got £1000 a month, in an average day we made £1500 worth of goods, generally there were 3 people there each day. Divided by all of us thats £500 each. Now I’m gonna be super generous and say that only half of that is profit, that brings us up to a daily average of £250, but I only saw £60. Whats going on here?

IrM: You decided to take that job…

RM: No I didn’t it beats eating ass omelettes for a living.

I’m not denying its very liberal estimate it is, but £190 is a lot of money that I literally get no say in how its spent, I’m sure a lot of it would of have to have gone back into my employment or taken out as more taxes, but its not the specific amount I’m interested in, the point is I get no say my labour power, I don’t even get a vote, best I can do is fuck my boss. If we drag this out to a month, thats £3000, I’m getting screwed. And this, this small little number, is what we consider… THEFTTTTTTTTTTTT. Those Chicago boys were good.

IrM: You can… You can start your own business…

RM: Majority will always be workers not owners.

IrM: Not if everyone decided to save up their money and open one

RM: Nobody’s going to buy your cigars if they’ve quit smoking to sell you cigars.

PAUSE

And don’t think I’d stop there, I’d consider RENT theft too, think of all the money we spend so just existing in buildings, somehow I don’t think it costs half our pay checks to have personal washing machine fixers.

IrM: But its their property

RM: O RLY?

IrM: Yes, if they weren’t allowed to do that then they wouldn’t bother, nobody would be able to find anywhere to rent

RM: And maybe if jesus had been hanged we’d all be kneeling over a fucking gibbet.

IrM: Wa.httt??

RM: Theres a reason I think why we call them American Libertarians. See if you pick up a copy of Adam Smiths stuff you’ll notice that he’s not the pastiche we think of him as. Check this out… “The landlords like any other men, love to reap where they never sowed, and demand a rent even from its nature produce” Now I’m not saying BOOM Smith’s a lefty, the point is he didn’t view Capitalism as great just because, he was looking at it based in his experience of the system as it existed in Britain.

But America has a very different history to us Anglos, the entire nation was founded upon a certain hatred of taxes, and tea.

BM: Actually it never really was about the taxes, they just wanted to own the slaves whole sale, didn’t want old money controlling the colonies so they could …

And when you take the views of this man, and throw it into the melting pot of Exceptionalism and Capital, you get all sorts of zany concepts, like the Self-Made man, The U-turned addict, the Noble Christian, and above all the cult of the founders. They’re dead, they’re not going to sleep with you, I’m sorry.

So what of it? Is Taxation theft? Sure, but its not worth basing your life around it. We all think the Capitalist process is just the general flow of life but its very recent, Medieval Ireland and Iceland don’t compare guys, and at the heart of that system is Exploitation, something that we all as a class deal with on a daily basis, and gain nothing from. One might argue, Taxes on business are a trade off for what they get from us.

I know when you first get into politics its juicy to claim theft over a little bite out of your salary, but we only see it that way because its… literally right in front of us, there isn’t a spare column that counts your total labour value. We shouldn’t get so pissed off over the pennies scraped off instead of the huge overhead.

IrM: Well, guess you got me there.

RM: The circle is complete

BM: I must say it really is a very American thing this whole Taxation, not good business isn’t it rather? RM: Well at least we don’t live in a socialist country… like FRANCE!

Yeah thats like 2, 3, 4 personas in 1 video, I could start an extended universe.

BOOM RAWRRRRRRRR

Oh what now?

I’M THE LATE FOR TRENDS GUY, FEMINISM IS CANCER!

nope nope.

WAIT, STOP, SOMEONE GIVE ME AN OPINION!

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