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solalunar-eclipse · 3 years

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Sonic Boom - S3E1

Episode title: Friendship 101

Word count: about 3000 words

Author’s Note: I’m trying a rather new format for this fic, since it’s based on a TV show with various songs and camera angles. If you have any comments about whether it works well or not, please let me know!

(Also, the theme song choice is all thanks to khinesthetic, who used it here and inspired me to put it in this fic.)

[cue Mr. Blue Sky by ELO (0:00-3:45)]

[The show opens on a zoomed-out view of Hedgehog Village from above. Stone walls separate the village from the wilderness outside. There are large spaces at several points throughout the structure for entry and exit. A large patch of grass with benches scattered about sits at one end of the village, and a marketplace made up of wood-and-cloth stalls runs along one of the walls. Houses are grouped in seemingly random clusters throughout the town, and the (in)famous Meh Burger stand sits all on its own, with picnic tables spread across its wooden flooring. As the music progresses, the camera begins to zoom in on the village- then on one of the streets in particular- and rotates down to eye level to face…]

Sonic the Hedgehog walked through the streets of Hedgehog Village with a bounce in his step, occasionally dancing to the music playing through his earbuds. As he wandered throughout the town, he passed the usual people running their stores, arguing over botched orders at Meh Burger, and, at one point, Aqua the Rabbit absolutely freaking out over the loss of a single follower on Angstagram (the latest social media network for moody teens).

He did a 360-degree spin before winking and pointing finger guns at Amy Rose when he spotted her haggling with the local grocery store owner. She paused briefly to wave at him with a smile. “Hi, Sonic!” she called, completely ignoring the irritated fennec in the process.

Then, the music froze and changed to something extremely ominous as she turned around to face the shopkeeper once more. A dangerous gleam appeared in her eyes as she pulled out her signature hammer. “Now then, about those prices you’ve been setting lately…”

The song cut back in as the view switched back to Sonic, who was now moving away from the scene at a slightly faster pace.

Really, though, he was more than happy to see his other friends not long after. Knuckles and Sticks were currently busy rummaging through the town’s garbage together, excitedly chatting about the latest piece of interesting junk they’d found, while Tails was fixing someone’s broken rain gutter (and attempting to ‘improve’ it in the process, which meant that it could now measure the amount and intensity of rainfall in a storm- a very useful, though unfortunately unwanted improvement).

Surprisingly enough, as he continued on his way through Hedgehog Village, he managed to get people from a few different places to wave back at him when he said hello. Although perhaps it wasn’t quite so surprising when one considered that this was one of the most cliched opening sequences that could possibly happen in any movie or TV show. Ever.

And of course, the only logical outcome of this scene led to everyone beginning to stop their usual activities and gather in one of the few open spaces in the town, clearly prepared to break into a fantastic musical dance number straight out of Broadway. Incredibly, this was one of the few moments in which everyone in the village seemed to be able to get along…

...until Eggman’s latest giant robot slammed feet-first into the ground, sending everyone off-kilter and scrambling for cover. Shrieks of panic rose in place of the music as the villagers fled the scene to hide in their houses. The dramatic entrance didn’t just ruin the mood, it absolutely crushed it with the sheer force of its impact.

And that was, obviously, when the show really began.

[cue In Your Face by Shockwave Sound (0:00-1:04)]

[Each of the five members of Team Sonic appears on a black screen with their name spelled out in their signature colors (blue, yellow, red, pink, and green) and does a couple of cool fighting moves, followed by snippets of scenes featuring them from previous episodes of the show for about eight seconds each. All five of them then appear together in their usual fighting stances, emphasizing their status as a team.

The Eggman logo then appears in an ominous, glowing red, backlighting the doctor himself and all his creations- before the lights flick on to reveal him alone in his evil lair with a green screen behind him, at which point he shrieks and covers the camera with a hand. Then, neon blue electronic lines begin to appear across the screen and the camera spirals to follow them, selecting one particular line to trace. Not long after, said line ends at a circle which, with a flash, turns into the words ‘Sonic Boom’. Beneath the title, it says ‘Ancient Secrets’ in neon blue.]

[Then the music ends, at which point the episode title- “Friendship 101”- appears for a few seconds in the same color before the show itself returns.]

Sonic scrambled to his feet and zipped over to Tails, pulling him up from where he’d fallen after the robot’s overdramatic arrival. Amy managed to do the same with both Knuckles and Sticks simultaneously, which let Sonic stare for a moment, startled, and then promptly resolve to remember not to get on her bad side anytime soon.

Soon enough, the team had scrambled into their usual positions, ready to fight. Amy and Sticks kicked the battle off by handling the various smaller robots that threatened to get too close to their team, never faltering (and in fact seeming a bit gleeful in the badger’s case) despite the sheer number of enemies. Knuckles, meanwhile, launched Sonic bodily into the air for Tails to catch, before picking up a boulder about the size of a house and lobbing it directly at the robot’s chest.

“Hey! Easy with the boulders- QuakeBot took a lot of effort to make, you know!” Eggman shrieked from above, hovering in the relative safety of his Eggmobile.

(Relative, in this case, was of course in comparison to mixing absurdly volatile chemicals in a lab, bothering Shadow at any and/or all hours of the day, or being on Tails’s bad side when the fox had a glue gun. The doctor still remembered that situation all too well, and currently ranked it as far more terrifying than merely being punted into the stratosphere by kids under half his height and about a third his age.)

Sonic paused to stare at Eggman from where he was currently dangling in the air. A smirk began to spread slowly across his face. “…what did you just call it?”

“You heard me the first time!” the doctor roared, now incredibly embarrassed. “I named it that since it makes the ground shake when it moves, like an earthquake??”

General laughter came from the heroes assembled on the ground and in the sky.

“Argh! Nobody appreciates my genius around here! Now, QuakeBot, stop standing around and start attacking!”

“I suggested TerraBot, since it still has to do with earth and is a play on the word ‘terror’, but nobody ever listens to my ideas, now do they?” Orbot muttered irritably to himself, tucked inside the Eggmobile.

“I listen to all your ideas!” Cubot offered encouragingly.

Orbot’s mouth shifted into a small smile. “Thanks, Cubot.”

Meanwhile, Sonic had been pulled into a spin by Tails, who whirled the hedgehog around before letting him shoot downwards toward the robot in a spin dash- only for him to get caught and sent flying into the nearest house.

He shook off the surprise quickly (and apparently sustained absolutely zero damage despite having literally crashed through a house, because superpowered teenagers), darting back over to the group. “Well, uh, guess it’s time for Plan B then!”

Crickets chirped in the ensuing silence. Even the robot had stopped moving to hear what he had to say.

“And the plan is…?” Amy prompted.

Sonic folded his arms with a huff. “I dunno, I thought you guys would have one!?”

The pink hedgehog rolled her eyes at that.

Tails piped up. “I have an idea! Sonic, you’re going to need to be curled up for this, okay?”

The hero promptly did just that, before emitting a muffled “mmhmm?” from inside his layers of quills.

“Alright then, Amy, I need you to hit Sonic with your hammer right at the side of this house.”

Sonic’s blood ran cold. “Whoa whoa whoa, wait a second can we maybe rethink thiaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAHHHHH!”

He ricocheted all over the palace like a pinball, slamming into several key points of the robot thanks to Tails’s rapid calculations. However, the robot was sadly unaffected by his screaming at a pitch that came dangerously close to shattering glass.

The robot was easily disabled and the attack overall quickly repelled after that. Thankfully, it took Sonic only a moment to recover from his impromptu stint as an out-of-control projectile and get back to fighting with the others…complete with a “Let’s do that AGAIN!” moment, which was met with a resounding no from both Amy and Tails.

Their ears were both still rather sore from last time, after all.

After Eggman was punted all the way back to his island by a well-placed kick from Sticks, though, the crew was about to head over to Meh Burger for a post-battle meal when they discovered that they had an entirely different problem to take care of. The villagers, who were beginning to come out of hiding after the attack, were furious upon seeing the damage dealt to their homes and stores.

“How could you let this happen?” one shouted.

Before long, the villagers found themselves a more specific target when the owner of the house that Sonic had smashed into pointed her finger directly in his face. “This mess is awful!” she cried. “And it’s all his fault!”

Within seconds, a mob of people had descended upon the overtaxed teen.

“I’ve never known a hero so irresponsible.” one fumed.

“How dare you!” the fennec from earlier roared.

The elderly wolf of the village shook her cane at him. “Shame on you!”

Sonic could feel himself beginning to tense up as the villagers turned their ire on him. Whether or not he’d admit it to anyone, he needed two main things in order to be his usual heroic, cheerful self: open space and positive reinforcement. Right now, he was getting exactly the opposite of both of those.

And he was not feeling good about it.

He looked briefly over to his friends for help, but Sticks had already vanished, Knuckles and Tails looked more nervous than anything, and Amy was already walking towards him with that look in her eye…

“Sonic, next time you do need to work on making sure the robot doesn’t catch you, you know-”

A streak of blue shot out of the village, leaving nothing but a scorched trail of grass and the snap of a sonic boom behind.

Sonic didn’t slow down until he reached the mountains- which technically wasn’t very far from the town at all, so he ran quite a bit more after that until he ended up in the middle of the jungle. Then, he sat down with his back to a tree and his arms around his knees, feeling very unheroic and overall pretty lame.

The blue hedgehog frowned at the dirt. Honestly, some days it really did feel like nobody seemed to like him. The only person who ever even suggested he was important on a regular basis was Tails, and Sonic didn’t blame him at all for not jumping into the middle of that crowd. Tails was only thirteen to his seventeen and a half years old- not exactly an age when he should be expected to go toe-to-toe with a crowd of angry adults.

Still, though. When being a hero got him all risk (no matter how low) and no reward...it was difficult for him to keep hold of that core feeling of “I can make the world a better place to live in!”, which, despite all his other claims, was truly at the center of what had motivated him to start fighting against Eggman so long ago…

[The scene morphs in a manner which shows the lighting shifting so that the sun is overhead. A sound effect of birds chirping plays over the scene change. This implies that it’s been several hours since he first fled the village.]

Sonic was still lost in thought when the snap of a twig in the bushes made him jump to his feet in surprise. The surrounding vegetation rustled ominously for a moment...only to reveal the four members of his team in front of him. He watched them all cautiously, his expression tense. More than anything, he looked ready to run at a moment’s notice- something which only served to make his friends(?) seem a little more distressed. “Uh…hey, guys?” he began tentatively.

“Sonic, I…” Amy began forcefully, before stopping herself. At first, it looked like she was about to scold him again, but then suddenly her face fell. “Listen, Sonic, we’ve all been talking a lot about what happened back at the village…and there’s something I want to say.” She gave a slightly tired sigh.

“I know we usually like to make jokes and witty commentary, but...sometimes, the world’s just a difficult place to be in.” she said. “...so we really do need to talk about serious stuff occasionally, even though I know it’s tough for you to even mention how you’re feeling. Unless, you know, it’s ‘great!’ or ‘cool!’ or something like that.”

Sonic cringed at the mere idea, looking more and more like he thought running away was the preferable option here.

“So what I wanted to say was that in a world where there are too many people trying to beat you down...what I was trying to do was tell you how to be more tolerant, because I thought that would help. I figured you can’t change how other people are going to be, just yourself, so I hoped that might make things better.

“But...I’m not actually a licensed therapist- yet, anyway. So I might have been wrong on how I went about that. Maybe...instead of telling you off for not being able to stop all those people...in the future I’ll pull out my hammer and tell them to knock it off already. Does that sound better to you?” she asked.

The blue hedgehog froze. “Ames…I...” he croaked, trying his best not to think about why exactly it felt like his throat was so tight all of a sudden.

Sticks folded her arms. “I like that plan! Those people are way too crazy sometimes…and you guys know I have a verrrrry high tolerance for crazy.”

“We can make the villagers quit bugging you together, just like how we fight Eggman!” Knuckles added encouragingly. “It’s always better that way, isn’t it?”

There was still one person who hadn’t spoken yet, though.

Suddenly, Tails crashed full-force into Sonic, squeezing him in a hug that for once he didn’t pretend to hate. “You know I’ve always, always, always got your back, right, Sonic? No matter what?” he asked, looking up at his older brother. “Even if I don’t always know how to do it right.”

The blue hedgehog simply nodded, not trusting his voice to help him maintain his ‘cool guy’ status.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel up to talking about it now, though.” the fox added understandingly, stepping back but still leaving a hand on his arm.

“But!” Knuckles added. “We won’t tell anyone if you ever decide you do need to get some stress off your chest every once in a while!” He smacked his own chest with a fist for emphasis.

“Nobody needs to know.” Sticks growled, the camera suddenly showing a dramatic angle of her face as the lighting dropped noticeably.

“Uh…that’s kinda dark.” Sonic said, holding up a finger with a bit of a confused frown, which let the lighting and camera angle zip back to normal.

“Anyway!” The pink hedgehog clapped her hands together, turning to face the group as a whole. “What do you guys think about heading over to my house and watching some movies? I’ll even…” She sighed, her whole body slumping. “…make some messy, simple, unprofessional chili dogs. In my state-of-the art kitchen. I know Sonic probably could use a pick-me-up right now, after all.”

“Thanks, Ames! You’re the best!” the hedgehog in question said cheerfully, the promise of good food and great companionship boosting his mood significantly.

Then, his posture shifted once again into something a little more vulnerable. “And thanks to all you guys. For, y’know, everything.”

“Of course!” Amy chirped.

Tails smiled at him. “No problem, Sonic.”

Sticks folded her arms. “That’s what a team’s for, ain’t it?”

“Of course it is!” Knuckles said, in that rather confusing manner where nobody was actually sure if he understood anything about what had just happened.

The echidna actually walked over to Sonic after that particular declaration, though, placing a hand on his shoulder as his face became uncharacteristically serious for a second. “Really, Sonic, we can all help you out, alright? Nobody gets to yell at our leader without getting yelled at back!” he declared, punching a fist into his other hand.

The hedgehog blinked twice before looking up at his friend. “You…just called me the leader?”

“Well, duh! That’s why everyone calls it Team Sonic, right?” Knuckles asked with a smile, letting an awkward (but genuine) grin spread across Sonic’s face.

Within seconds, the hero found himself squeezed in a big hug from all sides by his friends- and then actually lifted off the floor through a joint effort from Knuckles and Amy.

“Guys- come on! I can’t even move here!” he cried out, his legs flailing so quickly they made a vibrating noise in the air. “Guyyyyssss….” he whined, though nobody seemed to care much about his halfhearted complaints (judging by the happy expressions on their faces).

Then, the episode began to end, as evidenced by an iris out transition. The slowly shrinking circle paused for a moment on Sonic’s current expression, highlighting it against the otherwise black screen. He now sported a sheepish, if slightly pleased smile, complete with a faint pink blush on his face from all the positive attention.

Clearly Sonic liked being, well, liked far more than he let on.

Then, the circle snapped closed with a pop, and the credits began to roll.

[Voice Actors:

Roger Craig Smith

Colleen Villard

Travis Willingham

Cindy Robinson

Nika Futterman

Mike Pollock

Kirk Thornton

Wally Wingert

Bill Freiberger

Original creation by:

Evan Baily

Donna Friedman Meir

Sandrine Nguyen

Bill Freiberger

Takashi Iizuka

Writer/editor:

Solalunar “Sol” Eclipse

Thank you for watching reading.]

#sonic boom #sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #knuckles the echidna #amy rose #sticks the badger #i really really hope this new format was a good idea #i just had some very clear ideas about this fic that couldn't be expressed in the usual medium of character actions and dialogue #because sonic boom is very different from the sonic games and often uses camera and music-based references #(i may not roll credits every time though- just thought i'd give it a shot haha)#anyway!#i also wanted to ask: is there a particular way people would like me to use for replying to the wonderful comments i get in the tags?#because i want to let the people who take the time to leave comments know how much i appreciate it #but i'm not sure how to go about that #any suggestions?#and finally:#next time...shadow's going to show up! i can't wait to write him #as always #thanks so much for reading!#:D #sol's fanfiction

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smokeonshadows · 3 years

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We need to talk about the Bobbseys

Strap in, kids. This is going to be...a lot.

To put it bluntly, the way the Bobbseys were handled was messy, unnecessary, and probably the worst thing about an otherwise great season.

It's really disappointing because the Nancy Drew writers have already proven themselves to be not only good writers, but also socially conscious writers. They actively and publicly aim to be inclusive in their storytelling, so I think it's fair to hold them to that standard.

There was a lot of potential in the Bobbseys–they're a morally ambiguous brother-sister team of codependent twins from a rough/tragic past who sometimes lie, cheat, and steal in order to make ends meet. This is interesting, this is full of possibilities as to how they could fit in with the Drew Crew, and, most of all, this was a great opportunity to have complex representation of the south asian community that subverts popular stereotypes (model minority, traditional upbringing, perpetual foreigner, etc.). Amanda and Gil would've been great characters in their own rights...but instead they were used as nothing more than cannon fodder for an unnecessary, half-baked love square with low key racist undertones.

Problematic elements

I've already talked about the racist undertones in previous posts, but in a nutshell, Gil is portrayed as being controlling/aggressive/domineering (particularly towards Nancy and Amanda) and it's a stereotype that south asian men (and I'd say black and brown men in general) are misogynistic, aggressive, and otherwise abusive towards women. This portrayal is made even worse because he's meant to be a foil for Ace, a soft/gentle/sensitive/emotionally stable white guy who Nancy is obviously meant to be with. And for Amanda, she's also portrayed in line with the stereotype of asian women being very submissive (particularly to their male counterparts). I don't think any of this was intentional, but it's just not a good look.

This problem could've at least been somewhat alleviated if Gil and Amanda had been written as fully fleshed out characters who were going on their own journeys and were consequential to the story, but that didn't happen.

Stereotypes aside, another problematic aspect of the Bobbseys is that they both fall into the unfortunately common trope of being the character of color that the white character has a superficial relationship with and leads white character to realizing that they should actually be with this other white character who's been there all along.

Even when they have roles in the episode apart from being superficial love interests, oftentimes they don't do much aside from being useful for getting the Crew from point A to point B of a mystery.

Underdeveloped relationships

Was I the only one who found the resolution of the Nancy x Gil relationship in the season finale to be a bit abrupt?

While I appreciate that they showed how seemingly small transgressions within relationships can actually be red flags and that a situation doesn't need to escalate to full-on physical abuse in order to count as domestic violence, I found that the moment when Nancy has this realization and then breaks up with Gil lacked the emotional weight befitting that situation. I think this was the case because Nancy and Gil barely had a relationship. There was attraction and sexual tension, they hooked up a few times, but it was never shown to be a real relationship. It's not just that we didn't often see them together, but with or without him, Nancy didn't think much about Gil or what he thought of her and, more importantly wrt the breakup, we aren't shown all the ways that his treatment of her affected her sense of self or the way she operated. Nancy's relationship with Gil was inconsequential, so the stakes were low.

And yes, casual hookup situations can also turn abusive, but from a narrative standpoint, the way this particular situation was portrayed, it was given both more and less weight than it should've been given. It felt like the writers wanted the breakup to be big and impactful but they not only didn't work for that payoff, they also wanted to resolve it quickly so they could move onto more important plot points (the breakup was at the beginning episode and Nancy never mentions it or even hints at any emotional fallout from it ever again).

(Amanda was done dirty)

Actually, if anything, the big dramatic breakup should've been between Amanda and Gil. Even with her severely limited screentime, almost every time we do see Amanda, we are reminded of how close she is with Gil, how badly he treats her, how much she values his opinion, and how smothered she feels by him. And it sucks that we never actually get to see Amanda make the realization, stand up for herself, and confront Gil. All we see is Ace encouraging her to break away and then cut to her living her best life post-sibling breakup.

In the end, it's as if Amanda's pain and suffering was made to be less about her and more about Nancy/being evidence that Gil is not good for Nancy. Again, not a good look.

And Amanda and Ace's relationship is also underdeveloped compared to the impact that the writers seem to want it to have. Like, I don't understand why Ace would give her a pseudo-ultimatum ("I'll prioritize you if you prioritize me") at this stage of their relationship. Yes, they do seem to be more of a relationship than Nancy x Gil, but it always felt like they were very much in the budding romance stage. While he does talk about her when they're apart, we still rarely saw them interact with each other outside of the context of Ace needing to use Amanda's connection at the hotel or to her father or brother in order to help solve the mystery. And we don't learn more about or see a different side either character through their relationship with each other.

Poorly executed, unnecessary love triangles

The whole point of having a love triangle is to raise the emotional stakes.

It's always been my belief that if you're going to have a love triangle, you need to commit to it. That means making both legs of the triangle equally viable, developing both romantic options and both relationships equally.

As noted in the sections above, this was not the case with either love triangle, which makes the whole thing feel cheap and unsatisfying. Like I said in a previous post, I think it would've been more powerful if Nancy had two really great options, but in the end chose Ace because that’s what her heart really wants no matter how great the other guy is.

Anyone with a healthy understanding of love and relationships would choose Ace over Gil. It's no contest, no real choice, so it adds nothing to the conversation, it says nothing about Nancy or her feelings for Ace. It's inconsequential, the emotional stakes are practically nonexistent.

Literally, I feel like if you took the Bobbsey love triangles out of this season, Ace and Nancy would still end up in pretty much the same place wrt their feelings for each other. I mean, yes, the whole jealousy/green eyed epiphany thing did play a role, but the relationships with the Bobbseys featured so little and were so underdeveloped that it would be more or less the same as one of them flirting with a background character every once in a while.

And Nace still didn't end up together after all that! It's hinted that for some reason, Ace will be stringing Amanda along next season while he pines for Nancy. Which is exhausting.

This is really what we sacrificed two perfectly interesting characters of color for. I'm upset.

#nancy drew cw #gil bobbsey #amanda bobbsey

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bts-hyperfixation · 3 years

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Love You Too Much

Part 13

Yandere!Namjoon x Army!Y/N

Warnings: Yandere fic, this chapter mentions nausea. Smut in the next chapter

(back)/(next)/(masterlist)

The underground is extremely busy when you board, but Joon manages to snag himself a seat. He tugs you down into his arms and cages you too him; tightly hugging your waist to keep you from sliding off when the train jerks. You blush noticing the eyes on you, public affection isn’t common in places like this. Instead of focusing on the glares of other passengers you try to look around the cabin, unfortunately, you don’t get very far before Namjoon stops you.

“You can’t look around; you’ll figure out where we are going too easily.” His eyes lock with yours showing how serious he is about this being a surprise. You pout back at him, bringing your finger up to poke at his cheek.

“Then what am I supposed to do for the next hour you said we would be down here?” The question is answered with a small kiss, and then another, and another. He kisses all over your face as you turn redder and redder at the attention. You try to push him back a little, but the death grip he has on your waist won’t let you.

“I know I could keep this up the entire time.” He says in between each peck. Its makes you giggle as his voice vibrates against your skin. You keep wriggling until he stops. Sighing dramatically he adds “Unless you want to spend the time on your phone, that’s good too I guess.”

“That sounds like a much more appropriate plan,” you confirm laughing. You kiss him once more before pulling out your phone for the rest of the journey. With each stop more people exit without being replaced, but even with ten empty seats around you Namjoon won’t let you slip off his lap grumbling and burying his fae into your neck every time you try. Anyone else would be thankful for the reprieve, having someone sat on your lap for so long can not be comfortable. Eventually the train changes from underground to overground and you can see the city around you.

Clearly nowhere near the massive towers and bustling stores of the centre. However, there is a very suspicious looking building on the horizon. The tops of blue turrets can be seen hidden in the distance. You dare to glance around the train and find a lot of people wearing character clothing and excessively bright colours.

“Joon?” you tap at his arms to get him to lift his head away from where it rested on your shoulder.

“Hmm?” he answers, a little smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Are we going to Disneyland?” its hard to contain your excitement, as you start to bounce a little in his lap.

“I don’t know… are we?” he raises an eyebrow at you, completely failing to keep the grin off his face as he watches you get more fidgety.

It feels like the rest of the journey takes a lifetime, even if it is just two more stops. Namjoon lets you up just as the door slide open. You take his hand and follow him through the station. Instead of the expansive white walls and large advertisements of the other stations this one is coated in rainbow Disney character silhouettes, all it doe is add to the knot of anticipation that’s building in your stomach.

Along the walk-way different Disney princess theme songs play leading all the way from the station doors to the gate. Pathways are framed with cherry blossoms and ornate streetlamps. Even before you reach the park they try their best to make sure guests are fully emerged in the experience. A giant inflatable Donald Duck welcomes people from the nearby lake, many waiting to take their pictures with the beloved blow-up character.

You slow to take in your surroundings but Namjoon seems determined to carry on. He squeezes your hand to bring you back to him and starts moving a little quicker.

“Come on there is a ride I really want to take you on, but the line can be pretty long so the sooner we get through that one the better.” He smiles back at you but your stomach drops. You hadn’t thought about the rides. Yes it’s a theme park… but it’s more of an experience situation. Big rides are terrifying. As you waited to be admitted into the park you tried to come up with a way to break it to Namjoon gently that fast rides weren’t for you. He just looked so excited, and maybe its time to try something new.

Luckily being a weekday the line for entry was reasonably short. Just inside the gates there is a board with described wait times. You chew your lip anxiously as he searches for the ride in question. He doesn’t even bother to tell you the name before heading off in, what you assume is, the right direction. It doesn’t take long to reach the dreaded thing; Shanghai is a reasonably small Disney park after all.

*Soaring Over the Horizon*

Terrifying…

The ride itself seems to be in a large amphitheatre. Hidden so you can’t tell how bad it is. Joon tries to keep heading for the ride but you force him stop.

“I’m sorry Joon… I’m… I’m not good at rides.” You force your stomach to stop flipping as he studies you. It’s uncomfortable for a moment and then his normal relaxed demeanour reappears.

“I promise you this one isn’t bad baby.” He reaches out to push a stray hair behind your ear. “It’s like a cinema, you get lifted up to watch a movie, no scary rollercoaster I promise.” You nuzzle into the warmth of his hand, allowing it to calm you a little. “If you don’t like it you just close your eyes and most of it just goes away. After the turn you had in the tower, I would never risk putting you on a fast ride. I just had all of these big plans 0for what we were going to do today. I know you’ll enjoy it all if you just try… Don’t you trust me?” the last words sting a little. The tone too severe for the context.

“Of course I trust you,” you take a deep breath and steel your resolve, determined to show him that you have faith in him. You charge towards the queue as he falls into step behind you. Inside the building is stunning. Modelled after temples in a desert, the ceiling has been strung with a million tiny lights to make it look like a clear night sky. You lean back into Joon to get a better view of what’s above you, also using his solid body to keep you grounded. The closer you get the more you regret you decision to force yourself onto the ride. With each shuffle forward you can feel your heartbeat faster. He must feel it too because he tightens his grip on you and leans down to whisper in your ear.

“I’ve got you Y/N, every moment.” The tension in your shoulders loosens a little, until it’s your turn at the front of the queue. The attendant usher two dozen people into a new room to watch a video. A video in Chinese. You glance around at the other guests wrapped up in the magic of the ride. Kids as young as eight stand around you, and you can’t help but feel a little silly. As the preamble ends, doors open to your left and you are told to strap into a row of seats set out like paraglider. You place your loose items in the tray under your chair and strap your self in, clinging desperately to the chair arm on you left and Namjoon on the right.

When the ride starts to move you can’t help but squeal, making Namjoon laugh. You shoot a glare at the idol before returning your attention to the screen at the front of the ride. It takes you throughout the world. 3D images of the world’s greatest wonders and animals. The entire show is breath taking, you almost don’t want it to end. But it has to.

You are lowered back to the floor and sent on out into the park. The stress of working yourself up hasn’t helped the queasy feeling that had been lingering since the bout of vertigo, Namjoon wraps his arm around you shoulder and pulls you close.

“See that wasn’t so bad was it.” He grins, you try to match his enthusiasm with your reply but apparently there is no hiding your unease from him. “Come on I think you need lunch before we do anything.” You start to protest, determined to do all the fun things he had planned. However, your stomach grumbling beat you to the punch. You check your watch to find out it had been a long time since breakfast.

“Okay, where so you want to eat?” you end up leaving the park. Just outside there is a large selection of restaurants to choose from. He pulls you into the cheesecake factory, citing something about familiar western food being easier for you, although you can’t hide your disappointment at not being able to try more traditional Asian dishes. The food is great though, and you get to share dessert. He orders an oreo cheesecake, feeding it to you from his fork “Accidentally” getting it on your face and leaning over to kiss it off. You can already feel the boost in blood sugar helping you to feel better. By the time he has paid the cheque, you are more than ready to take on the rest of the park for the afternoon.

Masterlist

#kim namjoon #bts fic #yandere bts #bts smut #bts fluff #namjoon fic #rm fic #yandere namjoon #namjoon smut #namjoon fluff #rm fluff #rm smut #bts disney #nausea mention

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rankuros · 2 years

Note

KINNGGGG i wanna hear ur SINGINgf also how do u do it on the internet ND SHIT

aw i'm so sorry i was asleep when you sent these. also i'm answering publicly because i worked really hard on this and i'm an attention whore <3

https://soundcloud.app.goo.gl/JtKieEFCV7BtZAXS7 here is my favorite solo ever but it's like eight years old hhhahha (in jp)

https://twitter.com/r4nsetsu/status/1499543423942017027?s=21&t=TymQWkkhekI-WtIskXK4tQ here is one of my karaoke songs since you said i had good taste JFJKEFJ (in en)

https://soundcloud.app.goo.gl/riJe3tAc3wCJwdbbA here is my comeback from last year (i failed at mixing this so i think i will re-mix it when i am better at doing that HFJKSJFJFK i do love shrieky vocals in my voice tho) (in jp)

https://twitter.com/r4nsetsu/status/1500281411185647619?s=21&t=giIbl15LU9WmTbn1hWY86g here's an emo mili song bc i am soo dramatic (in en)

https://youtu.be/onhI9oNXu7c here is my favorite collab ever!!! i am second from the right (in jp)

logistically how do i sing on the internet? i use:

1. blue snowball USB mic. many people will tell you to get an XLR mic, which is better quality, but also requires extra hardware to actually connect it to the computer so it's a higher price point. i wouldn't necessarily recommend that for just getting started! if i manage to record again when my current life situation is resolved i will probably upgrade tho because i am trying to learn to mix better so i want sexier mic quality. I HAVE ALSO USED THE MIC FROM ROCK BAND FOR THE NINTENDO WII which works SURPRISINGLY WELL. it was a USB mic i already had lying around and it gets the job done! in theory a mic is the only thing you might need to purchase to get started so it is a pretty low cost of entry hobby, i think my snowball was $50 ish but there might be better recommended USB mics these days

2. reaper to record and mix (technically paid software in the same way winrar is paid software, i have run it on an "evaluation license" for thousands of hours) it is unfortunately SUPER unintuitive and if you are open to p*rating adobe products i 100000% recommend adobe audition over reaper. however i am lazy and have never tried to get my hands on audition since i grew a pair and stopped paying for it :) reaper also has a built in manual TUNER which is soooooo nice because melodyne, while easier to use, is expensive (🏴‍☠️)

3. straight up just youtube and google for the instrumentals i need (i always make sure i can find them before i record bc most things have an instrumental available somewhere, but not all!). sometimes you can also find a reference for the harmony lines of a song and go really ham and record those too! or some people can just harmonize by ear but i am usually not very good at it so if i can't find a ref i just don't do it HAHA

4. soooooo many tutorials on youtube! i most recently learned how to time vocals without making them choppy, like how to stretch or shrink a syllable if multiple people are singing so they are more in unison. it's a lot of fun to learn things! (except EQ. learning EQ is part of why i'm on hiatus because it made me hate myself. all the homies hate EQ)

5. various video editing software which not everyone prioritizes anymore! the youtaite community specifically, which is where i have been on and off for almost 12 years holy shit, is youtube based so video is a big part of it. you can also usually charm ppl into making simple videos for you (i know this for a fact bc i am the ppl getting charmed into making simple videos for others)

and most importantly, i have

6. a ✨big fat ego✨ about my voice to allow me to sing on the internet because it can be really daunting!!! i used to perceive some really unpleasant tone in my voice and it took me a long time to come to terms with it, and i used to compare myself to everyone. karaoke and musical theater have done a lot for my relationship with my voice <3

[i was going to talk even fucking more about my Process here but i feel like i am writing a book. idk how much ramble you signed up for!! but if you think this is for you i would love to answer questions or help out]

ALSO IT IS SO MUCH FUN TO WORK WITH OTHER PEOPLE! oh my god! i did a chorus battle last year and most of my team was in GERMANY! that's so far away we would NEVER have met and we worked so hard and made something together!! talk about human connection!

also you can sing literally whatever the fuck you want. i have not joined the choir in my community because i do not want to be stuck singing what the choir sings. i have not done any musical theater since RENT because i do not care about most musicals. i want to sing whatever i feel like singing and whatever is most fun and meaningful for me. it's my voice and i get to decide what to do with it etc

in conclusion: singing on the internet can be so rewarding and there is a pretty hoppin community of other people who sing on the internet who will be nice to you and offer advice/answer questions and sing songs with you. and it is really goddamn time consuming but i like it a lot. bye

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writingindulgence · 3 years

Text

Painting Nails with Gojo Satoru (x reader)

Pairings: Gojo Satoru x (unspecified-gender) reader

Genre: Good friends with some mutual pining, a bit of fluff and a bit of uncertainty, reader has their mind in the gutter for a split second

Lmao, how long can someone write about painting nails T.T 2800+ words

When you recently mentioned that you had no free time to refresh your nails due to the influx of odd jobs here and there, you didn’t think that it would lead to your long time friend, Gojo Satoru, sneaking into your room at the Tech with a bag full of nail polish.

He was in the middle of laying them out haphazardly onto the coffee table. Colours ranging from neon bright to the darkest of shades stood before your very own eyes on full display. Their shapes were as varied as the palette. Standard round, rectangle shapes, funky stars and fragile butterflies just to name a few.

The shock of what was transpiring had yet to register in your mind, a dumbfounded look creeping onto your face.

It wasn’t even the first time that this has occurred. Once in a while you would come back from a mission in another city, ready to fall down onto your bed in the one place that you could call home, only to have this excuse for a friend barge in on your time of relaxation. Sometimes, you didn’t inform anyone when you would be back in the hopes of being left alone but he always seemed to find out the best time to annoy you. When you were tired.

“What the actual fuck are you doing in my room Gojo-san?”, you drop your tattered bag onto the ground before closing the door.

The feeling of his incoming whines and guaranteed pout had become something of a sixth sense to you now. You thought that maybe he would grow out of it after his teenage years but the gods weren’t as merciful as you once believed them to be.

“(Y/n)-channnn, why are you so mean to me? I haven’t done anything for you to call me that”, he dramatically groaned out before flopping onto your bed.

Glancing at the table, you notice that his sudden movement knocked over some of the bottles.

You also know what he meant by that. You only ever call him ‘Gojo-san’ when he screws up or when you are both in the presence of his students.

As much as he likes to tease you in front of important people, you aren’t that unprofessional as to disrespect him as an educator in front of the students that he teaches. The kids already make fun of him and if you were to join in at the same time then you would begin pitying the man.

You walk over to the sprawled lamp post of a human and indicate with your hand to scoot over before proceeding to throw yourself down beside him.

“What is this about, Toru-kun?”, your eyes lazily scan over the nail polish. Of course you know what is going on but Gojo Satoru is a man that enjoys being humoured.

Poor Ijichi-kun ends up as the victim of a lot of his whims when you’re away. Scratch that, even when you are around the unfortunate fellow gets bullied like a kindergartner at a playground.

“So~ I’ve noticed that your nails-,”

“I mentioned it.”

“.. have been looking rather-,”

“I mentioned it.”

“..duller than usual so-”,

“I-”,

His body flew up from the lying position and a hand suddenly came into your view. Before you could do anything, Gojo clamped it over your mouth, an unseen eye-roll definitely going off under his blindfold.

He wasn’t really irritated but you took it as a win for all the times he irked you in the past month.

“I NOTICED YOUR NAILS LOOKING DULLER THAN USUAL SO I WENT OUT OF MY HUMBLE WAY TO BUY THESE,” he finally lets you go after finishing what he wanted to say.

The sheets under you have become disheveled, your thrashing around to get away and shut his loud mouth in case Principal Yaga hears brought about no results. There was no rule against being in the same room, you weren’t some silly teenagers and even if you were, the Tech wasn’t that strict anyway, but the thought of his disappointing gaze burning into your soul…

Your thoughts are disrupted when Gojo throws two pillows onto the floor. Knowing that there is no escaping this, you dust down your clothes and gracefully sit down.

Who knows? This may actually turn out to be relaxing. Even if you’re wrong then spending time with friends is precious, no matter the activity. Especially in this line of work. There is no telling when one might hear the news of their comrades’ death.

Gojo sits on the other free pillow and smiles. “Any colour pulling you in? If not then I would love to recommend, you know, I’m sort of an expert at this.”

You laugh slightly at his confidence before agreeing to his proposal. As long as it’s not too ugly then you really don’t mind what he ends up picking.

In fact, you trust his judgement when it comes to fashion. His casual outfits always end up taking your breath away. You’re forever glad when he forces you to go along with him to the shopping district. You know your style and what you’re comfortable with but Gojo presents you with something unique every time.

“Hmmmm...then, what about this one?”, the hand that was under his chin as he was contemplating leaves its position and he quickly picks up a (f/c) nail polish.

The container is cute too, a glass cat face. Though how did he figure out what colour this was with that blindfold? Only Gojo knows.

You reach out for the item but he leans back and pulls it to his chest. Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion.

“(Y/n), (Y/n), (Y/n)...,” he creates an X with his arms before continuing, “Bzzzt! Did you really think I would be so rude as to leave you alone with that tedious job? Who do you take me for?”.

He grasps the fabric where his heart is located and fakely sniffles. Oh, so he wants to paint them for you. Figuring out that you may as well indulge in a little care, you extend your hand for him to hold.

Gojo twists the nail brush open and dips it into the bottle a few times. His tongue is poking out as he tests how much of the liquid is on the brush. You don’t even question how he will paint your nails without seeing properly. Understanding his infinite capabilities has become second nature to you.

Instead, you focus on the feeling of his hand when it grasps yours.

It’s bigger and somewhat rougher, though not uncomfortable. Really, it feels secure to have around your own.

Jerking back at your line of thinking, you can feel the heat growing on your face by the second. Calm down there, no need to get ahead of yourself. You’ve held hands many times in the city before so that you don’t get ‘lost’, how is this any different?

“Hey now!,” Gojo grips your hand more firmly than before.

“Sorry, sorry. I had an itch,” you come up with an excuse and double down when you scratch your shoulder with a free hand.

He doesn’t say anything in return, there are none of his usual comebacks. That’s suspicious, he always needs to have the last word in no matter what.

Instead he applies the first stroke of nail polish on one of your nails.

His movements are steady, no shaking, and he doesn’t miss any spots. The process is...pleasant, being attended to by another.

He moves on to your second finger, repeating the action from the previous one, applying just as much attention.

Now that you are sitting still, barely breathing as you look on, his hold has become almost airy. Unless you focused purely on the skin to skin contact, it was as if your hand was levitating.

Ah, technically he could be using ‘Infinity’ and keeping your hand away but...it made you feel weirdly unhappy. Your mouth tugged down in dissatisfaction unconsciously.

At the same moment, Gojo grasped the next finger on the list, the sudden feeling coming as a surprise. You barely held in the shocked gasp, tingles travelling up your arm.

He didn’t say anything and continued the procedure.

You peeked at his face to see if you could read him but there was nothing at all to go off on. No smile, smirk, pout or frown.

Sheer concentration.

It wasn’t unwelcome, in fact it was peaceful without the usual banter. And it wasn’t unbearably serious either. If you had to put a word on it then it felt...intimate.‘Wow, what the hell? Chill, he’s only a friend and this is simple nail painting’.

The clock in your room ticked continuously until eventually your fingernails were all finished. It took extra long because Gojo insisted that the proper way to do it was to paint two layers. So in the end you had to sit through another few minutes that honestly felt like an eternity.

You hoped that you hadn't sweated with how warm it had gotten on your end.

“Alright! It’s your turn (Y/n)-chan,” he made finger guns and pointed them at your bewildered expression.

“It isn’t fair if only you get this spa worthy treatment, no?”.

“Satoru, I think you overestimate my ability to paint nails. Of course, I do a fantastic job on myself but I am hopeless when it comes to others,” you explain.

You may have over exaggerated a bit but if this goes on then your thoughts will enter dangerous territory, not that they haven’t already.

Distractions aren’t helpful when you are a jujutsu sorcerer, particularly in the romantic scene.

Have you daydreamed about such scenarios? Yes.

Would you like to experience them? Definitely.

However, what you want and what you can have are at odds with each other.

“Don’t be a bore, come on, come on,” he sticks out his own hand before thinking up something and reaching towards his blindfold. “Let’s make it a challenge. I had such a difficult time so you have to suffer too”.

He frees his eyesight and stands up. You’re about to follow but he shakes his head and kneels behind you.

The smooth fabric covers your eyes and the pressure as he tightens the blindfold rubs against the back of your head. This feels like the beginning of a dirty situation-

A resounding smack travels in the enclosed room as you slap your cheeks simultaneously. This isn’t the time nor place.

“I’m accepting my resolve,” you throw out before Gojo can ask you why you hit yourself in the face.

You hear him shuffle back to the pillow as well as glass tapping against glass. A nail polish bottle is shoved into your unprepared self. “I’m in your hands now,” he laughs stupidly to himself at his own pun. You can’t help cracking a small smile too.

Blindly, you fiddle around in front of you, wanting to start this. Clicking your tongue, you’re about to give out but Gojo finally decides to stop being a prick and gives you his hand. His shakes from laughter make themselves known but you ignore him.

Unscrewing the bottle cap, you get to work.

Only, you have to feel around for his fingernail. It’s impossible to hit the target without searching around first.

You become overwhelmingly aware of the close proximity yet again and your heart skips a beat. The fact that you can’t see anything makes it far worse as your sense of touch becomes more sensitive. Your shaking hand dabs the point where you think the nail polish goes and you begin painting.

Gojo’s amusement must have stopped too since you don’t hear him chuckling anymore. Is he looking at you? Or is he looking at his poor skin whenever you miss the fingernail? He doesn’t have his blindfold on so his eyes have to be focused on something.

But what?

The silence becomes unmanageable and the constant skin against skin friction twists your insides. Is it just you? Or does he also think the same way?

“You know, you have pretty eyes. If you start an Instagram page with photos of them then you’ll get a following in no time,” you offhandedly mention to start a conversation. Knowing Gojo he’ll take the compliment, tease you a bit and move on. You shift around in the pillow before progressing onto the other hand, having speedrun the first, before he starts talking.

“That’s not a bad idea. You can do the eyeshadow and we can make some money,” he hums in agreement. The sound of extra cash nearly makes you drool but then a realisation hits you, like a truck an isekai protagonist. If you were to do the eyeshadow then you will no doubt have to be very close to his face. No way.

“On second thought, I don’t think we have the time,” you laugh it off.

His disagreement comes soon after.

“Haaaaaaah?! Then why did you mention it?”. His muscles tense, about to pull back to cross his arms but he remembers that you’re in the middle of painting his nails.

After that, you both fall silent again.

In the end, you get through the last finger and close the nail polish bottle. You tried your best, having taken your time despite it making you feel a certain way whenever you had to touch him longer than is necessary.

You get up and reach out to unhook the blindfold but larger hands stop you in your tracks from behind. They pull yours away and drop them at your sides.

“Allow the amazing gentleman, Gojo Satoru,” he gently takes it off as you stand unmoving.

When light from the window hits your face, you scrunch your eyelids shut, waiting to adjust to the bright atmosphere. A hand patting down your hair makes them shoot open and you turn around to complain.

Whatever you were going to say gets caught in your throat as you look up into his light blue eyes. His expression is serene, free of any worries but his eyes seem to be trying to speak a thousand words.

They too look composed but you get the feeling that he’s trying to communicate something to you.

Swallowing, you clench your hand (conscious of the recently dry nail polish), and place it over your chest. “Satoru..um,” you pause, not fully comprehending what you want to say, or rather, how you want to say it.

Your eyes widen when you notice his hand traveling towards yours.

Clumsily spinning around, you head for the pillows and shake off the dust that accumulated on them.

“Thanks for today. I’ll have a nap, since I’m still tired from the flight.”

You show your gratitude but hide the words your heart wanted to really express.

You don’t turn around to see his expression. The sound of his blindfold going over his eyes is what you hear first. Then,

“Don’t worry your sleepy head over it! Sweet dreams, (Y/n)”.

The door opens and closes gently behind you.

Once you’re sure that he is far down the hallway, you throw yourself onto your bed, put the pillow over your face and scream. Feeling a little foolish, you stop and look over your nails.

He really did a great job.

-Next Day-

The sun is shining brightly therefore there is no better time to take a walk. Which is why you aren’t surprised when you stumble upon Sukuna’s vessel, Itadori Yuuji.

The teenager has a tub of ice cream with him. Maybe you should get some too? Gojo is bound to have some in his mini freezer.

“Ah! Hello, (L/n)-san,” the boy waves his hand in greeting and jogs over.

“Itadori-kun, is it alright for you to be outside like this?,” you ask with concern.

There are only a few people that know about his current state of being alive. When you heard that he died, you came as fast as possible to comfort Gojo.

“It’s fine! Everyone is gone and Ijichi-san is on the lookout at the front gate. He’s meant to give me a ring you see”. He looks down.

“Oh! You’ve got some nice nails there,” he points out as he takes a bite out of the dessert. “You match with Gojo-sensei,” he adds after a second.

You pause your appreciative smile at his compliment. Excuse me?

“Excuse me? Match?,” you prod him to elaborate.

The teenager scratches his cheek.

“Ehh, but he said the plan was to match all along. Though they don't exactly look the same”.

Your eyes tear up in embarrassment at the turn of events. You’re matching nails? You thought for definite that he would wash them off when he gets back to his room. Not only that but putting the blindfold over your eyes must have been his sly way of making sure that you don't notice they're the same colour.

Itadori shakes his hands in front of him before bowing. “I-I’m sorry (L/n)-san! I did not mean to insult the way you painted Gojo-sensei’s nails. They are a bit tactless compared to yours but that’s okay,” he apologises profusely, mistaking the root of your shame.

‘That dumbass Gojo Satoru’

#gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fanfiction #oneshot #I like hands duh but if i went into more detail i would get high blood pressure

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local-ground-apple · 4 years

Note

Hii!! I just read your response to my request and gaaaaahh!!! It was amazing!!!!! And if you dont mind, I have another request uwu. How would the dormleaders be with a very short male! Reader (who will kick ass if someone makes fun of him with bad intentions) ? Thank youu!! Sakura anon🌸

I’m glad you liked it! 🍎💜

Reader turned out to be g/n, so I hope you don’t mind it. Anyway, on y va!

❤️ you and him would be an absolutely terrifying and deadly duo when it comes to dealing with commentators,

❤️ heartslabyul students have no clue who is scarier when someone makes fun of height – you or riddle

❤️ the answer is - yOu bOtH

❤️ finally someone who is smaller than him. Although it’s just 2cm, it’s still a considerable difference to him and Riddle may remind you about it few times,

❤️ he’s similar to you in one way – Riddle absolutely detests malicious comments regarding his height and they often drives him up the wall,

❤️ generally, Riddle doesn’t mind when you kick someone’s ass, bah, he would join you if he could. Unfortunately, he has a certain image to maintain and he is in no position to violate school rules,

❤️ he lets your outbursts slip and pretends he hasn’t seen them, after all, he’s impartial, right?

❤️ yells at the person who made fun of you in bad way, while you floors him down,

❤️ truly couple goals

❤️ truly supportive,

💛 Leona heard rumors about you flooring down people with such ease after they had made fun of you. He laughed at Ruggie who told him that and dismissed him with a shrug,

💛 You? Small, feeble, lanky you? Taking down a corpulent opponent? No way it could be true.

💛 Leona finds the mere thought of your tiny form kicking someon’es ass amusing. To him, you’re just a feisty kitten trying to scratch big lions around you.

💛 or so he thought.

💛 Leona’s opinion changed dramatically when he saw you fuming with anger with clenched fists, after one of Savanaclaw member made a vicious remark concerning your height. He didn’t even have a chance to react and defeat you. You just casted him a forced, bright smile, before you landed a precise kick on your opponent,

💛 Leona did not expect that,

💛 he was utterly stunned and impressed

💛deep down inside it makes him feel a little bit more assured that you can take care of yourself. But if someone even tries to offend, that person will get his ass kicked twice - by you and Leona, of cours,

💙 we all know how Leech twins solve their problems and deals with any inconveniences they meet on their way, so when Azul found out your way to get rid of bullies, he seemed unbothered and unflappable,

💙 after all, the small ones are the deadliest, at least in this school,

💙 Azul is accustomed to the violence, since he had seen seen Leech twins resorting to it, for yonks,

Oh, you floored down that person? That’s marvelous darling, now let’s return to discussing this contract, shall we?

💙 He absolutely doesn’t mind you roughing up few students or flooring them down. Azul is a calculating businessman, so he often views that as an opportunity to interfere and offer poor, unfortunate soul (who you had just been beaten up) a contract promising to give him the strength,

💙 yes, even from your height Azul can generate benefits,

💙 deep down Azul wishes he had your defending skills when he was bullied in his childhood. It would certainly made things easier for him,

💙 absolutely forbade you to join Leech twins on their “kicking some asses who refused to pay the price” trip,

🧡 when Kalim saw you kicking one guy’s ass for the first time, he was quite speechless but utterly impressed with your skills,

”wooAAH, WHEN DID YOU LEARN THAT”

🧡 asked you to teach him some moves and self-defense techniques much to Jamil’s discontent, as he had to make sure Kalim wouldn’t hurt himself trying to repeat your moves,

🧡 Kalim always makes sure you didn’t hurt yourself after kicking someone’s ass. He tried to persuade you not to resolve to using force, but just to report the situation to Crowley. Let’s just say, you laughed and called headmaster useless,

,,My method is just more effective.” ,,B-but Y/N-”

🧡 it was rather hard to disagree with your statement concerning Crowley,

🧡 deep down he is happy that you’re more than capable of defending yourself, even if he finds the idea of you flooring down 6’0 feet tall human tad scary,

💜 Vil absolutely hates that, he detests that side of yours and finds it unbearable,

💜he has to cover eventual bruises forming on your delicate skin, tend to them, fix your disheveled state and generally make you look presentable after the fight,

💜 but don’t worry, Vil is more than willing to help you overcome that bad habit of yours, after scolding you for the umpteenth time, of course,

💜 he is not the type who likes to get his perfectly-manicured hands dirty. Vil much more prefers adding few drops of refined poisons or potions to someone’s drink or harsh, vicious words which would be sufficient to intimidate everyone (maybe with the exception of Malleus),

💜 with him on your side, you wouldn’t have to worry about nasty remarks concerning your height. You wouldn’t even noticed how quickly there was no need for you to resort to violence,

💜 if not Vil himself then Rook will take care of any people who could offend you in the future,

💜 may it be a small, “friendly” talk, a bite of refined apple or few drops of special potion, Vil will solve any of your problems tarnishing your beauty,

🖤 he left his room for the first time in a month just to see you flooring down a person in such badass way,

🖤 Idia certainly didn’t expect to experience an anime-like scene in his life. He blinked few times, ensuring it was your tiny figure taking down that guy,

🖤 in his eyes you looked as cool as anime characters,

🖤you explained to him that you hadn’t learnt that through video games and offered to show him some moves. Idia politely refused, but you quickly convinced him to give it a try,

,,y’know, if you knew at least some basic moves, you wouldn’t get kidnapped by those ghosts” “IT HAPPENED ONCE”

🖤 needless to say, you accidentally broke his wrist,

🖤generally Idia finds it comforting that you’re capable of defending yourself and doesn’t mind you kicking some asses,

🖤 but please don’t teach him any self-defense, his bones aren’t ready for such revolution,

💚 after seeing multiple times Lilia brutally and with a bright smile dealing with anyone who dared to diss his height, he truly thought nothing would surprise him in that matter,

💚 well, for once in his long life Malleus was wrong,

💚 he finds it utterly amusing how your small figure takes down much larger than you guys. Lilia even offers to polish your technique, so one day you could surprise Malleus himself,

💚 Lilia thinks the height difference between you and your boyfriend is cute and he will literally never shut up about this,

,,Big, great lizard and such tiny human, fufufu~~ what a couple” “lilia, I’m literally the same height as you” “I’m centimetre taller”

💚 most of the time, you don’t have to resort to violence,

💚 after the rumor of you dating THE Malleus Draconia run through the whole school, there was simply no need for you to fight off your bullies. Practically no one dared to offend you or make any vicous remark about your height, having in the back of their mind your intimidating boyfriend,

💚 Malleus knows very well that you don’t need his help in those situations, yet just his shadow can make the students tremble in fear and run away, so they don’t even have time to offend you,

me: it’s a normal situation, make Vil just a normal guy

also me: well...👁️👄👁️

Also sorry for the delay with your requests, I’m working on them~!

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 4 years

Note

May I have a scenario/imagine, whichever makes more sense, of Trey, Rook, and Crewel trying to tame some sort of wild, magical invasive species of Poison Ivy that has taken over the greenhouse?

Crewel gives me perpetually disappointed wine aunt father vibes. This piece also lowkey turned out to be Trey x Rook, but you didn’t read that from me.

This imagine’s longer than my usual 1k word self-imposed limit, since it goes out to a friend of mine that’s been supporting me through final projects and exams. I’m not sure if they’d want me tagging them so publicly, but they know who they are.

Imagine this...

To Professor Crewel’s chagrin, members of the Science Club had never had strong academic intent. In actuality, the club was a thinly veiled excuse to bake cakes (just to find the perfect ratio of leaveners and sweeteners!) and to stalk watch students in their natural habitats (nothing wrong with an impromptu observational study, right?). Instead of test tubes and beakers, the lab benches were littered with cake pans and photographs of unsuspecting Savanaclaw students.

“I do wish you two would take this club more seriously,” Crewel would often gripe, fingers massaging his temples. “Science is not a play thing, it is a powerful tool with which we can use to redefine and reshape the world around us.”

Such were the woes of an instructor--but today, he had no time to lament.

Crewel’s jaw tightened as he gazed upon a sprawling mess--the shattered glass panes of the Botanical Garden, with massive stalks of ivy reaching for the skies. Casualties lined the ground--plants and flowers drained dry of their life, all withered and decayed. The ivy writhed in glee.

(He shouldn’t have been surprised that the headmaster summoned him and the Science Club to resolve the issue instead of hiring a real exterminator.)

“How unseemly,” Crewel noted, clicking his tongue. “Running amok and ruining so many of the specimens we’ve carefully cultivated... This shall not go unpunished.”

He glanced over his shoulder.

“Clover.”

“Yes.” Trey stepped forward, his magical pen ready.

“Hunt.”

“Oui.” Rook followed suit, smoothly drawing forth his own pen.

“The time has come to prove your mettle,” Crewel announced, rapping his pointer against his palm. His onyx eyes seethed with a quiet, controlled rage. “Show this overgrown weed what the Science Club is truly capable of.”

At his command, the boys nodded and tore off toward the Botanical Garden.

Crewel held his ground. The corners of his mouth curled into a condescending smirk as he addressed the poison ivy. “Come here.”

An arm of ivy flew at him, so fast that it was but a blur.

An alive, but livid, blur.

“Heel!”

A column of fire erupted from Crewel’s pointer. His attack slammed against the plant, settings its leaves awash in embers. The rogue plant let out a sky-splitting roar.

The battle had just begun.

Trey ducked under an arc of burning ivy and threw open the door to the Botanical Garden. Tucking his limbs in, he barreled through right as more ivy snaked in to seal off the entrance once more.

He could feel the heat upon his back, the earth quaking under his feet, and Rook close behind him--yet he willed himself to keep his eyes glued ahead, even as he launched across the threshold and into a terrifying new realm.

The inside of the greenhouse now glistened with ivy--covering the glass panes, slowly strangling what few plants remained. The Botanical Garden had always been warm before, but it was unusually so today. Sweltering, and almost so humid that the floors and walls seem to eerily pulsate with life.

“Keep your wits about you, and don’t look back, boys,” Crewel had instructed them. “Just get in there, and cut it off at its source--at the heart.”

Trey’s eyes darted this way and that. Green, green, green. It all looked the same to him. Where in the world was the point of origin?

“Got any ideas?!” He glanced over his shoulder at his partner--and his protective goggles nearly went askew.

Rook had dropped to one knee, pressing a gloved hand against the floor--now a carpet of vines. “Hoooh! What a fascinating specimen!” he marveled. “Such destructive power, and yet it also sports this emerald sheen... Très manifique!”

“H-Hey... No offense, but I don’t think now’s the time to stop and sniff the roses. Or, well. I guess it would be ivy in this case.”

“Non, non! There is always time for beauty--even in dire situations!” Rook insisted, his hands continuing to grope around. His eyes suddenly creased, and his smile turned sly. “Ah, te voilà.”

“Even if you say that, that’s not going to help us fix this...!!”

“Calm yourself, Chevalier des Roses,” Rook advised with an airy laugh. He cupped a hand to his ear and beamed. “Listen closely! Surely even your own heart beckons you to still your worries.”

“Heart?” Trey straightened, adamant as he folded his arms. “Sorry, but I just don’t believe in stuff like that. Come on, Rook. We need to focus--Crewel-sensei’s trusting us with this task.”

He cast a concerned glance at the doorway, ensnared in vines. They’d have to blast their way through later--but if they stayed in this space for too long, they, too, would soon be drained of all their life force. “We can’t just mess around!”

“Ah--but you must put your faith in me as well, Chevalier des Roses!” Rook insisted, pointing to the patch of floor that he had been not-too-subtly groping earlier. “I implore you to lend me your strength!”

“You want me to attack the gr--?!” Trey froze mid-sentence. He had become vaguely aware of a gentle sensation creeping around his ankles.

In an instant, he was yanked into the air, dangling upside down like a useless rag doll. Blood rushed to his head, and his surroundings spun.

“Chevalier des Roses!!”

“I’m fine!! I-I’m fine!” Trey called--though he clearly wasn’t. “I can just--” He waved his magical pen, the air growing tense as a small ball of fire collected at his command.

“Non!” Rook warned, startling his classmate. “There is nothing to cushion your descent, mon amie! You will surely break a leg--and certainly not in the theatrical sense!”

He’s right. Trey’s fire extinguished itself, replaced by a chill crawling down his spine.

“A little help then?!”

Rook’s eyes widened. “You would give me your trust?”

“Not exactly like I have any other choice.” Trey would shrug, but it was a rather difficult motion to pull off while suspended midair--and far more troublesome, his veins ran cold. It was a sure sign of the ivy sapping his energy.

“Have no fear! Today, it shall be my turn to be the chevalier.” The hunter grinned from ear to ear, magical pen in hand.

“Please, Rook! Any day now--before I become plant food!” Trey’s voice was hoarse--from exasperation, or from the magical ivy, he wasn’t quite sure. Perhaps both.

“Just for today, I shall be your Chevalier D’amour.”

And with a confident wink, Rook plunged the ivy-covered floor into a sea of flames.

The accursed plant wailed as it shriveled to ash upon a backdrop of billowing smoke. Embers flickered and danced in the afternoon, the Botanical Garden set ablaze. Crewel took a step back, grimacing at the growing fire.

A figure emerged from the greenhouse, carrying another. The professor squinted into the smoke, pinpointing the familiar outline of his Science Club members--Rook, cradling a pale-looking Trey in his strong arms.

“Puppies.” Crewel pinched his temples.

“C’est chose faite--it is now done.” The brim of Rook’s hat eclipsed his eyes, making the typically cheery hunter appear dark to match his tone. Then he lifted his head, basking in the sunshine, and that somber moment was over. “All is well and good again, as it should be!”

“I... I thought I was going to die,” Trey groaned. “... And Rook, I appreciate you catching my fall, but you didn’t need to carry me out like you’re an action hero in a movie or something.”

“Are you able to still stand after an attack from that heinous plant?”

“Yeah. Just put me down.”

“Oui.”

Trey stood on shaky legs--and instinctively leaned on Rook’s shoulder.

“Well, boys. You’ve exterminated the ivy--as well as just about every other plant in the Botanical Garden. How exactly do you intend to atone for this?!” Crewel snapped, whipping his pointer at his students. “I believe my instructions were quite clear--destroy only the heart of the ivy.”

“The fault lies with me, Monsieur,” Rook declared, dipping into a bow. “We dallied for longer than was necessary, and in a moment of panic, I unleashed my magic.”

“Always one with a flair for the dramatic. Unfortunately, that will not serve you well in detention, Hunt.”

“Wait. Crewel-sensei, that’s not the whole story,” Trey interrupted. “Rook got me out of a pinch--and he deserves credit for that. He’s also the one that found out where the ivy’s heart was--buried in the floor itself. I didn’t realize until it was too late.”

The professor’s lips pursed into a straight line. “Clover, are you confessing to your own negligence?”

“I am.” He nodded firmly. “I’m the one that deserves the detention.”

“Trey-kun is not responsible!” Rook protested. “He is the one that attempted to set us on the right path. I refused to heed his advice, which led to events escalating.”

“I didn’t listen to Rook when he tried to tell me about what I needed to do.”

“I should have phrased it more concisely.”

“You--”

“Trey-kun--”

“Enough. It is clear to me that both of you contributed to this chaos.” Crewel sighed. “... Hunt, take Clover to the infirmary. I will put out the fire myself.

“... Are you letting us go?”

“Of course not. Once you’ve recovered, Clover... you boys will be restoring plants in the Botanical Garden for the remainder of the semester as punishment.”

“Ahhh, I should’ve known. Riddle’s not gonna like this at all.”

“Chin up, Chevalier des Roses! At the very least, we shall have each other’s company!” Rook laughs, smacking Trey on the back and sending his peer nearly doubling over.

Crewel sighed once more--he was disappointed, but not surprised.

His Science Club puppies still had a long way to go.

#twst #Divus Crewel #Trey Clover #Rook Hunt #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland requests #twisted wonderland scenarios #imagine this

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wecantseeyou · 3 years

Text

a word on color - how line of duty series 6 uses wardrobe color to frame narrative (pt 2)

Author’s note: this is part 2 for this essay on wardrobe color. For part one, read it here. This post covers episodes 2 and 3, which is the close of Act 1 of this series’ arc and the opening of Act 2. Here I discuss… things? Idk. Again, fair warning, I’m American and this is in no way, shape, or form edited and I won’t apologize for it.

ALSO: I’m feeling a bit like I’m losing my mind, and maybe this is just a COVID filming situation, but I think some of the scenes in series 6 are shown to us out of order. Now that I’m tracking every outfit, it’s surprising how frequently Kate and Jo wear the same outfits in scenes together when time (usually days) is meant to have passed in the interim. This is most clear in episode 3. Maybe I’m onto something, maybe I’m over-reading. Who knows!

Anyways, any words on wardrobe below the cut!

EPISODE 2

We open this episode with the team at AC-12, with Hastings, Steve, and gem of series 6 Chloe briefing the team on the inquiry into Operation Lighthouse, the investigation into the murder of Gail Vella. Steve is wearing his standard uniform of a navy three-piece suit, white shirt, and reddish-purple tie (more on this later). (note: the American in me wants to note the nods to nationalism and representing the ‘system’ in this color combination, but I’m actually not sure if that symbolism holds true for the UK). This scene establishes Steve’s position as Jo’s narrative foil - he is the crusader working to root out her corruption. His blue suit is his armor in the battle against bent coppers (unfortunately, not the Battle of Hastings).

Next, we return to MIT with another briefing. This time, Lomax is briefing Jo and Kate on the CHIS’s whereabouts before his murder. Jo implores him to find a witness in order to get a positive ID on ‘Ross Turner’ - is he really Terry Boyle, or Carl Banks?

We see Jo in a black turtleneck under a grey suit, and Kate is in a light brown suit jacket with green undertones over a navy turtleneck. Again, Jo’s outfit is hinting at her corruption while Kate’s is both hinting at her philosophical allegiance with AC-12 and her relationship with Jo in the color of her jacket. During this scene, we see Farida watch Kate and Jo share a look before she stands abruptly and heads into Buckells’ office. Once Lomax leaves, Kate tries to discuss the possibility of a leak leading to Alistair Oldroyd’s murder, which Jo says is an obvious line of inquiry before sharing that she believes sometimes the fewer police that know, the better.

Right after this scene, Jo learns from Buckells that Farida has requested a transfer, citing personal reasons right to the face of her personal reasons. Thought Jo was wearing black without participating in some bent shenanigans? Think again! She convinces Buckells that Jatri was a difficult person to work with and would be best elsewhere, offering to write her a recommendation for the transfer. It’s important to note that yes, Jo is getting rid of Jatri in order to remove an obstacle to her work for the OCG (which she later does to the extreme), but she also makes this choice because she genuinely cares for Farida and is attempting to get distance in order to protect her. Sure, she flips on that in a matter of days, but she does make an attempt.

In part, it’s actually Farida’s subsequent actions stalking Jo outside of her home that show Jo that her ex remains a threat to her ability to manipulate the Vella case in secrecy. You can see in the scene that Jo isn’t on her guard - she’s in her casual clothes outside of work, donning a blue sweatshirt over a grey turtleneck, all under a grey coat. In her personal space, the tone of Jo’s wardrobe is entirely cool, because despite her actions, she is at her heart someone who wants to find justice. Seeing Farida though? That makes her deeply nervous.

We then see Steve and #1 DC Chloe Bishop meeting with Gail Vella’s producer, who shares that Gail had been working on a story about police corruption for a podcast. Steve is wearing his backup uniform, a grey suit with a light blue shirt and red tie. Again, he is seeking out the truth in pursuit of justice. Here we find out the motive for Gail’s murder - she was about to expose the Central Police for what they were. Again, this is Steve acting as Jo’s foil - while she worked on behalf of the OCG to obfuscate the motives for Gail’s murder, Steve wants to seek the truth. Reporting back to Hastings, the gaffer makes Steve a DI in response to Steve hoping to use Kate as an informant on the Hill.

Enter: a right shit hole. Steve organizes a surreptitious meeting with Kate in a graffitied underground walkway (note: y’all we don’t have many of these on the east coast, is this a regular thing in the UK??). Steve is wearing the same outfit as before, but with a navy coat. This navy coat is very similar to a navy trench coat we see Kate wear on multiple occasions, including later in this very episode. This shows both his pursuit of justice, motivating his reveal to Kate about the investigation into Davidson’s team, and also their shared allegiance and connection with one another. Kate, meanwhile, shows up in a green coat. As noted before, green can be used to demonstrate the space Kate occupies between AC-12 and Jo. It is a cool tone, showing her dedication to anti-corruption, but a cool tone that exists because of the influence of a warm tone.

Steve asks Kate to again act as an informant, which she says she’ll think about, and tells her that an official inquiry into Operation Lighthouse has begun. Interestingly, Kate is actually upset that Steve shares this information with her because it puts her in a difficult position between her allegiance to Jo and her belief in rooting out corruption. She expresses this displeasure, all the way through her parting words when she insults Steve’s choice in meeting location.

Kate’s rather dramatic stomp off transitions immediately to the murder scene of Carl Banks.

Quick car interlude here! Now, I cannot for the life of me tell you the make of car that Jo drives because it doesn’t exist in the US, but I would be remiss not to note the very dark, almost red tone of the paint color. Meanwhile, Kate drives a bright blue Audi, and Steve drives a slate grey Volvo (hello Mr. Cullen). The color choices between these characters literally persist through their vehicles, which is a level of attention to detail very few shows can hope to reach.

Back to Carl Banks’ slashed up body - Lomax, per usual, gives Kate and Jo the low down on the crime scene. We then meet Farida’s replacement - PC Ryan ‘the bent bastard’ Pilkington, who conveniently finds the murder weapon. Kate, dressed in the navy coat I previously noted as a parallel to Steve’s, has a moment of recognition, but can’t place him directly. Jo, in her classic grey coat, acts cool as a cucumber at his introduction. Kate is wearing that navy coat to show her critical eye - it’s awfully convenient that they found the murder weapon so close to the body, and her spidey-senses are set off by Pilkington’s presence.

Back at MIT, Lomax continues to be the only detective at MIT to do any work, and gives Kate and Jo the low down on the forensics at the scene. Ryan quickly interrupts, and Kate asks how she knows him, but he brushes her off. The outfits for the next few scenes are very, very interesting. Kate, for one of the only times in the whole season, is wearing a black suit with a white shirt buttoned all the way to the throat. Jo looks fantastic in a dark blue suit over an orangish brown turtleneck. I’ll break down the symbolism in a moment, because our boy Arnott has gotten approval for a raid on Operation Lighthouse.

And boy does he storm into this raid in full AC-12 style! Navy overcoat, blue suit, light blue shirt, purple tie, moral high horse. But wait, Jo is there to stop the raid in its tracks after getting permission from the Deputy Chief Constable to withhold Operation Lighthouse files for fear of leaks. Steve stands there momentarily aghast, egg on his face, while Kate looks on with resolve on her face. Now, Steve’s outfit here is clear - the cool tones of his suit represent his desire to find the corruption in the Vella murder case. On its face, Jo’s outfit is also pretty clear - the warm tones of her sweater align with the way she stonewalls the AC-12 investigation.

However, it’s Kate’s outfit that I think is the most revealing. Even when the colors are neutral, Kate is almost always dressed in color and is rarely depicted in strict black and white outfits. This is a certain visual irony, as in past seasons we have seen that Kate has the most obviously black and white sense of morality. The show does make it a point to have Kate in a clear black and white outfit here, and her shirt is notably buttoned all the way to the top. This actually highlights the space Kate finds herself in that is not black and white - she is stuck between her desire to help Steve and her loyalty to Jo. This position makes her uncomfortable, and also strips her of any visual allegiance to both Steve and Jo.

But Kate has made a decision - she chose to warn Jo about the investigation, which gives Jo time to prepare. Unbeknownst to Kate at the time (we assume), this actually allows Jo some time to put others in the frame for her interference in the Vella investigation. Steve calls Kate and is rightfully furious, but she tries to implore him to think of her position, where, as the former anti-corruption officer in the unit, she has to prove her loyalty to Jo and the MIT.

Steve, not at all understanding of Kate’s position, reports this to Hastings who goes straight to the Deputy Chief Constable and gets permission for AC-12 to raid MIT again. He’s obviously not the focus of this analysis but Ted really has some iconic lines in the scene with the DCC and then after with Steve, and I love our vaguely corrupt gaffer (if he’s the fourth man, I’ll fly to the UK to confront Jed myself).

Armed with new permission from the DCC fashion icon Chloe again raids AC-12, and serves Jo with a Reg-15, which in LoD-speak is a formal request to report to AC-12 for questioning. Cue some lovely eye contact between Kate and Jo.

Speaking of lovely eye contact, here we get the first interaction between Kate and Jo where they’re outside of work. Kate and Jo debrief the AC-12 raid and Jo's Reg-15 notice while at dinner with some wine. The men at the table next to them offer to buy them another round of drinks, but Jo flashes her badge and shuts them down. She then ruefully apologizes to Kate for ruining her chances, to which Kate replies that they weren't her type and they share a smile and lots of eye contact. (Note: two of my exes have said that to me about men in the past, so the accuracy in this flirtation is remarkable.) They’re dressed in the same clothes as they were at the office, with a notable exception - Kate’s shirt is unbuttoned. Sure, is this her just relaxing after a long, stressful work day? Yes, of course. But it is also notable that this relaxation happens with Jo specifically, and she’s the one comforting Jo about the Reg-15.

Later, as the two are walking to their cars, they’re again wearing their outer layers, a navy coat for Kate and grey coat for Jo. Again, they’re both wearing cool tones, with the expectation of the glimpse of Jo’s sweater, which is a hint of her hidden corruption. They thank each other for a nice time. They do the awkward goodbye-but-no-one-wants-to-leave thing, which did in fact send me straight back to a few awkward nights after the bat. Then Kate invites Jo out for the weekend, which she's initially tentative about. They hug, which inspires Jo to tell Kate she's free since she just got out of a long term relationship, and she'd love to see her at the weekend.

Unfortunately, sapphic trysts must give way to Jo’s interview with AC-12. For the first time, we see her dressed in an all blue outfit, a dark blue suit over a lighter blue shirt, buttoned all the way to the top, which hints at her discomfort. Steve (along with Chloe in a blue shirt), is dressed yet again in his away game kit, a grey suit with a white shirt and red tie. Now, I won’t go into the details of everything because there’s still a decent amount to cover, but the long and short of it is that Jo denies all corruption, she lies about Buckells, Farida, the armed robbery, basically everything. They're about to arrest her when she says they should search Farida, Lomax, and Buckells as well if they’re investigating her, since they had access to the same information. All the while she knows they’ll find the burner phones at Farida’s and paints her as a scorned lover looking for revenge. Farida wouldn’t walk away cleanly, which makes Jo feel like she needs to more permanently remove her from the situation while protecting herself. She also sets up Buckells, having already planted evidence on him and manipulating the wrong surveillance authority on Carl Banks’ flat.

Because of this, Farida is arrested and Steve serves Buckells with a search warrant.

At first, this seems like the first time Jo has been dressed with the ‘justice’ color scheme while acting in an evidently corrupt way. It could also be read as AC-12 having ‘trapped’ her, also shown through the framing of the shot above. But as is often with this show, not all is as it appears. More on her outfit later.

We close the episode back with Jo in the all blue outfit. She is released from custody, and Ryan Pilkington, who asks her if she heard about Farida’s arrest. Here, Jo offers a rather chilling response. “That’s what happens to a rat.” Upon first watch, there’s perhaps no better sign of a bent cop. But we later learn that Ryan was sent by the OCG to keep an eye on Jo after AC-12 began snooping around the Vella investigation. What appears at first to be Jo confirming that leaks from the MIT will not be tolerated. The revelation about Ryan’s role as intimidation changes this interaction entirely. It’s not confirmation from Jo, it’s a threat from Ryan - ‘did you hear what happened to Farida? That’s what will happen to you.’ and he doesn’t move the car until she confirms that she’s heard him and understood.

The final scene takes Jo to an abandoned lot, where she meets a man who gives her a new burner phone. She picks it up, gets back in her car, and has a complete breakdown.

Now, the outfit. It’s interesting that Jo is dressed in the same color scheme as the group that ostensibly opposes her, especially as we see her lie through her teeth and manipulate the law and truth to her advantage repeatedly throughout her interview. It isn’t until we see the scenes with Pilkington and Jo crying in her car that we see her actions and her true personhood do not align. While the audience is not yet aware Jo has been manipulated not just throughout her career, but starting in her teen years, the creative team is telling us the plain truth: the visuals associated Jo with AC-12 exist because she is ultimately good.

EPISODE 3

Note: Y’all, at this point I stopped tracking Steve super closely because I think they only gave Martin two suits this season?? And honestly I’m only vaguely tracking on the Steph Corbett stuff. The long and short of it is that he’s wearing cool tones all the time because he’s the symbol of AC-12, etc, etc.

Episode 3 opens with Lomax learning about a witness to the altercation between Alistair Oldroyd and ‘Ross Turner,’ where the man identifying as Ross Turner boasted of killing Gail Vella. He quickly gathers Jo and Kate to tell them the news. Kate is wearing a simple grey sweater, while Jo is wearing a grey suit with a blue sweater and blue shirt.

We then immediately see Jo and Kate watching Lomax’s interview with this witness. She identifies the man going by Ross Turner as a man matching the description of Terry Boyle. This piques Kate’s interest, and Jo tells her to get a positive ID on Terry while they get him in for another interview. These outfits don’t necessarily relate directly to the scenes they’re worn in, but set the stage for both women’s actions throughout the rest of the episode. That’s not to say the outfits don’t relate at all, of course, but they repeat similar themes that I’ve already discussed.

Cue another interview of Terry Boyle, this time with Kate and Jo. Kate is wearing a green mockneck sweater, and Jo is wearing a navy suit with an orangish brown sweater, an outfit we’ve seen her in before. As Jo and Kate interview Terry, he grows increasingly agitated, not dissimilar to his first interview, which Jo notes to his representation. Kate keeps pushing him, trying to get a clear answer, but Jo repeatedly tries to get her to back off before eventually stopping the interview right as Terry talks about the man who ‘did it.’ The two women then get into a disagreement as Jo tears into Kate for potentially intimidating a vulnerable witness, while Kate thinks they could’ve pushed him harder. This is the first time we see the two of them disagree, which puts them at odds.

The clothing here serves dual narrative purposes. The first, with the contrasting brown and green of Jo and Kate’s clothing, we see a visual representation of their disagreement. The second purpose is actually a red herring. Kate’s green sweater does its standard job of showing both her allegiance to Jo (yellow) and her pursuit of justice (blue). Jo’s outfit, on the other hand, again ties her actions to the OCG. She stops the interview right as Terry is about to divulge more information, knowing that this will give away the real killer. We think this is because of her work with the OCG, but that’s not true at all.

After the disagreement between the two women, we see Jo watching a recording of the Terry Boyle interview, wearing a grey turtleneck. In contrast to her behavior in the interview and afterward with Kate, Jo actually seems oddly pleased by Terry’s clear statement of the other man having killed Gail Vella. Because that’s the thing about Jo, she knows how to play the game. She played the part of the perfectly manipulative bent cop by ending the interview when it seemed like some vital information was about to leak. This small moment that the show decided to include tells us everything we need to know because Jo wants the truth to come out, she just doesn’t want anyone else to know. Terry said just enough in that interview to raise alarm bells, but her actions look like someone trying to prevent that information from being revealed. That’s why Jo is wearing a grey sweater here, not the orangish brown from the interview - the cool tone shows her true desire for the truth.

I also believe this is why Kate was in the interview instead of Lomax, who we’ve seen in most past interviews. Lomax is far more laid back and passive than Kate, who mostly listens until she sees a line of questioning that she can crack open further. Jo knows her team, and she knows Kate. Getting told off by her boss when she thinks she’s on to something is not enough to dissuade Kate. Jo trusts that about Kate, and uses it to her advantage. It ties back to something we don’t learn until episode 6 - Jo sought Kate out as her new DI specifically because of Kate’s anti-corruption background. This is that reasoning in action. A former AC-12 might just be the person needed to find justice despite Jo’s personal interference.

After this, we see DI Kate “loves a car chase” Fleming tailing the escort taking Terry home, which includes Ryan Pilkington and another PC, Lisa Patel. She immediately notes that they have gone off the planned route, and lo and behold, the bent bastard drives the patrol car directly into a reservoir, drowning Lisa and attempting to drown Terry. Kate is quick to the scene and immediately gets involved, preventing Ryan from carrying out the murder of Terry. She rushes out of her (blue) car wearing a blue coat and blue scarf - she is justice incarnate.

Lomax and Jo quickly arrive at the scene, and Jo shows concern for Kate. Jo is in the same suit and sweater combination she was wearing during the Boyle interview with the addition of a grey jacket, while Kate is wrapped in a blue blanket. Jo, stuck between the OCG and justice; Kate, wrapped in a symbol of truth. Jo specifically notes that it’s lucky Kate was passing by, to which Kate agrees, not correcting her. I’ll admit, at first I didn’t really understand what Jo is playing at here. Anyone can tell that Kate wasn’t just passing by - the reservoir was well off the main road. What is she talking about?

Well, your honor, she’s leading the witness. She’s telling Kate what she wants to hear before the DI has a chance to speak the truth. Plausible deniability. We also see Jo spend an awful lot of time watching Kate as she traverses the scene, and the framing is set up to make it seem like Jo is wary of Kate. Reality, however, is a little different. This is actually the moment that tells Jo she needs to create distance between herself and Kate, not because she’s worried that Kate will look too closely at her, but because her actions nearly got an innocent man killed and she doesn’t want Kate to be at risk.

Later, we see Kate visit AC-12 in a grey sweatshirt and jeans, willing to work with the navy-clad Steve to find the leak at MIT because of the attempted murder of Terry Boyle. We then immediately see the two former partners doing research on Pilkington’s background - he has clearly caught Kate’s attention. The two trained investigators are clearly paralleled in color, both dressed in cool tones as they work to seek out justice.

Back at MIT, Jo watches Kate arrive at work from a window, wearing a red shirt under a navy suit. It’s clearly meant to be a menacing cue, especially with the red shirt, but later scenes show that all may not be as it appears. Meanwhile, Kate continues her pursuit of Pilkington by interviewing him about the crash. He seems to have all the answers, and remains polite throughout, but it’s clear that Kate doesn’t trust him. She’s wearing the same orange and blue striped turtleneck from the first episode under a navy suit. Throughout their conversation, Jo is watching from her office, again, something that appears on its face to be menacing, but may not be.

Kate’s outfit is much the same as the first time she wore it - her combined associations with Jo and AC-12 as she works to catch Ryan. Jo is wearing the same outfit as she did while watching Kate through the window, a subtle red herring from the production team. More on Jo’s seemingly big bad evil behaviour later.

After Kate’s conversation with Ryan, our resident anti-corruption officer comes storming into AC-12 headed straight to Jo’s office, where she sits wearing a grey suit, orange sweater, and white shirt. Steve is wearing his blue suit, with a light blue shirt and green tie. He shows up at MIT to ask Jo about a possible burglary in the Vella case. She doesn't know anything but tells him to ask the team, and he asks her if she hid or removed any files, which she denies. He also asks if she knows if anyone who would benefit from Farida not testifying. Cue guilty look and further denial. She tells him "You should investigate," and he confirms he’s planning to. Throughout this scene, Kate is looking on wearing a green shirt.

Jo’s outfit is obvious - she’s lying through her teeth to Steve and feels guilty for what she did to Farida. Steve has his classic AC-12 action suit on, with the change of a green tie, visually tying him to Kate, wearing a green top. Kate’s outfit obviously ties her to Steve, but as with other instances of Kate wearing green, it also shows her connection to Jo.

But wait, dear viewer, it’s been so long since our last Lomax low-down! Have no fear, because Kate and Chris are discussing the witness at the pub, and seems dissatisfied with his lack of attention to detail when he admits that he hasn’t done his due diligence to vet her. Kate is wearing a more casual blue zip-up jumper with a white t-shirt, again on her pursuit of justice. Jo watches from her office wearing a green turtleneck and grey suit.

For those counting at home, this is the fourth very obvious shot of Jo watching Kate so far this episode. And that makes sense, because this color change in Jo actually shows how her thoughts and actions are in conflict. She continues to interfere with the investigation, but she doesn’t want to be. She’s nervous about the consequences for those around her, Kate in particular.

It seems only right that this leads to date night part 2, where we get more insight into Jo while Kate grows more confused. They’re at the same restaurant as before, but they’re sitting on opposite sides of the table. Kate is wearing a light grey sweater, and Jo is wearing a grey suit, grey sweater and light blue shirt. The way their wardrobe coloring is coordinated in this moment is done for two reasons: to show that these characters have a connection, and to show that Jo’s actions in this scene are something she believes to be right.

Jo notes that it's nice to get out of the station and that it's easier to talk there. About Terry. Talk about Terry Boyle they do, and AC-12's interest in interviewing him. Kate asks about the rumors between Jo and Farida, and Jo denies it all, including her sexuality in all. When she leaves to go to the restroom, Kate has a look of confusion on her face. At first glance, this seems to be Jo separating herself from Farida for fear of discovery, but her clothes give us a hint at her real motivation. Jo is trying to discourage Kate from their burgeoning relationship by implying that she wouldn’t be interested. This clearly makes Jo uncomfortable, but it’s the first clear step she takes to distance herself from Kate once she realizes how her association with the other woman puts Kate in danger. This is also a self-preservation tactic - if she and Kate aren’t as close, it might not hurt as much if the OCG get to her.

This is also the last time we see the two of them out of work together until the fateful lorry park.

Back at work, however, the bent bastard is getting a commendation from Buckells for his heroic actions, which disgusts Kate in her grey turtleneck. She goes to leave the room but stops when she meets Jo, wearing a navy suit and red shirt. Kate uses the opportunity to fish for information about Pilkington, and is met with a surprise: Jo didn’t put Ryan on the team, Buckells did. Kate in her grey is still seeking answers about Ryan, while Jo in her red is trying to shift attention away from her bent activities (though she was honest about not looking to put Ryan on the team - she was lucky enough to have that thrust upon her).

Jo then takes this chance to swing by Farida’s apartment, and finds out that AC-12 is doing another search of the property, which clearly makes her afraid of what they’ll discover, aka her DNA all over the house.

After visiting Farida’s, we see an utterly distraught and scared Jo return to her apartment, the blue haven.

Despite Jo’s fears after visiting Farida’s, her prayers are somewhat answered in the form of one DI Kate Fleming. Both are wearing the same outfits from Jo’s cross-office staredown of Kate’s meeting with Lomax, and Kate is bearing the fruits of that conversation. She didn’t trust the witness’ statement, and had Chris do some further digging, only to discover the witness and Buckells had a previous connection. Jo, being given a hail mary, uses this to her advantage and makes Buckells her scapegoat, but not before telling Kate the absolute truth: “I needed someone on my team I could trust completely. Someone with no chance of being bent. Who better than an anti-corruption officer?” We learn later that this is exactly why Jo hired Kate in the first place, but in reality she was trusting Kate to stop her, not Buckells.

The two arrest Buckells and take him to AC-12, and we get an interesting shot of Kate leaving in the elevator, a blue cityscape behind her with the noticeable view of yellow construction scaffolding standing out against the cool colors, visually telling the audience about her bent actions.

Jo then returns to her all blue apartment in the grey suit and green turtleneck, sending a message to an unknown user at the OCG saying it's "All under control now." The green turtleneck highlights both Jo’s feelings of being trapped with the high neckline, and her occupation of the space between justice and corruption. Like with Kate before, she’s wearing a cool color, where her heart lies, and its infection by a warm color, the iron fist of the OCG on her throat.

We close this episode with Jo staring off into the middle distance, a look somewhere between relief and desperation on her face.

#line of duty #jo davidson #kate fleming #steve arnott #lod spoilers #line of duty spoilers

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baldwinboy5ive · 3 years

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My absolute aspirational, dream, reach scenario for Hawk in season 4 is not happening BUT that doesn’t seem to be stopping me from TALKING ABOUT IT A LOT ANYWAY! let’s gooooooooo

Warning: this is going to be a long walk to get to my point, I sure wasn’t kidding when I said “a lot.” SO much rambling about little bird over here. so much.

I would love to see Julie-san back, period, and I started to ramble to anyone who would listen about that, but then after I rewatched the episode where Miyagi-Do got trashed, I actually realized a few concrete reasons why I feel she’d be such a great addition to the show, if only for an episode or two!

My heart was just so broken for Daniel-san when he saw what happened to the dojo. He doesn’t care about things, he only cared so much about the Medal of Honor and the car being graffitied because those things were from Mr. Miyagi, obviously. And that appeared to totally break him, and it just made me feel so sad because in that moment he seemed so alone. I don’t think anybody had the same kind of relationship with him that Daniel did, besides Julie-san. Of course, he was like a grandfather to Sam, and he knew the whole rest of Daniel’s family, but still that isn’t quite the same. I’m sure that all of Daniel’s family just loved him so much, because how could anyone not, but the father-son relationship Daniel had with him was so special and no one else in his family had that kind of relationship with him. But someone else did.

I really wanted Julie-san to come and maybe bond with Daniel over how much they both loved Mr. Miyagi so much as a teacher and father figure after they had both lost their fathers - or in Julie’s case, both her parents.

And then I realized that she would be so amazing as a mentor too. It wouldn’t be too far-fetched to think she comes to LA to check out all this karate drama she’s hearing about if it involves a dojo called “Miyagi-Do” - she has a huge connection to Mr. Miyagi, so maybe she wants to see what’s going on with her old mentor’s other student.

It’d be kind of funny if Julie could share some stories with Daniel from her perspective of when she pissed off Mr. Miyagi so much, haha. In the same episode that Miyagi-Do got vandalized (this one episode seriously inspired so many thoughts in me), Daniel’s patience was wearing thin with Demetri. Daniel wants to emulate Mr. Miyagi so bad but what Daniel might not have realized is that once, even Mr. Miyagi came this close to losing it hahah. I didn’t even know he could get that mad, hahahaha. When Julie-san was like “You’re mad at me, aren’t you?” and Mr. Miyagi was just like... “........” ahahaha oh man. It’s just... it would be so nice for Daniel to hear from her about all this, like reading the letters Mr. Miyagi had once written.

Now, in addition to ALL of that... because I assume that Daniel would have heard and known of her from Mr. Miyagi, I do feel like it’d be amazing if, after meeting her and seeing how great she turned out, he said to her, “I know that you had to deal with a lot of anger when you were younger, and I was wondering if you might be willing to help me out with something about that. See, there’s this Hawk...”

“I love hawks.”

“not like that” and I swear to God this isn’t just that dumb hawk joke that I was dying to make, though, I promise ahahaha.

I mean there definitely is room there for that joke but Hawk and Julie would fit together so well. Even if the source of their anger was very different, she still could relate to him because she had no way of channeling her anger until Mr. Miyagi came along and guided her, and she just found so much peace after.

And I see such a parallel to when she became more self-assured and had that “If I’m ever going to respect myself, I have to do this” moment - it’s clear that Hawk has VERY little respect for himself. There is a lot of denial and self-loathing going on with this poor guy and he needs to learn how to get past that and learn to love himself.

I think the movie doesn’t go into it a whole lot but Julie definitely seemed to deal with that self-loathing a bit too with like, the expectation that her grandma would tell her “Oh you messed up, you made another mistake, you screwed up.”

Hawk still has no one to help him do these things - yeah, he changed sides at the very last minute - dude had us in the 4th quarter with 5 seconds left on the clock and we got ball - but that of course in no way means all of his other anger issues are resolved, right? He needs someone.

I actually got kind of infuriated at Amanda saying that if Robby doesn't want to come back, "You're going to have to let him go," like it's one of those "If you love something let it go" type of situations, and thank GOD Daniel pushed back on it! Thank God he did, and said "I can't just let him go," and then he said, "He has no one." Man, that part was gut-wrenching. I absolutely love Robby, I really do, but I'm actually less worried for him now. He does have someone now - I think Johnny really is going to try for Robby, and even if he does massively fuck up - which he might, or he might not - I think Daniel will still be there for Robby because he cares about him so much. Robby will, hopefully, be all right. But Hawk I truly do worry about, and Hawk I really do think actually does have no one right now. Except for Demetri, who I still hope after all this will be willing to throw down for him, but he’s his best friend, not a sensei or mentor.

I hate so much how Johnny treats Hawk and hate how he's failed him, like in multiple ways, and legitimately get mad about it sometimes, hahaha - I will NEVER get over how harshly he treated Hawk and Miguel and made them clean mats, and then ONLY MIGUEL got that honest heart-to-heart after. And this was in response to the both of them calmly asking Johnny about something instead of being accusatory, angry, or anything really, they were simply trying to have a talk with him, and then he just told them to GTFO. (Man, my HEART hurts at the way Hawk still bows to his sensei even then, before he GTFOs.) But anyway - what I'm getting at here is, it really does seem to me that Johnny just does not like even interacting with Hawk. Every single time he interacts with him, save for the one time that he gave him his new name, it's always just so hostile. It's probably at least partially due to Hawk reminding him so much of his younger self, and Johnny likely does not want to deal with or face that self-reflection at all. So to me it feels like a really tall order to ask Johnny to have any sort of real talk with this one particular student who needs him so much. And if he were to even try - would it even be productive, or would it just be more yelling?

It makes me think of how, in the beginning of The Next Karate Kid, when Mr. Miyagi sends Julie's grandma off to take a break, it's really to give Julie and her grandma some forced time apart. Everyone knew it was needed, it just couldn't happen until Mr. Miyagi could take care of Julie. Julie and her grandma were both dealing with too much - Julie lost her parents, Julie's grandma lost her child - and all they could ever do is get angry with each other. "Talking doesn't seem to help. It just makes things worse," Julie's grandma said.

And right before they part ways, Julie tearfully says to her grandma, "I've tried sometimes to just talk to you, and not get angry, but everything gets messed up and I don't know why." God, that just got to me so much. She's just a kid, and she had this moment of actually trying, and it's not her fault that she doesn't know how to fix things, and it’s okay that she doesn’t know why! Then her grandma admitted her own shortcoming by saying "Things get messed up for me, too." It was a good moment between them.

Hawk is still a good kid, I'm never going to not believe that, probably, hahaha. He was going to step up and confess to vandalizing the Miyagi-Do dojo until Kreese stopped him. (Speaking of that, Johnny had basically given all these students permission to view Kreese as a sensei just as much as they do him - and Kreese hadn't given any of them any reason yet to think he was actually Bad News. Maybe Hawk even thought that Kreese would talk to Johnny first and soften the blow, when he said he would "handle it." But, well - we saw how he handled it!!!) So, I do not put it past him to be able to admit at least a little bit of fault, or admit to feeling lost, or reaching out for some kind of help. I don't see him doing it in any dramatic fashion or anything like that, or being sorrowfully apologetic and the like, but just... you know, the way Julie said it, I could see him doing something like that. But unfortunately for him, I don't know who is there to hear that from him and then give him that help.

I really don't see Johnny ever owning up to how his negligence and hostility and favoritism contributed to how violent Hawk became... which is sad, cause even just that one small admission of "Things get messed up for me, too" was probably the first step in repairing the damage between Julie and her grandma (even if we don't get to see them afterwards). And they likely would not have been able to get there, or they would have had a lot more trouble getting there, if not for Mr. Miyagi intervening. Julie needed to hear that.

Maybe Hawk just needs someone external to come and shake things up a little bit and be a mentor, someone who isn't so tied up in this karate soap opera already. I think Daniel genuinely does want to help these kids, but I don't know if I really see him having that much sympathy for Hawk, either, and I don't know if he would understand the depths of his anger. Sure, Daniel was absolutely bullied back when he was younger, and I'm not downplaying that at all, but it wasn't to the degree that Eli went through, which resulted in a shit ton more anger than it ever did in Daniel. And then, of course, Daniel had Mr. Miyagi step in early enough to make sure Daniel's anger and need for revenge never got so out of hand. Johnny's simply not going to be able to be that person for Hawk, at least not now. But maybe, maybe one day he could get there if someone came along to jump-start it, the way Ali had to come in and knock his head loose a little about his rivalry with Daniel, and I'd really love for that to be Julie-san.

there’s definitely also room for several hawk jokes in there somewhere too

#cobra kai hawk #eli moskowitz #the next karate kid #julie pierce #cobra Kai

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mka1098 · 3 years

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In The Moonlight (You Are My Sun) Day 3

In The Bright Moonlight (You're My Sun)

Hear this story being read aloud to you at https://www.youtube.com/c/MKa1098/videos

Day Three - Tease

“Ladybug! Ladybug! Over here.” Nadia calls. Ladybug flickers her eyes to Chat Noir; they are both panting and tired from the fight. Unlike the past couple, the fight was in broad daylight and she can’t quite tell if it’s more annoying to rush off during the school day or sneak out at night. “Ladybug!” Nadia calls again and she breathes in and walks over with a camera-ready smile. “Ladybug! Tell us about the fight.” Nadia requests.

She smiles kindly at the camera where hundreds upon hundreds of people are watching her eagerly. “Well, it was rather standard.” She explains. Actually, it wasn’t. This akuma was tiring to chase down and seemed to have no worry for the general public. It didn’t seem to have a main goal -- she was just angry at society and it’s entire construct with no real goal in mind -- luckily, she and Chat were able to herd it onto a large football field. It was an anxiety-inducing fight though; anytime those violent-happy akuma’s were created, her heart rates sped up 10 fold. “Our emotions are just so vulnerable: it’s so important to not blame the victims for what happens.” She looks at the camera and hopes that people will empathize. Many of them have also been in her place, so they should understand. Nonetheless, there’s no harm in reiterating it.

“Yes, Hawkmoth will take any chance he can get.” Nadia says thoughtfully. “As easy as a bad hair day can create a wild-hair manic!’ She laughs.

Ladybug nervously laughs along, keeping face. “Yes, it could escalate but it doesn’t have to.” She preaches. “Emotions and therefore negative emotions will always happen. Let’s all stay together and help our friends who are struggling. If your friend or parents or even just classmates are having a bad day: try to help make them feel better! Make them smile; it can really go a long way. Not only are you turning their bad day around, you might also be saving the day while you’re at it.” She laughs and winks at the camera.

“Isn’t she right.” A voice calls beside her. She turns to see Chat with a mischievous and impish grin on his face. “Leave it to Ladybug to save the day even after the fight.” He says proudly.

Ladybug rolls her eyes but smiles at him playfully. “I wouldn’t call it so much as saving the day as it’s preventing further collateral damage.” She laughs.

“Savior.” Chat teases in a sing-song voice. He leans towards her, making a funny expression; she pushes him away with a roll of her eyes. He cackles along with her, even as his face is shumused.

“Hush, Chat.” She says with a smirk.

“Never.” He winks at her.

Nadia clears her throat and Ladybug turns back to her. They are..they are still on live TV. whoops. She totally forgot about the cameras and the news anchor. Her face gets red as her mask and the urge to turn around and zip off is prominent. Unfortunately, fleeing immediately is not an option she has. Everyone that’s watching her for the feeling of safety or admiration would be shell-shocked and possibly angered if she just bolted the way she often did in her civilian life. “So, is there anything else the common person can do to help our city be the safest and best it can be?” Nadia asks.

Ladybug nods. “Aside from looking out for the people we are around and love, you can open yourself up to people you’ve never talked to before -- becuasven just a small conversation can make someone feel like they have someone who cares about them and willinging wants to get to know them -- it’s important to stay calm in times of disagreement. Arguments are bound to happen: they are a fact of life. We can’t control that. What we can do in those situations is take a deep breath and think about how it might feel from the person or people’s point of view. We’re not always right and we need to know that! Breathe and speak calmly until it is resolved; even that can easily eliminate an akuma’s chance of taking over.”

Nadia nods and faces the camera head again. “Thank you, Ladybug. There are many ways to help and be a superhero!” She smiles.

“Yep!” Chat said, leaning onto his staff. “It’s a collaborative effort. Sure, Ladybug’s the face of it all-” He nudges her slightly, making her stumble. Ladybug glares at him and Chat just cheekily smiles back. “-but it’d be nothing with the help of everyone else.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m the face-”

“I would!” He cuts into her sentence.

She snorts. “Of course you would.” She gives him a raised eyebrow. Chat grins back at her in response.

“What? Think I should be the one in front?” He stretches the staff across his shoulders and flashes a grin at the cameras. “Just call me, anywhere, anytime. I’ll put my modeling face on.” He winks to the viewers at home, some of which may have fainted at the act as if he was a notable cleberite. Technically, Chat Noir is one but she’s seen too many of his childish antics to really believe that. It is shocking how smooth he is at charming the cameras and posing for a non-existent photoshoot. She can admit (only to herself in her head though; he has enough of an ego that she doesn’t need to feed) Chat has debonair.

“Yeah, yeah, chin up Chat.” Ladybug teases him, knocking him off balance. “Your 5 o'clock photoshoot is here.” She jokes.

Chat sticks his tongue out at her. “Jokes on you, five is a terrible time for pictures. The lighting will be off!”

“And how did you ever learnthat?” She snorts. Chat Noir gasps dramatically and puts a hand on his chest in mock offense.

“Excuse me, I am much more than a pretty face; although I’m not faulting you for looking there.” He smirks back at her, flickering his eyes to the camera. “I’ve got some obscure knowledge -- test me, I can pass.” He leans at her with a cocky eyebrow raise.

“Mm, you’re really putting on a show.” She says, cocking her head to the side.

“Me? Putting on a show? An act?” He says indeclously. “Never.” He nearly whispers, smiling and showing off his fangs. They gleam in the sunlight.

Suddenly, Chat Noir, all clad in his leather suit, light-reflecting fangs and staff looks a bit like a real bad boy; Ladybug hates it so much because one, it’s not him at all (though it’s entertaining enough and she will allow him some fun) and two, she doesn’t...totally hate the image in the way a teenage girl wouldn't totally hate a new cute guy at school.

“So you say.” Ladybug says, turning away quickly before she starts blushing.

Nadia seems overjoyed by the entire affair and shoves the microphone between them, at a speed which is surprising to her. “You two are very close, correct?’ She asks with a grin. Ladybug looks at her curious and nods. “Would you say…” Oh. Oh, now she knows what’s coming next and honestly, she doesn't like it. “...you’re in a relationship or will be?’ Nadia asks. Her expression looks innocent enough but Ladybug knows better.

“Oh, no.” Ladybug says, covering the awkwardness with laughter. “Not ever.” She confirms. She looks at Chat who only nods softly in agreement. He’s probably uncomfortable with the talk of relationships; it’s only been a few weeks since his break-up with his girlfriend (or boyfriend or theyfriend...she doesn’t judge.) “We’re partners in fighting crime; it’s important for us to work well together and be friends but that doesn’t equate to romantic interest.” She explains.

Nadia nods thoughtfully as if she hasn’t considered the platonically friends angle just yet. “Totally, we can all tell you’re in perfect sync.” She says with a smile. “Although, I’m sure you’re conformabelt enough that a relationship wouldn’t be weird: you already playfully tease and flirt with each other -- it looks pretty natural.” Ladybug smiles a little forcefully. God, not every pair of male and female needs to be together immediately or ever!

“Yes, well we spend a lot of time putting our lives in each other’s hands; we’ve learned to joke around. But-” She says firmly with a slight frown. “-we are just friends and it is still a work relationship to us.” She says. Nadia nods with a smile and turns back to the camera.

“Well, that’s Ladybug and Chat Noir: our heroes!” She says, babbling away as an anchor.

Ladybug sighs and prepares to leave and head home: maybe she’d take a soak to wind down and soothe her aching muscles. Maybe read a book before getting to the grueling homework? Before she can go, she feels a hand on her shoulder and looks back to see Chat smiling at her teasingly.

“So...co-workers?” He says, stifling his laughter.

“Shut up.”

“Come on! You said it? I’m just repeating it to you.”

“Yeah, yeah, go home.”

“You’ll miss me right?”

“...I’m gonna leave.”

“Hey!”Huge thank you to @shaniartist for allow me usage of their art and to @ladynoirjuly for the prompts !

Art credits: Shaniartist on Tumblr, shani_artist on IG

https://youtube.com/channel/UCqDgJF4q5oUKYvAt4qxCViADay

#miraculous ladybug #mlb fanfiction #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #ladybug #tales of ladybug and cat noir #ladynoir #ladynoir july #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfics #chat noir #cat noir #miraculous fanfic #miraculous fandom

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lesdemonium · 4 years

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romtober day 2: stuck together

Rating: T Ship: Geraskier Word Count: 2625 Summary: After a string of over-blown arguments leads to Geralt and Jaskier not talking to each other, Yennefer and Ciri take drastic measures to force them to communicate.

read on ao3

“No. Absolutely not.”

The door had barely swung open before the words were out of Jaskier’s mouth. Geralt hadn’t even realized Jaskier was there until he spoke, but he looked up just in time to see the pinched expression on Jaskier’s face. Geralt shot a glare Yennefer’s way, but she didn’t even bother to look at him. The glare was much more effective when turned to Ciri, even if Geralt did feel a bit guilty when her expression quickly twisted into shame.

Despite Jaskier’s protest, though, he walked into the apartment with Ciri, and even allowed her to close the door behind them.

“If you wanted to talk to me, you could have just picked up a phone like a normal person and asked, Geralt,” Jaskier huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Geralt mirrored Jaskier’s posture, though he turned to face the wall instead of his friend. His extremely infuriating friend. “I don’t. I didn’t have anything to do with this.”

“You two are ridiculous. Is this actually the example you want to set for Ciri?” Yennefer scolded. “Two grown ass men can’t sort out their problems and just talk to each other when they have a fight?”

“When has Geralt ever been able to talk to anyone?” Jaskier fired back. Geralt looked up to see him glaring at Yennefer, though he did also cut a withering glance to Geralt. “I tried to talk to him after the initial fight, but he refused. At least, until he called me a ‘talentless hack’ and a ‘waste of precious time and energy’!”

“I did not call you either of those things,” Geralt snapped, standing up.

He stepped closer to Jaskier, now suddenly very interested in reigniting the fight that had been going on for weeks now. Fighting with Jaskier was never enjoyable. They were both far too proud, far too stubborn, far too passionate. They often got on like a house on fire, which unfortunately had a tendency of destroying everything in its wake. Lately, though, even Geralt had to admit they had been worse. Shorter with each other, prone to more dramatic outbursts, and having knock out fights starting over nothing that dragged on for entirely too long. Even Geralt didn’t know what was wrong with them.

Geralt had a feeling that on his end, at least, it had something to do with what he wasn’t saying to Jaskier. But Jaskier had been just as antagonistic as Geralt lately, so surely the blame couldn't fall squarely on Geralt’s shoulders.

“You might as well have!” Jaskier said, and he took a step closer, too. They were practically chest to chest, in what Yennefer had often called a display of extremely unhealthy masculinity. “You all but implied that your life would be better without me in it!”

“I said it would be easier if you could solve your own damn problems for once, but trust you to twist my words until they’re unrecognizable. Do you ever actually listen to what I tell you?”

Jaskier, who was already prone to making grand gestures and talking with his hands, flapped his hands up and narrowly missed Geralt’s face. Geralt, reacting to try to avoid being hit, snatched both of Jaskier’s wrists in midair. Jaskier let out an indignant noise as he tried to pull his hands away, but Geralt did not let go.

A moment later, he wished he had, when Ciri took advantage of their situation to slap a pair of handcuffs on their wrists, cuffing Geralt and Jaskier together.

This made them freeze, and Jaskier’s face was almost comically bewildered as his eyes went wide and he turned to Ciri. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he finally managed a squeaky, “What in the world are you doing?”

“I told you I’d find an opportunity!” Ciri said proudly to Yennefer. Yennefer appeared to be trying very hard not to burst out laughing.

“Ciri, uncuff us,” Geralt insisted, fixing her with a stern look.

“No.” Her arms crossed and she fixed him with a look so unimpressed that for a moment Geralt thought he was looking into a mirror. What a scary thought that was. “You and Jaskier haven’t been listening to each other. All you do is blow up and yell and say hurtful things and storm off. I won’t be unlocking you two until you work this out.”

“Now, that doesn’t really seem necessary. We’ll be fine, Ciri, we always are,” Jaskier said. He tried to gesture with his hands, now that Geralt had dropped his wrists, but it took just one tug of their joined arms and a dirty look from Geralt for Jaskier to look suitably scolded and put his arm down. “Please let us out.”

“I don’t think you will be fine,” Yennefer said. She moved to stand behind Ciri and placed her hands on Ciri’s shoulders. The look she settled on both Jaskier and Geralt with was chiding, and Geralt wasn’t sure why he suddenly felt like a misbehaving child, but they were certainly treating him like one. “This has gone on long enough. It’s time for you two to grow up and talk to each other. You aren’t a far step from saying or doing something you’ll never come back from, and even if you don’t completely sabotage yourselves, your behavior has been exhausting to deal with.”

She patted Ciri’s shoulders, then strode toward the door. “Ciri and I will be going to a movie,” Yennefer said, pulling the door open and ushering Ciri through it. “You will have this fixed by the time we return, or you will be sleeping in those.”

The door closed and for a long moment, both men were silent, staring dumbfounded at where Yennefer had been standing.

“This is all your fault, you know.” Of course Jaskier would be the one to break the silence.

“How do you figure that?” Geralt scoffed.

“Because you’re the one that refuses to communicate with me. Grunts and hums don’t tell me shit, Geralt, and you have a hair-trigger temper!” Jaskier pointed a finger accusingly at Geralt. Geralt imagined smacking it away, but refrained.

“I have a hair-trigger temper? You went from completely calm to yelling at me last week when I suggested you used a word wrong in that song you were writing!”

“Well you were wrong and I wasn’t asking for criticism! You can’t interrupt my process with unsolicited advice while I’m still on the first draft of the damned thing!” Jaskier swung his hands up, bringing Geralt’s arm with him, and didn’t even look the least bit apologetic about it, despite Geralt’s pointed glare. Geralt tugged his own arm back harshly. “If you could stop being such an insufferable know-it-all for ten seconds and instead talk about what’s actually bothering you, maybe we would be able to work some of this out before we get handcuffed together!”

“Well maybe,” Geralt grumbled back, “If you would stop storming off the moment we have a disagreement, we could actually resolve some of them! But instead you get all huffy and run off and every new fight just rolls off the last one. Maybe they decided on handcuffs to stop you.”

“Well what do you propose we do about this now?” Jaskier asked, crossing his arms. Geralt grunted and pulled his own arm away, and Jaskier huffed in return as his arms were uncrossed. “Stop moving my arm about like I’m a puppet!”

“Stop making me,” Geralt answered. “I propose we find a way out of these handcuffs.”

Ten minutes later found Geralt storming around the apartment looking for something, anything, that would break through the handcuffs. Unfortunately, they were real, rather than cheap plastic or metal, and it seemed as if Yennefer or Ciri had the keys. What they were doing with real, sturdy handcuffs, he didn’t want to know, but he was sure that nothing short of bolt cutters would get them free. Jaskier trailed along behind as Geralt stomped around, offering extremely unhelpful and often pessimistic comments about the unlikelihood of Geralt’s newest plan working.

“At least I’m doing something, Jaskier,” Geralt finally exploded after he had heard enough of Jaskier’s grousing. “Can you do something helpful, instead of just bitching about everything under the sun? Or just shut the hell up?”

Jaskier harrumphed, but at least fell silent. Now, the only sound in the apartment was Geralt throwing open cabinets and drawers and grunting his frustration, while Jaskier silently followed along. Somehow, this was worse.

Geralt slammed a final drawer open with what he honestly had to call a growl, before scrubbing his free hand down his face. The keys were not here, and there was nothing that was going to free them, short of dislocating his own thumb and potentially scraping off half his skin. As much as Geralt did not want to be trapped with Jaskier for at least another hour and a half, he had to admit that damaging his hand was a bit of an overreaction.

“So, you’re done, then?” Jaskier asked, and Geralt could have thrown something at him. “Great, can we go sit down, then?”

They went back to the couch and they both fell heavily onto it. They sat at opposite ends, their arms stretched as far as they could while still being somewhat comfortable, and Geralt rested his chin in his hand, propped up on the arm rest.

“Gods, is being stuck with me for two hours really that terrible?” Jaskier asked after a long moment.

Jaskier let out a laugh that Geralt was sure was supposed to convey levity, but just made Jaskier sound nervous. Hurt, even. Geralt turned his head to look at Jaskier, who was staring down at the hand in his lap, an expression of such schooled stoicism on his face that Geralt almost wanted to know what Jaskier would have looked like if Geralt wasn’t staring.

“Before we could hang out for hours before you told me to shut up. Now it’s like the moment I open my mouth, you wish I was gone.” He turned, resting his own elbow on the armrest, chin in hand and faced as far from Geralt as he could go with his binding. “I just wish I knew what went wrong. I can’t just… turn it off. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

The silence that followed was uncomfortable. Geralt knew it was his turn to break it, that Jaskier had already taken his turn in trying to bridge the gap, but it was hard to form the words. There was so much he wanted to say in response to Jaskier’s question and following statement, but he wasn’t sure if he could. Apparently, he had taken too long, though, because beside him Jaskier let out a sigh.

“Just--forget it. It doesn’t matter. We’ll just… sit here in uncomfortable silence until they get back, and then I'll get out of your hair.”

“It’s not,” Geralt finally said.

“It’s--what?” Jaskier asked. His head began to turn, then abruptly stopped as his shoulders tensed. “What’s not? Not what?”

“Being stuck with you for two hours,” Geralt answered. “It’s not terrible.”

Jaskier snorted and shook his head just slightly. “Sure could have fooled me.”

“I don’t know how to talk to you anymore. I… have a lot of things I want to say. All at once. So I don’t say any of them.” Geralt’s voice was soft now. He felt stupid, talking like this. He wasn’t even making any sense. Jaskier would just be confused, and would want Geralt to explain further, but Geralt wasn’t sure he knew how to.

“Anymore? Nothing changed. I don’t understand why you would suddenly lose the ability to talk to me. And this has been going on for a while. Since… since…”

“Since the Countess.”

Jaskier stopped for a moment, then finally turned to face Geralt, his eyebrows furrowed. “Since the Countess,” he agreed. “But, Geralt--What does she have to do with anything? We broke up for good months ago.”

Geralt shrugged and tried to look away, but Jaskier tugged on their bound wrists insistently until Geralt’s irritation built enough for him to scowl back at Jaskier. Jaskier looked unamused--his lips were pursed as he raised his eyebrows and dipped his chin meaningfully at Geralt.

“We’re finally getting somewhere here. You can’t close off on me now,” Jaskier said, sounding exasperated.

“Things were. You were serious, with her. I thought that was it for you.” Geralt’s face grew hot as he spoke, and he had to look away again. Straight ahead, as if the wall was the most interesting thing he had seen for a long time.

Jaskier did not seem to care that Geralt was embarrassed. He turned more to face Geralt head on, and inched closer until his knee was just barely avoiding touching Geralt’s thigh. “Why would that mean you’re not able to talk to me? Because I was in a relationship? That’s kind of shit, Geralt. You and Yennefer were pretty serious for a while, and nothing changed between us. Besides, Virginia and I broke up.”

Fucking Jaskier. He wanted specifics, and Geralt didn’t know if he could give him that. Honesty about his feelings were not something Geralt was particularly skilled at.

“I… didn’t like you two together.”

“I’m really not sure, one, why you wouldn’t have voiced your concerns earlier, or two, how that was any of your business. But. That doesn’t exactly matter, considering we broke up. Why didn’t things go back to normal, then?” Jaskier’s voice was so serious, so confused, as if he was trying to solve a particularly difficult puzzle. Geralt didn’t understand how he wasn’t getting this. Jaskier was supposed to understand implicit, nebulous ideas.

“Because I had already realized why I didn’t like you two together. And why I didn’t like any of the people you rebounded with after.”

“And why was that?” Jaskier asked. Geralt scowled, and Jaskier snorted. “Geralt, I know you think you’re bearing your soul to me right now, but all I’m getting is you talking around something. Careful, if you don’t throw me more of a bone, I’m going to jump to the conclusion that you were jealous of Virginia or the other people I’ve hooked up with since.”

Geralt didn’t answer, just stared up at the ceiling until he heard Jaskier gasp beside him. Jaskier scooted closer.

“Geralt,” Jaskier said, insistently. Geralt grunted. “Geralt, look at me.” Geralt did, and immediately clammed up at just how earnest and awed Jaskier looked. “Geralt, do you want to go out with me?”

The question was met with a scowl and a groan, and Geralt looked away again, only for Jaskier to place a hand on Geralt’s upper arm.

“No, I’m sorry, I was--I wasn’t clarifying, I was asking. Would you go on a date with me? Like. As soon as possible. Immediately.” Now, his soft, breathy laugh sounded a bit embarrassed. “I didn’t--I didn’t know this was on the table. If I had, I would have asked you out a lot sooner, we could’ve worked out whatever aggression in a much more fun way, if you catch my meaning--”

“Yes, Jaskier,” Geralt interrupted, just to get him to shut up. “I want to go on a date. Just stop.”

Jaskier laughed and nodded, scooting forward again until he was practically hanging off Geralt’s arm. Geralt met his eyes again, faced with a wicked grin.

“We could get a head start, if you wanted. On date-like activities,” Jaskier suggested.

When Yennefer and Ciri returned almost two hours later, Yennefer threw the keys at them and told them to get a room, only to usher Ciri back out the door groaning something about Men. Geralt and Jaskier barely noticed.

#geraskier #geraskier fanfic #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #geraskier au #geraskier modern au #my writing #octoberfest #me: i won't be posting before work anymore #me literally the next day: posts before work #but we are celebrating #romtober

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walpurga-nacht-academy · 3 years

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Djinn’s Bride! ~A Celebration of Love~

Part 8

[Walpurga Nacht Academy]

[Djinn’s Lamp]

Rosa/Marcia: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-

Djinn: Hey, hey, don’t be so dramatic! You’re totally spoiling the mood! We gotta offer the people a good show after all!

Rosa/Marcia: HAAAAAAAAA? THIS SORT OF NONSENSE IS STARTING TO GET ON OUR NERVES!

Diana: Enough.

Rosa/Marcia: E-Eh! Di-Diana…

Diana: We’re wasting time here. Let us end it.

Vita: Indeed~ ‘Tis little jest has come to its conclusion.

Blanche: … That might be so, but-

Marcia: We’re trapped in this lamp until this guy lets us get out!! Have you forgotten about that already?! Huh?! Don’t just assume we can walk out of here freely!!

Rosa: Yeah!! We’d definitely have done that a long time ago if we could!! … right?

Vita: Fufufu~

Rosa: Hey… This might just be my impression… but…

Marcia: You’re laughing like you know something, aren’t you?

Vita: Hm~

Marcia: But there’s no way you knew how we could get out of this situation from the start, right? That’s just impossible, right? You wouldn’t make us go through all this, just so you could amuse yourself, right? Right?!

Vita: Mm~

Agatha: Ehehehehehehhehe…

Marcia: I’VE HAD IT WITH YOUUUUUUUUUUUU!! WHAT KIND OF MONSTER CAN ACTUALLY DO ALL OF THIIIIIIIIIIS?!

Blanche: Marcia. That’s enough. Yelling at Dies-senpai right now won’t accomplish anything, so let’s think of a way of escaping this place before it’s too late. And for that…

Diana: We’ll have to rely on Vita.

Vita: Indeed~

Marcia: … Might as well call it in.

Vita: How cruel~ Though I have been amused by this little escapade, I am afraid the novelty has worn off.

Marcia: … Haaa, you say that but I feel like you’re still playing a trick on us, you know? I’ve had my rope pulled at enough for today, so my heart can’t handle it anymore…

Blanche: That’s why I’m saying we need to stop fighting among ourselves and work together to resolve this situation.

Marcia: Mmmmm… but working together with Dies-senpai is…

Blanche: It’s… not an ideal situation, but we have no choice. Remember that even the Eight Witches would put their differences aside to come together upon the Bald Mountain. We must strive to follow in their footsteps.

Diana: Mm.

Vita: How very eloquently decreed, my dear hare~ Unity is such a wonderful concept after all~ Fufu~

Marcia: She’s lying.

Rosa: She’s definitely lying.

Agatha: Big… Sis… is… very… funny…

Rosa/Marcia: I knew it!!

Blanche: In… In any case… about our predicament… Dies-senpai…

Vita: Ah, that. Very well. I shall indulge you this once~ Say, little hare, what ‘tis that you know about the nature of our mysterious assailant?

Blanche: The characteristics of a djinn? That is rather difficult to tell. They are quite rare even in the Land of Hot Sands and the last sighting of one was during the age of the Sorcerer of the Desert. Though even that is considered a mere legend now…

Vita: One must not debase themselves so low as to forget that the consciousness of people is but a fragmentary existence. If you continue to reflect upon every whisper that comes your way, then you may as well become a worthless mollusk incapable of thought.

Blanche: … I see.

Vita: The world is a vast endeavour, my dear. And knowledge lies in every corner. One must simply seek to uncover it. The matter of the djinn at hand, for example. ‘Tis an interesting rumor I had once heard of a young man who found a young djinn lady astride his horse one night, riding the creature to exhaustion. To take revenge upon the spirit he inserted an iron needle into her sash which terrified her so greatly she was forced to listen to his commands. ‘Tis not a most fascinating story~?

Blanche: … Indeed. Your knowledge of such obscure matters is rather impressive, Dies-senpai.

Vita: I seek to humble after all~

Marcia: So… what you’re saying…

Vita: If we are to subjugate the creature by force, we shall be able to command it to release us~

Rosa: Su-Subjugate… That really sounds like Dies-senpai…

Marcia: WHAT A NICE PLAN! LET’S DO IT!

Rosa: EEEEEEEH?

Vita: I was certain you would appreciate the finer details, my dear~

Marcia: Hehehe… bring it under our command… Mm! I like the sound of that! Then we’d be able to escape without anybody having to marry… and even after… hehehehe

Rosa: Geh! You have an evil glint in your eye right now! You’re planning something, aren’t you?! After all that happened today!!

Marcia: Haaaa? What’s wrong with looking at the positive side, huh?! If I don’t dream big my heart will stop beating!

Rosa: What a lie!! I don’t believe a single word you say!! You opportunist!

Marcia: HUH?! WELL, YOU’RE-

Cass: U-U-U-Um!

Blanche: Cassandra? Is something wrong?

Cass: N-No! I-I-I-I mean, um… On the matter of su-su-subjugation, um…

Blanche: Ah, it’s unfortunate, but it seems we have no other choice. I know it might be bothersome to you, so we won’t force you into it.

Vita: What a wonderful sentiment~

Agatha: My… heart… is… bursting… with… compassion… ehehehheheheheheh

Blanche: …

Vita: Indeed~ Yet, are you overlooking a simple matter, my dear?

Blanche: Overlooking… what do you- Ah.

Rosa: Hm? What? What’s going on? What’s this about overlooking? Hey, don’t leave me in the dark!! Hey!! Hey!!

Diana: We are lacking our claws.

Rosa: … Eh?

Vita: Though one is eager to brandish a weapon, they must make certain to possess it first~

Rosa: … Ha?

Cass: U-U-Um, it’s the ne-needle, Miss Mo-Morgainne…

Rosa: Hm? What about it? Won’t it work after all?!

Agatha: How… nice… it… must… be… to… lack… any… brains… hehehehehe

Rosa: GRRRRRRRRR!!! AAAAH, THIS IS REALLY GETTING ON MY-

Marcia: If it’s the needle then it’s no problem!

Cass: E-Eh?! Re-Re-Really?!

Marcia: Yup, yup~ After all, Blanche always carries some with he- MHHGJHGJHJKH!!

Rosa: A-AMAZING! I’ve never seen Blanche move so fast in my entire life!!

Diana: Rabbits are good runners.

Rosa: Th-That’s true…

Marcia: MKHHJKJMHHJH- GAH! WHAT’S THE DEAL, BLANCHE, HUH?! JUST WHEN I WAS ABOUT TO MAKE A GOOD POINT TOO!

Agatha: Those… are… rare… hehehehehehehe…

Blanche: … You should think before you talk about other people, Marcia.

Marcia: HAAAAAAA? SO YOU’RE OK WITH STAYING HERE FOREVER JUST CAUSE YOU’RE EMBARRASSED BY SUCH A LITTLE THING?! GRRRR! NOW YOU’RE SERIOUSLY MAKING ME MAD!

Blanche: He-Hey!! Wait!! Get your hands out of there!! Marcia-

Marcia: A-HA!

Blanche: !!!

Cass: U-U-U-U-Um… is that…

Diana: A needle.

Marcia: Hehe, you’ve got a nice eye there, Diana! That’s right! It’s a needle! Made out of pure iron too, I bet!

Agatha: To… think… the… hopping... chowder… had… it… all… along… hehehehehe…

Rosa: Yeah!! What’s the deal with that, Blanche?! Why didn’t you want Marcia to tell us about this?! Or rather why didn’t you come forward with it from the start?! Huh?!

Blanche:... Personal matters aren’t to be put on show like this.

Rosa: Eh?! Personal matters?! Eh?! I don’t get it!! I don’t get it at all!! It’s a needle, isn’t it?! It’s just a needle, so why-

Marcia: Haaaa, it’s always like this.

Rosa: Huh? What are you talking about?

Marcia: Even when you helped me fix that tear in my sweater back then, you still acted like it was some super confidential secret. It freaked me out, you know? Can’t you just be a little bit more honest? It’s not like this sort of thing matters. Being able to sew isn’t such a big deal…

Rosa: HA?! THAT WAS THE SECRET?! WHAT THE HELL IS UP WITH THAT?!

Marcia: I know, I know~ It frustrates me too.

Blanche: … Maybe so. But I do have a question. Marcia.

Marcia: Hm?

Blanche: How did you know I would have a needle in my pouch?

Marcia: Hm? That’s where you keep your sewing kit, right? Where else would it be since… urk…

Rosa: Hey… How did you know she has a sewing kit in her pouch?

Marcia: Hu-Huh?! That? Uh, o-obviously I saw her pull it out when she used it to fix my sweater! Ye-Yeah!

Blanche: I did not bring out my sewing kit back then, however. For you to see it… The only explanation is…

Rosa: …

Cass: U-Um…

Diana: …

Agatha: Hehehehe…

Vita: My, my~

Marcia: Wh-What’s with those looks you’re giving me?! I didn’t do anything bad! I swear! You gotta trust me!! Hey!! You guys!!

Rosa: Aah, Marcia’s being scummy again…

Marcia: HEY!

Blanche: Going through another girl’s pouch is a regulation offence. You know this, don’t you?

Marcia: I’m telling you that I didn’t do anything wrong!! Aaaah!! You’re being super annoying right now!! I was just looking for a band aid, that’s all!! Got it?! Just a band aid!!

Blanche: … Is that so?

Marcia: It is!! Grrr!! I was coming from practice to our tutoring session, when I saw I hurt my knee!! You were out to get something from the cafeteria and since I knew you’re the responsible kind, I figured out you’d have some band aids in your pouch!! And by the time you came back, I was so hungry I forgot to mention it!! That’s it!! That’s the whole thing!!

Blanche: I… I see.

Rosa: … Hm.

Marcia: What?!

Rosa: I was wondering how an idiot like you was able to pass classes with such high grades, and even make it to Prefect. Now it makes sense. It was all thanks to Blanche’s hard work, wasn’t it?

Marcia: … Having a moron like you say that to me really annoys me, Rosalia.

Rosa: MO-MORON?!

Marcia: I don’t get why you’re so high and mighty when your grades are just as low as mine. It’s kinda laughable. Aren’t you ashamed of your own lack of performance?

Rosa: Th-That… Uh!

Marcia: At least I’m doing what I can to keep them high. So having somebody diss me like this, puts me in a bad mood. You know, I think I actually had it.

Rosa: Hu-Huh? Had it… Marcia, what…

Marcia: You can be as snide as you want, but I’ll show you that I’m not just a leech. I have my pride too. There have been many times when I had to go against my instincts, but the goal I want to reach can’t be touched by those without a steely resolve. But I doubt somebody with an easy life like you could understand…

Rosa: Ma-Marcia…

Marcia: So watch closely, ok? I’ll show you how Marcia Pyroeis won’t sully her name by tucking her tail in and running away. I’ll confront the Djinn and get us all out! I swear this!

Rosa: MARCIAAAAAAA! I’M SORRY! TO THINK THAT YOU’VE ALWAYS BEEN THIS COOL! I MISJUDGED YOU! I TOTALLY MISJUDGED YOU!

Marcia: Heh. That’s alright. I’m not the kind of person to hold a grudge. Now, stand back. It might get dangerous.

Rosa: MARCIAAAAAAAAA!!!

Cass: Mi-Miss Pyroeis!

Blanche: … Marcia.

Marcia: Hm. What is it, Blanche? You can’t change my mind, so don’t even try it. I’ve already chosen my path and nothing-

Blanche: You know that if you subjugate the Djinn you can only ask for one favour, right? So your plans of getting rich quick…

Marcia: ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! ISN’T THAT MESSED UP? THEN WHY AM I PUTTING UP THIS SHOW FOR, HUH?!

Cass: … Um…

Marcia: Haaaa, and here I thought that if I went first, I’d get to bag two birds really easy. Crap. Gotta rethink my plan.

Rosa: … To think that I ever looked up to you. I was a moron. A real idiot.

Cass: Mi-Mi-Miss Morgainne! Ple-Please have a tissue to dry yo-your tears!

Marcia: Geh. If there’s no money to be made out of this, then I’m out. Blanche, you can have a go with the ne-

Diana: Marcia. Behind you.

Marcia: Huh? Behin-

Djinn: Hm? So it’s you first, girlie?

Marcia: ARGH! DON’T SNEAK UP ON ME LIKE THIS!

Djinn: I was sure you wouldn’t be interested after all the fuss you made earlier, but…

Marcia: E-Eh? No, no, no, no, no,! You’re mistaken, I’m just-

Djinn: Who am I to deny you a chance for redemption? LET THE ROUND STAAAAAAAART!

Marcia: HEEEEEEY!! WAAAAAAAIT!

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#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #twist #twist oc #twisute oc #twisute #walpurga nacht academy #djinn's bride #djinn's bride event #marcia pyroeis #blanche dion #rosalia morgainne #cassandra delphinne #agatha voisin #vita dies #diana arrow

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subtlereferencetomyinterests · 4 years

Text

Communication Issues (AT:TTSIMBCMEOAYSFIL)- Chapter Three

Ao3, MasterPost, Chap.1, Chap.2

Relationships: Eventual Romantic Analogince, Romantic Prinxiety, implied background Moceit

Warnings: Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Self-isolation, Arguments, Unintentional Emotional Repression, Body Horror (in the form of Remus being Remus!), swearing, some small descriptions of pain, self-deprecations. There’s some fluff in the middle cuz I’m not pure evil, but this is pretty angsty :3 (I promise it’ll have a happy ending u just gotta wait ok). Remus uses it/its here, and is also aromantic.

Word Count: 8,167

Now, dramatism isn’t one of your functions, so you like to think that you’re being entirely reasonable when you say that you’d rather die than inform your closest friends that you’ve grown to love them a bit more than platonically.

And yet, here they are. Sitting on your couch, in your cluttered room, staring up at you with expectation in their eyes. They’re waiting, Logan. You didn’t actually expect to avoid this forever, did you?

Maybe you did, but it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve been wrong.

But you digress: you owe them the explanation they came here for. And as you open your mouth to speak, your voice is not nearly as measured as you’d like it to be.

“As I said before, It was never my intention for you to think I did not want to see you- that is to say, it simply wasn’t feasible, given- well- there were certain complications, you see…”

Virgil narrows his eyes, bemusedly, from his contorted position across the arm and top cushion of your couch.

“What kind of complications?”

You look at the carpet, but it doesn’t offer much visual stimuli. You look up at the ceiling, but the angle makes your neck ache. You settle your eyes on your bookshelf instead, studying the multi-colored covers of novels that span the length of the entire opposite wall.

“...Complicated ones.”

Virgil snorts, a sound that usually has you thinking about just how adorable he can be, but the sound is devoid of humor in its current form.

“Care to elaborate, Teach?” Roman inquires, his legs folded comfortably under himself as he watches you. He’s managed to keep himself pretty still and quiet, though you aren’t sure if that’s attributed to his current restraint or the effects of your room.

You push your glasses up on your nose. They fall back to their original position. You repeat this action almost compulsively.

“It’s foolish- Very foolish. I know this is somewhat hypocritical of me, but I believe it is for the best that I do not burden you with it.”

“You aren’t a burden!” Roman squawks indignantly, in conjunction with Virgil snipping: “We’re well past that, buddy.”

You feel your face heat, embarrassingly enough. You aren’t sure why, but their instant and vehement defensiveness for you is a bit motivating. They… they won’t hate you for it. They might even understand, if you’re willing to be optimistic about this.

“You could call it. Jealousy, I suppose.”

“Jealousy?” Roman scrunches his nose, uncomprehending.

“Yes- I know it isn’t exactly fair of me to feel this way, but it’s the unfortunate truth. I have noticed that the two of you have become much… closer, than you once were,” you see the two of them flush in embarrassment, which only serves to prove your point. “Rest assured, I’m very happy for the both of you and your bond. It’s just that I’ve realized that I have become essentially irrelevant, which I find to be… upsetting. And I know you both are far too kind and non-communicative to outright tell me this, thus I decided that I would take matters into my own hands by giving the two of you your much-needed space willingly.”

You do not add that you’re also avoiding them because you can barely stomach being around their PDA. It seems unnecessary, and maybe a tad pathetic.

Virgil recovers from his embarrassment at your calling him out quickly enough, his abashment being engulfed by indignation. Oh, wonderful. They really can’t let up without a fight.

“What the hell are you talking about?” His anger is clear, but all three of you know that he’s only upset at the situation.

“I would love to remain as your friends, of course, I only meant that it would be best if I didn’t interrupt you two-”

“Interrupt us?!” He’s very near shouting, leaping up from his seat and stalking towards you. He stops less than a foot away, and you try desperately not to recoil from him.

“Yes,” you sound meek, don’t you? “It only made sense-”

He stares at you as though you’re an idiot. It’s a despicable look, but when you turn your attention to Roman for a reprieve, his expression is no different.

And then they- oh, what they do next brings you more pain than any expression ever could. It starts quiet, like they’re trying to hold it at bay, but their resolves crack and crumble.

They laugh. They’re laughing at you.

You shouldn’t have let them in- not into your room, not into your head, not into your life at all. You should have known that when your genuine emotions came to light, they’d only find it humorous in the end. Because you, Logan- Logic, your ‘feelings’- they’re hilarious. They are nonsensical and hardly befitting a being such as yourself, yet you have them! And you actually began to speak about them! What a comedic situation. You’re a fool in every sense of the word- both a jester and an idiot.

They aren’t even laughing that hard, but to you each small sound reads as a raucous, villainous cackle that tears apart your skin and leaves you raw. Roman’s head is tipped back and he appears to be shaking with amusement; Virgil is trying to press his lips together and stifle his chuckling, but he’s doing a poor job of it.

Something writhes in you, much uglier than your shame or guilt. It squirms beneath the layers of your skin and runs up and down your spine, tensing your muscles with its electricity. It’s fury, burning nearly as bright as your face surely must be with this humiliation.

How could they, tricking you into caring for them, convincing you to help them and support them, only to then heckle you when you hand them your trust. It was such a fragile thing already- which you know is preposterous, trust isn’t tangible, but in this moment it feels quite like a cracked window finally shattering to useless shards.

“Out.”

Virgil is startled into silence immediately; Roman makes a strangled sort of sound as he stops laughing.

“What?” They chorus, both looking ready to contradict you with drawn out and over-emotional arguments.

You won’t give them that satisfaction.

“Get. Out. Of my. Room,” your shaking speech is blanketed in monotone; it’s like a towel thrown over a forest fire; it won’t last long.

Their eyes widen comically. They speak all over each other, clamoring to explain or excuse their actions, but to you the pleading is naught but white noise.

You gave them a chance to leave of their own volition, but if they’re so keen on remaining a nuisance, then fine. You huff a sigh, turning your back to Roman and Virgil. With a snap, their chatter cuts off unceremoniously, and you are left cold and lonely.

When you turn around, they’re gone.

<<<???>>><<<???>>><<<???>>>

You don’t get a chance to react before you’re thrown upwards through the floor of your bedroom. You land in an unceremonious heap, half-on and half-off of your bed, losing your balance almost immediately and toppling to the floor. Rising up makes you dizzy enough as it is, but being forced away from somewhere makes you want to vomit.

You pull yourself up from the ground, holding your head in your hands until the world stops spinning. As soon as your brain gets working again, you can hear thunderous footfalls out in the hall. They stomp right past your door and down the hall. There’s a series of loud thumps, rattles, and shouts, before whoever it is retraces their steps.

You walk to your door as if on autopilot, opening it just as Roman was about to knock. He’s panting, distressed.

“We fucked up,” he says.

“Yeah,” you pull him inside, slamming the door behind him, “We did.”

“I didn’t mean to, you know that right? I wasn’t laughing at him, I wouldn’t, alright?” Roman spirals, “He thinks I did! It was just ridiculous, was all! To think that we don’t want him around- to think-”

He curls into himself. You catch his hand before he can press it against his chest, unfolding him. You hold his wrist and rub little patterns into the back of his hand.

“Ro, hey.”

He glances up at you, wild-eyed. Eyeshadow is already creeping its way down his face.

“Why don’t we talk about this in your room instead, hm?”

He nods, shaking, with a small mutter of ‘right, right’. You nod back, holding onto him just tight enough that your claws don’t quite dig in.

You materialize in Roman’s room, dragging him along with you. Almost immediately a fierce pulse of energy overwhelms you. You stagger in shock, but Roman doesn’t even blink at the force. He pulls away from you and falls upon his massive, plush, circular canopy bed with a despairing whine. You can’t really blame him.

The Creative power of this room takes its effects on you faster than any other side’s abilities could- you really wonder how Roman is so used to it. You sit on the bed beside him, intending to comfort him as he buries himself further into his hoard of pillows. But then, you can’t. You can’t sit down. Far too much troubled excitement is pooling in your stomach; far too many ideas and thoughts are running through your head, and the loudest of them are desperate appeals to start fixing this mess.

Anxiety and Creativity wouldn’t theoretically mix well, but that’s just the thing about theories. They’re often wrong, so very wrong or crackpot or conspiratorial. The truth of it is Creativity and Anxiety work together wonderfully, both as concepts and as actual, metaphysical creatures. You’ve known this, even if you won’t admit it, since you were all teenagers. But only now does it hit you just how much Roman’s abilities can do for you. It takes all of your energy, all that pent-up fear and frustration from what’s just happened, and it gives you the tools to actually use it for something.

It also makes you, ya know. Just a little recklessly confident.

“Alright, Princey, get up.”

He whines again, shifting his head just enough to glare at you.

“I’m wallowing in self-pity! For the reason that one of my dearest friends thinks me a- a bully! How are you not freaking out about this?”

“Honestly?” You wrap your hands around his wrist again, pulling him into a ragdoll-ish sitting position, “I’ve got no idea. Mentally I think I’m in the fifth dimension or some shit, so we gotta work this out quick before I come back down and really lose my mind.”

He grumbles, but you see him biting back an amused smile. Flopping his legs over the edge of the bed and making no movement to stand, Roman narrows his eyes up at you.

“Alright, alright. We need to give that conversation another go, I know that, but we should give Logan some space first. He’s unlikely to hear us out now. You know how headstrong he is when he gets… like this.”

You nod, vacantly, because you're already three steps ahead of where he is in the conversation.

“Yeah, good point. More time.”

“Right,” Roman draws the word out, looking at you strangely, “So why aren’t you moping with me?”

You pull the reins of your practically palpable energy enough to sit down, right next to him.

“We obviously have to work out this-” you gesture between yourself and Roman, “-before we can really talk to Logan,” once the sentence is out of your mouth you wish you could swallow back the ‘obviously’, because Roman is usually slow on the uptake and you’d never intentionally make fun of that. But he does nothing more than scrunch his face up in exaggerated confusion, the pink tint to his face giving away that he must have at least some idea what you’re implying.

“What- what do you mean by that? The two of us already get along famously!”

“I think you know that’s not what I meant. You’re using your stage voice. You always do that when you lie.”

“Who are you- Janus?” He cough-laughs awkwardly, breaking eye-contact with you. You’re surprised that you’re holding up any better than him, but your strongest reaction at the moment is a mild blush and some prickling at your skin.

It is for these reasons that you both love and hate Creative-Mode Virgil. He is a very productive and efficient version of you, but his propensity for acting bold and impulsive makes you want to strangle him. Him being you, of course.

“Look, Logan was wrong to think that he was a third wheel, or whatever, but I’m pretty sure he was right about the… closeness with us, I guess.”

Roman’s staring at you with wide eyes, a deep red flushing him from his ears right across his nose and cheeks. He’s clearly trying to smile, but it’s coming out awkwardly strained, almost twisted sideways. There’s a second when the anxiety rushes back to you in a wave of oh no you misread this so fucking bad of course he doesn’t feel that way about you you’re his best friend whatthehellwereyouthinkingVirgil- and it almost wins you over, but you’re in Roman’s Room. And that doesn’t just mean motivation and creativity.

Your paranoid thoughts could never beat what’s ingrained into you as a fact. You can feel the romantic tension, almost like it’s a physical presence in the room. Maybe it is. A part of you- most of you, in fact- still wants to convince you that you’re doing something wrong. But it’s getting harder and harder to believe the longer you sit here, knowing that these emotions you feel aren't entirely your own.

“Virgil,” he breathes, and you can feel it on your skin- when did you get so close?

“We don’t have to do anything about this,” you start to backpedal, but you don’t move away from him, “Not if you don’t want to, yet. I just… we had to talk about it, I think.”

“So you…?”

The hesitance in his voice destroys your resolve. You reach out, tucking up both of his hands in your own.

They’re warm.

“Yeah, I- yeah.”

He surveys you for far too long; it’s hard not to squirm. You let him watch you, though, just so he can find whatever it is he’s looking for in your expression. When he does, it only draws him in nearer.

“You and Logan are right. I love you, V.”

You try not to smile. It doesn’t work.

“I figured.”

He huffs at you, shoving you, but he’s grinning widely. You roll your eyes at him. You don’t speak for a while, holding your tongue for as long as you can- but you really need to say it. Just so he knows.

“I love you back, though. Or- something like that, I don’t know…”

Roman laughs outright at that, tossing his head back. You can already feel the energy you were given twisting into an entirely contradictory exhaustion. Because of that, you don’t even try to pretend to be annoyed; you just watch, fondly.

When he’s settled, that amused look turns sharply to worry.

“So now what?”

You pause, running your thumb over his knuckles as you think the question over.

“Logan?”

“Yeah, that.”

“Well, like you said, we give him some space.”

“And then?”

You glance up at Roman for confirmation, but you don’t need to. Like you said, you can feel it; his room is a pretty big snitch.

“We tell him we love him.”

You let yourself forget about what happened, just for the afternoon. It’s hard, but what choice do you have? It’s out of your hands for now. And, while usually that makes you even more nervous, you manage to force yourself into the shape of something vaguely undaunted. After all, if you can’t tell Logan just how much you care about him, you can still remind Roman.

In your own way, of course.

“Hey,” you mutter, for what must be the millionth time that evening. Roman turns his attention away from the vent-art he’s working on, glancing at you.

“Yes, Knightmare?” He asks, but the tired and affectionate smile on his face says that he already knows your game. Damn, and here you were thinking you were subtle. (not.)

“Mmh,” you press your face into the side of his neck, leaving a few miniscule kisses to the skin there. Your arms are twined around his waist, a position that bordered on- oh, who are you kidding, it’s exceptionally clingy.

The embarrassment that you feel from so openly displaying such sappy, disgusting affection is overturned, however slightly, by the quiet laugh and kiss to the top of your head that Roman returns to you for your efforts. You hide your smile in the crook of his neck.

You continue to shower Roman with attention for a minute or so, covering his face with little pecks and pressing yourself against him, before leaning back a few inches. You sigh. He resumes his work, resting his back against your chest as he does so.

You will let him continue to draw for ten or so minutes. You will ask for his attention again, and he’ll give it to you with a slightly wider smile than the last time you did it- that smile grows exponentially, but only by tiny increments.

You’ll kiss him all up his neck and the side of his face, hug him even tighter, listening to him laugh in a much too relieved voice before you let up once more.

And he’ll be a little more sure of you each time. A little more sure that you two can do this together.

<<<???>>><<<???>>><<<???>>>

You are not a patient entity when it comes to the things you want. You are, in the best of cases, the exact opposite. This gets about One Million Billion times worse when the one thing that you want is to declare your love for someone, and said someone hasn’t left his room even once in six days.

Virgil, Patton, and Janus (once you’d relayed the situation to the latter two) have essentially been keeping you on a leash at all times of the day- or night- to make absolutely sure that you don’t break Logan’s door down. Which- to be fair- you wouldn’t put it past yourself to do that, but still.

But even with the distraction of a new boyfriend (boyfriend!!!!) and those two overbearingly caring friends of yours, you are still Physically Unable to Not Do Anything currently. And, you suppose if you can’t break Logan’s door down, you might as well try that idea out on someone who wouldn’t bat an eye at such an, ah, intrusion seems to be the fitting word.

“Uurghhhhh!”

You drop yourself face first onto Remus’ bed in your usual melodramatic fashion, immediately regretting it because fuck that smells horrid. When was the last time it washed its sheets?

Probably never, actually. You sit up.

Your sibling is sitting cross-legged on its desk, working on something that’s got a good deal of goop and limbs. It looks up at you blankly.

“Ro? What the hell are you doing in here?” It doesn’t sound angry, just very, very surprised.

“My life is ending.”

“Fun! Does that mean I get full creative control?”

“No! And it’s not fun, you animal!”

It scrutinizes you, setting its strange arthropodic creation down on the desk. You lean back when it leans forwards.

“Wow, shit must be really bad if you’ve decided to come here!”

You nod, miserably.

“Okay,” it claps its hands together, standing up only to fall against the bed beside you. It’s half-sitting, half-laying; the way it twists all its limbs up can not be comfortable. “What’s going on?”

You glare at it, but you aren’t sure why. Probably just because it is there and you need something to glare at while you talk.

“It’s Logan…” You trail off, waiting for Remus to catch on. It takes its time thinking, even more expressionless than before.

“You know why he hasn’t left his room in days? I tried to check on him but he barely told me anything. Just said he was tired, and ‘thanks for the concern’,” it says at last, catching you off-guard.

“You mean you haven’t heard? I would’ve thought Patton or Janus might have told you.”

It taps its claw to its chin a couple of times, thoughtful. The implication clicks just a second later, apparently, because it lets out a whining groan and drags its hands down its face.

“Oh, not that. I can’t do anything if it’s that!” It exclaims, “Yeah, they did mention it, but I guess I just tune that kind of thing out,” it pauses, “...It’s because you and Vee are fucking now, right?”

You flush, embarrassment and indignation welling up at the back of your throat. You bat Remus’ shoulder, bristly as a thornbush.

“No, we aren’t- I mean, not yet- I mean, that’s none of your business!”

“You did kinda come to me for help, though, so it actually is.”

You glower, refusing to justify that with a response. It rolls its eyes at you, turning over so that it’s flat on its back with its upper half hanging off the bed.

“It’s your bad to come to me for romance advice. You couldn’t have asked literally anyone else- yourself, for example?” It fusses with its talons as it rants, snapping off a couple of nails absentmindedly, “It’s not even the fun kind of gross.”

You can’t believe you’re considering saying it. You won’t! You shouldn’t! You refuse!

“...Please?” Oh fuck, you’ve done it now.

Remus pulls its head up slightly, a very smug grin across its face. Its teeth are horrendously crooked and yellow-stained, looking much too big and sharp to fit into its mouth.

“Awww, you’re begging? God, you’re so desperate.”

It’s very difficult to resist the urge to push it off the bed. But you are a pillar of restraint today, because it’s not entirely wrong about that, and you still need it to help you.

“Look, it’s too personal to my own life for my abilities to do me any good. And Virgil can’t talk about it- he’s way too frazzled to even think about it, the poor thing. Plus, Patton and Janus aren’t… great… at things,” that’s a very soft way of putting: the former gets much too emotionally invested and the latter is entirely snarky and unhelpful. “So I came here. I think a more, erm, detached point of view could help.”

Remus hums at that.

“I guess there’s nothing more detached from romantic issues than someone who’s never had any- you’ve come to the right place in that case.”

“So you’ll help?”

Remus slides slowly forward until it’s landing in a heap on the ground, various crunching noises resulting from the impact. It huffs, lifts itself up to rest its chin on the edge of the bed, and stares at you unblinkingly.

“You’re not allowed to tangent about how pretty his eyes are or how much you love his voice, or anything like that, got it? Otherwise, I will puke, and probably into your mouth just to shut you up.”

You gag, perhaps a bit exaggeratedly.

“That’s vile!”

“Thank you! Now, bitch to me about your problems before I get bored.”

You look down to your lap, winding and unwinding your fingers repetitiously. You think about the past couple of days; in many aspects, it’s been wonderful. Virgil actually wants to be your boyfriend! And that’s what he is now! Of course, you both are just as cuddly as ever, but now you don’t have to worry about holding back. That’s been an amazing relief.

But there’s always that little thing missing, holding you back from being content completely. You want to give Logan his space, truly you do, but every day you feel a little more distant from him. A little further from being able to fix things. It’s familiar in all the worst ways.

You blink rapidly, remembering where you are before the emotions overcome you. With a shaky breath, you begin to speak. It’s just a summary at first, but then you can’t help but give Remus your most detailed accounts of, well, everything.

You gauge its reaction intensely, but it’s as inscrutable as ever. You finish the tale hurriedly, expectant for some sort of response from the creature across from you.

There is an intolerable silence as you practically see the gears turning in Remus’ brain, which is funny because you thought Octopuses were supposed to have nine of them. You have no idea what it’s using all the other ones for, if that’s the case.

“You laughed at him,” it smirks when it speaks, sounding out the words slowly. You scoff.

“We were laughing at the situation! We didn’t mean it to seem that way. It was just bad timing! ”

It cackles at you, sitting back on its legs and tossing its head back. It sounds like a shrieking kettle.

“No wonder he’s so pissed! He thinks you think his feelings are a joke! His whole deal is not wanting to be that. That’s, like, his big thing.”

You’d… sort of figured that’s what happened, but hearing it out loud still stings. To think you’d done that to him. He was getting so much better with his feelings, but you had to go and ruin it.

“I already know that I- we-” mental filtering, Roman, “We caused the issue. I wanted to know how to fix it.”

Remus stops laughing as suddenly as it’d started, looking at you with all the sincerity of, perhaps, someone capable of being serious.

“Corner him,” it answers simply.

“Excuse me?”

“Corner him. Your first mistake was that you went to him in his room, which meant he could just throw you out of there. He’s stubborn, right? Plus, he thinks you were making fun of him. He’s not gonna come out to have a civilized conversation on his own, cuz he’s a dumbass, so I don’t think more space is gonna help you out here. Lure him out! Tie him up, if it’ll make him listen!” Remus pauses thoughtfully, “Orrrrr you could try amputating his legs entirely, but he’ll probably grow them back. He’s annoying like that.”

You choose to ignore the last suggestion, focusing instead on its main point.

“Are you sure that won’t make things worse?”

“Define ‘worse’ for me, in terms of right now, currently, in here on this day.”

“Good point.”

Remus nods to itself, standing up from the floor and stretching its arms above its head. Its shoulders dislocate, but it pops them back into their sockets once its done. This almost feels like the conclusion of the conversation, but you get the impression that it’s taking its time to piece together a sentence with a little more finality.

“He was obviously crazy about you two before, which means he probably still is. He’s also a sad little shit, though.”

You move to stand as well, curling your fingers against themselves again.

“You really think so?”

“Oh, I have no idea. That’s your department, remember? Now, get out of my room; no alloromantics allowed after-” it checks the time, clearly making the rule up on the spot, “Five twenty-six P.M.”

“Fine, fine, I can take a hint,” you place your hands on your hips, feeling just a little more confident in the wake of this talk.

“‘Hint’? I explicitly told you to leave.”

You grumble at Remus, but make your way to the door nonetheless. It turns back to its desk, grabbing for a jar that seems to be filled with insect legs. It’s immediately refocused into whatever strange creatures it was working on, pulling them apart and shoving them back together. You let the affronted look fall from your face, replaced by a small, fond smile.

“Thanks, Re.”

It glances back at you, briefly.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s nothing…” it pauses, its hands stilling. “Good luck.”

“Thank you,” you say, earnestly.

You leave, letting it get back to its work.

The hallway smells like a fucking Macy’s compared to Remus’ room. Jesus Christ, it’s a relief.

You shut the door behind you with a soft click, leaning back against it with a deep, shuddering sigh. It’s been a long week.

Ah, and just on time, as if to prove your point, there’s a gravelly shout and a thump from downstairs. You draw yourself to attention, shaking the slump from your shoulders. You flit through the narrow hall to the top of the stairs, listening carefully for an issue to resolve or an unseemly beast to slay. A prince must protect his subjects, after all.

For a few seconds, all you can hear below is frantic whispering. You set a foot on the top step, but you don’t get the chance to descend.

Virgil is there like a flash of lightning, speeding up the stairs and heading right for you.

You startle, spiraling back to escape his path, but it’s futile. He catches you at the top, sending you both crashing into the opposite wall. Pain shoots up your back at the impact, as well as sparking in your shoulders where his claws are gripping you. You hiss, the sound dying when you meet his eyes.

They’re bright. No, glowing. No, seeping- their color is seeping into the world around them, curling in little streaks of murky green and violet around Virgil’s face.

He speaks, but it’s without distortion. It’s clear and crisp. It isn’t quite anxiety that’s consuming him this way, no, it’s something much more powerful.

“Roman,” he takes your hand in a fervent grip, “Ro, it’s Logan.”

You blink, and before you really know what you’re doing, you're already halfway downstairs.

<<<???>>><<<???>>><<<???>>

Light, sparse taps are turned out against the solid wood door. The sounds, however small, echo throughout this packed little room.

Your fingers stall above the laptop’s keyboard, and for a fraction of a second frustration overcomes you. It’s gone as soon as it comes, replaced unceremoniously by numbness. This is a minor inconvenience to your work, but not much else. Thankfully, you are not one to dwell on it; after all this time, you are finally in complete control of your faculties and your emotions.

The knock returns, more sure of itself as it hits against the surface. Bemusedly, you wonder why on earth they’re still bothering- but, that isn’t them, it belatedly occurs to you. The rhythm isn’t that of some showtune or another, nor is it harsh and pounding.

You aren’t sure how many days it’s been since you’ve heard that particular sound. You aren’t sure… What day is it?

Well, regardless, you’ve been jarred from your work. You could ignore it and continue on- you’d likely forget it soon enough- but the fact that you recognize the presence specifically as Patton stops that idea in its tracks. He’s sensitive, an overthinker to an extreme degree. He could entirely misconstrue it as a dislike of his company if you were to not respond, unlike a flippant Remus or a collected Janus. And, well…

You’re over it. You’ve been over what Roman and Virgil did to you. But even though you very much are, it’s still perfectly reasonable to not want to be near them. There would be nothing to gain from talking to them, and you’d like to spare yourself the headache. But, you digress; Patton was not a part of what transpired. He would not do that to you, and therefore he is not an impediment to your work. Looking at it rationally, he is in fact a great source of comfo- help, for you.

With this in mind you stand, making your way across the room. You stagger when you walk, like something’s pulling you in different directions. Odd. The feeling is somewhere in your head, sinking down your vertebrae, insisting that you need to remain in the sanctity of your room. If you leave, the pull suggests, then all your carefully built clarity of mind should become disrupted. How strange for such a convincing conviction to be so seemingly baseless, you reflect.

The knock returns, and that is of course a much more pressing issue. There’s a pull coming from there as well, only one much fiercer and easier to place. It’s the strongest thing you’ve experienced in some time, like someone’s arm around your waist, guiding you forwards (even if there isn’t anyone there, really).

“Good afternoon,” you intone, drawing the door open with excessive force. Strange, again; maybe you had just forgotten how heavy it was.

Patton stands across from you, shock written across his features with his fist still poised in the air, as though to knock again. He drops the hand quickly, reaching out instead with both arms while a grin consumes his face. But the limbs spasm concerningly, and stop. He sweeps his arms back and presses his balled hands tightly against his chest, still smiling at you, only a little more strained. His eyes are big, murky pools of color and emotion, raging and contradictory and impossible to make sense of. Even looking into them is overwhelming.

“Hi, buddy,” he says it so quietly, but the actual words don’t matter. He says it with force, like perhaps he’s localized every emotion he’s ever felt entirely into his tone of voice.

You blink at him, an undefined question on your lips before that pull behind you turns into a sharp push, and before you know it you’re slumping forward into the hallway and out of your room. As you’re forced out, you narrowly avoid hitting the carpet. That’s thanks to Patton, who rushes forwards with a yelp, hauling you up into his sturdy arms with very little effort.

The confusion you’d felt leaves you in a great big rush, replaced by fire. Your skin is consumed by burns at your friend’s touch- or at least it feels that way, but logically it cannot possibly be actual flame- but fuck logic because you’re on fucking fire.

It’s an all-consuming heat, but that’s hardly all it is. It’s breathing. Like you’d been holding your breath to the point of mad deliria and only now are you gasping in great, relieved breaths of clear air as some great and stifling weight is lifted from your lungs. It also feels like moving from an ice bath to a sauna all too quickly, giving you the greatest relief in conjunction with horrific pain.

Oh. You’re crying.

“Shh,” Patton whispers, as though this isn’t anything out of the ordinary, “It’s okay, it’s alright.”

You hold onto him hesitantly. Are you sitting? You think you must be, judging from this position.

“Do you need me to let go? Is it too much?”

You open your mouth to speak, and your voice is in perfect, frightening monotone.

“Yes, please.”

Patton draws back gently, just far enough so that you’re not touching. Big, crocodile tears crawl down your face still, but they begin to die down after a moment. You get your breathing under control, even if just barely.

“I didn’t want you to fall and get hurt,” Patton explains, “But I realize that making you touch a living vessel for emotion might’ve hurt, too, after- well, after that,” he gestures vaguely to your room, and then to yourself. You tilt your head in confusion.

“What-?” You look down at your arms, and the question dies on your lips.

It’s lifeless; corpse-like. The cold, slate-gray painted up your arms and probably across your whole body. The color looks sucked out of you, leaving only emptiness in its wake. The only sign that you’re a living being and not a husk, a shell, a piece of shed skin- other than the tremble of your frame- is the shocks of electric blue running up your body. They could be veins, if not for the fact that the lines were perfectly straight and geometrically cornered.

Patton reaches out, pensively, and presses a cautious finger against the back of your hand. At his touch, the spot bursts into life like watercolor on wet paper. Lively, peachy skin with cool undertones appears, before fading back to gray as Patton removes his finger. And it stings.

You jump to your feet with a struggle, hardly registering when Patton follows your lead. You spin on your heel, staring through the open door and into your room. You can’t imagine entering it- just the feeling of being near it shortens your breath. It’s frigid, it’s hard and unshakeable and dark. It is completely and entirely devoid of emotion or life, and you hadn’t left that frozen hellscape in days.

It’s a wonder you can feel anything at all, after what you’ve done to yourself.

A shaking gasp rips out of your throat, and before you can think another panicked thought you jolt forward and wrench the door shut. You back away from it until your back hits the opposite wall.

“I- I didn’t realize I was doing it,” your words sound like pleas, falling from your mouth without your consent.

“I know,” Patton stands beside you, close enough to feel but not to burn.

“I didn’t mean to, I just-”

“I know.”

“I was doing better. I was doing so well, I was happy.”

He nods solemnly.

You’ve been aware of the existence of your emotions, and relatively accepting of it, for a good deal of time. Hypocrisy is unsustainable. You can’t very well preach the negatives of repression on a weekly basis and then go on to practice it indefinitely.

But what you are… everything that you encompass, everything that encompasses you, it makes it much too easy to slip up. To force out every pesky feeling in favor of more ‘important’ things. What it really is is a pitiful defense mechanism, unfortunately built deep into you by the purpose of your being. And it seems that your room can even do it without your knowledge.

“Logan?”

You look up, unsure if he can even see how miserable you are. Can you emote anymore? You try to frown, but your muscles are stuck like plastic.

“Why don’t we get you somewhere else and see if we can get some of the feeling back into ya, okay?”

You adjust your glasses once, then twice.

“Not your room, I would hope?”

“Oh, goodness,” he lets out a startled laugh, “Of course not, that would be way too much! I was thinking somewhere a little more, uhm, neutral?”

You perk up at that implication. You could just go to the common room, of course, but that’s hardly the only unaffected area in the Mindpalace. Your world isn’t quite real- and even if it is it’s extremely fluid and easy to influence- meaning you can make about just as many locations as any of you would like. Which includes structures ‘outside’ of your ‘house’.

An ill-defined existence like that might irk you, if you were in a philosophical mood. Thankfully, the only mood you’re in right now is sad.

“Yes, I think a change of setting could be beneficial.”

Patton chirps happily, much like a tree frog, and makes to lead you downstairs. You follow close behind him, chasing that emotional high but still nervous of the pain that it could cause you.

You’re on edge for reasons enough already. The idea that you could run into them is a prominent one that you’d rather not focus on.

For a split second you think you might have to, though, because there’s someone sitting on the couch when you step down from the landing. Your breath catches in your throat, but then he looks up at you, heterochromic eyes wide with surprise, and you exhale steadily.

“Hello, Janus.”

His eyebrows arch up at your greeting, perplexion in his smile. Appraisingly, he observes you, offering only a small wave. He addresses Patton when he speaks.

“Well, Dear, it seems you were right to be concerned about him.”

Patton mutters something that you can’t quite make out, looking disconcerted.

You’d be flushing indignantly, if you had the ability to. Your shoulders hunch up as you glance between your friends.

“You’ve been talking about me?”

They both look acutely uncomfortable, exchanging looks. That’s answer enough for you, though.

Oh, just look at yourself. You’re a spectacle now, aren’t you? Poor Logan, getting his metaphorical metaphysical heart broken, only for it to become the talk of the MindPalace for days on end as he relapses into repression. Isn’t it such a lovely thing for you to be? A piece of gossip. Entertainment.

Janus’ worry grows on his face, and soon he’s up from his spot and hastening towards you. You step back from him, trying to remember what glaring is meant to look like. He doesn’t invade your space again, but he just… stares at you.

“Would you like to talk about it?” He asks. You can almost laugh at the question.

“I’m sure you already know all about it, though, don’t you?”

Both of them are taken aback by your snapping. You regret it immediately; they haven’t done anything wrong, not really. They’re trying to help you, it isn’t their fault that they got caught up in your ‘tragic tale’. But your frustration is difficult to push down. You get the feeling that you can’t push anything down, without worrying that something will snap; it’s almost like an overworked muscle.

“Whatever you think has been happening out here,” Janus speaks, even and slow, “It’s not that bad, alright?”

Patton nods along with him, and reaches towards you. He falters, eventually opting to hook a finger through the band of your watch instead. Your skin prickles, but there’s no pain.

“C’mon, I was thinking we could try heading to the Clubhouse.”

That settles your anger, microscopically. You think Janus is being truthful, and Patton is nothing but consoling. And, of course, there’s the clubhouse…

You might not ever admit how much you like it. It’s been around since before you were around, back in the days of just Anxiety (the oldest), Creativities (tied for second), and a very newly formed Morality. Back when it was first made, it really was just a little child’s clubhouse, made primarily by Roman, with some disruptions by Remus, and small additions by a tiny Patton. It was probably the first neutral structure made up by the sides, as they had just begun to figure out their powers and the ‘world’ that they inhabited. Of course no one had the heart to get rid of it after that.

You give Patton a nod, angling your face so that it maybe looks like you’re smiling. He lets go of you, smiling back as he turns on his heel and heads for the door. You trail behind him, knowing that it must look very silly that you’re basically tailgating him. Janus follows you in turn, a few feet behind. He watches over the both of you protectively.

You step out onto the lawn, hearing grass crunch beneath your shoes. The wind is particularly biting, and the sky above threatens a storm. You’re sure that the weather in the real world isn’t this chaotic, so someone in the mindscape must be sulking. You don’t mind; it’ll only make the warmth of the Clubhouse all the more pleasant.

The Clubhouse has changed so much over the years that it’s unrecognizable as its original iteration. What once was a little stick-and-stone glorified fairy house is now a cottage-like building, one story high with a thickly thatched roof. Beside the door on either side are big bay windows, each made into little reading nooks. It’s essentially one big room, the outside painted with such vibrant pastels that it easily stands out against its surroundings.

The doors creak when Patton opens them, but not in a way that denotes damage or wear. It’s an old and comforting sound, one that comes from familiarity and consistent use. You step through the threshold, and affection floods your chest.

It isn’t large, but it’s well-equipped. There are ancient oaken tables stacked up with crafts materials, squashy bean bag chairs, and a bright rug or two thrown over the rustic hardwood floors. The nooks have pillows and blankets piled in them, looking like nests. There are bookshelves, art supplies, vinyl records (complete with a record player)- even some new-looking wall displays of preserved bugs and butterflies for decoration. To top it all off, fairy lights were strung across all the walls, making it all seem quite mystic.

You find yourself taking another step inwards; the amenities are incredibly inviting. Everything here is inviting, and homey, and lived-in. The house itself almost feels alive, nonsensical as that is.

It’s no wonder this is everyone’s favorite.

Patton watches you patiently, his hand resting on the door handle. You take a deep breath, but you aren’t sure why you need it. You make your way to the perfume-y, floral print sofa against the wall to your right, treating everything around you rather reverently. When you sit, you sink down into the couch.

Patton sits a respectful distance from you. Janus strolls right after him, knocking the door shut with the back of his boot before settling in an armchair on the left of the couch.

There’s a comfortable silence, and you start to feel your numbness abate. With a contented sigh, your head falls back against the cushion and your eyes fall shut. Not in an effort to sleep. You’re just… resting. You breathe deeply, letting the atmosphere envelop you.

The corners of your mouth twitch up.

“Logan!” Patton squeaks, “Look!”

Your eyes blink open, mildly startled at the outburst. Patton’s gaze on you is intense, first focused on your face and then moving down your arms. You follow the look, to see your...

Your perfectly normal, flesh-colored arms. Your human-ish, mildly tan, average arms. You feel what you can now recognize as a smile grow wider on your face.

“Well,” Janus chimes, “It seems you just needed a little break.”

“Maybe so,” your voice creaks from lack of use. You hadn’t even realized you’d been nonverbal since you’d last snapped at them. Neither had drawn attention to it, which you silently thank them for (they, after all, were all too familiar with the experience).

“Do you feel good enough to talk about what’s been upsetting you?” Patton gently asks you. And you… don’t have an answer.

“What is there to talk about?” You tilt your head bemusedly.

“I think he means, are you ready to talk to who’s been upsetting you?” Janus explains. Patton hesitates before nodding his agreement.

“I- what?” Your serenity leaves in a rush, replaced by astonishment and outrage, “You expect me to- to talk to them?”

You give them approximately three seconds to respond before plowing forwards with your rant.

“I’m talking to you both, isn’t that enough? You’ve done nothing to wrong me, of course. What does it matter if I don’t speak to those- those- those-”

Janus’ eyes expand to circles, the pupils shrinking to anxious slits.

“Those?” He prompts.

“Tricksters, betrayers, playactors, wolves- whatever you want to call them!” Where were vocab cards when you needed them? All your synonyms can’t carry the punch that you need them to. Insults aren’t much good if you have to explain them after.

“No!” Patton practically screams, out of absolutely nowhere. You glance at him, stunned, to see him looking like a kicked puppy- er, froggy. He’s on the verge of tears, leaning towards you precariously, with devastation swirling in his big eyes. “This is why you need to talk to them, please, Logan.”

You are so very bewildered, you barely notice that Janus is standing from his chair until he’s already across the room.

“As I said earlier: whatever you think happened, didn't. I can prove it, too,” he mutters, standing by the door.

“You weren't there, Janus,” you snap, "I tried to tell them how I felt and they- they laughed at me.”

“They didn't!” Patton squeaks. You shake your head frantically, still reeling.

“It was- it was awful, you can’t-”

“No,” Patton interrupts, “I meant that literally. They didn’t do that.”

This interaction is making your head spin with indignation. You are capable of immense patience when it comes to Patton- and Janus, for that matter- but this has become ridiculous.

“I’m so tired of being made a mockery of, Patton. I won’t stand for it any longer, even if you’re just trying to help.”

He breathes in sharply, about to argue, but then his gaze catches on something behind you. His mouth stays open, but he’s soundless. You jump to your feet, spinning around to see just what he’s looking at.

The door is open. Janus is gone.

There's a shout from the main house.

Taglist: @shrimp-crockpot @glitter-skeleton-uwu @intruxiety @thefivecalls

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