#twin sense shit is my FUCKING JAM
Text
HOW ABOUT THAT @somerandomdudelmao DISASTER TWIN REUNION, HUH
Went a little feral to the tune of 2.2K words of self-indulgence. What else is new?
~~~~~~~
Donnie can't sleep. More accurately, he won't sleep. Not until he's done. He'd never been one to leave a project unfinished; death and resurrection hadn't changed that.
He taps incessantly, repetitively, on a keyboard and screen, the motions long since past inputting data and now only serving to keep him awake. The repetition is soothing, easy, and - counterintuitively - he finds his head drooping forward into sleep-
And he snaps back upright. No. Not until he can confirm Leo is okay.
Leo is behind him, he knows. Breathing. In bed. Asleep. Very much alive. And-
He jumps and whips around as a thud sounds behind him. "What the-"
Leo is on the floor.
Well, that answers the question as to whether his twin is awake.
For a fraction of a second, part of him wavers uncertainly. He loves his idiot twin. The question he hasn't been able to answer is whether his reaction to Leo waking up will fall on love or idiot twin-
"Leo!"
He can hear the exasperation in his voice, and yep, it's the latter. He takes a knee next to Leo and hauls him into his arms, lecturing him all the while, and if he can hear the annoyance in his voice then Leo sure as hell can. Sleep deprivation for the purposes of keeping his brother's soul alight had done nothing for his temper. "I swear to God, all you had to do was make a sound! Why are you such a difficult patient?"
He deposits Leo carefully on the bed - "Sit still!" - and checks him over, running every scan he can think of and making sure his brother's new body really is in good working order, spouting increasingly irritated commentary all the while. Of course the fall didn't hurt him - Leo is tougher than that, and Donnie does better work than that - but he still can't help the rising anxiety in his throat.
This almost didn't happen.
"-stupid, stupid selfless idiot!"
Donnie almost couldn't save him.
"Grrhh-"
Leo nearly died for real. Permanently beyond Donnie's reach. Well and truly gone-
"Do you have any idea how close you were to having nothing left to save?"
And now here Leo is, in perfect health, sitting on Donnie's bed with a big dopey grin on his face as Donnie chokes on his anxiety and damn near shakes himself apart-
Oh for fuck's sake.
"Hey. Are you even listening?"
Leo speaks up for the first time since he's woken up, voice shaky from disuse. "D-Donnie?"
And that is not a goddamn answer to anything Donnie has been saying, because of course it isn't. It's Leo. He's always had his own priorities. "Yeah. No. You're not fucking listening." Donnie heaves a long-suffering sigh, sinking back into the routine comfort that irritation at his twin provides. "At least you're talking." Small favors. "Although I'm surprised you're not throwing your stupid jokes at me." Even smaller favors.
He stops short as Leo's hand closes around his wrist, drawing Donnie's arm to Leo's plastron. "You're real," his brother breathes, looking from Donnie's hand to Donnie himself with tears streaming down his face. "You're real!"
And then, in the space of a thought, Leo's joy breaks, his smile turning desperate. "Are you?"
For a moment, Donnie stares at his twin, wondering at the sudden change in expression. He takes a breath-
And the part of him that had lain dormant for so long after he'd woken up - the part of him that had been screaming for his twin's safety ever since they'd recovered the few scattered embers of Leo's soul - gasps to life, blooming like a time-lapse video of a flower and reaching to the edges of Donnie's soul. Leo had called it their twin sense, and Donnie hadn't had it in him to argue after a while. Whatever it is, it's back, connected to Leo's renewed presence, and-
Donnie's heart floods with emotions. Relief and joy sprout quickly and are nearly swept away in a tide of exhaustionanxietyfearfearfearfearFEAR-
But down beneath it all, steady against the rising wall of terror, is the little blue spark of hope that his brother always carried. His core. The thing that let him continue on in the face of insurmountable odds, and lent that same strength to everyone around him. A ninja's greatest weapon.
It's Leo. It's Leo-
And Donnie can't leave him alone in his fear. Not when there's no need for it. Not when they're safe.
He lets that breath out, and sits next to Leo on the bed. "Mhm. I'm alive. And you're alive. We're safe. The Krang are gone." That's all the news that's fit to print, or at least the most important parts. What else does he have to say?
Oh.
"I'm sorry I..uh…"
He's sorry he what? Died? Left a mess for Leo to deal with? Didn't do enough while he was alive to keep everyone else alive in turn after he was gone? Kept his brother's soul in a fucking mug, because that was the only way he could ensure he wouldn't break it while Leo was still fragile? All of the above?
…yeah, it's all of the above.
He owes Leo one hell of an apology, and he's never been good at any of this, so instead he shrugs haplessly and leans forward, pulling Leo into his arms and hanging on tight.
It's a matter of moments before Leo has him flat on his shell on the bed and is sobbing into his arms. Normally he'd hate seeing his twin cry, but it's proof of life - proof that Leo made it, that his soul is intact enough for him to still be Leo, that he's alive and awake and here - and Donnie will take it.
And if he's squeezing Leo back pretty hard himself, well, that's fine too. Nobody else needs to know.
~~~~~~~
Donnie is yelling at him.
Donnie is strong enough to have picked Leo up off the ground, well enough to be on his feet without support, running tests and reading Leo the riot act over his latest boneheaded maneuver - in this case, forgetting he was missing an arm and falling out of bed.
Donnie is yelling at him, because Donnie is here to yell at him.
And Leo is smiling, because he couldn't be happier. He lets the words wash over him, draping over his shoulders like a favorite cozy blanket that he'd lost so many years ago, and he basks in the warmth that is his brother's voice and smiles.
It's enough to interrupt the yelling for a question, though he doesn't really hear it - just keeps smiling, and says Donnie's name, and it's so nice to be able to say it with a smile now, because Donnie is here-
-he is, right? This isn't just a dying hallucination on Leo's part, right?
(It couldn't be- he remembers his death, remembers breathing his last, remembers being trapped- but this-)
He reaches out, taking Donnie's wrist in hand, and pulls his brother closer to him. "You're…real…" It certainly feels real - skin and scales, softer than his own, and his fingers barely fit all the way around the wrist instead of encircling them with room to spare - and he stares down at it, tears rolling down his face as he finally looks back up at his twin. "You're real!"
The Krang show you what you want to see.
The thought strikes him unbidden, turning his joy and relief to ice. It's a well-known fact: a Krang infection can show its host what they want to see, visions of comfort and family and home, and extract intel from the host's reactions. He knows that- he knows that, and-
And he'd died surrounded by Krang- and even if he couldn't see or hear or feel, he knows he'd been held captive-
But it's Donnie- he wants this to be real- he needs this to be real- he wants his twin back so badly he can't think, and the idea that this could be a Krang hallucination is almost too much to bear-
"Are you?" He can hear how choked the words are as they leave his lips, but he needs to know-
And Donnie stops, and sits down next to him, and tells him everything he wants to hear - everything he could've ever wished for. They're alive. They're safe. The Krang are gone. It all sounds too good to be true.
And then Donnie offers him an apology and a sad half-smile, pulling him into a strong hug-
And the ice in Leo's mind shatters in a flood of warmth as his twin sense opens for the first time since Donnie's death. He feels his twin's irritation, and deep-seated exhaustion, and a choking wave of guiltguiltguiltguiltguilt-
And beneath it all, steady and strong as ever, the thrum of unending determination, powered by an unfathomably deep well of love. It's the backbeat to the melody of Leo's life, the point-counterpoint to his own heartbeat- it's something he'd never had to live without until he did, but it's back, rushing in to fill the silence he'd known with the strength to go on and the knowledge that he is loved loved loved, strong and overwhelming and all-encompassing in the way only Donnie can love-
It's something the Krang could never imitate.
This is real. This is all real-
He throws himself against his twin, toppling them both over on the bed as he clings to Donnie, unable to stand even a fraction of an inch of space between them, as though he could push their hearts together through their plastrons, and he cries, sobbing out worry and terror and grief and the slow, crushing exhaustion of a losing battle finally lost. He cries as though the world was ending - and it had, once when the Krang had invaded and again every time he'd lost a member of his family, over and over until he'd sent his last hope through a portal that had cost his littlest brother his life and succumbed to death himself.
And now he's alive. Here, wherever here is, with Donnie. Clinging to his twin, and being held in turn as Donnie gently sits them both up, never letting go as Leo cries himself out.
It takes a while - long enough for Leo's gaze to settle into a stare and his thoughts to settle into a comfortable static. He's alive, Donnie is alive, and he has no fucking idea what else is going on, but he's just going to be okay with that for now.
His thoughts rouse enough to inform him of something wrong - the line of tension Donnie is carrying down his neck and over his shoulders. That won't do. Leo could try to massage it out with one hand, maybe try to get Donnie to talk about it, but Donnie never likes to talk about it, and Leo isn't one for slowly soothing away tension when he can just take an axe to the release valve instead. Plus, it gives him something definite to focus on, instead of…this whole situation. Whatever 'this whole situation' actually is.
Donnie had mentioned his stupid jokes, right?
"H-hey Dee?" His voice wavers from disuse, thick with tears, but he pushes through. "Why did- why did the tree buy a camera?"
"What?" Oh, Donnie is not going to see this coming. Excellent.
"To do a photosynthesis." It's nowhere near the level of pizazz he normally uses for a punchline delivery - he's still too tired and frazzled and clinging to Donnie entirely too hard for that - but that beautiful pause of a terrible joke sinking in tells him it had hit home nonetheless. Donnie moves - he can hear the telltale slap of face meeting palm - and then breaks down into helpless laughter, smacking the back of Leo's shell as the tension Leo had felt in his twin's shoulders abruptly relaxes. Good. It worked.
"This is so fucking stupid," is all Donnie manages as his laughter fades, and he slumps fully against Leo with a murmur. That's...abrupt. Sure, Leo had felt Donnie's exhaustion, but he hadn't realized it'd been that bad. He takes hold of Donnie, gently laying him down on the bed to rest-
Remember what happened last time Donnie fell asleep next to you.
He gasps sharply at the thought - not again NEVER again - and keeps his hand steady as he moves, laying both fingers gently against Donnie's neck and feeling for his pulse. It's easy to find, strong and steady and even, like it had been before the infection had taken Donnie's vitality and then his life.
But he's alive, and healthy, and sleeping. He's okay. And Leo-
Leo moves his hand to the side of his own neck. His pulse is also easy to find, quickened with the adrenaline of an unknown situation and multiple consecutive shocks to his system.
Okay. Take stock. Assess. Figure out a plan from there.
He's alive. Donnie's alive. The Krang are gone. And everything else…is a big fat question mark, with no easy answers and no indication as to where to begin looking for them.
Well.
Uh.
"What the fuck," Leo whispers to the room at large, as though the walls could answer.
~~~~~~~
(A world away and still very close, a younger pair of twins cling to one another the way a drowning man clings to driftwood: desperately, clutching tight, as though letting go will spell their doom. Neither of them know where the emotions came from, or why; all they know is that each of them are damn glad the other is alive, and they'll do everything they can to make sure that continues to be the case.)
(What the fuck, indeed.)
#rottmnt#cass apocalyptic series#future leo#future donnie#fic#writing#cw sibling death#mention of it at least#referencing the scrapped movie storyboards because it's too good a beat to pass up#we have fun here#no gods no betas we die like NOBODY BECAUSE DONNIE FUCKING FIXED IT#I GUESS#twin sense shit is my FUCKING JAM#inexplicable mystic bonds between two halves of a whole? sign me the FUCK up#I couldn't decide whose POV to write this from so I just did both#which is WHY it's 2K+ words#it's not perfect but it's Good Enough and therefore it's getting posted#fuck it we ball
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
*crawls in through the 3rd story window*
To you and also the anon that gave us the idea of soulmates being linked through lifetimes, I would like you offer my undying devotion. That stuff is my jam!
And the thought that the boys remember, too - you can do so much with that! Are they the only ones who remember? Because if so, then Reader could be finally, blissfully unaware of how much their previous incarceration suffered. Hell, maybe it was even like, something the twins bargained with Arceus for, that their soulmate has a happier existence next go 'round; Arceus could have been like, "done and done, but also you two are gonna remember so you can help make your own request a reality."
Or does Reader remember, too? The extent of everyone's memories might be up for debate, but if Reader even remotely remembers their past life, they might be like a wary stray cat around them that the boys have to slowly befriend. (Childhood friends to eventual lovers, maybe?) Not nearly as bad as the last time, obviously, but more like a "hmmmm, not super comfortable around you just yet but I can't tell why" slow burn friendship kind of deal with the boys being utterly determined to win you over.
(As an aside, I thrive on platonic/familial/friendship soulmates, too, so I just imagine the twins are also continuously reincarnated together and have each other's and maybe Elesa's names on one another's non-romantic-soulmark wrists. Or. Wherever you want the marks to be.)
I read a fic once for a different fandom - and I wish I could find it again, alas! - where the cycle of reincarnation for soulmates kind of acted like Groundhog Day and kept going until everybody got their happy ending. Like, one life they missed each other and never met, the next they got separated and died, in the next one they wound up as rivals and hated one another, etc. It finally ended with them coming all the way back around to the very first life again (in modern times, because time shenanigans) and finally getting it right. I can 100% see Arceus pulling this shit with the twins and Reader.
"Y'all fucked up? Reincarnation jail for train men! Reincarnation jail for you three idiots for 100 lives!"
So picture the twins and Reader, going through a dumb number of lives, trying to get it right, and fiiiiiiiiinally getting back around to the first one, the one where Reader was a Plasma victim grunt, and everyone has a very weird sense of deja vu as they all meet for the "first time." Reader is tense and nervous, clearly expected something bad to happen, and the twins are anxious and feel like the moment has far more weight than it already should - like if they make one wrong move, they'll ruin everything.
Everyone just sort of stares at each other in tense silence for a long few minutes, until the twins slowly, carefully, reach out and take their soulmate's hands, smiling gently.
"It's nice to finally meet you."
Cut to tearful, happy first meetings leading to long roads with happy endings.
(Meanwhile, Arceus is just banging its head on a wall somewhere in exasperation. "ABOUT DAMN TIME!")
~Spark💥
{I have more soulmate au ideas, including other forms the soul bonds could take - like dream sharing, or what-you-write-on-your-skin-shows-up-on-theirs - for various different scenarios, possibly even for each of their reincarnations. But I'll save those for a different ask if anyone is interested.}
I’m interested in all of your ideas please tell me them please!!
God, the idea of the twins remembering well what happened before, and being in an almost repeat of that previous life. You’re there, as you were but maybe with a different team this time, clearly uncomfortable and nervous as you show them your soulmate marks. There’s dread on your face, but also confusion as to why, and it breaks the twins’ hearts.
They’re so gentle. They touch you like you’re something precious, and give affection as you accept it, mindful of every bruise and scar you carry, physical or not. They’re determined to do better by you, and to give you the world. Comfort and happiness, that’s they’re priorities, and they don’t care what anyone else has to say about it.
And it gives former team members hope, seeing you rise above your past and find happiness with your soulmates.
~Renee
15 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello dear may I have a slasher match-up please? Tysm in advance and if I already sent one then feel free to get rid of this one!
Zodiac sign: Leo sun, Aries moon, Leo rising
Personality Type: ENTP
Pronouns: She/her
Sexuality: Straight (For now might be bi but i'm going with straight)
I'm 5'4 and I have a very tiny body frame so i'm extremely petite and pretty small. I'm not very curvy and I literally have the body of a cereal box...lol but its fine because I have nice hips and thighs. I have thick brown hair that goes down to my back and it gets tangled pretty easily but its kinda fluffy. I have brown eyes and tiny freckles all over my face and body. I also have a very strong grunge style, like Flannels, band t-shirts, combat boots, leather jackets etc. But i'd also always enjoy a nice oversized sweatshirt or hoodie with a pair of skinny, ripped jeans and some converses or something along those lines.
For my personality.....this is where things get interesting. At first people find me very intimidating due to my resting bitch face and cold exterior but I promise i'm not like that ALL the time. When you get to know me, i'm goofy and about everything that comes out of my mouth is sarcasm or some dry humored joke. I'm also that one friend in a group where they literally will do the stupidest shit ever like for an example one time it was super dark outside and my other friend was there, while I was trying to climb a tree and I failed and fell out of the tree, and landed on my back. I got straight up after that somehow it didn't hurt.....like at all? But yeah i'm super reckless and sometimes people have to save me from myself if you get what I mean. I also have a very strong "I don't give a fuck" attitude and I will not hesitate to stick up for myself or my friends....like i'm the type of person where if someone glares at me, i'll glare right back.
I have bad anxiety and I can be very self destructive. This is where my feisty, stubborn, hardheaded side comes in. If I want something then i'll fight for it even if it hurts me and i'll get into a bad cycle of putting myself down and trying to do better even if I did great the first time but I always push myself too far and other people have to stop me because I usually can't see it when its happening. I also cover my emotions up and I have a lot of trouble talking about whats bothering me or what problems i'm having emotionally so I put up a wall and I act tough, or happy and sometimes i'll be the exact opposite but I try to hide it.
Weird things about me: I've grown up in the south all my life so sometimes when I talk a few words they'll come out sounding WAYYY more country and southern then I wanted, I don't have an accent but sometimes my words just come out that way. I also love the smell of cigarette smoke....let me explain. When I was a kid my parents smoked a lot and I was used to smelling it and now it reminds me of home and is sort of comforting.
Things I like: I love swimming (I was on a swim team for about 9 years), I love horror movies, I like rain and the sounds of thunderstorms because its calming to me, I also love the smell of rain, I like cloudy days, cooking, listening to 80's and 90's rock but mainly 90's because 90's is the best, My favorite bands are Bush, Audioslave, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Linkoln Park, Pearl jam but i'm pretty open to anything.
Things I dislike: Spiders.......I will scream if I see a spider.
Leo sun twins! You have amazing music taste and also as an Alabamian I love my southerners. The south gets so much unnecessary hate sometimes.
-Fern
Bo Sinclair
The only downside between you and Bo is you both can be hotheaded. So arguments between the two of you could be pretty brutal and somewhat frequent.
But moving on to the positives you both have a dry or sarcastic sense of humor. This means you would both most likely find the same things funny. And what's a relationship without being able to constantly joke around with each other.
We also all know that Bo will chain-smoke cigarettes. This man smells like cigarette smoke, motor oil, and old spice. Which is honestly a top tier combo if you ask me. Could imagine Bo saying motor oil and cigarette smoke is what real men smell like.
The two of you would also have music tastes that go together pretty well. I always imagine Bo as being a fan of 90's rock.
Cooking is also an asset that would make Bo fall for you. He definitely loves the whole house wife ideal. But is also more than okay with you being stubborn and independent.
Bo would dare you to do stupid stuff if were being totally honest. He would also be the kind to get mad at you if you get hurt even though he dared you to do something. He's really just hiding the fact he feels guilty by blaming you.
Bo can also relate to the whole self destructive tendencies and does his best to help you with that. I also feel like Bo is very understanding of anxiety seeing the environment he grew up in as well as having to help his twin brother with it.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thoughts on C3E6
Below that cut, buddies:
Oh, thank you, Taliesin for this gift! Backstory game? Hell yeah, that’s my jam!
So we found out so much! Fearne is from the Feywild and doesn’t really have too many regrets she’s willing to talk about. She’s also bad at lying and bad at negotiation, which is endlessly funny.
Imogen was from a small town, and her father went into hermitage with her when her powers manifested. He may blame her a bit for his isolation, and it sounds like the town treated them poorly.
Orym is dodging questions about his backstory like a fucking beast, no straight answers, everything in half-truths. And he was really uncomfortable about the idea of Imogen reading his mind. There is some shit there, I guarantee. It’s fascinating seeing the ostensibly ‘open’ and ‘honest’ character being easily the most shady and evasive during the conversation. Even once some of the story came out (an attack on Zephyra, some folks died in something apparently targeted at Keyleth, the attack on the Lumas twins was similar), there seemed like there were further secrets. Ties to those who died, perhaps, or a few other issues in Orym’s backstory. I wouldn’t be surprised if, when they find the Anger, we get a very different side of Orym, possibly attacking someone who dramatically outclasses him without asking a single question first.
Ashton is actually pretty open about their past, grew up in Jrusar poor with a group called the Nobodies, who all left town save Ashton at some point. They’ve loved people, had friends, lusted after people, but don’t seem certain any childhood attachments were really love. There is a bit more openness about them now, but also a real sense that love is danger. He also very much does not trust Lord Eshteross, and seems to have a different opinion about him and about the wealthy folk in Jrusar than the other people in the group (particularly Orym, who seems to trust Eshteross already, and is clearly trying to steer the group in that direction, with Ashton being the obvious hold-out who has still not spoken to Eshteross directly, and who may even come to a serious argument with Orym about him at some point. I also really want to point out how much I love their approach to secrets, particularly as others in the group are clearly keeping some: they have private shit that they have to take care of on their own. Theys straight-up tell the group that there is stuff about their past they aren’t sharing. So it’s a secret, but it’s one that’s also known, and open, and honest, which shows an emotional maturity to Ashton that frankly is refreshing.
Fresh Cut Grass is definitely our amnesiac of the group. That glitching-out Sam did was fantastic as they tried to dig into their past (likely pre-Dancer), so my guess is that Dancer found them and reprogrammed them or turned them back on, and then recreated them in poorer versions in their ‘siblings’. I can’t wait to see more moments like that, because Sam played it flawlessly.
Laudna!! A poor farm girl in Whitestone, brought by her naive parents to the Briarwoods so they could teach her magic. They killed her, and likely her parents, but resurrected her. And more than that, her Warlock Patron is absolutely Delilah Briarwood in hag form. Whoo. This was sort of what I thought might be her past, and I’m glad she was an ordinary person of Whitestone, caught in the crossfire. I really didn’t like the ‘secret De Rolo’ theory, and getting to see the consequences for all those ordinary people is actually way more interesting to me.
Finally, Dorian is a second son of a very wealthy and noble Genasi family, and he wanted to leave them for ... reasons. And he apparently left very wealthy if him throwing around more money than Ashton has ever seen is any indication. And why ever he left, apparently his older brother shared those reasons, as he got introduced at the very end of the episode. And Dorian neglected to mention him to anyone, even Orym and Fearne.
So much information!
Beyond Backstory Drink-em-Up, this was largely a bridge episode, filling in what options they have and plot-hooks still dangle. People seem to want to chase down Orym’s backstory issues, but those are on pause until Breshio is awake or recovered. Until then, we’ve got the theatre, Dorian’s brother, and whatever comes of that.
The theatre plot seems like it could be a fun little diversion until Breshio can get lined up, but it’s Dorian’s brother that has me wondering. See, I feel like Robbie has been brought on as a ‘guest star’ for a while, as a sort of trial run to see how he likes being at the table long-term, and how Matt can handle more players. I have to wonder if bringing in the older brother is actually a means of either getting Dorian to cement staying with the group or giving him a graceful out.
And I think it could address the other large issue that became apparent in this episode. While the team has started to gel, the EXU folks still seem like a separate adventuring party. They still feel like temporary allies and companions rather than being interested in joining the group permanently. Dorian is perhaps the least separate because of his personality, but a lot of that amiable act really is an act, and he’s not genuinely attached yet (though if he suddenly up and left, I think Laudna in particular would be very upset). Fearne will always stand a little separate, but she’s also very flexible about where she goes and what she does. Really, as far as true group cohesion goes, Orym is the sticking point right now. He’s clearly very reluctant to really join in with this new group, and reluctant to trust them with real information, even if they could help him. Ashton may wear his trust issues on his (lack of) sleeves, but Orym seems to have massive trust issues as well.
I think Dorian’s choice either to stay or leave is going to change that dynamic. If he stays, he’ll do it not just for the EXU folks, but because the others have won him over in a genuine way. That may even force Orym to reconsider how much he trusts the others (I can also see Orym and Ashton coming into genuine conflict over how much to trust Eshteross either before or after that happens). Orym needs a reason to stay and to start to love these folks as much as he loves the folks he was already traveling with.
And that’s where Dorian’s departure may also shake things in an interesting way. Dorian and Orym often act as a team, and if Orym suddenly lost that, he might have to start relying on the others more. And Dorian’s departure might also, depending on how it goes down, shake how Orym thinks of the situation in general, and how the rest of the group feels about one another. Launda is desperate for friends (her creepy gift to Dorian was fantastically ill-considered, but genuinely heart-felt and her attempt to make him feel better), Imogen likes how kind Dorian is, Orym and Fearne already trust him, FCG likes him, and Ashton seems fascinated by him. He’s a good part of the group, and either his decision to stay or leave the group is likely to shape them as much if not more than Bertrand’s death.
17 notes
·
View notes
Note
I find it like Impossible to connect to bands like other people do. I think I got ONE who I vibe with. And that’s Yungblud! BECAUSE HES MY ADHD IDOL AND I WATCH ALL HE INTERVIEWS….
But some folks will ask me about mainstream bands/albums/even songs and I’ll be like UHHH but if they play the song I’m like OH YEAH IVE HEARD THIS THATS A BOP but then I’ll never listen to it on my own and forget who played it within an hour….. I just have a random YouTube mix going on in the background at all times my music taste has turned into a ripe stew.
If it BOPS it’s gOOD. (If U have any folk songs that bop I’d be interested 👀 folk can be a jam
mmm yes my band is ajj, sean bonette the lead has adhd, so we twinning
Ive watched almost all his live shows
I just gotta get thru the 100+ episodes of live from quarantine
but yeah lemme grab my folkpunk masterlist i keep it on discord for easy access brb
folkpunk
AJJ (BEST FOLKPUNK BAND BABY)
days n dazes (SECOND BEST BABY),
pat the bunny (THIRD BEST wingnut dishwahers union, and ramshackle glory specifically are my faves but hes in other bands, hes an old classic folkpunk but hes retired now)
xiu xiu (more experimental indie but ay),
crywank (more antifolk but still called folkpunk by some),
the taxpayers (SAXOPHONE, read the album descriptions before listening it makes shit make more sense especially for thanks bastards, if u like em try their other band anxiety cat, a branch off band by the main singer),
apes of state (its lesbians music baby),
bridge city sinners (folk more so),
ferocious dogs (ive only listened to a lil but very fun folk),
local news legend (lesbian music baby),
kimya dawson (i havent listens much rlly but ppl like it also lesbians),
mccaferty (band front man is a fucking terrible person but i still like the album beachboy, if u want to listen to music that sounds exactly the same with out the lead singers baggage listen to next band),
the front bottoms (sounds identical to mccaferty but unproblematic and slightly better),
defiance ohio (havent listened in a while but theyre fun),
ghostmice (another bad band front man i actually dont like them that much i think i only like shelter, listen with caution like do research a bit first),
harley poe (SLAPS SO HARD SATANIC STUFF AND ADULTERY AND MURDER),
the homeless gospel choir (meh not my fave but okay),
miscief brew (not my fave in any way but some ppl like em, theyre older folkpunk stuff),
the mountain goats (i only like a few songs i dont like their song textures srry),
i fucking hate neutral milk hotel but try it at least (theres a good two headed boy cover by ajj that SLAPS SO HARD),
the orphans (meh vibes kinda boring tbh),
rent strike (more folky nice vibes!),
she/her/hers (okayish i dont listen much tbh rlly, trans girl and lesbian music),
we the heathens (im still going thru their stuff rnow their quite good!)
There hope u enjoy. Its every folkpunk band ive listened to and a short sentence of my thoughts
AJJ is the best band
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
Serendipity
note: this story is inspired by how I, when I traveled to DC, picked up the wrong suitcase at the airport. I obviously didn’t meet Jake in the process, but it was still pretty memorable. (actually it was a fckn nightmare, but I can laugh about it now) anyway, here’s some nerdy Jake for you, enjoy :)
pairing: Jake Tapper x female Reader
words: 4.8 k
warnings: swearing, mild smut, questionable star wars references (blame my bf, those are his takes)
serendipity
/ˌsɛr(ə)nˈdɪpɪti/
noun
1. the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way
“Cmon, open, you stupid thing.” You muttered, fumbling with the lock of your suitcase. You were supposed to be at the job interview in only three hours and you needed to get ready and change into professional attire soon. But said outfit was in your suitcase and the lock was obviously jammed.
Against your better judgement, you started rummaging through your small hotel room in search of something to break the lock with. The rational part of your brain knew that this wasn’t necessarily a good idea, but you were desperate. This job was the opportunity of a lifetime and you’d be damned if you turned up there looking anything but your best.
You finally found a small knife hidden in a drawer of the wardrobe. You didn’t even want to think about how it got there, but you couldn’t afford to be picky now. You tried sticking the blade between the two pieces of the lock, when you suddenly realized something. The luggage tag was dark green. This wasn’t your suitcase. Fuck.
You were on your feet in a second, taking your phone and calling the airport hotline. You needed this handled, fast. You described the situation in all its direness to a pretty unimpressed lady from the service hotline. She told you that there hasn’t been any luggage left behind that fit the description, which could only mean that whoever the owner of the suitcase in your hotel room was, they likely made the same mistake and took yours home with them. You mentally slapped yourself for buying that unremarkable black suitcase, thinking that should’ve gone for red or another flashy color instead.
“You still have to come back to the service terminal and hand over the luggage item you falsely took with you, ma’am.” The woman told you, still sounding terribly bored. Her job probably wasn’t the most exciting one.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
You quickly hung up, grabbing the suitcase in question as well as your purse before sprinting out of the door. You hailed the first cab you saw in front of your downtown DC hotel.
“To the airport and make it fast please.” You told the driver the second you got into the backseat, dumping the suitcase between your legs.
Lucky for you, traffic was flowing and the trip to the airport didn’t take too long, but you still checked the time every two seconds, your fingers thrumming nervously against the cab window.
Finally at the airport, you threw the money at the cab driver before jumping out of the car and running into the terminal, your eyes scanning the giant hall for the luggage service desk. The second you spotted it; you made your way over. Getting closer, you couldn’t ignore a deep, aggressive voice sounding over the usual buzz of the arrival hall.
“No, ma’am, no you listen to me now. This suitcase is of tremendous importance, the documents in there are incredibly valuable. I want it to be taken care of right now.”
The voice belonged to a man standing in front of the service counter, and judging by the way he was gesticulating, he was pretty angry. But what really drew your attention to the guy was what was next to him. Your suitcase. You ran towards it, dragging its identical twin behind you.
“Sir, excuse me, I think we both have something the other person could be interested in.” you panted, slightly breathless from running.
The man whirled around to face you, and for a moment you were totally struck by how handsome he was. He appeared to be several years older than you, but his grey hair, tall stature and commanding presence made for a really attractive appearance. Also, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you had seen him before, but you couldn’t place him for the life of you. He looked at you for a brief moment before his eyes shot to the piece of luggage next to you.
“Oh, thank god.” He exclaimed, and almost yanked the suitcase out of your hands. "Next time, watch out whose luggage you’re taking.” He snapped. That’s rich, you thought, as if he hadn’t picked up the wrong one as well.
"Hey, no need to be rude.” You muttered, but he didn’t hear you, he was already back to talking the woman behind the service counter,hopefully explaining that everything was solved now and saving you some time. Your own suitcase was still standing next to the stranger, so you decided to just take it.
“You both still need to fill out this form, Ma’am, Sir.” The woman said, and both of you groaned but complied. After hastily scribbling down your details, you bid the lady goodbye and ran back to the cab rank.
The clock was ticking, you still had to get back to the city to make it to your interview in time. A quick look onto your watch confirmed your fears, it already was too late to go back to the hotel, you had to change in a restroom somewhere. You contemplated and decided to take a ride back into the city first and find an opportunity to change there before the commuters would block the freeway.
A cab was pulling up and you already made your way over when suddenly, the man who took your suitcase cut you in line and opened the door of the car. You were not having that, raising your voice to call him out.
“Hey, Mister, that was my cab. You better get in line.”
“I’m in a hurry, I have to be on air in an hour.” He snapped back, but you were unimpressed.
“You could be needed in the damn White House in an hour for all I care, I have a job interview, and this is my cab, so step back.” You were usually a patient person, but this guy has been testing you too much already. He raised his hands in a mock defensive gesture before speaking up again.
“Maybe we could split the cab. Where do you need to go?”
“CNN headquarters.” You replied reluctantly, it wasn’t like where you were headed was any of this mans concern.
“Interesting, that just happens to be my destination as well.” The stranger mused, now grinning at you. “So, how does splitting the cab sound?”
You begrudgingly agreed and sat down next to him in the backseat. As the engine started going, so did the wheels in your head. He had said that he had to be on air, and he needed to get to CNN as well. Oh…
“What did you say your name was again?” you asked, nervousness now fairly evident in your voice.
“It’s Jake. Tapper.” He said, mockingly extending his hand.
Well Shit. That’s why his face has been so oddly familiar.
You quickly introduced yourself as well, awkwardly shaking the offered hand.
“Sorry, I didn’t recognize you with those glasses.” You added meekly, feeling like dying of mortification. As it happened to be, the position you were aiming for was with the politics department of CNN, and while Tapper wasn’t your potential boss, he definitely was a big shot, being the lead Washington Anchor and everything. Great first impression.
“So, you said you have a job interview at CNN?” he asked, a hint of smugness in his voice. He could clearly sense your embarrassment. “Which department?”
You were definitely blushing now. “Politics.”
"Oh, well best of luck then, hopefully we’ll be colleagues soon.” He said, and you couldn’t make out if he was being serious or just messing with you.
The rest of the ride was spent in silence, you checked the notes you prepared for the interview one last time and if the man next to you was aware of what you were doing, he didn’t care, eyes glued to the screen of his phone. His presence did nothing to calm your fluttering nerves, your leg was twitching like crazy, and he noticed.
“Settle down.” He said quietly without looking up from his phone. His deep voice had a soothing effect, calming you for a brief moment.
When the cab pulled up in front of the CNN building, Jake got out first and held the door for you. Your nervousness came rushing back with a vengeance as you laid eyes on the big red sign over the entrance.
“When you get in, it’s the first elevator on the right, 5th floor.” Jake said, giving you a sharp nod before disappearing into the crowd filtering in and out of the huge glass doors. He could’ve at least said goodbye, you thought.
You quickly made your way inside, there was only half an hour remaining and you still had to find a spot to change, preferably one with a mirror because you certainly looked wild after all that running around. Luckily, there was a spacious restroom right next to the elevator and after you put on your work attire and a bit of makeup, you felt slightly better equipped for the task ahead of you.
+++
The interview went incredibly well, so well that you did a little happy dance on your way back to the elevator, the relief and hope for getting the job putting a pep in your step.
You rode back down to the lobby, where you decided to treat yourself with a nice caramel Frappuccino from the coffee cart. You were just about to get your purse out to pay when a familiar voice called out from behind you.
“Here, let me get this. And a black coffee please.”
Jake Tapper stepped up beside you and put the required money on the counter. He looked like he had just come off air, there was still a smudge of studio makeup on the collar of his dress shirt, and his hair was meticulously styled.
Again, his presence was slightly unsettling to you, even more so with him being in his anchor attire. Before you could reply anything, he grabbed your cup, which was almost overflowing with whipped cream and syrup, from the barista and handed it to you with a slightly disgusted expression on his face. “I wanted to pay for this atrocity of a beverage to make up for my rude behavior earlier, but now I’m doubtful if I’m really doing you a favor.”
“To be quite honest, I pity you for drinking black coffee while I can enjoy this.” You replied, taking a deep sip of the drink, sighting as its delicious sweetness covered your tongue. “But thank you.” You added. “Everything is forgiven, you were just as stressed out as I was.”
Jake watched you with an unreadable expression for a moment before he opened his mouth again. “Still, my apologies. The documents in the suitcase were of a very delicate nature, a source gave them to me, they could’ve caused quite some trouble in the wrong hands.” He paused for a moment, as if he was thinking of how to continue.
“Anyway, how did the interview go?” he asked, his voice bare of any teasing now.
“It went pretty well, I’d say. They told me I’m going to hear from them in about a week, which is good, that way I’d still have another three weeks to pack up my life in Phoenix and move here should they offer me the position.”
“Phoenix, huh.” Jake remarked, taking a sip from his own coffee. “That’s a long way. What made you decide to apply for a job that would require you to move all across the country?”
“Phoenix is great, but its Phoenix, you know. Things are different down there, slow-paced, you always feel like you’ll never be on the frontline, especially when it comes to covering politics. And DC is where the magic happens, so it was the only logical choice for me.” You replied.
“Well, I can’t argue with that. But make sure you’ll bring a coat with you should you get the job, compared to Phoenix, DC is artic.” Jake noted, the glint of humor making his eyes appear warm and open. He really looked handsome when he smiled, you noticed, there were little wrinkles around his eyes and his teeth were perfectly straight and white.
“I’ll keep that in mind, but I’m sure I’ll find something to keep myself warm once I’m here.” You said, looking directly at him. Somehow, this man brought out your flirtatious side.
He chuckled again, a low and pleasant sound. It sounded downright sexy, and you could feel a small shiver going down your spine. He and reached into the pocket of his suit jacket, retrieving a pen. He scribbled something onto one of the paper napkins that had come with your coffee order and handed it to you.
“If you get the job, just contact me and I’ll make sure you have every amenity you need to properly settle in.” he said, and by now he was blatantly flirting with you, something you did not mind at all.
“I’ll be sure to stay in touch, Mr. Tapper.” You spoke. “But I have to run now. Thanks for the drink.”
“Goodbye, Ms. Y/L/N. I’m looking forward to giving you the grand tour on your first day here. And it’s Jake, please.”
+++
You got the job. The next weeks were a blur of goodbyes, moving boxes and apartment hunting. You barely had a moment to breathe, and it was only when you packed your final stuff into your black suitcase that you remembered Jake Tapper, and that you were supposed to contact him. You had kept the napkin with his number in your purse, and when you fished it out and dialed, your heart sped up, fluttering like a bird inside your chest.
You hung up before even hearing the first ring. What you were trying to achieve with this call? He had been clearly flirting with you back in DC, and now you were about to start working for the network he basically was the face of. And yes, he was funny and attractive, but getting tangled up with the big star before you even got a foot in the door there didn’t sound like the best idea.
You decided to let it slide. Your career came first now, you had worked too hard to let a fling get in the way of that.
+++
The first day was a crazy whirlwind of impressions and faces, and when you finally settled into your little secluded work booth, you felt a tad overwhelmed by all the input. You were about to set up a little framed picture of your parents, when you felt someone approaching your desk. Before you could turn around, a coffee cup was placed in front of you, filled to the brim with whipped cream and all kinds of toppings and syrup.
“I didn’t remember your exact order, so I just requested the one that looked the most repugnant.” A deep voice said from behind you, and your heart started beating faster. It was Jake Tapper. “You didn’t call.” He stated. “I had to find out through the grapevine that you got the position.”
“Thank you for the coffee, this actually looks perfect. And I’m really sorry for not calling, the last weeks have been crazy, I just forgot.” You lied, trying to look as apologetic as possible.
He leaned onto the edge of your desk, his arm crossed in front of his chest. He looked really good, still in his casual clothes, his hair falling into his face. His dark eyes were fixed on you, and the look he was giving you was so intense that you felt your palms starting to get sweaty. You felt your resolve not to get involved with him crumble more with every minute in his presence.
“No offense taken.” He said, and the timbre of his voice made goosebumps break out on your arms. “Unfortunately, it’s already too late for me to give you the office tour. But let me make it up to you. Drinks, tonight after work?”
You decided to have some of fun with him, he was acting a bit too self-assured for your liking. You stretched your arms out above your head and let out a yawn. “Today was so busy, I just need to go home and get some sleep. But how about you ask me later again that week, maybe I’ll be free then.”
For a brief moment, Jakes eyes were transfixed on your thin blouse stretching over your chest, just like you intended. There was a voice in the back of your head, screaming at you to stop acting stupid and turn the man down. But you ignored it, he was too intriguing, too alluring to just send him away.
Jakes eyes snapped back to your face.
“I’m sure we can find another day. I’ll just visit you again.” He said, giving you another intense look.
“Sounds good for me. I have to finish unpacking everything now, but thanks again for the coffee.” You smiled cheekily, scooping up a dollop of whipped cream with your finger and sticking it into your mouth.
There was just the smallest hitch in Jakes breath, but you noticed. Strike, you thought gleefully. “I’ll see you around then.” He said, his voice slightly stained, before he disappeared in a hurry.
You leaned back into your chair with a smug grin, taking a deep sip of your hot beverage. That went surprisingly well. You pushed the nagging thought that getting into something with him was not a good idea aside. A couple of drinks wouldn’t hurt.
+++
You felt a small sense of triumph when Jake already returned the next day.
“For a man who claimed to be so busy back at the airport, you certainly have a lot of free time to visit me.” You greeted him with a cheeky grin.
“I was on this floor, so I thought I’d stop by to say Hi.” Jake said. He was wearing his glasses today and it was doing crazy things to your body. You weren’t sure if you could reject another invitation, but still decided to play it cool.
“Well, lucky me, I guess. Hi. No coffee today?” you asked, giving him a little fake pout.
“I see, I already spoiled you.” Jake chuckled, but his eyes were affectionate.
“You could make it up to me, though, maybe by buying me a drink tonight after work?” The smile that flashed over Jakes face made you forget any regret you might have felt about giving in so soon. Being the reason he smiled like that felt really good.
“It would be my pleasure. I’ll be on air until five, so I pick you up here at six?”
“So you’re just assuming that I’m going to work overtime?“
“It’s your first week on the job, of course you work overtime.” Jake shot back, grinning.
He was right, of course, you still had to learn your way around the department, so you decided to stay an hour longer each day to get the hang on everything.
“Just be here at six, smart arse.” You joked, and instantly regretted it, afraid you were being overly comfortable with Jake. But he just winked at you and walked away, a slight spring in his step.
+++
Jake was punctual, picking you up from your booth at six sharps. He was acting like a real gentleman, holding the door to the office, the cab and the bar he picked out, a cozy place in downtown DC, away from Capitol Hill and the possibility of running into someone familiar.
The black suit he was wearing and the martini he had ordered gave Jake a very James-Bond-like look that you enjoyed immensely. You made a terrible “shaken, not stirred” joke that, miraculously, still made him laugh. Conversation was surprisingly easy, Jake could contribute something to basically any topic you broached. His vast knowledge of…well, everything was simultaneously sexy and intimidating, something that could be applied to his whole persona.
It wasn’t like he was a completely different person than on his show, his sharp observations and cutting sarcasm were still very much there, making you a bit hesitant to voice all your opinions freely. But there also was a lighter side to him that didn’t appear on television. For example, he was a huge nerd. You just uttered “Star Wars” a single time and spent the next twenty minutes listening to his detailed ranking of the entire movie franchise. At first, you were just feigning interest, but he was so passionate about the topic that you couldn’t help but get interested. When you confessed that you had never seen a Star Wars movie before, Jake wasn’t having it.
“Ok, this can’t stand. Friday, my place, were watching Star Wars. I can’t let you run around that uneducated.” He replied, and your heart took up pace like a racehorse. Going to his place was a huge step after just one date and really knowing each other for only three days. But as much as you wanted to decline, you wanted nothing more than to spend some more time with this man, against all reservations you had.
“I have a master’s degree from Brown, don’t call me uneducated.” you said, reaching out to playfully slap his arm. But he caught your wrist mid-air, making blood rush to your face because of the grip of his fingers against your skin.
“Careful, Y/N.” he murmured. Why was his voice suddenly so deep and sensual? Your eyes met, and for a second, the air was buzzing between the two of you. Then Jake let go of your hand, and the moment was over. But you could still feel a lingering prickle at where his skin had touched yours.
“So, what do you say?” He asked, his voice back to its normal tone. You had to decide quickly, not about watching Star Wars but about what kind of message to send to Jake. Coming over to his place was a risk, were you ready to take it?
He looked at you, waiting for you to say something, and his eyes were so damn hopeful.
“Sure, why not. But there better be snacks.” You replied. Here goes nothing.
+++
It was Friday, and you stood in front of Jake Tappers apartment door, a bottle of wine clutched in your sweaty hand. You weren’t sure what one was supposed to bring for a Star Wars movie night, so you decided on a white wine you liked to buy for yourself.
A moment after you rung the doorbell, Jake was already there, almost as if he had been waiting behind the door. You smiled at him, presenting the bottle.
“I hope you like white wine.” you said. Wow, what a lamer starter, you thought. But Jake graciously took the bottle and stepped aside to let you enter the apartment.
“I love white wine, thank you very much.” He said, sounding genuine.
His flat was nice, clean and surprisingly void of clutter. You had never been to his office but back at the bar he had talked about collecting a lot of historical stuff back, he obviously kept all of that at work. There was a nice, comfortable looking sofa, but it was the table in front of you that made your eyes light up.
“Oh my god, Jake, this is snack heaven! You really outdid yourself.” You exclaimed, beaming at him. There were chips, dips, popcorn, chocolate covered pretzels and even jellybeans.
“You said you wanted snacks.” Jake said, matter-of-factly and you took a moment to really look at him. He was dressed casually today, wearing a grey jumper that looked incredibly soft, and jeans. Overall, he looked fantastic, and you could feel your heart starting to beat faster when you were thinking about sitting close to him on the sofa.
“How about you make yourself comfortable, I’m going to pour us some wine and then we can get started.” Jake said, disappearing into the kitchen. You sat down on the sofa, it was really cozy. You had to keep yourself from snuggling back into the cushions, reminding yourself that you were not at home here and this was still very much Jake Tappers apartment. A moment later, the man himself came back, carrying two glasses of wine that he put down in front of you on a small spot of the table that wasn’t occupied by snacks.
He sat down next to you, keeping a respectful distance.
“So, we are going to start with the fourth movie, which is actually the first movie that was filmed back in 1978, they made three prequels later but nobody that considers themself a true Star Wars fan would introduce someone to the franchise by watching part one.” Jake explained. Seeing him so passionate about this was really endearing, even if you weren’t a hundred percent sure what he was talking about.
“You have my complete and total trust in this matter, I am here to learn.” You joked, and Jakes responding chuckle made warmth bloom in your belly.
The movie was really good, you were intrigued by the characters and the storyline, but what was even better was watching the film with Jake. Some people were annoyed by others talking during a movie, but you enjoyed the occasional fun fact immensely, and Jake was a walking encyclopedia of Star Wars trivia.
“Did you know that the guy who did Darth Vader’s voice and the actor who played him never actually met?”
“During the trash compactor scene, Mark Hamill held his breath for so long that a blood vessel in his face popped, that’s why they only took shots from one side, pay attention to it and you will notice.”
You quietly munched your popcorn while he was talking, watching him with keen interest bothering on fascination. Star Wars fan Jake was glorious in his nerdiness. How was this the same man that was ripping apart politicians every day on television and had snapped at you at the airport?
“I’m sure someone told you this before, but you a such a nerd.” You grinned, playfully throwing a piece of popcorn at him.
“I consider myself the nerd king.” He declared, voice so deadly serious that you couldn’t stop yourself from bursting out laughing. Jake turned around to look at you. Why was his face so mesmerizing? And why was he suddenly sitting so close to you?
“Your laugh is beautiful.” He said quietly. And then he was kissing you. Your brain tried to catch up and make sense of the sudden new development, but Jakes lips were too soft and his hand on your tight to warm and heavy for you to focus on anything else. You responded enthusiastically, tilting your head to deepen the kiss and wrapping your arms around his neck. His tongue slid across your bottom lip, teasing you until you opened your mouth.
His hands were on your hips now, pulling you closer until you were sitting on his lap. He leaned into the back of the sofa and slid his palms down your sides until they settled on your ass. You started to softly grind your hips into his and your body went into overdrive as you felt the evidence of how much he was enjoying the kiss pressed against your core through your jeans.
“Jake.” You moaned against his mouth. “What about the movie?”
“Fuck the movie.” He whispered, attacking your lips again, his hands squeezing your ass.
Breaking the kiss, you brought some distance between your faces to look at him with mock indignation.
“Don’t let your nerd friends hear that.”
“My nerd friends would tell me to shut up about Star Wars when a woman like you is sitting on my lap.” Jake responded with a smirk, and you couldn’t argue with that.
He kissed you again, and needless to say, you didn’t finish the movie.
Jake took you to his bed instead, slowly undressing you, kissing and touching every inch of your skin he could reach in the process. He slid between your legs, entering you in one fluid motion and your hands stayed tangled in his hair as you moved against each other. His eyes never left yours, and from the way he looked at you, you knew that this was something real. When you hit your peak, your guttural cry of Jakes name was all it took for him to follow you over the edge.
Afterwards, you snuggled up against him and silently thanked the fates that you had picked up that wrong suitcase.
(about 6 months later)
“I can’t believe ours really are the last ones.” You groaned, leaning onto Jake while stifling a yawn. “I just want to go home.”
“You slept the whole flight, Y/N, and I’m sure the luggage will be here any moment. Patience, love.” Jake replied, sounding rather tired himself.
You had just arrived from Barbados, your first holiday together. It had been amazing, nothing but eating, swimming and relaxing for two weeks. But it was the middle of the night now, and you had already been waiting at the baggage claim for thirty minutes.
“Just stay here and let me lean on you and I’ll be fine. You have to watch me anyway, not that some grumpy, hot stranger mistakes my luggage for his and I meet him at the service desk and fall irrevocably in love with him because of that.” You said, letting out a soft chuckle.
Jake just wrapped his arm around you, pulling you tightly against his chest.
“That’s why I got you that nice red suitcase for your birthday, can’t let that happen again.”
#jake tapper#jake tapper imagine#jake tapper fic#jake tapper x reader#fanfiction#cnn anchors#cnn#cnn fic#imagine
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
stupid incoherent Arthuriana based story ramblings i had to shove somewhere. tbh it’s insane, but funny enough that i thought i’d at least share the ideas. (brandy bottle knighthood and other classic hijinks, 1/?)
please note this is in no way, shape, or form even trying to pretend to by accurate to the text. this is a crack fic for the sole purpose of good ol’ fashion feel something again entertainment.
debating on posting/continuing to write this thing based off Arthurian legend. will absolutely be buck wild and only use the most bizarre lore/barest minimum recognisable stuff (half of which is stuff pulled from the Disney vers plot/the one movie i think is just called ‘Arthur’?). like dead-ass pretty much only names and obscure powers. and it is really queer, i mean like pretty much every character is some flavour of LGBTQ+.
for a general idea of the tone, there are 4 working titles; brandy bottle knighthood and other classic hijinks, the queer antics of the round table rebels, the many tales of the rebel king and his beloved knights, (and finally) a series of increasingly ridiculous happenings centred around the Pen Draig twins roughly coalesced into a maddening but mostly tangible plot. (the last one’s my favourite)
one last point i need to mention, ya’ll cool is we briefly let Kay and Arthur think Ector set them to get fucked (read executed for treason, it’ll make sense later i swear)? absolutely not permanent, i’m a slut redemption arcs, but just for the narrative knife twisting, you know? 76% of this is found family fluff, the angst has to go somewhere. (hurt/comfort drawn out for two chapters. don’t worry, they work it out; ‘Of family and rainstorms’ and ‘The storm breaks, we are safe and warm’. sappy titles, eh? they get worse trust me) stans please don’t hurt me, i’m only doing this bc i love you
(alrighty, with all the crack fic warnings out of the way, last chance to back out, i am just gonna info dump all the insane jot-notes directly from my notebook, of which half i don’t remember writing down.)
all set? good, let’s get this show on the road i guess.
weird random shit it would have include(but is in no way limited too):
[background info/prologue?]
-Uther had wed a woman named Westenra(sounds pretty and i could not be bothered to look up his wife’s actual name. we’ll just say her real name is the one she used in a public setting).
-first huge change, Wes is fae. (why? bc i said so.) Uther is fully aware of this and is loving it. “pretty lady and she could rip me apart without even lifting a finger?” 0////0
(don’t get attached to this tho, they both die like 14 years before the story even starts.)
-unimportant fact #1: wes is like a foot and a half taller than Uther. none of this matters but it’s important to me you know this. okay back the mess of bullet point i called ‘plot relevant’
- royal couple with baby! two actually. yes big change two is Arthur and Morgan are twins and no other siblings. i like them the best, the others can be fae encountered later. maybe.
-oh, and are like half fae too, i guess. (yay for drawing purposes bc pointy ears and tails! no i didn’t think through how Arthur’s gonna hide these traits for like 14 years, i’ll figure it out later)
-babies arrive, but oh no treason!
-so the king’s dead now, that’s fun. kingdom get uspered (idk, pick a villain or make one up, all the same. will be referred to as King Man Person or KMP until further notice)
-newborns get shunted off onto the closest loyal attendants for safe keeping, Wes promptly goes wrathful fae queen, wrecks shit, but gets mortally wounded.
-she jams Uther’s sword (fancy wedding gift from the lady of the lake) in that churchyard rock, binding it to her bloodline so only the twins can wield it, takes husband’s body into a forest, whereupon she dies and the bodies turn into an oak tree bc magic i guess.
-kids get pawned off to separate them (think the luke & leia, for their protection kinda thing) . the usual Ector adopts Arthur stuff. Morgan gets raised by the witches of Avalon.
- time skip and we’re ready to actually start taking plot...
...in the next post. this one’s already really long.
#series of increasingly ridiculous happenings centred around the Pen Draig twins roughly coalesced into a maddening but mostly tangible plot#brandy bottle knighthood and other classic hijinks#arthuriana#crack fic#100% not serious at all#sword in the stone#but i utterly take the piss#it's dumb i know#1/?#it's 2am and i should be doing math#uther pendragon#faerie shit#and more magick#shapeshifting#wes is a tol thicc queen and i love her#girlboss#arthur pendragon#morgan pendragon#apparently Pen Draig is another version#and i think it's cooler#so that's probably what i'll use#means king/chief dragon/warrior#or something similar#according to google anyways#this will piss someone off#i can just feel it#i am very clearly not serious#this is a joke this is a joke#an excuse to draw arthur with pointy ears and a tail#it's about family and being gay and causing chaos
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Kingsman: The Bear and the Fairy Chapter 7
TITLE: Kingsman: The Bear and the Fairy Chapter 7
PAIRING: Jack “Agent Whiskey” Daniels/OC
RATING: M
CHAPTER: 7/?
SUMMARY: When the Kingsman and the Statesman join together to stop Poppy Adams, the last thing Elizabeth expected was to fall in love with a tall, dark, and handsome cowboy named after a brand of whiskey.
[A/N - What’s this? A smooch between our favorite southern bear and his fairy?]
A woman named Poppy Adams, a drug lord essentially, had infected millions of people using various drugs she distributed.
The next few days, the whole world was in a panic.
The Statesman and the Kingsman were at a loss of what to do.
Now the President was suggesting they just let people die.
“Whether they broke the law or not, those victims are human beings,” Champ said, “Tequila. He’s a great guy. And a great agent. Right now, he’s lying in deep freeze waitin’ on our help.”
“We can’t make this personal, sir,” Jack told him.
“Personal? Agent, we can’t stand by and let folks like him die. These people, we’re their only hope. Now, we have to find that antidote.”
“Poppy’s stockpiles, well, they could be anywhere.”
“She must have some on hand,” Harry said, “Locate Poppy and obtain a sample for analysis. Maybe it can be replicated.”
Ginger and Merlin appeared on the TV screen.
“Sorry to cut in, guys. But Charlie is on the phone with his girlfriend. Looping you in now.”
The audio appeared on the screen, along with her exact location.
“Don’t worry. I’m on a payphone covered in a fucking blue rash. Why didn’t you tell me? All you said was Don’t take any drugs. It was a music festival for fuck’s sake,” Clara said.
“Fuck. Shit. Shit! Okay. Listen. You need to get to the lab in Italy. Do you remember where we went skiing?” Charlie asked.
“Yes. Yes, I remember.”
“Yeah. Meet me there and I’ll give you the antidote.”
Clara sighed. “Okay.” She hung up.
“Alright. Jet’s ready. Whiskey, le Fay, Galahad, get to Italy,” Champ told them.
Both Harry and Eggsy stood up.
“You two need to fix this code name thing,” Whiskey said, “And with all due respect, sir…I don’t think Galahad senior is ready to return to field work.”
“I’m not going anywhere without him,” Elizabeth said. Jack sighed. “Now, darlin’…”
“Don’t you darlin’ me, Jack. Harry goes or I don’t.”
“I’m with Elizabeth on this one,” Eggsy said, “We’re not going anywhere without him. Brains…” He gestured to Harry. “Skills…” He gestured to himself. “Beauty.” He winked at Elizabeth, making her roll her eyes. Eggsy turned to Jack. “Skipping rope?”
Champ laughed.
“It’s a lasso,” Jack told him.
“Whatever. Come on,” Eggsy said, standing up.
“Go on. Vamoose,” Champ said, waving his hand.
“Yes, sir,” Jack said.
“Wait. Before we go…Champ? I was wondering if I could ask you for a favor?”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Elizabeth felt like herself again.
Twin katana blades strapped to her back, knives in forearm holsters, knives in thigh holsters, and two knives tucked into the sides of her boots.
“Whew darlin’. You’re like a porcupine with all those weapons,” Jack said.
“What? Afraid I’ll prick you, Jack?” Elizabeth teased.
They stepped through the gates and made their way to one of the gondolas to ride to the top.
Harry started to follow them.
“Hold up. We need you down here, Galahad. To secure the control room,” Jack told him.
“Probably a good idea, Harry,” Eggsy agreed, “Call you from the top, yeah?”
Harry nodded and the doors closed. About a minute later, they heard, “At the controls. In position.”
“Thanks, Harry,” Elizabeth said.
“Anytime Lizzy-Bee.”
“So…Lizzy-Bee huh?” Jack asked.
“No. Only Harry gets to call me that. Come up with something else, cowboy.”
Jack smiled. “Challenge accepted, darlin’.”
They reached the top and the doors opened.
“Keep this cable car here till we get back,” Eggsy told Harry.
“Roger that, Eggsy.”
Eggsy checked his watch for Clara’s location. “Clara’s definitely here. We’re getting warmer.
They walked down a corridor, scanning for a secret entrance.
Eggsy’s watch started beeping. “Looks like we’ve got a door.”
“Yep,” Ginger confirmed.
“There you go,” Merlin said and the wall slid open.
Eggsy stepped forward.
“We’ll cover,” Jack said and Eggsy started walking down the steps. “
So, you like sharp objects don’tcha?” Jack asked Elizabeth.
“I kinda have this thing. I can sense people, so it makes my aim more accurate.”
“Why not just use a gun?”
Elizabeth slipped one of her knives out of her forearm holsters and held the sharp tip to Jack’s throat. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Elizabeth’s eyes flickered between Jack’s lips and his eyes. Finally she leaned up and pressed her lips to his. The knife dropped from her hands as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Jack’s large hands held her waist.
“Is this really the time!” Eggsy yelled, running up the steps.
Elizabeth quickly grabbed her knife off the ground and shoved into her holster.
“Jam the door!” Jack yelled as they ran down the corridor.
They made it to the gondola.
“Galahad! We’re comin’!” Jack yelled, “All clear the bottom? Galahad, come in!”
“Harry!” Elizabeth yelled.
“Away, butterflies,” Harry said.
“Shit! He’s hallucinating again!”
“Harry, you’ve got to shut the doors. Please,” Eggsy begged.
“Please Harry. Just focus for a minute.”
“Shut the fucking door, Harry! Harry, are you there?”
The doors started closing.
“Well done, Harry. Good. Thanks, man.” Eggsy spotted Charlie and waved at him. Charlie waved back and Eggsy tucked the antidote in his pocket. “All clear down there, Harry?”
“All clear,” Harry confirmed.
Charlie’s face appeared on the screen in the gondola. “Hello Eggsy, Elizabeth. Enjoy the ride, bruv.”
Elizabeth was about to ask what he meant by that when the gondola started spinning.
#agent whiskey#agent whiskey/oc#agent whiskey imagine#agent merlin#agent ginger ale#agent champagne#jack daniels#jack daniels/oc#jack daniels imagine#eggsy unwin#eggsy unwin imagine#harry hart#harry hart imagines#kingsman#kingsman imagine#statesman#statesman imagine#kingsman: the bear and the fairy#pedro pascal#pedro pascal imagine
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
Blabbing about this Musician!au I started last summer that has now also turned into a marching band!au because I got sad and nostalgic because despite how shitty it could be, marching band defined my high school life and social life and I couldn’t had asked for anything else.
I also don’t have every single prequel character (because this au is surrounding the prequel characters) in Star Wars smacked into here, and I gave up halfway through a couple of months ago in terms of brainstorming. Anyways, this is hella long so check everything out under the line if you’d like! don’t want to spam everyone with something that’s like, 4 pages long
Now, you might be asking. What instruments are these characters playing, or what are they doing in marching band? well, boy oh boy do I have some lore for you.
Anakin Skywalker: alright lets start of with the “Chosen One”. Now, I gotta say. He’s got some intense brass vibes, specifically high brass. But I don’t know. He didn’t really mesh well. And given his natural talent with the Force in canon, I thought that Anakin would be a sort of prodigy. And we all know the two instruments associated with that: the piano and violin. He’s more of a piano dude, so here we go! piano prodigy Anakin Skywalker. He also gives mad drumline vibes, and I can see him as either the lead snare, setting the tempo, or the main quad player. He’s brash, slightly obnoxious, but damn is he fucking good at what he does.
Obi-Wan Kenobi: I literally started this AU on the idea that Obi-Wan would play the cello. One of the defining quotes for him is that fucking “infinite sadness” quote. And we all know that cellos play some of the saddest pieces out there. (see: Elgar cello concerto) However, I can’t see him as a marching band dude. He doesn’t really give off color guard vibes (since that’s where most non-band people go to) so I have him as the resident student helper who everyone tolerates because he brings ice cream after band camp.
Ahsoka Tano: Ahsoka is a flute player. As a flute player, I have intimate knowledge on this. She’s like the chill flute player who’s competitive enough to keep her position as principal, but is also chill enough to not have a big ego that butts heads with everyone. She also gives mad color guard vibes. Also speaking about that from personal experience (am I lowkey projecting my own experiences on her? you didn’t hear that from me). She seems like the type to love swing flags and sabre, and is 100% captain by senior year.
I have Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka as siblings in this AU because I say so. Qui-Gon is around here somewhere as the resident hippie dad who lowkey smokes pot and will support his children while giving a big ‘fuck you’ to Dooku.
Yoda’s also in here somewhere, and I love the idea that he’s an old Chinese/Asian man who refuses to speak english and will only do so with the most backwards grammar so his grandchild (Qui-Gon) and great-grandchildren (the trio) are forced to speak Mandarin/Cantonese to him (pick your poison). He just spends his days cutting up fruit and also might pull out his erhu if everyone asks nice enough. (I want to say he was a Peking Opera musician, but immigrated during Mao’s reign after he lost opportunities during the cultural revolution)
So, I know that it doesn’t make sense for a family to have 3 sets of twins and one triplet set, but fuck that I do what I want.
Cody Fett: okay so, Cody 100% plays the french horn. I don’t know, he just, he does. He’s got that air of sophistication because he can play the hardest brass instrument, but at the same time, he’s incredibly good at it and is matter-of-fact about it. He also would be the mello section leader (I was playing with the idea of drum major, but for now, leaving him as a section leader for now). He’s a bit uptight to be a low brass player, but cool enough to still be associated with the general brass group.
Rex Fett: I got Rex and Cody as the eldest Fett twins. Rex feels like a string player, so I have him on violin. I can see him be very hardworking and practicing diligently to the point where he easily sweeps through to concertmaster in high school and the local youth orchestra. He also gives of mad drum major vibes. I can see him copying music, handing out drill charts, and hauling the met around. Also, just think about Rex doing a fancy ass salute at competitions. Yes.
Next round of twins lets gooo
Jesse Fett: You could say Jesse has brass vibes. I see him as a reed person though. In concert band, he’s on clarinet. I used to think clarinets were as stuck up as us flutes but no they’re literally balls of chaotic energy ready to be unleashed. Just imagine Jesse blaming everything on his reed. I see him as the guy who switches to saxophone for marching band, though. He’s got the energy of the clarinet and the saxophone harnessed. Also, wouldn’t be surprised if he knows how to play the sousa.
Kix Fett: Y’know, when I originally made this AU, I had Kix as a musician as well. I’m gonna scratch that. He’s going to medical school, or at least, he’s planning to. He’s on the pre-med track and is dying in organic chemistry and wishes there weren’t so many pre-requisites. However, in high school, he definitely played the oboe. Of course Kix chose one of the hardest instruments to play. Also, just imagine him trying to make his own reeds. I don’t see him as a guy who’s in marching band. He’ll come to competitions and maybe football games if he’s bullied into it. Kix is the guy who’s classes are all AP and he’s dying inside.
Next round of twins yeet:
Fives Fett: shit, I forgot I gave them all real names. If I remember correctly, Fives is Frank. Anyways, trumpet vibes. Need I say more? He’s on the trumpet in marching band as well and he’s the dude who’s obsessed with DCI and always tries to play as high as he possibly can and absolutely demolishes his chops. I would say he’s section leader as well. He also hangs with the drumline at the back of the bus and always plays meme songs on blast and sends weird pictures to people’s phone via open airdrop.
Echo Fett: I think his birth name is Ethan??? I’m spitting thoughts not checking my old documents. Anyways. Echo feels like a string person. Specifically, low strings. So, he plays the bass. Upright bass. Whatever. You get what I mean. He sleeps in the case after school and hates hauling it everywhere. He was in marching band as a mello player (the easiest brass instrument to pick up for the activity so) but he was in a car crash that left him paralyzed from the hip down, and had to quit to recover. He never stopped playing, and found ways to adjust. (I do not know how exactly this would work, since I’m able bodied and also don’t play the bass, but I know he’d at least have a stool to sit on in order to lean his body on. let me know if you have other ideas i’d love to hear them!)
Finally, we got the triplets:
Dogma Fett: Dogma plays the bassoon. He’s a low reed kinda guy and between the bari sax, bass clarinet, and bassoon, he fits the last one the best. He and Kix moan over making reeds and he’s on the quieter side. He just vibes and plays all the low notes and has fun whenever he’s got some moving part. I see Dogma as someone who is only casually into marching band. He uses Jesse’s old student clarinet as his instrument and he’s always on time, knows his sets, and his technique is on point. He always finds himself roped into his brothers’ shenanigans though.
Tup Fett: Tup plays the harp. I like to think he met Shaak Ti (we’ll get to her in a bit) when he was young, and she was playing with an orchestra. He met her backstage and she offered to give him lessons. Tup’s not really a part of high school orchestra but sometimes he’ll be brought in. He’s more involved with solo work and the youth orchestra more than anything. Tup’s another on where I don’t think he’d be into marching band. Though I can see him being in winter guard as the dude who just shows up and is lowkey rip and therefore is a hunk on the rifle. His technique’s good but they’ve never been able to saddle him into fall guard.
Hardcase Fett: (i’ve given up on remembering the birth names so i’m just gonna not) Hardcase is 100% low brass vibes. He can’t be anything but a low brass. I see him as a tuba player. He’s chill, laid back, but also reliable for being the foundation of the band sound. He plays the sousaphone in marching band and always blasts either Seven Nation Army or some other popular show tune right after rehearsals. Hardcase also can play the bari sax and no one knows when he learned how to.
OKAY we’re done with the Fett’s! Jango and Boba are in here somewhere but honestly I don’t have enough brainpower to come up with what their roles are. Jango’s gonna be a good dad though. Maybe he was a musician and that’s why most of his kids are going into music. Or maybe he’s just a supportive father. Boba’s the youngest though, that’s for sure. And he’s a little shit. Don’t know if he plays an instrument (probably) or what it might be.
Now lets get into some other characters! There’s a lot. And I wasn’t even halfway done with the characters I wanted to include. What the hell was I on last summer?
Padmé Amidala: Padmé is a flute player who quit after freshman year of high school and started taking music production and music theory classes. She loved it so much that she decided that composing was her jam. Now, she’s highly successful and often works with well known pianist, Anakin Skywalker, on piano concertos. Also, she may or may not be dating said pianists but you didn’t hear that from me.
Satine Kryze: twosetters don’t shit on me but Satine feels like she’d play the viola. She and Obi-Obi-Wan definitely dated in high school but after a year broke up on mutual terms and are just good friends now. A lot of people feel like she’d have been a better political science/international studies major than a music major but she’s good so no one complains (until she gets into a fighting match with someone and wins smugly)
Bo-Katan Kryze: shes Satine’s younger sister and is a mad athlete. She doesn’t play any instruments but she’s deeply active and is on scholarship for college, on the pre-med track with Kix. She’s very scary and most people are too intimidated by her to approach.
Plo Koon: I originally had him as an asian man, but I can see Native American as well. He plays the euphonium and he’s just a sweet man. He helps out a lot with private lessons at local high schools and is often brought in to help with low brass during marching band.
Wolffe Koon: Wolffe and Gregor (get to him in a bit) were both adopted by Plo when their parents died when they were very young. Plo was their godfather and he took them in like they were his own. They’re cousins to the Fett brothers (though don’t ask me how I have no idea). Wolffe is an engineer and works close to home.
Gregor Koon: Gregor is Wolffe’s younger brother and had a short stint of musical interest in middle school but quit after he entered high school. Gregor was in a serious car crash during college that left him amnesiac for a year before some of his memories returned. He now owns a restaurant and sticks close to home. Wolffe often comes around to check up on him because his brain injury still impacts his current life in small physical and emotional dips
Kit Fisto: Kit gives off mad trombone vibes and it’s mostly because he seems incredibly laid back. He’s one of those brass players who’s just a nice guy and while jokes around, never got pulled into jokes as a student.
Shaak Ti: like I said above, Shaak Ti is most definitely a harpist. She has that ethereal quality I think is common in harpists. She’s a tall Indian woman and she loves her job! She’s a private lesson teacher and instructor at the conservatory on top of her job in the orchestra since she’s not called in often to play. She loves all her students and gives good hugs.
Mace Windu: Mace is the director of the Jedi Symphony, the orchestra which almost everyone is involved with. He is a bass player and he likes his more classical pieces over contemporary music. He’s good friends with Yoda and sometimes the old troll has to wack some sense into Windu and have him take on newer pieces. Windu 100% gives off unhinged director vibes because mistakes and lazy musicians definitely don’t end after high school/college is over.
Quinlan Vos: this lil shithead definitely is the obnoxious, slightly arrogant, but kind of deserving of that, percussionist. He loves his snare drum and is also in the drumline. He’s the same age as Obi-Wan and the two are close friends. Quinlan is definitely slightly unhinged and is always at the back of the bus causing havoc after competitions. He’s the guy that I (OP) hate but also can’t help but respect cuz yeah he’s annoying but at least he’s good.
Aayla Secura: Aayla is Quinn’s half-sister, and plays the French horn. Again, like Cody, she’s got this air of professionalism that I associate with French horn players and like, we gotta represent the girls in brass somehow. She just fits it really nicely.
I feel like now is the time to list who’s still in conservatory and who isn’t: Obi-Wan, Anakin, Rex, Cody, Jesse, Quinlan, Padmé, and Satine are all recent graduates. Ahsoka, Aayla, Fives, Echo, Tup, Dogma, and Hardcase are still in conservatory (at varying years of course). Kix and Bo are entering med school/frantically applying and banging their heads cuz MCATs. Wolffe and Gregor are older and have been in the field for quite some time now. Plo, Kit, Shaak, and Mace are all faculty/seasoned professionals.
Somehow, I was gonna bring in The Skiratas (with proper research cuz I know very little about them), Dooku, Ventress, the Oppress siblings, rest of Domino Squad, Cut Lawquene, the other CCs, and more. I designated a page out of my sketchbook for this and my oh my the flow chart was hella confusing. How I thought I was gonna handle that in the summer before my first year of college, I have no idea. Maybe I’ll brainstorm more in the future but for now, this is all I have :]]]
Also excuse some of my slightly unhinged language I started writing this a few days ago while slightly unfocused and tired and stressed so my language is a product of that
#star wars#meta#musician au#my thoughts#I miss marching band so fucking much#I miss DCI#and WGI#miss the community#even if it was pretty stressful at times cuz drama#people love their drama in band#I don’t blame them you get sick of people after band camp#star wars au
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
PHANTASM BLUES • Suna Rintarou x Reader x Kita Shinsuke
Episode 1: Hidden Feelings
Type: TV Series (Multiple Chapters)
Cast: Suna Rintarou, Kita Shinsuke
Storyline: There was no good ending when your heart was bound to love more than one. And up until now, you still asked the universe why you have been given such curse.
Genre: Slice of Life, Drama
His intonation started to go up, little by little, "(Y/n), why?" From his usual calm voice, turned into a painful shout, "Fucking answer me!"
The ocean breeze touched your skin as you stood on the balcony, a phone in your hand while your face was painted with a gentle smile, never once leaving. The white sand and gentle waves could be seen from where you stood, engulfing you with the feeling of home.
You were just done calling all of your family and friends, telling them about the bachelorette party that would be held in two days. Yes, in a few days from now, you would finally become his forever, bear his last name until the end of time.
In just a few days, you would finally become a Suna.
Placing your phone in your pocket, you let out a satisfied sigh as your eyes looked at the sight in front of you. Here you were right now, on the beach house that you bought with your lovely fiancé, the safe haven that the two of you created.
Remembering your fiancé, these past few days had been hectic. The middle blocker went to practice a lot since he had a tournament in a few weeks, making you to be the one who had to take care of the wedding. It burdened you a little sometimes, when question after question was being thrown towards you at once.
Every time you asked for his opinion, he would just say things like, "I am alright with anything." And truth to be told, it was something that made you contemplate things even harder. Because by then, with every single decision that you made, you didn't know if that was what he really wanted.
But even with all of the uncertainty that he put you through, a complaint never once left your lips.
From the very first moment, you knew that to be with him would mean sacrificing a part of your sanity. He was an unpredictable man; sometimes he asked you to just cuddle with him, telling you that you were his personal source of energy. Other times he would just walk past you after practice as if he lived alone in the house.
And for you, it was a price that you were willing to pay.
It was late now, so you decided to go back inside, searching for your fiancé in the house that could be filled with hundreds of people.
"Rin?" You called out as you walked through the hallway, but the only thing that answered your call was silence, "My love?" Your feet strode towards the whole house, searching everywhere until you finally came back again to the bedroom that you two shared.
The room was empty, and the bed was still tucked nicely from where you arranged it this morning, meaning that he hadn't laid down on it. You scrunched up your nose, wondering where this man could be at this hour.
Your worry was answered by an exasperated sigh that you heard, coming from the walk-in closet. You let out a relieved sigh, knowing immediately where your fiancé was. It wasn't hard for you after all to realise that it was him, since you knew any kind of sound that he emit.
Nine years. You had known each other for nine years. You could never forget the first time you laid your eyes on his figure.
He was so enigmatic, such a beautiful human being. And by just given the chance to meet him, you felt like it was a gift from the deity.
The Kyudo tournament would be held in a few days, and that meant you didn't have time to slack off. Every day, you would come home late, practising your shoots at the school's arena. Even if you were the only one who decided to stay up late, you were alright with it.
Today was the same, you were the last person at the club. It was around spring right now, and the night was cold. You walked through the school ground that now looked deserted. Not a single soul could be seen.
While you walked, you decided to open up the canned drink that you bought from the vending machine. But as you looked in your bag, it was no longer there.
"Oh, come on!" You were frustrated, wanting to taste the beverage that you have been saving for a walk home, "I swear to God, why does this happen to me?" And the fact that the closest vending machine was the one located near the volleyball gymnasium (the opposite of your club), made you groan even more.
You walked mindlessly with a pout on your face. It was freezing right now as the wind touched your skin, making you tighten the embrace on your body. When you were finally near the gymnasium though, you were surprised by the sound that you heard from inside.
Curiosity overtook you as you walked closer to the gymnasium door, mind no longer filled with the canned drink. You peeked inside, and the sight that you saw took your breath away.
A couple of students from your year that you knew well (from your friends who could never shut up about their handsome appearance), were shouting and moving their body to follow the ball that aired on the sky. Four of them to be exact.
You have seen them play, a lot of times already. Something that you loved about your school was how supportive each student was towards each other. Every match, no matter what club it was, your school would send a horde of students to give some support.
They all looked so majestic, playing with a smile on their faces as if they were in a different world. Every squelch of sound from the shoes, every serve that they did, and every shout they roared towards each other, it made you feel alive.
But then your eyes caught his movement. One that flows like he knew too well where the ball would go to, one that was so different compared to the others. When the rest of the team moved to follow the ball, he was there, moving in rhythm with it as if they were dance partners.
His gaze was sharp as he positioned himself near the net, ready to block the attack that his opponent gave.
Then again, no matter how perfect a dance was after so many practices, some flaws would be made.
He let out a hiss when the ball hit his little finger. Miscalculated, you assumed. Once his foot touched the ground, he looked at his calloused hand like a broken finger was so common for him. Maybe it was though, with how his friends were all just asking him without any sense of panic lingered on their voice.
"Oi! We ran out of tape!" One of the infamous twins shouted from the bench, hands wrecking whatever was inside the first aid kit to get some tape. But when he could not find any, he walked back to the court where his friends stood, "Shit, Suna, should we get some from the market or something?"
"Of course we should, you idiot."
And just like that the worried atmosphere that engulfed the gymnasium for a second, turned into a full blown fight. The spiky haired outside hitter could only facepalm himself when the twins started to do their daily fight, as if he regretted joining the extra practice that the setter asked them to do.
While the three of them were busy with their own bickering, the one player that was injured could only sigh and sat on the bench. Suna Rintarou, if you were not mistaken, that was his full name. The middle blocker of your school's volleyball team.
He sat there in silence, looking at his hand as he wondered how he could let such a thing slip. Getting lost in his own mind, he didn't realise as you walked towards him and put tape on the bench beside him.
His hair looked so soft, dark brown strands that were still neat even after hours practising. Then you cleared your throat, making him turn his face towards you in an instant. His eyes looked straight into you, a questioning look filled his small green orbs.
Only when you were that close to him did you realise how beautiful this human being in front of you. Your friends never shut up about the twins, yet rarely talked about the gem called Suna Rintarou.
You shot him a look before he could even ask who you were, reassuring him that everything would be alright as you held out your hand, asking for his injured hand.
"Give me your hand, I know what to do."
You walked towards the walk-in closet to check up on your fiancé. With every step that you took, the long sigh that he emitted sounded louder. It made you raise one of your eyebrows as he secluded himself like this.
He was fine this evening when he got back from the practice. The second you opened up the door he engulfed you in this tight hug, saying that he was tired and needed your company to recharge his stamina. So to know that he hid himself like this all of a sudden made your heartstrings tug with worry.
The door creaked a little as you opened it up and stepped inside the closet. The air was cold, and it felt like misery jammed the whole room with the air conditioner sending a shiver running down your spine. So cold that you subconsciously put your hand on your arms, trying to warm yourself.
Your eyes finally fell to the man that you swore you would love forever. There, sitting on the couch that was placed in the middle of the room, he had his back against you. He just looked up to the ceiling, staring into space as he was lost in his own thoughts.
"Rin," You walked up to him with a gentle pace, trying to make sure that you were not invading his privacy, "Why are you here, love? What happened?" His face looked a lot paler right now, green orbs that were usually filled with love and warmth were now only coated with glistening tears that seemed to stick on his orbs.
"Nothing." He looked up at you, swallowing a huge lump, "I am fine." With how long you have known him, you knew that he tried to hide things from you.
He was not someone that really loved to talk about things that bother him. When he had a problem, he just asked you to stay with him, nothing more, not even a word of explanation about why he became so gloomy.
You once asked about why he didn't like to share his burden with you, and his answer was actually simple — because he didn't want you to be worried about whatever was creeping his mind.
"You are not fine." So you always tried to divulge him that you were alright with that, "You wouldn't tremble like this if everything was fine." You were alright with him sharing the burden in his head, and you showed him by putting your hand on top of his, warming his cold skin with your heat.
"Nothing. It's just—" You peered into his face, thumb gently grazed the back of his hand, "I am upset when I know that we ran out of chuupet."
You got a little bit taken aback by his words, you blinked several times until the information finally absorbed into your mind. That was it? The reason behind him looking like someone just ripped his heart apart was just because he ran out of his favourite food?
The statement sure made you chuckle, he could be childish sometimes even as a twenty five year old.
"Goodness, Rin. Why don't you ask me?" You gave him a gentle peck on the lips before resting your palm on his cheek, snickering to know the reason behind his solemn look, "I always stock some in the pantry. Want me to get it for you?"
He nodded softly, afraid that him acting like this made you feel annoyed. But you were the one who volunteered yourself, and even if he was already an adult that could do things by himself, you couldn't help but like to satiate him with some little affection.
"Alright, wait a minute, okay?" You gave him your usual gentle smile before standing up. He nodded and sat down, continued to stare into space just like what he did when you first saw him. It made you frown a little as you walked out to grab some of his late night snacks.
"(Y/n)," Before you could close the door and turn around to face him, he suddenly appeared beside you and engulfed your torso with his, so tight that it was hard to breathe.
You wanted to tell him that the force was too much, asking him to ease the hug a little.
But you couldn't as your body felt how he was trembling by now. Your eyes widened, rushing your arms to wrap around him. It was so sudden, and the way he acted right now made your heart break into million little pieces.
This was the reason why you wanted him to share the burden with you, the sole reason why you wanted him to tell you all the things that were bothering his mind. Because he could be like this from time to time, acting like everything was fine while actually he was stressed to search for a way out.
"Please don't leave me," His voice cracked as he blurted out the words, "I love you, please don't leave me." He was someone who rarely said please. Always thinking that he sounded so desperate every time he said that (no matter how many times you told him it was a word of manners).
Then again, he was so desperate to make you stay, even if he knew that you wouldn't leave him.
"I would never leave you, Rin." You whispered softly, searching for his face, urging him to look at you, "I love you, you know that?"
"I know," He knew, he knew that you loved him, so much that even after all these years, you ended up choosing him, "And I love you," With all of my heart.
He started to relax after you pampered him with soft kisses and spoke with your gentle voice, kept saying things about how you would stay with him, as long as he wanted you to.
"Go wash yourself, then we can relax on the bed with a pack of chuupet, how about that?" You gazed at him with so much love that you always offered to him.
"Alright, no rush to get it then." He rested his forehead on yours, cupping your cheeks with his calloused hand. His green orbs looked so beautiful under the dim light, and it was the last thing you saw before he crashed his lips on yours.
The kiss was passionate, tingling your soul as he pushed you to the nearest wall, demanding as much affection as he could get. You whimpered when his tongue nipped on your bottom lip, and there was nothing else that you could do except parting your lips to let him in.
It was always like this. Every time he was at the breaking point, he would relieve it by releasing his lust. And you? You would succumb to his need until the sun greeted the two of you on the horizon.
But then he pulled away, turning his back on you as he escaped himself to the walk-in closet. You were too dumbstruck, everything was moving a little bit too fast to your liking. He was just there right in front of you, yet the next second he suddenly left you breathless; in a way that felt suffocating.
What he kept doing to you was not good for your heart — yet you stayed anyway.
You let out a long sigh, fingers fiddled with the ring that he gave you one sunny day. You and him, on top of the couch. Just a simple, "Marry me?" but the burst of feelings in your heart that day notifying you that it was all enough. It was all enough because it was him who said those words.
"Fuck," You slapped your own cheeks to bring you back to reality. Maybe the problem he had was just too much. Reminding yourself that he was probably stressed due to his own dispute, you decided to walk downstairs.
Silence consumed the entire space as your feet touched the ground floor. The breeze from the ocean waves slipped from the windows that you let open, made you feel like you were outside while you were standing inside.
You hummed softly, fingers tracing the kitchen islands as you brought yourself to the pantry. Unlocking the door, you pushed it open and went inside, eyes immediately scanning the neat shelves that were filled with snacks and ingredients.
"Where is it..." Muttering under your breath, you crouched down to open up some of the boxes, mind lingering to the previous events.
It was not like him to be like that. When he was stressed, his eyes would look tired or maybe annoyed. But when you recall the memories just now, the only thing that you could see from his green orbs were just pain. And it made you purse your lips, making you feel helpless.
Click!
You jerked your head to the door, raising one of your eyebrows when you heard something come from there. Abandoning the task that you had, you stood up and grip the handle, trying to open up the door. Once, twice, it was stuck, you tried to pull it with some force but it was no use.
"Rintarou!" Calling out for your fiancé, you were hoping that he would come down to search you. You were frantic by now, hands could not stop pushing the handle down, wishing for some miracle that maybe it would be opened.
But after a few attempts that you did, it didn't change the fact that you were locked inside the pantry, in the middle of the night. Though, your mind lingered with hope, since you were sure that your fiancé would search for you. Maybe it will take a few minutes, but he will-
"(Y/n)," You heard his voice from the other side of the door, feeling at ease because he found you in a split second, "I am so sorry," Yet the smile of relief that you had disappeared completely when you heard the tone of his voice.
"Rinrin?" Right now as you heard his melancholy voice, the only thing that you could think of was how to lift his spirit up, "What is it, love?" Your hand unconsciously trying to open up the door once again, "Rin, can you open the door?"
Sweats started to prickle on your skin, worried for yourself, and worried for whatever was lurking inside his mind at the moment. You wanted to see him, engulf him into a bear hug to calm him down. His voice filled with misery as he muttered your name before.
"Can we talk first?" You stopped trying to open the door by now, letting your hands fall to your side, "It will be quick, I just want to know something."
Your lips were dry from the cold atmosphere that consumed you. You wanted to beg for him to open up the door and talk whatever he needed to. But you were afraid that he wouldn't talk to you at all once his eyes met with yours.
"Alright, just tell me, Rin."
"Answer everything truthfully."
"Of course."
Silence filled the air once again as you stood there, waiting for him to emit words. You wonder what he was doing on the other side, wondering what kind of expression that displayed on his face.
"Kita-san." The name rolled down from his lips like a poison, as if the man who bore that name was bad news, "You remember him, right?" His voice sounded scarily calm, like he was so done by just mentioning that one person who was before everything — constantly became the hot topic that he never got tired of talking about.
And here you were right now, completely at loss. You were stunned, didn't know why the name that you let go a few years ago, started to crawl back in front of your eyes.
Just a few days, before you say I do.
"Of course I remember," You said softly, trying to arrange the right words, "He was your captain in high school, someone that you really admire, someone that—"
"—you really love."
He finished your sentence, as if it was the exact same words that you were going to say. You parted your lips, wanting to say that it was not what you meant, wanting to explain to him that he was wrong.
But every denial that you were trying to say, stuck in your mouth as if you were put in silent mode.
You swallowed a huge lump, easing the dryness that you felt as you tried to calm yourself down.
"Why did you ask me that, Rin?"
He knew too well about the relationship that you had before. The first ever relationship that everyone was always envious about. Your relationship with someone that he really respected and admired.
The love that you shared with the light grey haired man was something that everyone could call as pure love. The two of you were always there for each other without once falling apart, like a love story that one found in a children's book.
Your past relationship had been something that everyone wanted to have. There were never any fights, not even a day filled with rage. The two of you would always find a way out from your problem together, something that was rare to find in this world.
And then there was him, Suna Rintarou, the man who had your heart since the first time you saw him in your second year of high school. All of the students thought that you were always dating the middle blocker. But one thing that they didn't know, was the fact Suna always became a coward when it comes to your love.
"You didn't even try to deny that," He chuckled bitterly, and you could hear a thud on the door, making you know that he probably bumped his head on the hard surface, "It was never me anyways, I suppose."
When he received the call that day while he was away, he should have ended everything right there. He should not have continued the ritual that the two of you shared. Maybe, maybe if from the very first start he knew that you were in love with his old captain, he would not let his feelings for you grow even more.
After all, he had no right to stop you from falling in love with someone new. Someone that, on paper, was perfect, someone that would never make you feel sorrow, someone that Suna knew so well would suit you — even better than him.
And maybe he shouldn't have pushed himself too much, stretched his chance to have someone who would love him. To ask you, to be his. Begging for you to stay in his life instead with the man who would never treat you any less.
A selfish plea of him that he didn't know would shatter three souls.
"Rin, what do you mean?" You didn't know why the name was brought up in front of your face once again. Both of you knew that you already closed that chapter of life a long time ago, "What do you mean by that?"
But have you really closed that chapter already?
"You called his name in your sleep," His voice cracked as he remembered how you were fast asleep peacefully, "You called Kita-san last night." And the name that rolled down from your lips, "Why was it not my name? Why was it his name?"
His intonation started to go up, little by little, "(Y/n), why?" From his usual calm voice, turned into a painful shout, "Fucking answer me!"
"I still love him,"
"What?"
The disbelief could be heard from his voice. He knew that deep down, the only woman that he ever loved was never moving on from the past. But that doesn't mean hearing it right from your lips didn't hurt more than it was supposed to.
You answered him with the lowest tone that you could reach. There was no use for you to lie in front of your fiancé. You knew him like the back of your hand, so did he as he knew everything about you, even sometimes when you didn't even know yourself.
"You asked for it," Guilt and shame could be heard from how you spoke up the words, "From how you asked me like that, Rin, I know that you knew."
But he wanted you to lie. He wanted you to answer that you were thinking about some old memories, and just that. Not about your real feelings, he didn't want to know that. He knew everything along the way, about what you buried inside your heart.
He didn't need you to say yes to the fact that he was not the only one you loved.
"Then why?" He gulped down, clenching his hand into a fist as he stared at the hardwood door, wanting you to feel the pain that he felt, "Why were you stringing me along these past years?"
"Oh so now you're blaming it on me?" Shut the fuck up! "You were the one who begged for me to come back, Rin! Don't think you have the right to insult me like that!" Shut up, goddamnit!
You clapped a hand to cover your mouth, didn't believe in yourself from saying such spiteful words towards him, "Rin, I—"
"I'm sorry, love."
"No, no, I am sorry for—"
"I should have never come back."
He grabbed a duffel bag that was laying beside him. When he prepared some stuff in the closet this evening, he thought that he would not have to use it. Hoping that tomorrow morning, he would unpack it like nothing happened.
But right now, he realised that his relationship that he had with you had a countdown from the start. And he could not stretch it too much, no matter how many times he wanted to put a blind eye over this.
"Rin, let's talk." You hiccuped as tears started to run down your face, "Love, please open the door. I am sorry for never coming clean about this."
This was what you were always afraid of since you crossed paths with the gentle senior in college. This was what haunted you since you fell in love with someone else, yet never once falling out of love with the first man.
This was your nightmare, you faced it once, and you have to face it again. Only this time it was with Suna Rintarou.
"It was no use, (Y/n)." He took a step backwards, "We need to take a break from each other."
"No, Rin! Open the goddamn door!" You banged your fist into the oak wood surface that didn't even budge, "Rintarou, please... Just open the door."
He was just staring into the door, the one where you were standing on the other side. Debating what he should do next.
To have you in his life, even for just a moment, was a blessing to him. So maybe, two years having you in his arms was enough. Maybe, his time to be with you was already up — and it was time for him to be the one who let you go.
"I love you, you know that?" He whispered those three magic words like it was the last time he would ever say that to you, making your breath hitched "I promise I only love you."
That was the last words that you heard from him before silence engulfed you once again.
"Rin?" You called him out, in hope that maybe he was still standing in front of the door, "Rin!" But you couldn't hear anything. It was all too quiet, you couldn't believe that he left you here with the door locked.
The next thing that filled your eardrums was the start of an engine car, and you never felt as desperate as this while your mind frantic to search for a way out. Your orbs looked through all the things inside the pantry, and you lit up immediately when your gaze fell on the toolbox at the corner of the room.
With incredible speed, you opened it up and found a hammer there. This could do, with force, you tried to tear down the handle with it.
Tears blurred your line of vision as you realised what it meant for the two of you. Suna was stubborn, if he really did not want to meet someone, he could really disappear from their radar. And you didn't want to be the one he avoided in his life.
After a few attempts to annihilate the lock, it finally crashed down. With as much power as you could gather, you kicked the door from its place and ran as fast as you could towards the terrace.
No, you had sacrificed a lot of things to be here with him. You chose him, you wanted to be with him. You would not let something that you had let go all those years ago jeopardize the relationship that could last until the end of time.
But as your bare feet met with the white sand in front of the house, there was no trace of him anymore.
Just like that, he left you to stand alone in the dark driveway.
For years you have tried so hard to never show him that you were still in love with another man. You understood well that you were the one who was at fault. It was something forbidden to exist in this world, to have romantic feelings for two different people.
Two people that apparently, always thought highly of each other.
It was a rare thing to happen in this universe. To love two people equally, to want them in your life forever without letting the other one go.
But in the end, society would ask you to choose.
And you chose Suna Rintarou as your endgame. Because deep down, everyone could know that he would be broken without someone anchoring his life. He knew, that with you, Suna could be the best version of himself.
Your breath began to get heavier as the realization dawned on you. He left, Suna had left you. He let you go, just like the other man had done so you could be with him instead.
You were not prepared to feel this again, you never thought you would have to endure the loss again, the same agonizing pain that you once felt.
He wouldn't be too far, right? Something clicked inside your mind as you still refused to believe that this is it. With a hurried pace, you ran back inside the house as you wanted to grab your car keys.
In a hurry, you stumbled on the wooden rung that was installed on the terrace, making you fall forward. And in reflex, you tried to grab the banister beside you.
But you were not fast enough.
Your head hit the ground with a loud thud. And in a second, your mind was detached from the rest of the world. All you could concentrate on was the pain rooted deep inside your head. The pain that felt like someone had taken a knife to your skull, multiplying the pain that your heart felt before.
It was all blurred as you tried to keep your eyes open. Everything became fuzzy as darkness started to engulf your vision. Your consciousness was floating through an empty space — filled with a thick static.
It was all too much, the pain that was fresh inside your heart was enough to make you want to just leave this world. All the guilt, all the heartbreak, you never wanted this curse, you would have never wanted to feel what love would be if the outcome was nothing but nightmare.
To love more than one person in your life.
To be given such things while you never asked for it.
To live knowing that your existence only brought doom.
You didn't want that, never wanted to be such a catastrophe for two people that you knew didn't deserve to feel this way. To love someone, only for her wanting the other to stay.
The last thing that you remembered before your eyes closed was a red liquid and the metallic smell that filled your sense. At the very end, all you could see was just black.
And if it became the last thing that you ever saw in life, then may it be.
Because maybe, they could live a better life without you.
Previous ⤟ MAIN MENU ⤠ Next Up
Want to get tagged? Do reply on the main menu or send ask if you want to be added for every updates and fic! Thank you for all of your enthusiasm!
#haikyuu angst#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu#suna rintarou x reader#kita shinsuke x reader#suna rintarou imagine#kita shinsuke imagine#suna x reader#kita x reader#suna rintarou#kita shinsuke#rintarou suna#shinsuke kita#suna rintarou angst#suna rintarou fluff#kita shinsuke angst#kita shinsuke fluff
241 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Well-Known Fact
Word Count: 8610
Warnings: Janus kinda freaks out when Roman gets mad, but... I think that’s about it? It’s sorta described as a panic attack so. Look out for that.
So, um, this was just an excuse to write Janus-centric fluff, umm.... enjoy?
———————————————————————————————————
A well-known fact about Janus: he is cold-blooded. Or, at least, he thought it was well-known. Remus has known for quite some time, and he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. And whenever Janus was around the others in the Mindscape, he was always somewhere warm, be it under a blanket, by a fire, or near warmed up electronics.
He hadn’t considered that even the most observant of them would fail to observe this.
So now, here he was, trying to figure out how to explain it while Patton kept grabbing his hands, trying to warm them up.
“It really isn't a big deal, Patton. This is just the way I function.”
Patton frowned.
“Sorry kiddo, but no. Virgil runs cold, and he’s warmer than you. Have you been in the Imagination? Are you feeling okay?”
Janus sighed as Patton led him to the couch and threw a blanket over him.
“Yes, I have, and yes, I’m feeling fine. I’m not joking, this is literally how I function.”
Patton huffed.
“You are aware I’m cold-blooded, right?” Janus waved away the hot cocoa the other had made.
“I- what? What do you mean?”
Janus really didn’t want to have to explain this. In all honesty, it was a little embarrassing. He could handle the frightened glances at his scales and his eye, and his forked tongue and his lisp. They were part of his snakelike appearance, and he could easily shapeshift them away if he wanted to.
But his cold-bloodedness? That was something that he couldn’t change, that proved he was inhuman.
And of course it had to be Patton Dad Popstar Morality Sanders that he was explaining it to. He had nothing against Patton, however he was aware of the moral side’s squeamishness. Not only was he morality, but he was also Thomas’ emotions. And Janus was almost certain that the side that had screamed at cartoon spiders would find his inhumanity disturbing, or at the very least frightening.
“I don’t function the same as you, and the others. My body can’t regulate my temperature. I was in the Imagination today, and Roman and Remus tend to keep it cold and rainy during fall, so it makes sense that I’d be a little colder than usual.”
Patton didn’t seem frightened, just… startled.
“How does that work? We’re not real. Well, of course we’re real but… we don’t have like… physical bodies? So how do you get all cold n’ stuff?”
Janus shrugged.
“I don’t know. Just happens. I’ve gotten used to it after all these years. As long as I go under my heat lamp for a while every day during the fall and winter, I’m fine.”
Patron huffed.
“Well, that’s no good! You can’t be locked up in your room all the time just ‘cause you’re chilly!” Patton threw another throw blanket over him.
“When Roman gets back I’ll ask him to put a lamp in here, if that’s okay.” He smiled widely.
“Uh- yeah, um that’s-that’s fine.” Janus accepted the cocoa and snuggled into the blankets.
That had gone… well. Too well. Was he just pretending? Patton didn’t like lying, he knew that, but he’d seen him repress several times, so hiding discomfort was a strength of his.
Janus eyed him warily.
“You’re not… upset?”
Patton’s eyes widened.
“Oh, Jam, did you not tell me ‘cause you thought I’d be weird about it? Of course I’m not upset! When Virgil started hanging out with us we had to make a few adjustments to make him more comfy, and we’re more than willing to do the same for you!” Patton gripped one of Janus’ hands in his own, rubbing the back with his thumb.
“Oh. Uh, thanks.”
Patton grinned.
“Of course, kiddo! I was gonna make some cookies, do you wanna help decorate them once you’ve warmed up some?”
Janus felt a ‘no’ at the tip of his tongue, but then Patton looked up at him with his signature puppy eyes, and Janus couldn’t have said no if he’d tried.
“Yes, I’d love that.”
Patton squealed.
“Alrighty! I’ll go get them started then! Lemme know if you need anything!” He bounced up from the couch, planting a kiss on Janus’ head before skipping into the kitchen.
The next person he told was Roman. He’d been expecting it, as a request for a heat lamp would probably seem pretty odd.
Roman had come into the commons while Janus had been basking. Which, in all honesty, just meant he was lying under the heat lamp and playing on his phone while Patton cooked dinner. The prince had walked right over, sat beside him, and stayed there for a few minutes.
“Okay, I don’t get it.”
Janus rolled his eyes.
“Don’t get what?”
“Why you wanted this put in? It’s not really that great. Actually, it’s a little uncomfortable.” Roman moved to sit on the couch.
“What does it matter to you?” Janus hissed.
God damnit Patton was looking at him all disappointedly.
“Kiddo..”
Ughhhh not with that voice, he can’t do that, that’s unfair.
“Imcldbldd”
“What?”
“I’m cold blooded.”
Roman froze for a second.
“What the fuck, Jan?”
Patton kept a close eye on the two, sending a worried glance in Janus’ direction.
“It’s totally my fault, I obviously chose to be Deceit.”
“No, fuck, not like… I meant that I’ve literally dragged you into the cold, rainy imagination for adventures and you didn’t fucking say anything?” Roman looked furious.
Janus’ eyes widened. That’s what he was upset about? Not the fact that Janus, a master of deception and an embodiment of lies was literally cold blooded, but the fact that he’d never complained about it?
“Oh, please do act like you wouldn’t have flipped out if I’d told you before all of… this.”
Janus curled in on himself a little more.
“Before the Melding? Yeah. But it’s been cold out for weeks. And you’ve been into the Imagination like… every few days, and that’s just with me! I have no clue how many times Remus has dragged you out there!” Roman was back beside Janus again, and holy shit was he angry, he’s angry, hurt, he might hurt you-
Patton.
“Hey, Roman, kiddo, can you come help me over here?” Janus mimicked Patton’s voice, and placed in just right so it would bounce off the walls correctly.
Roman got up, his eyes still filled with fire.
“We are not done talking about this. As soon as I’m done helping him, I’m coming right back here.”
Janus took the chance to sink into his room and lock the door. Now that he’d slowed down, thought it through a bit, he regretted it. But… he was self-preservation. As good as Virgil was at keeping Thomas out of dangerous situations, Janus would always have a little bit of that fight or flight response built into him. He didn’t cause it, but, clearly, he responded to it, whether he liked it or not.
Knocking, now there was knocking at the door. He took a deep breath. Roman wouldn’t hurt him. He was safe around Roman.
He opened the door, and Roman pushed past him, sitting on his bed. Janus slowly moved to sit across from him.
“Okay, one, was there any particular reason you rushed out?” Roman looked concerned, now, but still so mad.
“You just… scared me.” Ugh, what was he doing?
It had been a rhetorical question, this was stupid. He was supposed to keep feelings like these ones hidden. It was what he’d decided on ages ago. What was he doing?
“I.. okay, one sec. No. I am not mad at you for being cold blooded. I am upset that you didn’t tell me before I brought you into situations that could’ve hurt you.” Roman set his hands on Janus’s arms, lightly rubbing them with his thumbs.
“It’s not life-threatening. Nor is it threatening at all. I just get a little… uncomfortable.”
Roman looked crestfallen.
“Jan, you of all sides should know that your safety and comfort is, and always will be more important than whatever adventure I go on, or whatever story I tell. I need you to tell me if something could put your health, physical or mental, at risk, okay?”
Janus felt like he was going to cry. Which was strange, as he hadn’t cried since they were little. He nodded softly, the lump in his throat stopping any words he might have said.
“C’mere,” Roman pulled him into a hug.
He squeezed tightly before pulling back, wiping a tear from Janus’ face.
“Roman, Janus! Dinner’s ready!” Patton called.
Roman lifted an eyebrow at Janus, to which he let out a small laugh and shook his head. Roman grinned, then stood up and offered Janus his hand.
“Thank you.” The words were thick and dripping with way more meaning than was required for a hand up, but, well…
It looked like Roman understood.
Next was Logan.
Logan had approached him and asked if it would be okay if he asked Janus a few questions. As much as Janus didn’t want the others dabbling in his business, Logan had seemed so excited, which was a rare occurrence as of lately. So he let himself be lead into Logan’s room, sitting on his bed as Logan took a seat at his desk.
“So, it has come to my attention that you are ectothermic?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I believe Roman used the term cold-blooded?” Logan grabbed a lemon yellow notebook from a drawer, along with a pen.
“Mm. Yes, that I am.”
Logan flipped the book open and began writing.
“Fascinating! It had not occurred to me that this was even possible, what with us being projections of light while being on the physical realm. Does it affect you while in the physical realm and the mental realm?” Logan’s eyes sparkled.
“Yes, and it carries over between the realms.” Janus supposed he should feel like Logan was invading but… something about Logan’s analytic speech patterns made it seem less invasive.
“Mm… and I believe Roman also mentioned the Imagination affecting you more than our rooms and commons?”
“No, it’s not that the Imagination affects me more, it’s that right now the twins have made a point of keeping the Imagination cold for fall.” Janus couldn’t help it if his voice turned a little bit exasperated.
“Ah, yes, that would make much more sense. Have you any idea why you’re ectothermic?” Logan continued carefully writing in his notebook.
“Remus said at one point it might be due to my animal being a snake, but I don’t think that’s it. The scales and tongue are simply my appearance.” Janus fidgeted with his gloves.
“So you cannot shapeshift it away?”
“Mm, no. I must say it is incredibly irritating impersonating you, or Patton for that matter. Your short sleeves are horribly uncomfortable.” He smirked, moving so he was sitting criss cross on the bed.
“Well, it is incredibly irritating being impersonated, so perhaps it makes up for itself.” Logan glared at Janus for a moment, and he returned it.
Janus started softly laughing.
“Don’t laugh over my intimidating glare, it makes it seem insincere.” Logan’s voice kept an edge, but his eyes were smiling.
“Of course, Oppy, I would never even think of it.” Janus purred.
“Oppy? As in, the Opportunity rover?” Logan raised an eyebrow at Janus.
“Yes, I heard you had quite an attachment to her.” Janus smiled.
“I- um, yes, I suppose I did enjoy gathering information on the rover. The team that worked on her-it- had some interesting experiences during its mission. It supposedly lasted 50 times longer than they expected it to, and-“ Logan paused.
“I apologize, that was not your reason for being here. I will refrain from… rambling.”
Janus frowned a little.
“I wouldn’t mind veering off topic. Besides, it’s not like I’ve got anything else to do.”
Logan paused, his face blank, as if he was rebooting.
“I… okay. May I ask another question?” Logan tapped his pen against his notebook.
Janus gestured for him to continue.
“While I do enjoy the topic of the Mars rovers, I am a little confused as to what resemblance you see between them and myself.”
Janus smiled.
“Well, for one thing, robots are your thing. I may not have been present during Thomas’ puppet fiasco, but I did catch wind that you changed your appearance to match a robot rather than a puppet.”
“Oh, it was a puppet. I had not had enough time to plan and create a robotic body for myself, so it was merely a puppet shaped like a robot.”
“Yes, yes, of course. But besides that, you do remind me of those excitable lab robots who are simultaneously amazingly intelligent, kind, and assholes.”
That startled a laugh out of Logan, to which Janus held back a grin.
“Ah, thank you, I’ll make sure to write that down.” Logan bit back a smile, closing his notebook and placing his pen in its holder.
“If you… wanted to, I would not object to learning more about the Mars rovers.” Janus coaxed Logan a little, smiling when he saw his eyes light up.
“Oh! Yes, of course! The Mars rovers, affectionately nicknamed the “Adventure twins,” Spirit and Opportunity, landed on Mars on January 3rd and 24th, 2004 on a 90-day long mission, but they both lived well beyond that time. Opportunity, specifically, spent 15 years on Mars, collecting data that has proved that Mars could have sustained microbial life.” Logan tapped his hands on his legs as he spoke.
Janus asked questions every now and again, and Logan answered with a small smile and a light in his eyes. It was great to see Logan ramble without caution, much like when they were kids.
When Logan had finished, he seemed to be in an even better mood than before. His hands continued tapping, and Janus could see him fighting back a smile.
“While I have you here, Janus,” Logan glanced to the side for a moment, then nodded his head and continued, “Patton and Roman wanted me to ask you if you would accompany us at “family movie night” this Friday. Do not feel inclined to participate, I understand if it would be too much, as you are not one for social events, but if you would like to come, the invitation is there.” He bit his lip gently as he ended, glancing up at Janus.
“While I would love to, I’m not sure everyone would be as comfortable as they would prefer to be if I were there.” Janus’ tone held a pinch of remorse.
“If you are referring to Virgil, we talked to him beforehand and he stated that he would not be opposed to you joining us.” Logan seemed to be bargaining in some small way.
Janus nearly laughed.
“I’ll consider it, then.” He stood up and smiled at Logan and watched as the teacher startled, turning away a bit.
“Yes, that is… satisfactory.”
“And Logan, do-“ Janus’ voice abruptly cut out.
“Janus? Are you alright?” Logan leapt to his feet, placing a hand on Janus’ arm.
“Ye-“ It didn’t hurt, oddly enough.
He just couldn’t speak? Realization flooded Logan’s eyes, and he led Janus out of his room and into the commons, sitting them down on the couch.
“Are you alright now? It seems my room began to cut off your… backwards speaking. As well as lying.” Logan kept his hands on Janus’ elbows.
“I’m fine.” Janus smirked as Logan’s eyes narrowed.
“Communicate a falsehood, please.”
“My my Logan, whatever has drawn you to the dark side?” Logan rolled his eyes affectionately at Janus’ teasing.
“Janus.”
“Fine. Mmm… You enjoy nearly all jelly brands, other than Crofter’s.” Logan levelled him with a glare, causing Janus to cackle.
“Why must you hurt me like this?” Logan asked, his face completely devoid of emotion.
Janus' laugh rang loud and clear, and Logan grinned, for just a moment. He let his hands move to Janus’, squeezing them gently.
“You must be more careful in the future; spending too long in my room could permanently alter your function.”
Janus lifted Logan’s hands to his mouth, kissing them gently.
“Don’t worry your pretty head about it, sweet Logic. I’m fine.”
Logan went pink, breaking eye contact with Janus.
“Well, caution will do no harm to anyone. Please tell me if you begin feeling different while in my room, okay? You would do the same in Patton or Virgil’s, would you not?”
“Of course. I’ll tell you in the future, promise.” Janus rubbed his thumbs over Logan’s hands.
Logan threw him one last glance, then sighed and nodded. He pulled his hands away, adjusting his glasses.
“I should return to my work. Thomas has a brainstorming session with Joan soon that I must prepare for.” Logan stood up, adjusting his tie.
“Have you bored of my company?” Janus smirked.
“Oh, shush,” Logan smiled back, pressing a soft kiss to Janus’ cheek. “I’ll see you at dinner tonight.”
Janus let out some sort of squeak which Logan seemed to take as affirmation, as he returned to his room.
He should probably have felt a little irritated that Logan would do that and then run off but… when he blushed pretty like that? Janus couldn’t find it in himself to care.
Virgil had already known. Janus had told him long before the Melding, way back when Virgil had still ID’d as a “Dark Side.” He’d actually been the first person Janus had told.
They’d been about twelve, when Virgil had only been around for a short while. He’d walked into Janus’ room during one of Janus’ cold spells, when he’d had several blankets piled on him, and was shaking like a jackhammer.
Virgil had run in, asking what was wrong. Janus had, begrudgingly, explained what had happened, and Virgil had gone quiet. He’d lifted the blankets, sitting beside Janus and cuddling him as he warmed up. He’d been the one to suggest the heat lamp, and Janus would forever be in his debt for it.
Now, Janus sat on the floor with a heavy blanket draped over him as they watched Hercules. The four lovebirds were cuddling on the couch, Roman loudly belting out I Will Go the Distance. Patton was giggling, singing along to the parts he knew as Logan and Virgil watched on with endearment.
Janus couldn’t help but feel like a fifth wheel. Remus had decided not to join them that night, so Janus felt a bit invasive. Virgil continuously glanced over at him, as if ensuring that Janus wouldn’t ruin anything. The others also kept looking over to Janus, though it was decidedly for different reasons.
Patton seemed nervous, and Roman was trying to convince Janus to sing with him. Logan just seemed fond.
Janus tried his best to keep his attention on the movie, but it was hard when he continuously caught them looking at him out of the corner of his eye. At one point, Patton had gotten up to refill their popcorn, and had run a hand through Janus’ hair as he passed. Janus tried not to lean into it too obviously, but he’d practically purred at the gesture.
Virgil had glanced over to him, and Janus had caught his eye. He… he didn’t seem mad, or even upset. Just… nervous. It was the same way he looked before Thomas performed, or asked a cute boy out.
Janus and Virgil had at least been on talking terms for a while, so… what was that about?
The movie finished, and they voted on the next movie. Roman tried to rig the vote for Moana, but Janus immediately caught it and reversed the rig so it would favour Big Hero 6, Logan’s requested movie. Roman picked the paper from Janus’ hat and gawked as Janus snickered to himself on the floor. Virgil and Logan helped Roman move on from his mourning as Patton giggled and raised an eyebrow at Janus.
Janus shrugged, his signature gesture for “Yeah, I fucked with it, what can ya do?”
About halfway through the movie, Janus began to grow cold. As he noticed his shivering, he placed a gentle mirage over himself so the others wouldn’t notice. It wasn’t to the point where he was in any danger, barely any discomfort, and the movie would be over soon, so he could just leave his heat lamp on as he slept. Virgil frowned at him, and Janus froze.
There was no way he could see through the mirage. Janus had been very careful while placing it. Virgil, especially, shouldn’t have noticed it. As anxiety, mirages worked quite well on him.
“Hey. You’re cold. Come here.” Virgil spoke softly, but sternly.
Janus huffed.
“I’m fine. I simply forgot to bask earlier. I’ll survive until the movie’s done, I assure you.” Janus hugged his blanket a little closer.
“Don’t care. C’mere.”
Janus warily eyed Virgil, who moved over on the couch to make room for Janus between himself and Patton. He carefully made his way over, sitting down between the two of them and doing his best not to touch either of them too much. His efforts were immediately negated, as Patton cuddled up next to him as soon as he sat down.
He had to admit, it was very nice to be cuddling someone again. Especially Patton, who ran the warmest out of all of them.
Virgil also leaned into him, resting his head on Janus’ shoulder and turning his attention back to the movie. Janus slowly felt himself warming up as he grew more comfortable in the cuddle pile. Roman leaned over and took one of his hands, rubbing it with his thumb.
Janus felt like he was about to melt. Not literally, of course. He was quite comfortable in his position. No, he was going to melt as in there were so many warm, fuzzy feelings welled up inside him that he was sure they would start oozing out of him if he weren’t careful.
Virgil’s hands slipped around Janus’ waist, pulling him somehow even closer. Roman sighed happily as Virgil began softly purring, his eyes closed. The movie was nearly forgotten by all except Logan, who was completely fixated on it, muttering to himself quietly.
“What’re you thinking, Specs?”
Logan blinked, turning to Roman as he processed the question.
“My apologies, I didn't mean to interrupt the movie.”
“Mm, nope. No apologizing. What’s up?” Virgil blinked open an eye, glancing at Logan.
“I was merely wondering the logistics of the microbots in this movie. We have already achieved a high level of synchronization with drones, so creating a smaller version of said drones would not be incredibly difficult.
“The only problem I could see with them is the almost telepathic connection to them, though we have nearly created a program that can process and recreate images from the brain. So these bots are almost achievable right now.”
Roman whistled.
“Damn, wouldn’t that be cool? I mean there’s obviously the whole construction use, but imagine the special effects!” Roman grinned at Logan.
“I suppose that would be an adequate use for them. I imagine waves and particle effects would be much more easy to create with the bots.”
The two began bouncing ideas off of each other, debating the uses of microbots as Janus, Virgil and Patton watched on with fondness.
Virgil sighed happily. Janus fought the urge to kiss his forehead, and, wow, that’s back, that’s not good.
He must have looked sad, because Patton hugged him tighter and nuzzled his arm. Janus gave him a small, reassuring smile. Patton’s face turned stern, in a “we’re talking about this later” way. Janus wasn’t sure whether or not he should be worried.
Virgil’s breathing began to slow beside Janus, his face relaxing as he began softly purring again. Janus ran a hand through Virgil’s hair, laughing softly as he smiled in his sleep. Patton sighed happily, kissing Janus’ cheek before resting his head on Janus’ shoulder.
Roman caught Janus’ eye, and grinned.
“Aw, looks like you’ve hypnotized our dearest Emo and Pops.”
Janus smiled.
“Can’t say I’m upset.” He purred, continuing to play with Virgil’s hair.
Roman’s teasing smirk turned soft, and Logan wrapped his arms around Roman’s waist, sinking into him. Logan glanced up, and tiredly smiled up at Janus. Roman kissed Logan’s forehead, then reached for Janus’ hand and kissed it.
Janus felt a soft blush warming his face, and turned away slightly as Roman adjusted his hold on Janus’ hand, entwining their fingers.
“You wanna help me get them to bed?”
Logan frowned.
“I could’ve helped.”
Roman chuckled.
“I know, love, but you’re already half asleep yourself.”
“I am not. I’m completely awake.”
“Mhm, tell that to your eyelids.”
Logan huffed, then gently punched Roman’s shoulder and stood up.
“Asshat.”
Roman laughed.
“I’m serious. No kisses for you tonight.” Logan walked past Roman, over to Janus, and kissed his head.
“Babeee.” Roman reached out to Logan as he whined.
“Nope. Goodnight.” Logan smiled and went upstairs.
Janus chuckled as Roman pouted after him. Roman sighed.
“I’ll take Patton if you take Vee?”
Janus bit the inside of his cheek. If Virgil woke up, he’d probably be upset, but… he looked completely knocked out. And it would only take a minute, so…
“Sure.”
Roman stood, then lifted Patton off of Janus and into his arms.
“Night, Jan.”
“Night.”
Roman carried Patton upstairs. Janus sighed, then shifted Virgil off him gently so he could stand up. He picked up Virgil and began making his way to Virgil’s room. He was still surprised by how light Virgil was- Vee had always joked about it being because of his correlation with spiders, saying he didn’t have an endoskeleton. Well, he was pretty sure Virgil had been joking. Maybe he could ask Logan about it.
Janus arrived at Virgil’s door, which had luckily been left open, and slipped into the room, laying Virgil on his bed gently. He found Virgil’s make-up wipes and wiped off the eyeshadow that remained beneath his eyes, then stood to leave. Again, the urge to kiss Virgil’s forehead arose, and he indulged it this time, before turning to leave.
“Jan?”
Janus froze, and turned around to find Virgil staring up at him, his eyes alert and very awake. A chorus of ‘fuck’s ran through his head.
“Yeah?”
Virgil stayed silent for a moment, then spoke up, “Can you stay?”
Well, that wasn’t the response he’d been expecting. Maybe a “what the fuck,” or a “get out,” or perhaps even a “why.” But definitely not this.
Janus choked out a “yeah,” and walked back over to the bed. Virgil held the covers up for him, and he crawled under. Virgil cuddled up to his chest as Janus hesitantly laid his arm over Virgil’s waist.
“Why-“
“Shhhhh… in the morning, okay?” Virgil cut him off.
Janus swallowed nervously, but nodded. Virgil sighed and pulled Janus closer, his breathing steadying more with second. Eventually, soft snores came from his sleeping form. Janus rested his cheek against Virgil’s hair, and let out a breath.
He and Virgil hadn’t cuddled this much since… well before the Melding. It felt a little strange but… mostly it just felt safe. Like a warm cup of cocoa after a long day in the snow, or curling up in your favourite blanket after a hard day at work.
Janus let himself savour the moment, and silently prayed for whatever god was up there to let him fall asleep.
…
Well that’s a no.
Janus rolled his eyes. Of all nights, it had to be this one, huh?
Virgil twitched in his sleep, and Janus bit his lip. He knew Virgil was prone to nightmares, being Anxiety and all, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. He wondered if he would still…?
Janus moved his hand up to softly pet Virgil’s hair, and he seemed to calm down. Janus laughed quietly as Virgil resumed his purring.
Janus eventually noticed the gloves that still covered his hands, and groaned. That’s why he couldn’t sleep. Awful. He removed them, careful not to disturb Virgil, and placed them behind him on the nightstand. He continued playing with Virgil’s hair, until his eyelids grew heavy and his hands stopped moving. As the safety of sleep washed over him, he couldn’t remember being this happy in a long time.
“Virg- oh my goodness. Oh my goodness, Roman, you have to see this!”
“What’s wrong, Pa- oh my god. That’s adorable.”
“I know, right?! Do you think they’d be upset if I took a picture?”
“They might. Virgil doesn’t like photos without his eyeshadow on.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Aww Logan woulda loved seeing this though!”
“Heh, Specs would’ve gone so soft seeing this.”
Janus’ eyes slowly blinked open, the soft sunlight coming from the window flooding his vision.
“Oh shit they’re awake-“
“Language!”
“Go go go abort mission!”
The door slammed shut as Janus turned around, giggles ringing out from behind it. Even in his morning bleariness, Janus couldn’t help but find it endearing.
“Wha…?” Janus turned back around to see Virgil sitting up halfway, leaning on his elbow.
A knot twisted itself in Janus’ stomach, and his hands began shaking.
“Oh. Mornin.” Virgil mumbled, falling back onto the bed.
“Good morning.” Janus replied, sitting up.
He slipped his gloves back on, and began getting out of bed. Virgil reached over and grabbed his wrist before he was able to.
“Jan, what’s-“ He looked up at Janus, his eyes widening. “Fuck, you gotta get out of here.” Virgil suddenly sunk out, dragging Janus with him.
When he opened his eyes again, Janus was sitting on the couch in the commons. The scenario felt scarily familiar.
“Oh, I just love doing that immediately after waking up. It doesn’t feel weird at all.” Janus hissed.
“Dude, you had eyeshadow down to your nose. You’re welcome.” Virgil threw his hood up, then sank into the couch cushions.
Janus bit his lip.
“Thank you, I suppose.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
Janus played with the hem of his gloves. They really should talk. Didn’t mean Janus had to initiate it. Even though he did. Because Virgil would be nervous about it, and they’d just continue skirting around everything.
“We should talk.” The words felt alien in Janus’ mouth.
Virgil groaned.
“Do we have to? I, like, just woke up, man.”
“You asked to talk about it in the morning.”
“It was like 2AM dude, you can't hold me at that.”
“I absolutely can and will.”
Patton and Roman appeared at the top of the stairs, giggling to themselves. They glanced down and saw Janus and Virgil on the couch, and got quiet. Patton met Janus’ eye and gave him a reassuring smile, before gently pulling Roman back upstairs.
“Let’s...o...ake...gan.” Was all Janus could make out.
Virgil groaned.
“What, did you get my boyfriends in on this too?”
Janus scoffed.
“Like I would use your boyfriends against you.”
“Oh, you absolutely would. Though you’ve been starting to use yourself against me too.”
“Oh, Virgil, who knew you could be so forward?” Janus smirked as Virgil shoved him.
“Like you haven’t been flirting with my boyfriends for the past three months.”
Janus bit his lip.
“Is that alright?”
Virgil finally looked over to him, his eyes wide.
“Uh, yeah, of course.”
Janus frowned.
“You sound like that should be obvious.”
Virgil stared at him, then started laughing. Janus fought down a smile.
“What?”
“Dude, seriously? Oh my god, I don’t know how to tell you this, but if I’m inviting you to cuddle with me and my boyfriends, I’m obviously fine with you flirting with us.” Virgil grinned.
Janus lifted an eyebrow.
“Oh? Us?”
Virgil turned red, and pulled on his hoodie strings a little.
“Nope. I’ll talk about whatever you want, but I am not dealing with that this early.” Virgil mumbled.
“Fine. But you do want to talk?”
Virgil bit his lip, and pulled his hoodie sleeves up.
“I mean, whatever. I don’t really care. But Patton wants me to talk to you and you said you wanted to talk so… whatever. You have to go first though.”
Janus nodded, and brought his legs up to sit cross-legged on the couch.
“Okay. We both know that we both suck at this, so laugh if you please, but know that I then will not hesitate to do the same.” Janus figured that was a good way to start.
It had gotten a small laugh out of Virgil, so it should be fine.
“I… acknowledge that the way I behaved, both prior to the Melding and for a short while after was unacceptable. I know I hurt you a lot, especially when we were young, and I apologize for that.” He paused for a moment.
This all felt so staged. Like he’d stolen it from some story and recited it. Saying it out loud made him feel the same way Patton felt when lying. Like a hurricane had replaced his stomach and the rest of his organs had to deal with the consequences.
“I know I may not be able to remedy it, but I would like to try. I’m working on being more honest and vulnerable, and I would really appreciate it if I had you helping me out with it.” Everything he’d ever known about speaking to people had apparently left his brain.
He wasn’t making eye contact, why the fuck wasn’t he making eye contact? His words were blunt and inelegant.
He finally brought himself to look up at Virgil again.
“Yeah, I mean… thanks, I guess. And uh… I’m… sorry, for kinda being a dick to you after you introduced yourself to Thomas. I know how weird and scary that is so… yeah.”
Janus huffed.
“It was well within your rights to, I wasn’t exactly the nicest either.” His hands gestured as he spoke.
“Yeah, but I did kinda egg the others on too.”
“Ehh, we’re all petty bitches sometimes. I get it.” That startled a sharp laugh out of Virgil, and Janus smiled.
“I’m glad to finally have another petty bitch around to help me out when Roman steals my eyeshadow.”
“Who says I won’t be helping him steal your eyeshadow? Honestly, sounds like fun.” Janus grinned as Virgil punched his arm.
“Asshat.”
“Your asshat.”
Virgil’s smile turned a little softer.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
He stood, then reached to help Janus up.
“Come help me give my boyfriend shit for eavesdropping.” Virgil grinned.
Janus heard a quiet “fUCK-“ come from the top of the staircase, followed by pounding footsteps. He smirked, grabbing Virgil’s arm.
“Gladly.”
They hadn’t spoken about everything, they hadn’t spoken much at all, but they didn’t need to, not right now. It was a healing process. The fact that there was now a reaching branch, a bridge built over their last one, was enough for now. They’d work through it bit by bit, and eventually they’d get there. Until then, Janus was happy to accept this new, but familiar friendship. And as he listened to Virgil and Roman teasing each other, he knew he’d be more than happy with it.
This had to be a dream, of some sorts. This couldn’t be real. Maybe Remus was playing a trick on him, or maybe he’d tricked himself, or something. But he definitely wasn’t in reality.
In the morning, after breakfast, Roman had asked him to come into the Imagination with him for a little while. There had been this beautiful little green clearing among the fall-covered trees, and when he stepped into it, it was as warm as a spring day. They’d sat on one of the rocks, and talked about Thomas’ most recent musical obsession. Roman had, at some point, turned on the soundtrack and convinced Janus to perform some of the duets with him.
Then Patton had requested his help with decorations for their upcoming Christmas celebration (upcoming, as in, in about a month), and Janus had helped with that for a while. Patton put on his favourite Christmas music, and they’d started doing some weird kind of swing dance in the empty family room. Patton had asked for his assistance in hanging mistletoe over the couch, and given him a peck on the cheek before dancing away.
Logan had popped in, and asked if Janus could help him with a schedule. They’d gone to Logan’s room, and Logan had run the schedule by Janus, thanking him when he pointed out any errors or impractical time usage. They’d ended up talking about the new year, how illogical and silly their traditions were. Logan had grumbled something about New Year’s resolutions, then begrudgingly showed Janus a memory of Thomas, him, Roman, Virgil, and Patton singing a silly song regarding them. Janus helped him plan some reasonable, yet still exciting resolutions in advance.
Virgil had knocked on the door, and asked to borrow him. He’d been planning presents for the other sides but wasn’t sure about them yet. Janus helped him sift through ideas, and gave him the little push needed to actually make the gifts. Virgil sat on his lap as he started making the most elaborate one (Roman’s), and Janus hooked his arms around Virgil’s torso so he could see to help Virgil with the details.
So, all in all, a wonderful day.
Now, Janus sat on the family room floor, with Virgil’s head in his lap and Roman leaning against his shoulder, with the coffee table moved up against the wall. Patton was sitting on the couch behind him, putting little braids in his hair, and Logan was curled up against Patton. Something was on the TV, but Janus wasn’t really paying attention. He, honestly, couldn’t remember being this happy his entire life.
And then Patton asked if it was okay if they talked about something.
Janus felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Surely, they weren’t upset with him, right? He couldn’t think of anything he could have done, at least recently, to upset them. Did they just… not want him around anymore? He’d been expecting it, at first, but he’d thought things had been going pretty well…
“What about?”
Patton gently nudged Logan, and the two moved to sit on the floor in front of Janus.
“So, Jan, we all know that the temperature has really fallen recently, and Christmas is coming up soon too…” Patton seemed to be fighting down a smile, like he’d heard the best joke and wanted to tell it to them.
Okay, so not anything to do with right now, but with Christmas. Maybe they needed his help with something? That seemed reasonable.
Virgil sat up, then walked over to the coffee table, grabbing a wrapped box from the shelf on the underside.
“We, uh, made a gift for you, but, we figured you’d like it before it got too cold out.” He sat down next to Janus, cross-legged, and passed him the gift.
Janus frowned, but began unwrapping it. Patton looked like he was about to burst with joy, and even Logan seemed cautiously excited.
He unwrapped it, setting the wrapping paper to the side, and found… A blanket?
“It’s a heated blanket,” Logan spoke up, “You can charge its battery, and it has a built-in heating pad. We figured you’d find it useful.”
Janus blinked, staring at the box.
“It also has lavender pouches in it, because Vee said you sometimes have trouble sleeping, and I figured it might help.” Roman looked up from his shoulder, smiling.
“So… do you like it?” Patton asked.
Janus remained quiet for another moment, as Patton’s grin slowly fell.
“I… this is… amazing.” Janus muttered.
“Are you sure? If you don’t like it, we can always get you something else, and-“
“Patton,” Janus interrupted, “I love it. Seriously. Thank you all, so much.”
Patton’s grin returned, and Virgil let out a sigh of relief from beside him.
“Hey, hey Jam, now, if you wanna, it’ll be easier for you to come into the Imagination!” Roman grinned, and Janus let out a happy laugh.
“Of course, I’d love to.” He placed a soft kiss on Roman’s forehead.
“In that case, would you like to join us there tonight? We were planning on star gazing, and we would enjoy your company.” Logan seemed somewhat flustered, like he’d rehearsed this.
“I do believe my schedule’s open tonight.” Janus smiled.
Patton squealed, and moved to hug Janus. Janus held him tightly, and waited for him to let go first. This all felt so amazingly weird. They’d planned out and worried about getting him a gift he’d like and use, and had absolutely nailed it.
“If you’ll excuse me, I must get to work on making sure the constellations will line up right.” Roman winked, and stood up, “Logan, I’m gonna steal your star charts, yeah?” Roman said, already halfway up the stairs.
“Oh, no you will not, I have them perfectly organized and you will not be messing them up!” Logan chased Roman upstairs, and Janus could hear Roman cackling evilly as he did.
Virgil smirked, and leaned back against Janus.
“Open the box, I think you’ll like it even more.” He muttered.
Janus gave him a quizzical look, but opened the box, and- wow.
It was a red, velvety blanket with yellow flowers embroidered around the edge. It had clearly been stitched together by Virgil, as his signature stitching style was along the edges. When he ran his hand along it, Janus could feel the heating pad in the middle, as well as the lavender pouches. It was like a little part of all of them had been sewn into the very cloth of the blanket. Janus felt his eyes tear up.
“Thank you guys, so much.” He choked out.
Patton kissed his cheek, and cuddled him close.
“Merry early Christmas, Janus!”
Then, Janus did something that was probably really stupid, and was probably going to get him yelled at by at least three people.
He let his hand find Patton’s chin, and tilted his head up to look at Janus.
“I really want to kiss you right now, but I won’t if you don’t want to.” He mumbled.
He heard Virgil gasp softly. Patton blinked up at him for a moment, silent, and Janus worried that he’d horribly miscalculated, before Patton grabbed the collar of Janus’ shirt and kissed him sweetly. When he pulled back, Patton had a huge grin on his face.
Patton began giggling to himself.
“What?” Janus asked breathlessly.
“Roman and Logan are gonna be so pissed I kissed you first!”
Virgil gasped.
“Language! Jeez, Pat, one kiss with a snake and you’re swearing all over the place.” Virgil teased.
Janus glanced between the two nervously.
“I feel like I’ve missed something.”
Virgil cackled.
“Well, you see, Patton, Roman, and Logan have all been trying to kiss you before the other two could. A sort of bet, if you will.”
Janus stared at him blankly for a moment, then began snickering.
“Oh, please tell me who you bet for, Virgil.”
“Are you kidding me? Obviously Patton. If you hadn’t initiated it, his puppy eyes woulda caught you off guard eventually.”
“Fair enough,” Janus grinned, “What was bet?”
“Well, Patton gets to do Logan’s nails, which I’m like 80% certain he’ll love, because of the clicking, and I get to dress Roman for a day.”
“Oh, I cannot wait to see that.” Janus purred.
“Despite what he says, Ro loves hoodies, so I’m sure it won’t bother him too much.” Patton shrugged, leaning against Janus again.
“It was more of a joke than anything.”
Janus nodded. Virgil wasn’t completely merciless- The most he’d make Roman do is wear some really emo makeup.
The three sat there peacefully for a little while, Virgil scrolling through his phone as Patton and Janus talked about the winter garden they’d been planning to put somewhere in the Imagination.
“Hey, Pat, what’re we doing for dinner?” Virgil asked.
Patton gasped.
“Oh! Lo sent me this recipe a few days ago for us to make our own pizzas instead of ordering them! I’ve really wanted to try it out!” Patton said as he scrolled through his phone.
He showed his phone to Janus, then Virgil.
“Sounds good, want some help with it?” Virgil glanced across Janus to Patton.
“Sure, kiddo! C’mon!” The two got up, and Patton offered Janus a hand up.
“You wanna help too?”
“Of course.” Janus smiled, accepting the hand up.
Roman led the way as they trampled through the undergrowth of the Imagination. Janus was already bundled up in his new blanket, which- as he’d predicted- was the perfect temperature. It seemed to have some sort of spell on it that kept it to whatever temperature he wanted at any given moment.
Eventually, the forest broke, and they found themselves standing in a field covered in little white flowers, with patches of asters sprinkled about. The moon shone brightly above them, covering the field in a soft glow as they found the large blanket Roman had laid out for them. They sat down, Patton running his fingers over the flowers that poked out over the edge of the blanket.
Logan sat down in Janus’ lap, taking Janus’ hands and fiddling with them.
“Roman, this is… beautiful. The flowers are even season-accurate.” Logan mumbled.
“Well, of course they are! I know my flowers very well, dearest nerd.” Roman stuck out his tongue at Logan.
“Oh Roman, when will you learn not to lie around me? You stole Logan’s book about North American flowers a week ago.” Janus purred.
Roman let out an offended gasp.
“Betrayed! Betrayed by my beloved! How will I go on?” He collapsed into Patton’s lap, sending Patton into a fit of giggles.
“Roman, for the last time, you need only ask to borrow my books, it’s not like I’m going to say no.” Logan softly berated him.
“Mmm… no thanks. It’s much more fun to steal them while Jan distracts you.”
Janus levelled Roman with a betrayed look as Logan gently slapped him in the chest.
“Two can play at that game, Snakespeare.” Roman winked.
“You two will be the death of me.” Logan mumbled amusedly.
Virgil grinned, falling onto his back.
“Lo, did you look at the stars yet?”
Logan looked up, and it was if a switch had been flipped. His eyes lit up, and his mouth laid slightly agape as his eyes flitted from constellation to constellation.
Janus watched with adoration as Logan stared at the sky. He could see now why Roman was so excited about this. Patton sighed happily, playing with Roman’s hair.
“Hey, Lo, what planet is that?”
“Oh, that would be Mercury. It is lucky we were delayed by several hours due to Roman passing out on the couch at midnight, or else we may not have seen it.”
“Wow, Logan, shady much?”
“Of course not. Anyways,” As Logan began info-dumping about Mercury, Janus paid as much attention as his sleep-deprived brain would let him.
They asked Logan questions about constellations, and stars, and he rattled off the answers excitedly while gesturing with his hands. Eventually, they ended up in a cuddle pile, with Logan in the middle, being cuddled by Janus on one side and Roman on the other. Virgil reached over Roman and Logan to hold Janus’ hand, and Patton was cuddling him from behind. It was, basically, perfect.
Logan had started interrupting his own sentences with yawns, and his eyes started drooping.
“M’kay, I think it’s about time we turned in.” Patton mumbled, sitting up.
Virgil yawned.
“What gave that away, the sun?”
Janus frowned, and looked up and, oh. Yep. The sun was rising. He got up, stretching, then helped Logan up. Both Logan and Patton were practically walking in their sleep. The only one who seemed energetic was Roman, who sighed disappointedly.
“I suppose we should get going.” He said.
He snapped, and the blanket they had been laying on folded itself into a square. He picked it up, and carried it in his arm as he took Virgil’s hand and began leading them back through the forest. Logan hung off of Janus’ arm, and Patton walked beside Janus sleepily, holding his hand loosely.
When they arrived home, Janus was practically carrying Logan. Patton had sleepily kissed everyone goodnight, including Janus, which had thrown Roman for a loop, then drifted off to his room. Janus dropped Logan off at his room, confident that he could get himself to bed, and went back into the family room to sit with Roman and Virgil.
Roman sat on the smaller section of the couch, and Virgil sat in the corner, with his legs stretched out to rest on Roman’s lap. Roman glanced up, and patted the spot beside him. Janus sat down next to him and leaned against him.
“So… you kissed Patton before me? That’s illegal.” Roman grinned.
“Oh, shush.” Janus smirked, and gently tilted Roman’s head, pressing a kiss to his lips.
Roman held his face gently, like he was scared Janus might crack if he was too rough. They pulled back, and Roman rested his forehead against Janus’ and dissolved into a fit of giggles.
“Ew, get a room.” Virgil joked, poking Roman with his foot.
Roman just continued laughing. Janus tried to hold in his own laugh, but failed miserably.
“I have been desperately looking forward to this for literal months, oh my god, I’m so happy.” Roman grinned, and really, how was Janus expected to not kiss him again?
“I could get used to this.” Roman said breathlessly.
“Yeah?” Janus whispered.
“Definitely.”
Virgil snickered.
“Boo, get off the stage!”
Roman laughed, and launched himself at Virgil, covering his face in kisses.
“Stawwwppp, I’m tryna scroll through tumblr.”
Roman peppered more kisses on Virgil’s cheek.
“Nope. You are now forever trapped in Kisses Jail for your crimes.”
“What crimes?”
“Being a hypocrite.” Janus smirked.
“Wha- no, never have I ever gone all PDA-ish.” Virgil fought back a smile as he tried to push Roman off of him.
“Oh, please do pretend like you’ve never started making out with Patton in the kitchen, or Roman in the hallways, or Logan in the family room-“
“Okay, okay, I get it.” Virgil finally surrendered himself to Roman, who pressed a few victory kisses to Virgil’s face, then cuddled him.
Virgil gestured for Janus to sit with them, and Janus moved to rest his head on Virgil’s shoulder.
“So… I know we’ve never really had an actual real conversation about this, and we should probably talk about it with Lo and Pat too, but…” Roman paused, “I would really, really like to take you on a date. And later become your boyfriend, if you so wished.”
Janus stared at him for a probably worrying amount of time, but…
“Yes. Please. I’d- I would love that.” Janus stuttered out.
Roman reached across Virgil and took Janus’ hand, kissing it before adjusting his grip to hold in. Virgil leaned his cheek against Janus’ head, and smiled.
“And me. And almost definitely Patton and Logan. If you’ll have us.”
“Of course.” Janus grinned.
And if, in the morning, Patton found them cuddling on the couch and swooned, and if Janus spent the majority of his days cuddling his new boyfriends, and if they would sometimes use his need for heat to coerce him into affection, and if Janus occasionally spent the night sleeping in a cuddle pile on the couch, could you blame any of them?
After all, it is a well-known fact that Janus is cold-blooded.
———————————————————————————————————
Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! :)
Taglist:
@girl-with-many-fandoms ~ @arodynamic-enby ~ @imma-potatoo ~ @canvas-the-florist
#dlamp#ts dlamp#lamp#ts lamp#Janus Sanders#deceit sanders#Coldblooded!Janus Sanders#Janus-centric#Janus-centric DLAMP#roman sanders#Princey Sanders#creativity sanders#logan sanders#Logic sanders#autistic!logan#patton sanders#Morality Sanders#Virgil Sanders#Anxiety Sanders#Moceit#Roceit#Loceit#Anxceit#royality#logicality#moxiety#logince#prinxiety#Analogical#sanders sides
56 notes
·
View notes
Text
a donation drabble request for the ever kind and supportive Ayobami @tps31! thank you SO MUCH for your donation and support!! you’ll never know how much it means to me <3
prompt: tianshan quarantine fluff, aka “why the hell am I stuck in a house with you all day every day?”
(a/n: this is just a random thought but I honestly don’t think I’ve written a fic about the boys still in middle school like, ever, so thank you so much for this prompt! it was so refreshing to write them as the flustered, airheaded, and teasing boys they are!) <3
tianshan, 3600 words, rated T
* * *
Guan Shan hates this.
The laundry basket next to his. The pair of shoes at the front door. The extra toothbrush in his bathroom, and the second phone charger plugged in next to his bed. There’s a gray duffel bag taking up the corner of his bedroom and a black jacket draped over the back of his desk chair. None of it takes up too much space, carefully put into their respective places and never crossing the boundary, but—
Guan Shan hates it.
And, what’s worse: he never asked for this. He was stupid enough to mention He Tian’s name at the dinner table one night; a passing comment he hadn’t really thought about. But then his mother had paused with a spoonful of miso soup at her lips, pensive.
“He Tian,” she’d echoed, as if the name felt foreign but sweet on her tongue. “Isn’t that the one who lives near the center of the city? The one who lives alone? The tall and polite and handsome one of your friends?”
“Uh,” Guan Shan had said, smirking with distaste. “Yeah. Sure. That one.”
“Poor thing. Alone throughout all of this mess.” She sighed. “Why does he not live with his family?”
And Guan Shan had thought about it for a moment, sifting through his mind like pressing rewind on a VHS. “I don’t know,” he’d admitted, reaching for the soy sauce. “Never asked.”
She nodded, thinking. “Well, you should invite him over, then.”
Guan Shan choked.
Oblivious, his mother had continued: “Have him stay a few nights. No one should be left alone throughout this entire period. Who knows how long this will last, what with how many cases that have been reported. He’ll go stir crazy by himself, poor soul.”
“He’s already stir crazy,” Guan Shan said, eyes watering from a dislodged grain of rice. “I don’t want him here, ma. I’ll literally do anythin’ else. Seriously.”
She’d given him a disappointed look. “Ah-Shan, I thought I raised you to have a little more compassion than that.”
“Trust me, a person like him doesn’t need compassion.”
“Now, you don’t know that,” she reprimanded. She tapped her chopsticks against her bowl, succinct. “After we finish dinner, you should reach out to him and invite him to spend the week with us.”
“A week?”
“Well, now that school is postponed and I’m working from home, wouldn’t it be nice to have company for a bit?”
“Ma, please—“
“You will text him, Ah-Shan. No excuses. The world needs kindness right now, and we will do whatever we can to contribute to it.”
And that, unfortunately, was that.
That night, Guan Shan deleted the message immediately after he sent it, as if that would erase it out of his memory, too. But it was hard to forget the string of skeptical yet blaringly enthusiastic string of response texts that followed the invite, and even harder to forget the sight of He Tian at their front door half an hour later, duffel bag slung over his shoulder and smile bright as he greeted Guan Shan’s mother with practiced sweetness and feigned gratitude.
Guan Shan hated it.
But as his mother shot him a warning look, Guan Shan couldn’t do anything about it. Couldn’t just ignore him like he did, sometimes, at school.
And now, five days in, there’s a knock at the bathroom door.
“Little Mo, are you naked?”
Running a towel over his hair, Guan Shan scowls at his reflection in the mirror, still foggy from the steam. “Fuck off, chickenshit.”
“I’m kidding.” He can hear the smile in He Tian’s voice. “I just need to brush my teeth.”
“Then you can wait.”
“It’s been twenty minutes, sweetheart. Are your showers usually this long?”
“That’s an average fuckin’ time for showers!”
A hum, muffled by the closed door. “Really? Mine only take ten, and that’s generous considering the precious amount of time I spend washing my—”
The thunk of the lotion bottle against the door rattles its hinges. “Fuck off!”
He waits until he hears He Tian’s footsteps recede. Guan Shan hates that he knows He Tian is walking away with that smug-as-all-hell smile, satisfied.
He dresses quickly after that, doing his best to ignore the citrus-scented face wash by the faucet and the contact lens case by the hand soap. The first time he’d seen all of He Tian’s things laid out like this on his bathroom counter was something like a revelation. It was like some things clicked into place, unbidden. Now it makes sense why Guan Shan sometimes thinks he catches a whiff of lemonade every time He Tian gets too close, and why He Tian looks like he’s scowling whenever he reads but, really, it’s just because he’s blind as a fucking bat and has to squint to see fine print.
If nothing else, Guan Shan suspects at least something valuable might come out of all this time he’s forced to spend together with He Tian — (read: blackmail) — but then again, He Tian hasn’t commented on the old, stained state of Guan Shan’s pillow like Guan Shan thought he would because he’s used it since he was four and can’t really sleep well if he’s not using that specific pillow. And he also hasn’t said anything about the way Guan Shan jumps, sometimes, when the toaster springs up his toast in the mornings because he never fucking sees it coming and it — sometimes — causes him to drop his jam knife.
A stalemate, Guan Shan supposes as he pulls his shirt over his head. Except, deep down, he knows that He Tian probably isn’t even aware that such a concept exists. After all, what would He Tian be if not someone to fight ‘til a broken victor is left standing?
By the time Guan Shan walks out into the living room, it’s ten o’clock. His mother, having finished washing the dishes because Guan Shan made dinner, is nowhere in sight, likely huddled up in her bedroom with a book like she always does before bed. That leaves He Tian alone on the couch, casually flipping through TV stations in a t-shirt and sweats, and he doesn’t see Guan Shan at first when the latter turns the corner.
“Bathroom’s open, dipshit,” Guan Shan mutters. He Tian looks up as Guan Shan approaches, settling on the opposite end of the couch.
“About time.” He Tian tosses Guan Shan the remote, and he barely catches it before it smacks against his chest. Standing, He Tian smiles and says, “Find something good to watch by the time I get back, okay?”
“I don’t work at your beck and call,” Guan Shan seethes. But despite his retorts, his fingers find the remote buttons as He Tian saunters back to the bathroom, hands in pockets and steps quiet against the creaky floors.
For a while, there really is nothing interesting on any of the channels. Guan Shan flies past a romcom, an old horror film, a few cartoons, the dreaded news. Nothing catches his attention — and he feels exhaustion coming on quick. He thinks, maybe, of just going to bed. But behind the apartment’s thin walls, he can hear the water running from the faucet. Despite himself, he frowns.
It’s odd, really. He never thought he could get used to the image of He Tian’s broad frame hunched over his sink in the mornings, or the way He Tian can reach the bowls at the top of the cupboards without going on his toes, or the sight of He Tian’s nape pressed against the twin-sized air mattress on the floor of Guan Shan’s bedroom. He never thought anyone could make his mother laugh as much as he can, or finish puzzles as fast as he can, and he certainly never thought that his mother would spill Guan Shan’s childhood stories to someone she’d only met... once? Twice? He doesn’t keep track. He never had to before.
Nevertheless, it’s not nearly enough time to warrant such trust. Such comfort.
Guan Shan hates it.
But in the midst of his lamenting, the faucet shuts off. A few moments later He Tian returns. And when he plops back onto the couch — too close — he smells of mint and vanilla-scented chapstick.
Too aware of his presence and the way his knee almost touches Guan Shan’s, Guan Shan takes a long second to snap back to reality when He Tian asks, “What’s this?”
Guan Shan blinks. On the TV, there’s some kind of documentary playing. A narrator drones over the images of a complex space aircraft, and the camera pans out to show footage of the stars it swims in. As the screen switches to an interview of someone very important-looking in a suit, Guan Shan scowls.
“I don’t know. Nothin’s on.”
He Tian stretches his arms above his head, long and lithe. “Well,” he says, drawn with a sigh, “if you’re trying to put me to sleep, it might actually work.”
“Fuck off, I don’t control the damn stations,” Guan Shan bites. “And you shouldn’t be tired to begin with. You did jack shit today, just like every other day.”
He Tian looks at him, the corners of his eyes softened with drowsiness in a way that Guan Shan has become used to seeing.
“That’s not true,” He Tian says. “I went with you to pick up supplies so your mom can sew masks. And we went to get the mail downstairs. And I helped you go grocery shopping—“
“You fuckin’ stood there with the cart and didn’t help at all—“
“—and I chopped the onions and peppers for dinner. That’s a lot. I’m exhausted.”
“That’s a normal person’s life,” Guan Shan says, exasperated. “Honestly, what the hell did you do all your life until quarantine?”
He Tian seems to take a moment to genuinely think about his answer. “Homework,” he offers, brows a bit pulled. “Basketball. School, obviously. I usually go to the convenience store for dinner, but sometimes I’ll get takeout. And I don’t get mail, but my groceries get delivered to me, so.”
And then he looks at Guan Shan, almost as if expecting some kind of praising reaction — but Guan Shan can only stare.
“That’s ridiculous,” Guan Shan says after a long moment. “That’s ridiculous and fuckin’ miserable. You live like a robot, and a broken one at that.”
Silence. Then He Tian sits up a little straighter, as if a puppetmaster had pulled on his strings.
“I mean, I used to take piano lessons,” he says, frowning as he rubs at his neck. “And Cheng took me to shooting ranges. And…” A pause. “Camping. Yeah, we went camping some weekends. Went to rivers and fished together all day. I caught a few sometimes.”
Guan Shan blinks. “What, are you tryin’ to prove somethin’ to me right now?”
And He Tian shrugs. “Maybe.”
The answer takes Guan Shan by surprise. But He Tian’s face is neutral — expression always so put together — and Guan Shan wonders if maybe He Tian is lying to him. Building up some kind of persona again just to tear it down later. Because, surely, with that much fucking money and privilege, the guy doesn’t just sit there in that empty apartment all day and twiddle his thumbs. Surely, with his reputation, he has a regular posse of socialites always seeking him out and inviting him to some kind of get-together or event. Surely, considering all that he is, He Tian doesn’t waste his time looking for, or teasing, or protecting, or calling up—
“Guan Shan?” He Tian says, mouth a little twisted. “You still awake?”
The low rambling of the space documentary suddenly seems louder. Guan Shan swallows, once, then forces himself to look away.
“You make no fuckin’ sense to me,” Guan Shan mutters. Then: “When are you leavin’?”
“Ouch,” He Tian remarks in an empty but unsurprised tone, shifting back on the couch. After a moment, he shrugs and responds, “Depends. Your text said a week but your mom says forever.”
A scowl. “She didn’t fuckin’ say that.”
He Tian smiles. “No, she didn’t. But she did say as long as I wanted — which, really, isn’t that much different from forever.”
Guan Shan swallows; feels inexplicable heat crawl up his neck like a spider, and he clenches his jaw against it.
“You should go live with your own family,” he says, staring ahead. “I’m sure they’ve got all the time in the world to shower you with attention.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees He Tian smirk.
“If I didn’t want to live with them at the best of times, what makes you think I would want to live with them at the worst of times?”
Guan Shan considers that. “This… isn’t the worst of times.”
“There’s a pandemic with no cure killing hundreds of people every day,” He Tian says, bland. “School is practically cancelled. People aren’t going to work. You invited me over to your home, unprompted. Even I know, with all things considered, that these are pretty bad times.”
Guan Shan can’t argue that. Instead he stares at the television, watching an astronomer point out weird symbols on some kind of map. It takes a lot of concentration to focus on nothing. After all, if he shifts his gaze any more to the right, he’ll see He Tian. If he lets his eyes slide down any further, he’ll see the way He Tian’s knee is still too close to his own. Both are dangerous territories for dangerous thoughts, and he doesn’t want anything to do with either.
After a moment of silence, Guan Shan says, “You know, you should get friends. Real friends, and not your fuckin’ fangirl group.”
He Tian raises a brow. “I have you and Jian Yi and Zhan Zheng Xi.”
“That’s not—” And then Guan Shan stops, frowning, because he’s not actually sure what their ragtag mess of a group isn’t. Instead, he swallows and pathetically hides behind: “I’m not your fuckin’ friend.”
It’s the wrong thing to say. Or, maybe, it’s exactly what He Tian thought what he’d say. Guan Shan isn’t sure; he’s never fuckin’ sure when it comes to him. But it doesn’t stop him from tensing up when He Tian turns to face him, fully. Wholly. It leaves no escape, and Guan Shan realizes with a sour kind of reluctance that he has no choice but to look back.
“No?” He Tian asks, meeting his gaze. “Then, what are you to me?”
The way the television’s screen lights up He Tian’s face — it’s like looking at a painting, alone in the museum, at the dusk of day. Blue hues shine through his hair, dim, and his eyes are only bright enough to reflect the silhouette of Guan Shan sitting in front of him. It’s eerie, how the both of them are so undefined in this moment. Maybe, in a way, that’s easier.
Guan Shan’s voice feels thick when he says, “I’m not answerin’ that.”
“Why?”
“I don’t— need to.”
“Why?” And then: “Overthinking it?”
Guan Shan flares. “What? What the fuck does that— No, I just— I don’t need to answer fuckin’ anything, asshole. I… I owe you jack shit.”
Silence responds to him. He Tian watches him; studies him. Guan Shan feels like a specimen under his gaze, split apart layer by layer under the microscope. He feels like, somewhere, something in him is splintering. And He Tian is watching it happen.
“I don’t have a fuckin’ answer,” Guan Shan admits, sudden, like a sinner in a confession booth, heavy and quiet and raspy. “Okay? I told you, you don’t make any goddamn sense to me. You wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for my ma.”
He Tian soaks that in, almost as thoroughly as he takes in the sight of Guan Shan’s flushed scowl.
“You didn’t want me here?” he says, teasing.
“No, dipshit. Every time you’ve been here hasn’t been because I asked you to be.”
He Tian smirks. “Ouch,” he says again, except this time it’s said in a way that pricks Guan Shan like a rose thorn.
Guan Shan pushes down the heavy feeling in his throat. “I don’t know what you were expectin’,” he says, truthfully.
And then He Tian looks away, rolling his head. There’s a kind of empty look in his eyes that Guan Shan thinks he recognizes, and after a moment he realizes it’s the same look he’s seen in He Cheng’s eyes in the few rare times they’d crossed paths.
“I wasn’t expecting a pandemic,” He Tian says. His voice sounds loud in the small room. “I wasn’t expecting school break to get extended. I wasn’t expecting all the restaurants to close, and for all the store’s shelves to be wiped clean.” He runs his tongue along his teeth. “But I guess, for some reason, I was expecting a text from you after weeks of nothing.”
It hits Guan Shan, hard and heavy, like a ring-laden fist against his cheek. The last time he’d seen He Tian before all of this mess was a month ago — more — and at the time, none of them had known that this is how it would turn out. How could they? It’d only taken a week for things to turn south, and Guan Shan was too busy worrying of how he and his mom were going to file for unemployment to think of the way his phone had been silent for longer than he’s been used to.
He wants to pull it out right now; check his recent messages. It would be with a sort of disbelief when he would find the timestamp on He Tian’s contact, he already knows. But the shock wouldn’t come from his own lack of outreach. No, his perplexity would stem from He Tian, the same person who couldn’t go a single weekend without a conversation about nothing over Facetime back when things were normal. The same person who, apparently, hadn’t messaged him once until Guan Shan texted him that dreadful night five days ago.
Had he been— testing Guan Shan?
“I didn’t reach out to anybody else,” Guan Shan hears himself saying. The words taste bitter as they leave his mouth. What is he doing? What does he have to justify? “I... It was weird, those first few days of the lockdown order, and my ma and I— we had a lot goin’ on. It wasn’t— I mean, I haven’t talked to Zheng Xi or Jian Yi this whole time either. I just... don’t have time. Or, I did, but it wasn’t urgent. I— yeah, I barely use my phone anymore, anyway. I’m always at home now so I just... don’t need it.”
He stops, his tongue feeling thick. He Tian isn’t looking at him, but he knows he’s listening. Somehow, the thought makes it even worse.
“What,” He Tian suddenly says, and there’s a curl to his mouth that he can’t seem to help, “are you trying to prove something to me right now?”
“I—“ Guan Shan flares, teeth clenched and ears hot. “Fuck you. No, I’m not, asshole. I’m actually rescuin’ your damn pride, but apparently you’ve got too fuckin’ much.”
“Hey, hey,” He Tian says, wrapping his fingers around Guan Shan’s wrist when he makes to get up. “Come on. Don’t make me finish this documentary by myself.”
Guan Shan scowls. “I’m tired. Let go.”
“Then we can sleep on the couch,” He Tian replies — and then almost as if it were an afterthought: “again.”
Guan Shan warms at the implication of it. “Why the fuck would I do that when my room is around the corner?” he hisses.
He Tian tugs his arm. “Because I’ll follow you anyway since I’ve only got two days left with you and I’m not letting today end like this.” He smiles. “We’re not sleeping yet. I’m selfish.”
“I could’ve fuckin’ told you that,” Guan Shan mutters, dry. But he relaxes, settling back on the couch, and eventually He Tian lets him go. The skin he had touched feels electric in his absence.
“Let’s make popcorn and ride this out,” He Tian says, settling against a throw pillow. His eyes, no longer empty, are content as they drift back to the screen.
Hand in chin, Guan Shan smirks. “We both brushed our teeth already. I’m not doin’ it again.”
“Tomorrow, then.” He Tian gestures to the TV. “Popcorn and something more interesting than this.”
“If you think this is so damn boring, then why are you still here?”
“When else will I find an opportunity to spend time with you like this after I leave?”
Guan Shan doesn’t respond. After a moment, He Tian huffs.
“That’s when you’re supposed to invite me back over in the future, little Mo,” he says, amused. Guan Shan shoots him a warning look as the documentary goes to a commercial break.
“Don’t push your luck,” he snaps. “And don’t try to convince my ma, either.”
He Tian hums, shifting, and Guan Shan suppresses a flinch when his knee presses up against his. Warm. “I hadn’t even thought about that. That might be the agenda for tomorrow, now.”
“I’m sick of you,” Guan Shan growls. And He Tian laughs, like it’s the funniest thing ever, how easily he can get under Guan Shan’s skin and force him to worry about nothing and get him to stay with him to watch shitty television all within the span of twenty minutes. How Guan Shan has managed to survive more than three days is an incredible feat. How he’s unable to chase away the thought of inviting He Tian over for dinner after he leaves, sometimes, is an inexplicable one.
And when the documentary comes back on with a cheap intro jingle and the streaming quality of a disposable camera, Guan Shan feels He Tian’s foot hook against his and tries to convince himself, over and over:
I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.
* * *
thank you for reading! likes/reblogs would be greatly appreciated, as this fic is dedicated to the Black Lives Matter movement. if you would like a fic/drabble written for you (and you want to support the BLM cause!), please see this post!
have an incredible week! <3
153 notes
·
View notes
Note
pseuuuu I’m glad I get the chance to ask u this!! I am VERY much in the need for some VERY filthy grimy dirty talk, like. Just the dirtiest u can come up with. I’ve been having a hard time finding some good, blush-inducing stuff, esp from my Ikerev boys 😔 Just whoever u think would be best at it cuz idk (Blanc’s experienced n I assume ladies flock to him for a reason, Sirius is Sirius, Edgar has a silver tongue, so does Seth, the Twins are probably good too hmmm)
Hmmmmmm. Nonny, I am honestly not confident in my ability to produce dirty talk out of the moment, but I’ll try! I love that you asked and I agree that good dirty talk that lands well is... whewwwwwwww. (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄
I’ll try really hard to make these as d i r t y as you asked. I think the ones who would best at it are Ray, Edgar, Kyle, and Seth. Sirius is good at everything on this blog but if I think about Suwabe murmuring out “ahhhhrisu” like he does on the drama CD for too long I will DIE so I’m sorry, but I’ll have to be drunker for that one. Men talking dirty in this world is tricky in part because they’re so gentlemanly, but again. Going for (pay) DIRT.
Ray’s got you laying back against the headboard of his bed while he sits at the other end, watching you. Nice nightgown, he observes, stroking your ankle, but I’m not sure why you’re wearing it here. You can smile at him any way you like or try to distract him or even—his favorite— pretend you’re ignoring him, but no matter what you do, his hand slides from your ankle under the hem of the nightdress to your calf, and then he drums against your knee. You gonna make me wait? he asks. Because we both know that doesn’t always end well for your clothes. He’s not lying. After some light teasing he gets the whole dress up and covers your eyes with it. How’s that pretty little mind gonna plan my next move if you can’t see me, hmm? He licks a long, wet stripe beside your navel and holds you by the hips to keep you on the bed. Sweetly merciless, he tickles and teases until the dress isn’t enough to muffle your cries, and then he feasts with gusto and commentary. So soaked, silly girl. Feels good. You feeling good? Nah, don’t worry, I get it. You focus on that. Gonna get even more wet for me? Good. Then do it. Now.
Edgar just uses his sweet voice to whisper hints of filthy shit in passing, the hint-ier the better, the more in passing the better, so he can see how it messes you up and flusters you. Missed a spot, he’ll whisper in the dining room on a beautiful morning that follows a night where he came all over your face and hair. There’s no way... is there? He’s the one that cleaned you up! Don’t look so alarmed or I’ll cover you all again. You’re only human, you can’t resist patting at your face and hair with a napkin just for some sense that you’ve addressed the situation. He politely extracts you from anyone you’re talking to after breakfast and guides you to a quiet hallway with an iron grip on your wrist. If you’re this cute about it, I’ll do it again tonight. Unless you want it in your mouth this time? Or in the bath, to soak it all away? As your cheeks get hot and your eyes get glassy he tells you you’re a sweet girl and there’s jam on your mouth— no, don’t you dare lick it away, that’s my job.
Kyle. Oh, Kyle. His dirty talk is kind of adorable because he says it with so much wonder and love, but it’s still dirty as hell, especially when you’re coming back from a night at the pub and he’s feeling happy-crabby and his filter is down. He’ll yawn on the walk and declare how tired he is, and if he catches you pouting (or just wants to mess with you) he’ll start to tease. You wanna keep me up or something? Deny it or not, your choice. His face moves easily from sleepy to sharp. Yeah? Well how are you gonna make that worth my while? Get him under you when you get back to your room and the cockiness is as gone as he is for you: fffffffuck, stop, stop—! So slippery, you’re a fucking mess, show me those tits so I have something else to think about or I’ll fill you up right now. Once he’s needy it’s easy to keep him there. Keep your blouse buttoned and squeeze yourself around him to make him come fast and he’ll attack you with his mouth all pissed about it, and growl at you to come like he’s the one that calls the shots. Cute, cuuuute. If you unbutton your blouse he’ll laugh and ask Which one first? but it’s really up to what kind of day he had if he listens before he chooses a breast and gets it in his mouth. Get your fingers in his hair and fist it and he’ll groan obscenities around your nipple and cream you just as quickly as if you’d left the shirt on.
Seth. That voice?! He’s gonna get you against every wall and mattress he can just to smile at you like sugar and sunshine while he tells you what he’s going to do to you and how he’s going to make you feel. His newest, truest enemy: you not experiencing sublime sexual satisfaction. His sweet is calm and peppered with slow, wet kisses when he says Don’t you worry about anything, Alice. When the sun goes down, I’ll lay you out on your bed and make you sob into your pillow until you feel better, honey. Were you even worried about anything? Well, you are now, his hand is (gently) fisting your skirt at your hip and pulling it higher. He needs to know if you’ve been good and worn the pretty new panties he bought you. Hmm, you have so many now, show me so I can see for sure you put on the right pair. Surprise! It does not actually matter what pair you put on! When he goes down on you later he calls you princess and when he crawls up your body to kiss you his cheeks and chin are slippery. He narrows his eyes and makes a show of swiping them with a hand and then licking it clean, unless you look extra needy. You want it? Use your words, sweetest heart. The way he watches and so clearly approves of you desperately sucking yourself off his hand might be even hotter than his words. But then he asks Now, does my beautiful girl need a kiss or does she need to get fucked?
#ikerev hc#ikerev#ikemen revolution#ikerev fanfic#ikerev fanfiction#tipseu#dirty talk is honestly one of the things I struggle with the most#in writing... in real life it's parallel parking#it’s part of why my hat stays off to BTS writers who kill it over and over again!#read lamourche! read gukslut! read hobidreams! they do it so well 🙇🏻♀️
86 notes
·
View notes
Text
I've been building up these hcs for a while, and I finally decided to unleash them onto the world.
So! Here ya go. My unadulterated thoughts over a long period of time. Have fun w them.
Remus bonks his forehead with another's to show affection. It started simply as something his brain told him to do, I think-some twisted idea of knocking both people out by banging their foreheads together. But then it turned into something he did for affection, due to how close it got your face to someone else's and the contact you share. Plus, it's so original, and that's Creativity's whole thing, right??
(It took him awhile to figure out how to do it lightly enough that he wouldn't hurt the person he was bonking (yes it's called that) but he eventually figured it out!!)
Him and Roman do it like,,,super hard as a way of greeting. Or like, just for shits and giggles, or even to knock someone out of something. It's one of those Brotherly Things™ they do together, y'know?
More Brotherly Things™ they do include slamming into each other to hug for the same reasons up above, shaking each other by the shoulders Forcefully mostly whenever they're explaining something Wild or they're Angy and the other pretending to be annoyed by it, and initiating sudden sparring sessions where one will just suddenly whip out their weapon, and the surprise is part of the spar, basically. It's not cheating; you just have to adapt to when the other suddenly starts one.
They had to explain to Patton Very Thoroughly that they weren't hurting each other and that it was all fun and games before he agreed w it
Janus was the first to adapt, then Logan, and then Virgil kinda had to take some time to stop being startled every time it happened
Thomas got it Immediately.
He has brothers.
He gets it.
Janus! Likes!! Dancing!!!!! VERY important hc
Remus and Janus used to make skirts (and possibly other clothing?) together
All three darks know how to sew
It started with Remus wanting to make something and learning with Creativity Powers and eventually teaching Virgil and Janus
Janus actually already knew how to sew simple stitches due to having to fix a lot of Remus' clothes but Remus taught him a lot more abt it
He ended up knowing more than Remus even did, though, due to ending up Really into it
More than once, he has asked Remus for cloth and made his own skirt, shirt, etc. possibly with Remus' help
In a world where Jan and Virge are close,,,,,,,he totally helped with the jacket
Jan and Lo absolutely have debates like. 24/7 while also playing chess
Remus is eternally wearing thigh high high heeled boots, no questions asked
Roman used to wear Normal boots most of the time before he got Good Bro Stats with Remus again. After that he was Jealous that Remus was a bit taller than him and started wearing his own heeled boots, though his were usually normal height
Sometimes they'll switch boots to mix things up
Roman also started wearing heels bc he thought it'd be fun
Roman and Janus have specific nicknames for each other; one nice and one teasing
Janus' are Prince and Beast
Roman's are Beauty (to parallel Janus' for him) and Snake (another parallel; both are simple ideas of what/who they are)
Janus probably came up with his first and Roman flipped the script on him in return
Janus is pretty chill with coffee or tea, but he prefers tea and knows a lot more about it. Coffee? Eh, not too bitter please. Tea? Basically whatever, but the subtle calm stuff is really his jam. Mostly just a tad of honey, rarely any milk, if he ever adds anything at all. He usually takes his tea straight up; the kind to sit around and Think at the table while it cools y'know.
Patton's actually kind of a coffee dude, but he doesn't drink it that much, and if he does, it probably wouldn't be very bitter and pretty doctored. Tea is too mild for him; just tastes like hot water.
Logan? Coffee for energy, but he likes the Calm tea brings. Flower flavors all the way babey, with a bit of honey and just enough milk to make it a bit richer. Since the coffee is purely for Energy, he doesn't give a shit what it tastes like, as long as it doesn't burn his fucking esophagus he's just downing it.
Roman claims he likes tea bc it's Fancy, but he actually prefers Coffee for the chocolate/bitterness in it and the Energy, so there's that. He actually likes his pretty bitter, funnily enough. Really likes chocolate creamers and vanilla, caramel, or chocolate flavored coffee.
And of course, Remus claims he prefers coffee and just downs it all the time (mostly for shits and giggles probably) but he actually likes tea more for all the different flavors and stuff. Plus it's always even MORE scalding than coffee so it's more fun to down! He actually doesn't like how bitter coffee is and if he did actually drink it it would be drowned in creamer I swear to you. He really likes honey in his tea and a bit of milk, maybe some sugar depending on the type? Not usually though. More fruit flavors the better man.
Virgil drinks coffee in the morning for Energy, and he's pretty chill with it, but he kinda prefers tea for the calming shit it can give you. Drinks the coffee for the Energy, but refuses to just let it taste like shit, so he adds a bit of creamer and sugar, yeah. Mostly up for fruit and flowery flavors, honey all the way babey. Thinks sugar tastes like shit in tea.
Janus has a Large Campaign around trying tea straight more often, or just generally adding less sugar, mostly. Virgil is on his team, Remus is kinda on it depending on what tea you're talking about, and Logan is also pretty much on that train except for when it comes to things like english breakfast teas, stuff like that.
Virge wears a pair of headphones around his neck a lot; they're bluetooth, and hooked up to his phone 24/7, basically. He just throws them on and nyOOMS out of the situation best he can when shit gets hectic. They're kinda like a security blanket kind of thing; nice to know that you have immediate access to blocking out the world around you.
His jacket goes about the same, sorta. In the sense that it's a security object, I mean. He just feels...safer with it. There are very few situations besides being Totally Alone where he'd feel safe without a jacket (but specifically the one he's Chosen for the time, though the Chosen One can change if he finds something new or better), but if he does hang out around you without one, know that he trusts you with all his goddamn heart and he is taking a Leap of Faith rn and you better not screw it up ok.
Jan's gloves and hat are in a similar situation. They're just. Always There. They just make him feel safer y'know
Also I'd die for it to be canon that Janus has a little snake under his hat
Roman and Remus totally make copies of their sashes to hang up at Christmas
Yo but like,,,,,,,,,what if the sides' heights correlated to how long they'd been like...around?
Like how long it'd been since they manifested yknow
Pat is like. Emotions so he probably showed up Immediately. Same for Jan, considering he's self preservation. They're almost exactly the same height. Logan is just a small bit shorter, since he's partially curiosity and he showed up just a bit later. The original King would've been the same height as the other two, but...what about Roman and Remus?
So...the Split probably had to have happened after Virgil showed up, which took...a While. He's super short. Now the question is, would the twins be the height of the King, since they're technically part of him, or Tiney-like smaller than Virge-due to when they split?
...just for Tiney Virgil Rights, we'll make em tall. They're exactly the same height, of course, but Remus likes wearing heels.
All the Og Boys are the same height as Thomas-maybe a bit taller?-but Virge is like. A head and a half shorter than most of them. It's hilarious.
All the sides garden, for their own reasons
Virgil does it for the calm, the monotony, and the bright colors and smells. Plus, it just...feels really nice knowing he helped something stay alive. Makes him feel a lil better about himself.
Janus does it because he's been doing it for...a long time. Not to mention the calm of it all, digging your hands into soil and planting something new...plus, the flowers are always beautiful. Always have been, always will be. Tending to them is like...caring for an old friend. And he has so many memories with these flowers...old and new.
Plus he can plant his own tea leaves which is fun.
Logan does it partially for the monotony, partially for the care, partially for helping something to live. Partially for feeling a little something for the little guys; just...a feeling of saying hello again, having...a conversation with the flowers.
Less science, more emotions. For just a moment.
Patton does it because it's fun!! Because the flowers are pretty, the smells are nice, he can plant vegetables, too, the garden just feels nice, it feels like having more friends…
So many good, good reasons.
He'll have conversations with his flowers, and he's named them all.
Most of them haven't named theirs, but they do talk to them every now and then.
Roman does it for the calm and the prettiness and the scents. And just the concept of a pretty garden...excellent. And it is rather nice, just absorbing yourself in the work of it all...it's like all your cares fly away.
(They all agree with that, if only a little.)
He also has a venus flytrap or two...just gifts from Remus.
Remus does it because 1, fun, and 2, weird exotic creepy plants are so cool!!!!!! He's got all kinds of stinky but fascinating plants, yeah, but he also has some really pretty vivid ones. He also has a soft spot for roses…
(...the King was known for handing them out, back in the day, for fun. The twins...never let it go, even though they're unaware.)
He actually has some nice smelling ones here and there, but he mostly bases whether it's goin in his garden off of it's exoticness, coolness, or cool colors
They also all know flower language!!!
Janus knew first but when Jan taught Virgil about it, he went NUTS over it
Jan taught Remus, but Virgil taught the light sides
After he learned they had gardens too, he went '!!!!!' and info dumped about flower language for a whole half hour before he realized what he was doing and stopped
The others urged him to keep going, and to visit their gardens someday and tell them some details on meaning
Now, most of them may be swayed by meaning when it comes to choosing whether or not they're keeping the flower, and they've even named some of them off the others
Remus, especially, could flip on a dime on a no or yes depending on a meaning and if it fits a friend well
Generally, though, they all chill out in each others' gardens a lot and talk abt their flowers!!
It's part of their daily routine
They all eat breakfast and then they leave to tend to their flowers
They have their own outside gardens, like. Connected to their rooms (with help from the twins, most likely) but they also keep some inside their rooms
Patton keeps cacti and little tiny flowers in little pots here and there. ("They're my little friends!!!!") They all have names, just the same as the others.
!!!!!! Also he totally goes into his tiney frog form sometimes after he waters his garden and chills in the moist soil, or even in the little plants around his room
Perfect place babey
Virgil has a few with calming scents scattered about. Maybe a few bright ones, just so they stand out
Logan...concept: bonsai. Why? Bonsai...cool. Also he can observe it's growth. It's fun ok
He also probably has a few he's doing experiments on and even maybe a few he just liked a lot yknow
Jan...probably just a few who's meanings he liked. A few pretty ones, a few calming ones. And…
One who's meaning reminded him of Remus, and one for Virgil.
After Virgil left, he set it on the dining room table.
It returned to its former spot on the counter when Janus was finally part of his family again.
Patton has a little plot he's set aside for the plants that remind him of the others.
Janus has a similar one. It used to be just Remus' and Virgil's; two lonely souls…
….but now it's filled with 3 more, neatly arranged.
Their family has grown so much.
Also Janus totally does the same thing Pat does but in his snake form. Like he just settles into the dirt and sunbathes.
Sometimes, one of them will come over to the other's place and they'll just chill in one of their gardens together. (Half the time, Patton is sitting on Janus' head, nestled under Janus' little snake hat as best he can, probably with his little frog nose sticking out.)
More than one of the sides have stumbled upon it. Every time, they just take a picture, gaze at them for a little while, maybe say hi, maybe not, and be on their way.
Roman probably plucks a rose every now and then and sets it in a vase. Not that often; just a while after the last one decays, and only one at a time.
He's nice to his rose bushes, ok? He swears to you.
He also totally has a few tiny, colorful ones here and there and some really nice smelling ones.
Just realized, he ABSOLUTELY has a honeysuckle plant. Same for Pat. That's like,,,,,,the Staple of excellent smells and pretty flowers AND childhood man
And...after he bonded again with his brother-or maybe even before-he planted one that reminded him of him…
But it's tucked away in his bedroom. Who knows if it even exists.
Remus just goes NUTS with whatever he wants inside his room, man. Cacti? Totally. Venus fly traps? Yeah, one or two. Colorful flowers that he just likes the looks of?? Hell yeah babey!!!
And...he himself has a flower of his own, tucked away upstairs…
...but he's had it for far, far longer.
(He may or may not have had to change what it was after bonding with Roman again, but hey, people change yknow?)
Also!! They all like poetry-writing AND reading
Janus likes it due to like...just. The pure elegance in the craft, I suppose. The way feelings, beliefs, and philosophies can be expressed.
It's all so interesting, how something so deep can be put into simple words.
His are usually elegant, with old-themed writing and deep metaphors, deep thoughts on philosophy and emotions that can only be expressed through odd metaphors and quiet words whispered by his pen.
Roman likes it for similar reasons; it's such an elegant way to express yourself, there are so many metaphors you can wind in there, and it feels so mystical, in a way...it's such a short little thing, but pure emotions can be injected straight into it.
He has so many. He...there's so much to feel, so much to write, so many ideas, all the time. But no matter what, they're full of metaphors, flowery language, the occasional serious one where he simply...pours every drop of sadness from his heart onto the paper.
He happily injects the emotions he doesn't want into those packed words, filled with so much.
He has his fair share of mystical ones, though, describing old beasts and monsters and songs and soulmates and love.
Virgil likes it due to the emotional outlet it can be, and the pure craftsmanship of it all. Just...the way some poets weave stories together...amazing.
His are often straight vents. Simple words, straight metaphors, lots of short lines and stanzas. Just...conveying things with the words straight from his head.
Remus likes it for the themes poems can carry. So dark, and maybe sad, and yet so simple; not gruesome, simply...heavy.
It's almost what he aspires for, in at least some aspects.
He also loves it for the dramatics of it all and the history, just as Roman does. Drop the love of the romance, though. However, he does adore how emotions can be conveyed.
His are just as mystical as Roman's can be sometimes, though his are often more about horrors lurking in the night, of course. He's prone to throwing extra emotions into his poems, as well, ones he doesn't know what to do with except throw overboard.
Logan likes it for the emotional outlet. For the explanation of emotions through metaphors, like puzzles for him to solve, to try and figure emotions out. And how much that can make him feel, so much packed into such a tiny package.
He has his own of those; small little poems that have...so much emotion poured into them, for when his cup runs over and the emotions he can't handle try to splash out on the ground and stain his carpet, stain the hearts of his friends and even his own.
He also enjoys the philosophy and even psychology in it all.
As mentioned, some of his are...simply filled to the brim with emotions he can't handle, straight vents. But as for style, he often writes with simple concepts, a lack of metaphors, big words that convey the same idea but are hard to understand with the common eye.
Patton likes it for similar reasons; there are so many emotions packed into poems, so many complex ideas he loves picking apart, so many metaphors that rely on emotion that he understands immediately.
He has his own fair share of vent poems. He has so many emotions that sometimes…he just. Needs somewhere to put them. He doesn't use big words, and uses a lot of winding explaining instead, but his metaphors and analogies are always flawless. He always knows what he means.
Sometimes they just sit around and talk about poems, poets they like, recommendations, how they managed to get into it, stuff like that. Double whammy, sometimes they chill in their gardens together and talk poetry or even integrate certain flowers or flower language into their poems.
Roman, Remus, and Patton go out when it rains and just...have fun. Sometimes Ro takes an umbrella and just twirls around a little bit, enjoys the atmosphere (as the feeling of it all is what he loves the most), but sometimes Remus manages to convince him to come play with them.
Remus just likes the rain cause it's fun to play in, yknow? Also, mud! And worms!! Worms!!! Worms are so cool, those wiggly little guys.
All Sides Confirmed, worms are cool, they have worms in their gardens and also worms are just generally cool dudes.
Pat likes it cause Frog, duh. Also it's fun to play in the rain, ALSO duh!!
Lo considers rain just. Smth that happens.
Virge likes the atmosphere of rain and likes the smell that's in the air afterwards, but doesn't like getting wet. Thunderstorms terrify him too.
Jan likes the Vibe of rain, same as Virge, and also likes the smell afterwards, but he likes to stay inside. Yknow, cuddle up with a nice cup of tea (or even hot chocolate, if he's feeling extra cozy) and a book and just listen to the pitter patter.
He doesn't exactly enjoy thunderstorms, but he's good at tuning them out. (And he's also excellent at calming Virgil down during one.)
So when a storm hits the mindscape (or however the hell it works) Pat and the twins will go outside and the others will stay holed up in the living room, drinking tea or hot chocolate and just Chillin.
Sometimes they even invite Thomas, just for fun. (And cause they mentioned it to him and he was affronted at them that he wasn't able to see Pat and the Twins just have fun in the rain.)
Sometimes, rarely, Pat and Ree will eventually convince Thomas to join them in their fun. (Ro or Ree can just magic him clean anyways.)
Catch the twins conjuring up feather pens whenever the hell they want to
Janus absolutely has a pet snake or two. They just sit and hiss at each other sometimes
Pat? Yeah, a couple frogs. He mostly keeps them in his garden, though; they're only really his pets in the sense that he feeds them and talks to them sometimes.
The twins probably share their theatrical strengths
Like,,,,,,Remus? If he's a villain or even slightly shitty as a person, he's got it. Plus a lot more complex characters
Roman? Can do dashing princes and kind characters excellently
Like...they just. Can't do some characters, because that's what the other can do. Y'know?
I don't know, maybe they aren't actually so...split down the middle? But I like the idea of that I guess
Sorry this got so long! I've been collecting these thoughts in a doc for a *while,* so it grew a lot. I can't add a read more either, since I'm on mobile...sorry.
#sanders sides#ts janus#ts virgil#ts remus#ts roman#ts patton#ts logan#character thomas#sanders sides headcanons#tss headcanons#creativitwins#kiiinda. just a bit. almost kinda sorta#trash talks#long post#sorry about that again#like i said though i cant do much about it#thomas sanders#that seems to be The general tag so its goin on
66 notes
·
View notes
Text
just a few more minutes.
“just - just hold on a few more minutes. okay? okay? please.”
PAIRING - Diego Hargreeves/Reader.
WORD COUNT - 2316.
WARNING - angst. just a tonne of angst. curse words used a-plenty, too.
A/N - I was planning on writing something happy because it’s the holiday season, but then i wrote this and just...kept writing...and here were are. i suppose i’m sorry.
THE STREETS WERE MOSTLY EMPTY, save for a few stragglers here and there. But those who were out, were rushing about on their way home, eager to avoid the creepy gloom of the night and get into the warm indoors. They avoided eye contact and kept themselves closed off, just looking for their final destination where they would be safe.
It seemed like there was only one person who did not share that mindset, that night. Her speed was almost the opposite of the others. It was leisurely and slow, an air of calm about her despite the very pronounced limp the woman walked with. Still, despite the limitation, she walked with ease and confidence and did not even bother to bat an eyelash in anyone’s direction. She was formidable.
Or, so it appeared. Inside, the woman’s brain felt like it was on fire. Nay, actually?
She was ninety-five percent sure it was actually on fucking fire, just like the rest of her body.
“Holy shit,” she hissed to herself. Biting back a groan at every movement, she limped forward, begging for just a little more strength to get her there. But her leg just dragged painfully on the pavement, twisted awkwardly as though it was not made for her body. The work of pulling herself with only half the strength she normally had was taxing, a trial she almost doubted she could pass.
But finally, she had managed to limp her way to the payphone booth - which at least was empty. Maybe the universe did not hate her too, too much.
The woman slammed the glass door shut behind her and let her weight crash against it, only to barely remain standing. With a shaking hand, she found a bloody quarter within her jean pocket and jammed it into the machine, punching at the numbers with the same trembling ferocity. Everything was done fast and hard, forcing herself to move despite the flood of torment in her thigh, trying to drag her down. She knew her strength was running out, and fast - but she would be damned if she went down easily.
Every ring was torture, taunting her - like it already knew she was too screwed, and found it absolutely hilarious. The phone rang and rang, only to never be picked up. The woman groaned, slamming her bloody fist against the booth over and over, the only reaction she allowed herself to have. Not that that did much with her lack of strength; all that was left was a smear of red stained against the glass.
She swore under her shallow breath and searched her pockets once more. She found her last quarter and shoved it in the slot, once more typing out the gym’s number. As the laughing phone tone began, singing her dying fate out into the tiny glass booth, she bit back her screams, ripping at her broken fingernails in an attempt to hold back her reactions to the pain. If she actually had to die in that goddamn phone booth, alone and bleeding out from such a stupid wound? Oh, Diego would -
“-’Ey, what do you want?” rasped from the other end. Not the voice she had been expecting - this person was harsh and cold, with a thick accent to boot. “We’re closed.”
“Is Diego uh, Hargreeves there?”
“We’re closed, lady.”
She sighed, gritting her teeth as a new wave of pain shot through her body. “Yeah. Got that loud and clear the first time, but trust me, I’m not here to sign up for a fucking membership. I need Diego.”
The man on the other end sounded suspicious, unsure just what his employer could be up to that time. Which, to be sure, he might have a right to be worried, considering just who Diego was. If she was not bleeding to death alone in a phone booth, she might even have sympathy.
But she was, and she did not.
“What for?”
“I just need him.”
“-listen, lady-”
“-my water just broke,” she sobbed, half in theatrics and half because the pain really was a bitch. She grimaced at the lie choice, but oh well; not like she was really up to being more creative. Her wound seemed to be inhibiting her ability to think of intelligent excuses for-
“-excuse me?!”
Right. Right, that. “M-my water just broke,” she repeated, attempting to sound more upset about it. “And, and I’m scared, and I just - I can’t have my baby born without its daddy there, right? I mean, what kind of mother would I be if I raise our baby boy without him? Yes we’ve not gotten along but he’s his dad, he needs that fatherly support and dammit, I need him here, too! He can’t just escape this-”
-just as she was sure her long winded spiel was reaching an unfortunate end, the man on the phone cut her off. “I’m going to get him, okay? I’m going.”
“Thank you so much, I-” she stopped once she knew he had actually left, knowing there was no point in talking to silence. She adjusted her position, sliding further down the glass with a whimper. It was getting worse, and the quiet was not helping. Honestly, dying in a tiny clear box with no one around to help her or even watch her bite the dust was not how she was planning this to go. Frankly, it felt a little embarrassing.
Her leg threatened to buckle, and she had to brace herself to remain standing. A lone tear dripped down; it gleamed silver in the artificial light. It was getting worse by the second. Time, for her, was running out very quickly.
“Who the hell is this?”
She brushed away a stray tear and straightened her back, a relieved smile licking her lips. “Diego? That you?”
“Y/N?” He asked back, incredulous. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I had to get a hold of you.”
“And telling my boss that you were going into labour, with my kid? Jesus, I work for him, you know?”
Despite the pain, Y/N grinned even wider. Maybe she was just entering that stage of doom where everything was more sentimental than it really was, but for some reason his grumpiness kind of just -
“Hello? Y/N?!”
She adjusted herself once more, only to silently wince as more pain shot through her frame. “Shit - uh, well, I needed a way to talk to you.”
“And that was the best shot?”
Ironic word choice. Unfortunately without intention.
“I needed to talk to you, dude - and it’s not like I can tell that guy I got shot, yeah? That’d be a little weird.”
For a moment in time, it was silent on the other end, leaving Y/N unsure what had happened or if he had left. Just as she was about to give up, however, he spoke.
“You got shot?”
She hissed, half in pain and half in guilty realisation - that was not the way she had meant to tell him. Shit. “Look, I-”
“-what happened? Where are you? Holy shit, are you okay?!”
“Long story. And I’m, I’m in a phone booth right now, admiring the city lights. It’s really pretty out here, you-” pause; hiss; the pain was eating her alive. “-know?”
Diego ignored her joke. “Where are you, Y/N?” There was a tightness to his voice, a concern that rarely arose between them. If it was not such a shitty situation, maybe she might let herself think more into it than she should.
“I’m…” she hesitated, lifting her gaze to search around her. Her head spun - what did it say if she was already feeling light-headed? Probably nothing good. “I’m on the corner of Gladstone. Probably near Griddy’s, I think…”
“Shit. Shit! Okay.” He paused, seemingly thinking, before speaking again. “I’m coming. Don’t move, okay? It’ll just b-b-be a few minutes.”
She laughed dryly. “Don’t worry, I don’t think I can.”
He cursed again, under his breath. “How bad is it?”
“Um…” She was far from an expert on bullet wounds, but it certainly looked bad. And judging from all the other symptoms going on, the sense of imminent doom and what not? Well, she doubted her life had much left to it.
But she could not bring herself to admit that to him. And so, she smiled, even while knowing he could not see her, and just shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m okay right now. I did the pressure thing you taught me? So I should be fine. It’s a leg wound, so like, I’m livin’ peachy.”
That was a brutal lie. But she could not worry him more.
“I’m on my way. I promise. Stay there, stay safe. Remember pressure, and, uh - j-just stay there, okay?”
“Okay,” she mumbled, grimacing through the dizziness. “I’m...I’m sorry, Diego.”
“What? No. Y-y-you’re fine. I’m coming, stay there.”
“I’m sorry...I…” the words lingered on her tongue, sweet and sad, a whispered promise she just wanted to share. But she swallowed them back instead of letting them slip out. “Okay. I’ll be here.”
He hung up without a goodbye, just another order to stay put and wait just a few more minutes.
She half smiled at that. If only he knew, ‘a few more minutes’ might be enough time for the gods to write up her death sentence.
Once she knew he was gone, she let go of the phone and just let herself fall to the ground. She huffed and hissed through the pain, pressing into the wound and letting her fingers turn even redder. Her eyes fell to it, tracing the shape over and over again until it was ingrained in her mind.
She knew very little about gunshots, but at least she knew enough to know it was not looking good for her. The shot was bad and looked pretty deep, and the fact that it was still bleeding so much was not great either. She did not know how much blood a body could stand to lose but it probably was not a lot more than what was already shed. And, weren’t there important arteries in the thigh? She cursed. Oh, why oh why couldn’t she remember what Diego had told her before?
Her head fell back against the glass. A tear slipped down, followed by another, creating twin silver streams that glittered in the light. She could not even get up, probably could not even stand if she wanted to. Truly, it was a pathetic sight. Dying alone in a phone booth as the few pedestrians ignored her failing breaths? She had always pictured a better death than this.
Sure, considering how many stupid things she did in a day death was always around the corner, but it was not like she was considering that a whole lot. She thought she might just live forever - or long enough to have a better life. A better job, more friends, a family she could call her own. But she was dying fucking alone with none of that to her name. With the only person in her life she truly cared for on his way to find her dead body. And she did not even have the chance to mumble some cute last words or anything. Her last words would be ‘I’ll be here’.
“Bullshit,” she mumbled, the sound deafening in the silence. “Bull...shit!” Her fists weakly pounded against the glass, pressing bloody shapes into the booth. Without much strength, they made little noise.
Maybe this was what she deserved. Was this the doing of the fates up above? Deciding she had done enough, that they had to hit her with enough karma to kill her good and dead? She had no clue. But it certainly felt like that.
She let her eyelids slip down, coating her in darkness once more. It was too hard to hold them up, too heavy - and she was getting too tired to fight anymore. A part of her knew that staying awake was probably the only option she had for survival, just then, but her exhaustion was quickly winning against her resolve. She was just so tired…
At least she would go out knowing she had done a good thing, she mused. All she could hope was that the girl rescued was safe, hopefully at home with a good family, a loving partner maybe? Asleep at that point, not thinking about the one who had taken the bullet meant for her heart. She got another chance at life. Maybe that was what mattered in the end.
The woman sucked in another breath, finding it harder and harder to fill her lungs. She huddled closer to the glass, pressing her shivering figure against it. Gone was the confidence, the wise-cracking and calm exterior; she had been reduced to a small, trembling figure seeking a second breath from fates who refused to give it to her. Nothing more than a number, another nobody dead when no one cared.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, coughing through the words. Her mouth filled with a strange taste, metallic and thick. She had to spit it out, and when her eyes opened just for a moment, she could barely see the blood dribbling from her mouth to her paling fingers. The woman sobbed, shaking as the cries rocked her fragile body. Tears dripped along with blood from her lips and stained her face, mixing to be a gruesome sight. A sorrowful one.
“I’m so sorry,” she cried, choking through every syllable. “Dammit...I’m so sorry…”
No one heard her, but maybe she did not even care. Or maybe she did not know that, and truly thought he was right there listening to her pitiful cries. Like he could hear her apologies, her admittance of love, her begging for life in that tiny glass box. Like maybe she still had some hope.
Her hand fell limp and her head did too, lolled against the cold glass. Her eyes remained open just for a moment, staring blankly forward without seeing much at all before she had to let the lids close. Her body stopped shaking, and her breathing grew quieter. The tears stopped falling, though their silvery remnants remained etched into her skin. She was silent, with her last words to no one hanging over her head - an apology, and a sad, small confession of love to the man who she would never see again.
It only took ten more minutes for Diego to show up. But it would be too late. She was a fallen figure, pressed against the glass box, unmoving. No amount of begging, of shaking, of pounding against the phone booth and screaming at the universe for doing this to him, would make a difference. He did all he could, pressing against her heart to force it to beat, pressing breaths against her bloody lips and begging them to take the air into her body - but in the end, his hands were covered in her blood and despair hung deep on his face.
Diego ran his hand down his face, ignoring the red staining his weathered fingers, and sobbed. His attempts were useless. Nothing could be done.
She was already dead.
#diego hargreeves#diego hargreeves x reader#diego hargreeves oneshot#diego hargreeves x reader angst#tua x reader angst
162 notes
·
View notes
Text
Random Review #3: Sleepwalkers (1992) and “Sleep Walk” (1959)
I. Sleepwalkers (1992)
I couldn’t sleep last night so I started watching a trashy B-movie penned by Stephen King specifically for the screen called Sleepwalkers (1992). Simply put, the film is an unmitigated disaster. A piece of shit. But it didn’t need to be. That’s what’s so annoying about it.
By 1992 King was a grizzled veteran of the silver screen, with more adaptations under his belt than any other author of his cohort. Puzo had the Godfather films (1972 and 1974, respectively), sure, but nothing else. Leonard Gardner had Fat City (1972), a movie I love, but Gardner got sucked into the Hollywood scene of cocaine and hot tub parties and never published another novel, focusing instead on screenplays for shitty TV shows like NYPD Blue. After Demon Seed (1977), a movie I have seen and disliked, nobody would touch Dean Koontz’s stuff with a ten foot pole, which is too bad because The Voice of the Night, a 1980 novel about two young pals, one of whom is a psychopath trying to convince the other to help him commit murder, would make a terrific movie. But Koontz’s adaptations have been uniformly awful. The made-for-TV film starring John C McGinley, 1997′s Intensity, is especially bad.
There are exceptions, but Stephen King has been lucky enough to avoid the fate of his peers. Big name directors have tackled his work, from Stanley Kubrick to Brian De Palma. King even does a decent job of acting in Pet Semetary (1989), in his own Maximum Overdrive (1986) and in George Romero’s Creepshow (1982), where he plays a yokel named Jordy Verril who gets infected by a meteorite that causes green weeds to grow all over his body. Many have criticized King’s over-the-top performance in that flick, but for me King perfectly nails the campy and comical tone that Romero was going for. The dissolves in Creepshow literally come right off the pages of comics, so people expecting a subtle Ordinary People-style turn from King had clearly walked into the wrong theatre. Undoubtedly Creepshow succeeds at what it set out to do. I’m not sure Sleepwalkers succeeds though, unless the film’s goal was to get me to like cats even more than I already do. But I already love cats a great deal. Here’s my cat Cookie watching me edit this very blog post.
And here’s one of my other cats, Church, named after the cat that reanimates and creeps out Louis and Ellie in Pet Sematary. Photo by @ScareAlex.
SPOILER ALERT: Do not keep reading if you plan on watching Sleepwalkers and want to find out for yourself what happens.
Stephen King saw many of his novels get adapted in the late 1970s and 80s: Carrie, The Shining, Firestarter, Christine, Cujo, and the movie that spawned the 1950s nostalgia industrial complex, Stand By Me, but Sleepwalkers was the first time he wrote a script specifically for the screen rather than adapting a novel that already existed. Maybe that’s why it’s so fucking bad. Stephen King is a novelist, gifted with a novelist’s rich imagination. He’s prone to giving backstories to even the most peripheral characters - think of Joe Chamber’s alcoholic neighbour Gary Pervier in the novel Cujo, who King follows for an unbelievable number of pages as the man stumbles drunkenly around his house spouting his catch phrase “I don’t give a shit,” drills a hole through his phone book so he can hang it from a string beside his phone, complains about his hemorrhoids getting “as big as golfballs” (I’m not joking), and just generally acts like an asshole until a rabid Cujo bounds over, rips his throat out, and he bleeds to death.
In the novel Pervier’s death takes more than a few pages, but it makes for fun reading. You hate the man so fucking much that watching him die feels oddly satisfying. In the movie, though, his death occurs pretty quickly, and in a darkened hallway, so it’s hard to see what’s going on aside from Gary’s foot trembling. And Pervier’s “I don’t give a shit” makes sense when he’s drilling a hole in the phone book, not when he’s about to be savagely attacked by a rabid St Bernard.
There’s just less room for back story in movies. In a medium that demands pruning and chiseling and the “less is more” dictum, King’s writing takes a marked turn for the worse. King is a prose maximalist, who freely admits to “writing to outrageous lengths” in his novels, listing It, The Stand, and The Tommyknockers as particularly egregious examples of literary logorrhea. He is not especially equipped to write concisely. This weakness is most apparent in Sleepwalkers’ dialogue, which sounds like it was supposed to be snappy and smart, like something Aaron Sorkin would write, but instead comes off like an even worse Tango & Cash, all bad jokes and shitty puns. More on those bad jokes later. First, the plot.
Sleepwalkers is about a boy named Charles and his mother Mary who travel around the United States killing and feeding off the lifeforce of various unfortunate people (if this sounds a little like The True Knot in Doctor Sleep, you’re not wrong. But self-plagiarism is not a crime). Charles and Mary are shapeshifting werewolf-type creatures called werecats, a species with its very own Wikipedia page. Wikipedia confers legitimacy dont’cha know, so lets assume werecats are real beings. According to said page, a werecat, “also written in a hyphenated form as were-cat) is an analogy to ‘werewolf’ for a feline therianthropic creature.” I’m gonna spell it with the hyphen from now on because “werecats” just looks like a typo. Okay? Okay.
Oddly enough, the were-cats in Sleepwalkers are terrified of cats. Actual cats. For the were-cats, cute kittens = kryptonite. When they see a cat or cats plural, this happens to them:
^ That is literally a scene from the movie. Charles is speeding when a cop pulls alongside him and bellows at him to pull over. Ever the rebel, Charles flips the cop the finger. But the cop has a cat named Clovis in his car, and when the cat pops up to have a look at the kid (see below), Charles shapeshifts first into a younger boy, then into whatever the fuck that is in the above screenshot.
Now, the were-cats aversion to normal cats is confusing because one would assume a were-cat to be a more evolved (or perhaps devolved?) version of the typical house kitty. The fact that these were-cats are bipedal alone suggests an advantage over our furry four-legged friends, no? Kinda like if humans were afraid of fucking gorillas.
Wait...we are scared of gorillas. And chimpanzees. And all apes really.
Okay, maybe the conceit of the film isn’t so silly after all. The film itself, however, is about as silly as a bad horror movie can get.
When the policeman gets back to precinct and describes the incident above (”his face turned into a blur”) he is roundly ridiculed because in movies involving the supernatural nobody believes in the supernatural until it confronts them. It’s the law, sorry. Things don’t end well for the cop. Or for the guy who gets murdered when the mom stabs him with...an ear of corn. Yes, an ear of corn. Somehow, the mother is able to jam corn on the cob through a man’s body, without crushing the vegetable or turning it into yellow mash. It’s pretty amazing. Here is a sample of dialog from that scene:
Cop About To Die On The Phone to Precinct: There’s blood everywhere!
*STAB*
Murderous Mother: No vegetables, no dessert.
That is actually a line in the movie. “No vegetables, no dessert.” It’s no “let off some steam, Bennett” but it’s close. Told ya I’d get back to the bad jokes.
See, Mary and Charles are new in town and therefore seeking to ingratiate themselves by killing everyone who suspects them of being weird, all while avoiding cats as best they can. At one point Charles yanks a man’s hand off and tells him to "keep [his] hands to [him]self," giving the man back his severed bloody hand. Later on Charles starts dating a girl who will gradually - and I do mean gradually - come to realize her boyfriend is not a real person but in fact a were-cat. Eventually our spunky young protagonist - Madchen Amick, who fans of Twin Peaks will recognize as Shelly - and a team of cats led by the adorable Clovis- kill the were-cat shapeshifting things and the sleepy small town (which is named Travis for some reason) goes back to normal, albeit with a slightly diminished population. For those keeping score, that’s Human/Cat Alliance 1, Shapeshifting Were-cats 0.
It is clear triumph for the felis catus/people team! Unless we’re going by kill count, in which case it is closer to Human/Cat Alliance 2, Were-cats 26. I arrived at this figure through my own notes but also through a helpful video that takes a comprehensive and complete “carnage count” of all kills in Sleepwalkers: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vmt-DroK6uA
II. Santo & Johnny “Sleep Walk” (1959)
Because Sleepwalkers is decidedly not known for its good acting or its well-written screenplay, it is perhaps best known for its liberal and sometimes contrapuntal use of Santo & Johnny’s classic steel guitar song “Sleep Walk,” possibly the most famous (and therefore best) instrumental of the 20th century. Some might say “Sleep Walk” is tied for the #1 spot with “Green Onions” by Booker T & the M.G.’s and/or “Wipe Out” by The Surfaris, but I disagree. The Santo & Johnny song is #1 because of its incalculable influence on all subsequent popular music.
I’m not saying “Wipe Out” didn't inspire a million imitators, both contemporaneously and even decades later…for example here’s a surf rock instrumental from 1999 called “Giant Cow" by a Toronto band called The Urban Surf Kings. The video was one of the first to be animated using Flash (and it shows):
youtube
So there are no shortage of surf rock bands, even now, decades after its emergence from the shores of California to the jukeboxes of Middle America. My old band Sleep for the Nightlife used to regularly play Rancho Relaxo with a surf rock band called the Dildonics, who I liked a great deal. There's even a Danish surf rock band called Baby Woodrose, whose debut album is a favourite of mine. They apparently compete for the title of Denmark’s biggest surf pop band with a group called The Setting Son. When a country that has no surfing culture and no beaches has multiple surf rock bands, it is safe to say the genre has attained international reach.
As far as I can tell, there aren’t many bands out there playing Booker T & the M.G.’s inspired instrumental rock. Link Wray’s “Rumble” was released four years before “Green Onions.” But the influence of Santo and Johnny’s “Sleep Walk” is so ubiquitous as to be almost immeasurable. The reason for this is the sheer popularity of the song’s chord progression. If Santo and Johnny hadn’t written it first, somebody else would have, simply because the progression is so beautiful and easy on the ears and resolvable in a satisfying way. Have a listen to “Sleep Walk” first and then let’s check out some songs it directly inspired.
youtube
The chords are C, A minor, F and G. Minor variations sometimes reverse the last two chords, but if it begins with C to A minor, you can bet it’s following the “Sleep Walk” formula, almost as if musicians influenced by the song are in the titular trance. When it comes to playing guitar, Tom Waits once said “your hands are like dogs, going to the same places they’ve been. You have to be careful when playing is no longer in the mind but in the fingers, going to happy places. You have to break them of their habits or you don’t explore; you only play what is confident and pleasing.”
Not only is it comforting to play and/or hear what we already know, studies have shown that our brains actively resist new music, because it takes work to understand the new information and assimilate it into a pattern we are cogent of. It isn’t until the brain recognizes the pattern that it gives us a dopamine rush. I’m not much for Pitchfork anymore, but a recent article they posted does a fine job of discussing this phenomenon in greater detail.
Led Zeppelin’s “D’Yer Maker” uses the “Sleep Walk” riff prominently, anchored by John Bonham and John Paul Jones’ white-boy reggae beat:
youtube
Here it is again with Del Shannon’s classic “Little Town Flirt.” I love Shannon’s falsetto at the end when he goes “you better run and hide now bo-o-oy.”
youtube
The Beatles “Happiness is a Warm Gun” uses the Sleep Walk progression, though not for the whole song. It goes into the progression at the bridge at 1:34:
youtube
Tumblr won’t let me embed any more videos, so you’ll to travel to another tab to hear these songs, but Neil Young gets in on the act with his overlooked classic “Winterlong:” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RV6r66n3TFI
On their 1996 EP Interstate 8 Modest Mouse pay direct homage by singing over their own rendition of the original Santo & Johnny version, right down to the weeping steel guitar part: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VT_PwXjCqqs The vocals are typical wispy whispered indie rock vocals, but I think they work, particularly the two different voices. They titled their version “Sleepwalking (Couples Only Dance Prom Night).”
Dwight Yoakam’s “Thousand Miles From Nowhere” makes cinematic use of it. This song plays over the credits of one of my all-time favourite movies, 1993′s Red Rock West feat. Nicolas Cage, Lara Flynn Boyle, Dennis Hopper, and J.T. Walsh https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tu3ypuKq8WE
“39″ is my favourite Queen song. I guess now I know why. It uses my fav chord progression: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kE8kGMfXaFU
Blink 182 scored their first hit “Dammit” with a minor variation on the Sleep Walk chord progression: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sT0g16_LQaQ
Midwest beer drinkin bar rockers Connections scored a shoulda-been-a-hit with the fist-pumping “Beat the Sky:” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YSNRq0n_WYA You’d be hard pressed to find a weaker lead singer than this guy (save for me, natch), but they make it work. This one’s an anthem.
Spoon, who have made a career out of deconstructing rock n’ roll, so that their songs sometimes sound needlessly sparse (especially “The Ghost of You Lingers,” which takes minimalism to its most extreme...just a piano being bashed on staccato-style for four minutes), so it should surprise nobody that they re-arrange the Sleep Walk chords on their classic from Gimme Fiction, “I Summon You:” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=teXA8N3aF9M
I love that opening line: remember the weight of the world was a sound that we used to buy? I think songwriter Britt Daniel is talking about buying albums from the likes of Pearl Jam or Smashing Pumpkins, any of those grunge bands with pessimistic worldviews.
There are a million more examples. I remember seeing some YouTube video where a trio of gross douchebros keep playing the same progression while singing a bunch of hits over it. I don’t like the smarmy way they do it, making it seem like artists are lazy and deliberately stealing. I don’t think it’s plagiarism to use this progression. And furthermore, tempo and production make all the difference. Take “This Magic Moment” for example. There's a version by Jay & the Americans and one by Ben E King & the Drifters. I’ve never been a fan of those shrieking violins or fiddles that open the latter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bacBKKgc4Uo
The Jay & the Americans version puts the guitar riff way in the forefront, which I like a lot more. The guitar plays the entire progression once before the singing starts and the band joins in: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKfASw6qoag
Each version has its own distinctive feel. They are pretty much two different songs.
Perhaps the most famous use of the Sleep Walk progression is “Unchained Melody” by the Righteous Brothers, which is one of my favourite songs ever. The guy who chose to let Bobby Hatfield sing this one by himself must have kicked himself afterwards when it became a hit, much bigger than "You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling."https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qiiyq2xrSI0
What can you say about “Unchained Melody” that hasn’t already been said? God, that miraculously strong vocal, the way the strings (and later on, brass horns) are panned way over to the furthest reaches the left speaker while the drums and guitar are way over in the right, with the singing smack dab in the middle creates a kind of distance and sharp clarity that has never been reproduced in popular music, like seeing the skyscrapers of some distant city after an endless stretch of highway. After listening to “Unchained Melody,” one has to wonder: can that progression ever be improved upon? Can any artist write something more haunting, more beautiful, more uplifting than that? The “need your love” crescendo hits so fucking hard, as both the emotional and the sonic climax of the song, which of course is no accident...the strings descending and crashing like a waterfall of sound, it gets me every fucking time. Legend has it that King George II was so moved by the “Hallelujah” section of Handel’s “Messiah” that he stood up, he couldn't help himself, couldn't believe what he was hearing. I get that feeling with all my favourite songs. "1979." "Unchained Melody." "In The Still of the Night." "Digital Bath." "Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad?" "Interstate." "Liar's Tale." “Gimme Shelter.” The list goes on and on. Music is supposed to move us.
King George II stood because he was moved to do so. Music may be our creation, but it isn't our subordinate. All those sci-fi stories warning about technology growing beyond our control aren’t that far-fetched. Music is our creation but its power lies beyond our control. We are subordinate to music, helpless against its power and might, its urgency and vitality and beauty. There have been many times in my life when I have been so obsessed with a particular song that I pretty much want to live inside of it forever. A house of sound. I remember detoxing from heroin and listening to Grimes “Realiti” on repeat for twelve hours. Detoxing from OxyContin and listening to The Beach Boys “Dont Worry Baby” over and over. Or just being young and listening to “Tonight Tonight” over and over and over, tears streaming from my eyes in that way you cry when you’re a kid because you just feel so much and you don’t know what to do with the intensity of those feelings.
It is precisely because we are so moved by music that we keep creating it. And in the act of that creation we are free. There are no limits to that freedom, which is why bands time and time again return to the well-worn Sleep Walk chord progression and try to make something new from it. Back in 2006, soon after buying what was then the new Yeah Yeah Yeahs album, I found myself playing the album’s closing track over and over. I loved the chorus and I loved the way it collapses into a lo-fi demo at the very end, stripping away the studio sheen and...not to be too punny, showing its bones (the album title is Show Your Bones). Later on I would realize that the song, called “Turn Into,” uses the Sleep Walk chord progression. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=exqCFoPiwpk
It’s just like, what Waits said, our hands goes to where we are familiar. And so do our ears, which is why jazz often sounds so unpleasant to us upon first listen. Or Captain Beefheart. But it’s worth the effort to discover new stuff, just as it’s worth the effort to try and write it. I recently lamented on this blog that music to me now is more about remembrance than discovery, but I’m still only 35 years old. I’m middle-aged right now (I don’t expect to live past 70, not with the lifestyle I’ve been living). There’s still a whole other half life to find new music and love and leave it for still newer stuff. It’s worth the challenge, that moment of inner resistance we feel when confronted with something new and challenging and strange sounding. The austere demands of adult life, rent and routine, take so much of our time. I still make time for creative pursuits, but I don’t really have much time for discovery, for seeking out new music. But I’ve resolved to start making more time.
A few years ago I tried to listen to and like Trout Mask Replica but I couldn’t. I just didn’t get what was going on. It sounded like a bunch of mistakes piled on top of each other. But then a few days ago I was writing while listening to music, as I always do, and YouTube somehow landed on Lick My Decals Off, Baby. I didn’t love what I was hearing but I was intrigued enough to keep going. And now I really like this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EMnd9dvb3sA&pbjreload=101
Another example I’ll give is the rare Robert Pollard gem “Prom Is Coming.” The first time I heard this song, it sounded like someone who can’t play guitar messing around, but the more I heard it the more I realized there’s a song there. It’s weird and strange, but it’s there. The lyrics are classic Pollard: Disregard injury and race madly out of the universe by sundown. Pollard obviously has a special place in his heart for this track. He named one of his many record labels Prom Is Coming Records and he titled the Boston Spaceships best-of collection Out of the Universe By Sundown.
I don’t know if I’ll ever become a Captain Beefheart megafan but I can hear that the man was doing something very strange and, at times, beautiful. And anyway, why should everything be easy? Aren’t some challenges worth meeting for the experience waiting on the other side of comprehension or acceptance?
I try to remember this now whenever I’m first confronted with new music, instead of vetoing it right away. Most of my favourite bands I was initially resistant to when I first heard them. Queens of the Stone Age, Kyuss, Guided by Voices, Spoon, Heavy Times. All bands I didn’t like at first.
I don’t wanna sleepwalk through life, surrounding myself only with things I have already experienced. I need to stay awake. Because soon enough I’ll be asleep forever. We need to try everything we can before the Big Sleep comes to take us back to the great blankness, the terrible question mark that bookends our lives.
#sleep walk#santo & johnny#neil young#queen#dwight yoakam#led zeppelin#the beatles#betterdaysareatoenailaway
3 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
fiftyyearfilms
Fifty Year Films
theotherendcomics
The Other End
theartmage
The Art Mage
mikareo
.𖥔 ݁ blingblingbling ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑