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#was this an excuse to draw u and mike. yes
frankenbridez · 3 months
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HELLO!!!
HERE-! CATCH! *throws this at you*
🌸✨💓THIS IS A TUMBLR HUG! 🧚🏾‍♀️ PASS IT ON AND HAVE A LOVELY DAY! ~♡ (´。• ᵕ •。`) ♡
🩷🩷🩷✨✨
JAZZYYYY >3< 💘💫 (STRETCHES OUT MY ARMS BUT GETS SHOVED BY...)
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m0chisenpai · 6 months
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sprung
˚。⋆ mike schmidt x black!fem!reader
in which mike finds himself sprung for the school's librarian that abby raves about. the iconic sunshine x grumpy pairing
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Mike would love to know just what was enough to catch Abby's attention in school for her to leave her backpack at school, and just what possessed him not to check her as soon as she hopped into the car. Now here he was having to do an entire u-turn and rush back to the school before the teachers left out.
Thankfully a teacher was walkign to her car right when Mike had shoved his car into two parking spots and jumped out the car with Abby trying to keep up.
"Leave something behind?" The woman asked offering Mike a sympathetic smile.
"Yeah, uh do you know if Ms/Y/L/N is still here?"
"Oh yes, she keeps the library open just a bit for the stragglers." The woman gives Mike the directions but Abby takes the lead immediately, her hand pulling Mike along as he tries to avoid the looks of teachers brushing by.
"She's super duper nice. On Fridays she lets us get a treat from her jar and read, I sit on the pillows by the window cause it gets warm and I take a nap......"
It's unusually quiet for an elementery school, save for Abby's stories, till they reach a pair of open doors and a voice that could only be attributed to warm milk and honey pulls him into the library. It smells of aged books, the late afternoon night pours through the windows which are filled with plants and crafts.
Abby disappears through one of the rows of the bookcases and Mike finds himself trying to as quietly as he can catch his sister. "Abby!" but one of the kids shushes him and he grumbles sharply whispering for his sister again.
When he's finally out the maze of books he's in front of a carpeted area where children sat on a plush grassy green carpet watching who he assumed was Ms.Y/L/N. She was anything but what Mike expected her to look like.
Librarians were suppose to be mean old grannies. Old women who looked decades old and bitter. Not beautiful angels with a voice like yours that read the frayed fairytale book that you held with the most absolute of care balanced upon your crossed knees with poised grace.
Your glasses sat too perfectly on the curve of your nose. Your hair was pulled into a low bun in the back but your bangs were curly and framed your face.
"Nothing would be what it is because everything would be what it isn't. And contrariwise, what it is, it wouldn't be, and what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?"
Your eyes looked up and fell onto Mike who sheepishly held up his hand in a pathetic excuse of a wave which you enthusiastically returned. You dropped a bookmark in the book and leaned forward.
Had he known he would be meeting this mysterious beauty he would have made an attempt to shave and fix his mess of a curls that sat disheveled on his head.
"Alright loves, silent read for me while I help this new friend out ok? Or you can rest your eyes in your bubbles" the children disperse or cozy themselves into worn beanbags or at small tables littered with crayons and half finished pictures.
You stand up and meet Mike halfway with a warm smile, "how can I help you sir?"
"My sister left her bag here" Mike whispers and you hum with a tilt of your head.
"What's her name?"
"Abby."
"Ahh so you're the infamous brother in her pictures" your smile lights up. "She speaks so highly of you. And her drawings are filled with you too." Mike gives a nod and his lips turn upward into what he hopes is a charming smile though it feels more like a grimace and he hopes that he isn't screwing this up.
Geez what was she telling you, Abby had no filter on her mouth. She spoke mind freely. A bit too freely, but at least she was opening up more. "She's not giving you much trouble is she?"
You quickly wave a hand between accompanied with a shake of your head. "Not at all, Abby's a wonderful girl. Lovely imagination too, i couldn't imagine her being any trouble at home."
"You should see her after school" and your giggle gives Mike hope back that you aren't convinced he's some grumpy parent. "She talks about you all the time." That definitely didn't sound stalkerish.
"Good things I hope?" You ask holding his gaze. And he smiles a small step closer.
"All good, and then some." And now you're finding yoursef, pulled into those big warm brown eyes. Is he leaning in? Are you? You don't know, because you're snapped out this trance from the fast pitter patter of feet.
"Got my bag Mike!" Abby skips over to his side. "Thank you for the extra book Ms.Y/L/N" she steps forward wrapping you in a hug whihc you quickly return.
"Of course, let me know what you think of the ending I think you'll love it" you give her a playful wink. "And it was a pleasure meeting you,Mr.Schmidt."
"Call me Mike."
"Alright, until we meet again Mike" and you turn on your heel to return to your seat, a gentle sway to your hips, legs crossed with the book resting on your knee once again. Abby has to tug on Mike's hand multiple times to get him to finally turn his back. Your gentle voice continuing to read the fairy tale.
"She's single ya know?" Abby hums as she swings their arms.
"Mind your business" Mike grumbles and Abby only giggles. Cause when she looks up at her brothers face, he's got a sense of relief in his eyes at this piece of information.
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soulwillower · 3 years
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cleaning the room • richie tozier
(richie tozier x reader smut)
requested:  heyyy i love your work!! can i maybe request a Richie smut where their like in the middle of doing “it” but then someone calls the reader (maybe bev or eddie or sumn) and instead of stopping richie keeps going and so she has to continue the call and pretend like shes not in the middle of such unholy acts haha sorry if its too specific,, thank you!!!
warnings: swearing, smut, spitting, v light cum play, light light slapping (reader smacks richie bc theyre frustrated he was teasing them), unprotected sex, risky sex, talking on the phone w someone, use of the words whore/slut, degradation, this has literally no plot its all smut LOL
heyyy finally bback w a fic, i have awful writers block so this was all i could do. hope u guys like it
[ 18+ ]
1.8k words
"richie," you purr, sighing with lust as your boyfriend's hands pull your hips harder towards his own, arching your back as his hand rises to gently push you down against the mattress. he hums, leaning down to kiss your lips hard, thrusting into you as your back rubs the sheets under you. 
richie leans back and his mouth opens to murmur something to you, but a ringing noise makes you jolt. both of you turn to look at your phone, which has lit up with the call from someone. richie sighs and you groan, arm reaching out to grope around for the phone as your other hand threads into richie's hair, tugging him as he slowly eases on his thrusts. 
"oh, god," you say, half moaning as richie's strokes slow, changing angles as he looks down at you with mischevious eyes. "it's eddie." you add, tossing your phone to the edge of the bed.
 richie hums, pulling out of you and grabbing the phone. you whine, looking at him, "no, please keep going, i can call him back later." you beg, desperate to feel richie again. richie raises his brows, "you know he'll just keep calling." 
you lean back, sighing because you know richie's right. "fuck you richie. fine." and then you snatch the phone, pressing the answer button. "hey, wh-what's up?" you ask, breathing slightly heavily. 
"hey, i was wondering what your plans are later. we need to get some supplies for the party." eddie says cheerfully, and you swallow. god, couldn't he have called any other time? at least this will be quick. 
you jolt but keep quiet as you feel richie's fingers gently run through your slick folds, thumb teasing your clit. you let out a short whine and gulp, "oh, uh, yeah i can-can hang out later, just not now-" you swallow. your face feels on fire, excited by the idea of possibly being caught. 
"you okay, y/n?" eddie asks genuinely, sounding concerned. you bite your lip so hard you think it may draw blood as you gasp, "yeah, just...not feeling good." you say, sharply inhaling as richie quietly chuckles. you send him a glare. 
"richie and i are c-cleaning his room and there's... it's hard work." you mutter breathlessly as you go up on one elbow, eyeing richie as he smirks, his hand trailing down to stroke his cock. you barely resist a moan as you watch him, biting your lip as you wish you could have him in your mouth. 
"okay..." eddie says absently, immediately dismissing your excuse as he launches into a conversation with you asking about what you're bringing to mike's surprise party on saturday. you're biting your lip as you fall back onto the mattress, heart racing as you think back to twenty seconds ago when richie's cock was inside you. "-and, you know, i think richie's bringing weed and some handles, but maybe if you still have your fake you could try and get us some-" 
but you accidentally cut eddie's sentence off with a sharp gasp tailed with a moan, because as you were listening to eddie, richie lined himself back up to your entrance and pushed straight into you.
your eyes are wide as you stare at richie, watching as he winks at you, finger going to his lips in a shush motion. you hate how immediate your shivers of lust flow through you, as richie starts to slowly thrust into you again. you roll your eyes but your face heats up as eddie's voice breaks the silence over the phone, "y/n, wh... -are you sure you're doing fine?" 
you pull your hand off your mouth, "yes! yes, i just-" you cough to cover up a moan as richie spits down onto your dripping cunt and starts to thrust harder, "i stubbed my fucking toe." richie's smirking darkly at your words, looking down at you as his large hand creeps up your body, splaying across your breasts and then to your neck, ghosting a squeeze before slipping a finger into your open, panting mouth. 
his other hand finds purchase on the skin of your thighs and he winks at you, moving his hips and hitting the perfect spot inside you. the pleasure you feel has your eyes falling back, toes curling. 
"oh. well make sure if it's bad that you ice it, because one time my ma stubbed her toe and she had to stay in bed for a week," and then eddie launches into a quick story and you hum along to make it seem like you're listening even though all you can think about is richie and how his hand is tweaking your nipples, splaying across your sternum, as you suck on his fingers. 
then he pulls his fingers out of your mouth and presses them to your clit, rubbing in a pattern that has you seeing stars. 
"-wait, you said you're with richie?" eddie asks and you cough, throat caught after having richie's hand on it, "yes, he's- he’s right here." you say breathlessly. 
"can you let me ask him something?" 
your eyes widen and you gasp a bit, making eye contact with richie. "s-sure, here he is."  richie's giddy face as he grabs the phone from you makes you nervous, but you bite your lip as he mutters, "hey, eds." 
it's quiet for a bit as eddie's voice drawls along on the other line and suddenly richie's pushing your legs up towards your shoulders and speeding up his thrusts, the deep angle almost making you scream in pleasure. his hand falls over your mouth, keeping you quiet as he leans over you, pumping into you and making tears of pleasure form in the corner of your eyes. 
richie mutters, “mhm? yeah, yeah.” to eddie, but the sultry way he’s staring at you and the way your nails are raking down his back make you wonder if the words are also for you. 
"yeah, she's helping me out, she's always so good like that." richie says, voice shockingly even for the way that he's fucking you into your mattress. and yeah, that definitely is for you. 
 the desperation and pleasure creep up on you alarmingly quick and you can't help the whimpers that quietly escape you - you thank god for the loud fan in your room to cover your noises. 
richie hums to eddie a few more times, then he slaps your thigh gently as you try to close your legs from the pleasure, knowing when you cum you won't be able to keep quiet. it makes you feel even closer, though. "yeah, eds, i can do that. now listen, i got something important to finish off here so i'm going to give you back to my girl." 
you bite your lip, feeling warm as you squirm under richie's touch, hands shakily taking the phone back from him and then richie’s kneeling above you, fucking you down into the mattress and filling you up fully. "eddie," you gasp, "i also have to go, i'll - i'll call you later?" you say, trying your hardest to hold off your orgasm as richie spits on your chest, licking and biting and leaving a love bite in the same spot as he thrusts hard into you. 
"sure, bye y/n!" eddie chirps.
and then the second your finger presses the off button you're a begging mess, eyes screwing shut as you reach up to grip richie's neck. his hands push your knees up towards your head, hitting a spot that has you clenching around him, legs shaking as your chest stutters.
 "please, richie, god, i'm going to kill you for that." you hiss, causing him to grin, "i fucking hate you, i hate you." you mutter, smacking his cheek lightly. the grin after you leave the smack makes you even closer to the edge, and his hands grip your tits as he leans towards your ear. 
his strokes are hitting you deep and hotly as he chuckles, "you liked it. i saw it in your face. pathetic desperation. i can feel it." he whispers against your clammy skin, his fingers brushing against your slick heat as he mutters. your cheeks are hot in embarrassment, and you whimper in need. 
you bite your lip hard, resisting a moan as a sharp cry falls from your lips, shaking as you beg, "richie, just - please, let me cum. please." 
"you're so pretty when you beg, look at you. perfect little whore, talkin' on the phone to my best friend while i fuck you." he mutters, hand caressing your burning cheek as you whimper. "all mine, so eager and willing to do whatever i want."  
you nod, "yes, i'm yours, just - please, please." you whimper. "please say i can cum."
he smiles as he kisses your nose, "would you do whatever i want?” 
you stutter an exhale, “yes! fuck, richie, yes, yes i would. i’m yours.” 
he smiles, “cum, then." you do after the next three thrusts, shaking and gasping and calling richie's name. the euphoria rushes through your body and makes your eyes roll back, chest rising and falling as richie rides you through your high. 
only a minute later, richie pulls out of you, hand moving to pump himself. "my perfect slut." he mutters as you sit up slightly on shaky elbows, tongue out and mouth open as you pant, richie's hand moving in quick movements as he chases his own high. then he's grabbing your neck and pulling you toward him, moans leaving his lips as he cums in spurts onto your open tongue and down your chin, a bit dripping onto your chest. his thumb caresses you, opening your mouth wider and smearing his cum on your lips, wiping it from your tits and slapping them lightly, pinching your nipples and making you grin up at him. 
and his chest is heaving as he smiles down at you, shaking his head as you swallow his cum, "christ, you're perfect doll." you tug his arms so that he falls down onto you and you're both chuckling as you become a tangled mess of limbs and beating hearts and blushy cheeks, sticky bodies cuddling close. 
"he's going to find out." you say after a few seconds. richie hums, "what makes you say that, sugar? it's not like you were all 'richie, fuck me harder, please, yes!' while you were on the phone. that was only after." he teases, and you smack his chest lightly, "shut the fuck up, richie. i hate you." you say through a laugh. he's laughing too as he pulls you even closer, kissing your hairline, "i love you so much, y/n." he says, smiling giddily. 
you pull his chin to you, kissing him sweetly. "i love you too, richie. but eddie's going to your place later, he's going to see that we didn't clean the room." 
richie laughs, shrugging as he runs a hand through his messy curls, "let 'em guess. it's funnier that way." and then he's kissing you, rolling on top of you and tickling your sides as you scream and squeal. 
tag list:  @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings  @stenbrozier  @sft-core @clownsloveyou  @moon-shine-baby  @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @chl0bee  @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @groovybimbo @deepestofwaters @unfortu-nate-ly  @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslutter @babytortie  @decafcoffeew @etaerealboy
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franki-lew-yo · 3 years
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I really hate 2d purists. No, not 2d animation. Not 2d animators.
2d purists.
The sad thing is it’s gotten to the point that I really cringe hearing any pro-2D sentiment at all. I hate the arguments I agree with because how often they're misused and weaponized by idiots.
Let me make my stance here clear - 2d is NOT appreciated and 3d is used for everything! The layman Karen-mom who doesn’t have an artistic bone in her body looks at stupidsmooth 3D Grubhub ads and assumes quality cause it “looks more real” (aka ‘rendered’). I know as much is true because I literally have a member of my family who told my sister and I that she thinks 3d is better (and also that she “tolerated THOSE movies for us kids”. Touching words. My sister was taking an animation course by the way). Combined that with the studios either using 2D for cheap stuff or finding good 2d animation too “costly”, I get it and I’m not even any animator. I'm just a worm an illustrator.
but holy HELL -
There’s a backlash from the artistic community that's it's own kind of insufferable and deserve to be addressed.
“(insert2Danimatedfilm) is better BECAUSE it's 2D!”
followed by: "Animation is a visual medium and the quality of the art affects how much the story means !!!!”  
Yes. Totally. Animation is a visual medium and the look and style is important. Sadly, people use this excuse to really obnoxious ends, insisting that design being pretty is '' everything ''. When you treat a movie more as a special effects demo I get why you talk about the artistry at hand; but I’m sorry, visuals are not the only thing important and it’s why I’m also getting sick of the sameElsafacesyndrome rants too! There’s this attitude that's reads as "but it LOOKS better fromaproductionimage/teasertrailerwhichapparentlyisindicativeof all themovieactuallyis so it MUST BE better".
-“3D should only be used to make things look realistic!”
I think I know the logic this criticism is made in response to, and that’s the Sony + Illumination films which look just as good in 2D as they do in three dimensions. I know it feels like people are twisting this medium to try and make it like a classic cartoon when by all means people can and would love a classic cartoon being a classic cartoon. That I get- From the unsung 2D animator’s perspective, that’s more than valid !
But it’s a huuuuuuge slap in the face to 3d in saying it should only be used for "realistic animation" because
1: It’s not like realistic animation could age badly or look uncanny in the next few years. It's almost like technology is constantly improving, which I guess 2d animation never did and it was always the same technique and quality as every film that came after it.
2: The industry does treat 3d as a magic-moneymaker for this reason. Just listen to these people call the 2019 LION KING “live action” as if they’re embarrassed to call it animation. It IS animation! It would be impressive if you acknowledged that what it is, but like the CATS, you basically are treating it as just a neato tool to better your live action and not it's own artform - which it is!
3: By this “three-deeonly gud when real liek in da toystories” non-logic I guess 2d should ONLY be for flowyflowy SPACE JAM cartoons and maybe some Disney*. Just that though. You can’t do anything more with 2d. It’s never supposed to be realistic I guess. Good thing Richard Williams only did 'toons' and just toons that’s why we need 3d in the world I guess.
Wait no - that’s stupid.
"I HAVE to see the “Land Before Time 14″ when it comes out! I mean it’s a 2D animated film!"
Lost in the aether that is Youtube comment chains removed from kid's videos is a stream of this very VERY stupid argument supporting the buying of the 14th LAND BEFORE TIME film because it’s supporting 2D. My sister and I can be found on that chain arguing against this stupidity. All you have is my word, but trust me: it really did happen.
I’m sorry but...no.
Unless you have a friend or a family member who worked on these movies there’s no reason to see this and ESPECIALLY no reason to insist it’s a win for the 2D community if you buy up this crap - and I'm not judging if you do like it, but come on! LAND BEFORE TIME 14 isn't where your money should go if you really like this medium.
What’s so infuriating about this argument is you can tell it’s made by nonanimators. Real animators will tell you to support their movies cause they want some respect for their artform which is why there’s such a push from the PRINCESS AND THE FROGcrowd that you SEE and LOVE every 2d thing out there, regardless of how good it is because any recognition for it is k i n d o f what they're after!
Kiddy sequel schlock isn’t even in the same ballpark as KLAUS or WOLFWALKERS; these films DID have very limited theatrical runs (Klaus so it could be nominated; Wolfwalkers in places where theaters opened up after Covid) and should have been supported because they were labors of love made by people who love animation.
As other people have already pointed out, one of the reasons for the lack of interest in 2000sera2D animation is that the only films released alongside critical+financial 3D hits were cheaper 2D films that either coincided with daytime tv shows or should have been just direct-to-video. It’s not to say art couldn’t come out of these flicks, but dayum if it wasn’t abused as much as the texture software that era's CG used... Point being, should the world ever go back to normal: If you hear about an out-of-town showing an acclaimed 2D animated film, make time to trek out and see THAT!
Don’t give your money to see yet another made-for-tv movie on the big screen because all that tells the studio is: “yeah 2d IS cheap and only good for cheap stuff let’s just keep it cheap. Only 3d is important 8D 8D 8D !!!"
“I don’t understand how it works. So it sucks.”
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This text is from an ANIMATOR btw.
“I don’t understand how it works” and “it’s just some computer rendering” is the exact same wave of logic the people who prefer cgi use.
The plebian Karen I mentioned earlier? She understands the basics of 2D animation as much as you did from one of those cruddy flash classes you took in middle-school. She 'understands' the basics cuz she watched how it was made on the DVD features or maybe back on the WONDERFUL WORLD OF DISNEY. To her, the illusion is broken and she’s not impressed by 'just some drawings on paper'. You, an animator, know the process is more complicated and is intrigued by knowing how it’s made - not bored or disinterested -
Neither you nor Aunt Karen have really good cg-animation software at your house and unless you ARE a 3D animator you probably DON’T know all the ins-and-outs of how these movies are modeled, rendered, and animated.
Aunt Karen is bedazzled by them cause she doesn’t know how it works and the technical aspect makes her brain hurt so it might as well be magic and she can feel like a cool kid sharing Minion-memes. Aunt Karen is the nonartistic type who just wants to feel safe. You're not. You want to feel challenged.
I get it: you’re pissed off cause you’re in a field no one, including Aunt Karen, appreciates; told to work in cg which it's an artform you didn’t devote your life to and told to learn it cause THIS style sells! 3D is everywhere and is starting to look like 'garbage' even if you don’t animate 3D models yourself you just KNOW, I guess. Besides, you know all there is to know about 2d!! You know all there is to possibly know about this artform and have to fight this 'war' against "r e a l" animation! And I mean even when 3d software is there to use, it's not like you can actually make anything worth while in it, especially not anything that transcends the medium. Right Worthikids?
TL;DR: This argument is basically just " BWAAAAH I’M NOT GONNA USE IT I HAVE STANDARDS (a chip on my shoulder cuz art should be what I deem it to be) "
“PRINCESS AND THE FROG is-”
There’s a reason I can’t say I truly like PRINCESS AND THE FROG even though it's not even a bad movie! Like, stop reading this and watch PATF if you haven't it's good. It's my 'FROZEN', in that; I see a lot of potential in it I just think it needs some serious rewriting and that bugs me. Always have felt that way, tbh.
I dislike this movie because the response from the animation community seems to be it was perfect and the Academy was just Pixar-crazy with UP ((ftr, the Academy IS Pixar’s bitch and I personally advocate a sequel be made to WAKING SLEEPING BEAUTY about Mike Eisner’s sabotage of the 2D department at Disney which is still in place now!- but that’s a story for another day)). I’m sorry but UP was just a better story. So was CORALINE. So was FANTASTIC MR. FOX. Honest to god it feels like poor PATF is brought up as just a talking point and never for it's own worth as a labor of love - which it was! I'd like to honestly know: had PRINCESS AND THE FROG come out now and been cg if it would have even half the defenders for it because now it doesn't "look" like how a Disney movie "should" look...
If you like PatF more than the currant Disney lineup because of it's culture, it's music, it's feminism, it's black representation? Awesome. Great. Those things should be appreciated and I never want that taken away from you. But if you seriously think PatF is better just for how it was animated and looks - I lowkey may hate you.
“ALL OF DISNEY’S LATEST MOVIES SHOULD HAVE BEEN 2D! THEY ALL LOOK AWFUL IN 3D!! ALL OF THEM!”
TANGLED, FROZEN, and MOANA? Yeah. Sure. But um, e x c u s e y o u- WRECK IT RALPH sooooo doesn’t work in 2d! It could have used different between the various worlds but it’s about hopping through different video games. I’m also of the opinion that ZOOTOPIA and BIG HERO 6 are fine the way they are. Their 3d is awesome.
The latest fairy tale Disney films are really big on their place alongside the 2D canon esp in marketing. They keep trying to mimic 2D to varying results though I don't think it works as well as the movie's I'd previously mentioned. Me personally, I would love a mix of 3D and 2D technology, like if the backgrounds in FROZEN still got to be 3D but the characters were handdrawn and shaded ala KLAUS ((sweet sigh)). But even then are they truly unwatchable just based on how they're animated to you?
MOANA would have been incredible in 2D but for the record - I don't think it feels out of place in it's style. It reminds me more of a Pixar movie with the heart of a Disney classic which is it's own just as good.
“2D is the oldest form of animation and it’s being replaced.”
Actually, if we’re talking animation in film, stop motion is the earliest form of animation. The stop motion animated THE ADVENTURES OF PRINCE ACHMED and TALE OF THE FOX predate Disney’s SNOW WHITE. And yes: stop-motion IS still a form of animation even if it’s a serious of pictures taken of real life things and not drawings, so don’t you dare come at me with the "but that's not animated"/"Technically it’s LIVE ACTION" crap or I’ll envoke the spirit of Sandman to get you at night.
“Every animated film would look better in 2D! Even PIXAR would look better in 2D!”
Again, Stop Motion.
No, I mean it.
Lemme ask: Would ISLE OF DOGS or FANTASTIC MR. FOX carry any of the same effect if they were generic 90s toons? I know NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS wouldn’t. Christ, don’t even get me started on Svankmajer!
Sometimes the problem is that a movie is envisioned with a specific artform in mind. Pixar started out with toys and bugs for a reason and that’s cuz they were always gonna be a 3d studio and they needed to first overcome the placisity of the models. Over the years they’ve gotten really good at effects and blending unrealistic proportions with real textures (and also not so much- ONWARD and THE GOOD DINOSAUR really needed some different character designs and yeah, I do think would have looked better with a 2d artstyle, but not the ones they had in their films. THE GOOD DINOSAUR needed more realistic-speculative looking dinos and ONWARD needed a grittier HEAVY METAL/BLACK CAULDRON appeal to its designs.) My point being that the problems with these movies aren’t even inherently the animation as much as it is a problem of style. As someone who runs a group speculating different styles and designs for movies and tv shows I’m all for envisioning a 2D ZOOTOPIA or Bluth-inspired FNAF. That’s amazing!
But that’s also the talk of fan artists and nerds and not the professional artists working on visualizing their stories!!
Since I ate, slept, and breathed NIGHTMARE in my youth I’ll use it as an example: All the concept art ever done for TNBC was on paper and 2D was used in the final film. However, even when Tim Burton was thinking of making it just a tv special it was always going to be stop-motion. NIGHTMARE’s puppet cast do work very well in two dimensions, believe me, but the film was made as a love letter to Rankin/Bass and the art form of stop-motion. Skipping to another Henry Selick-helmed project (haha), JAMES AND THE GIANT PEACH was also always envisioned as a multimedia film to give it a truly dream-like atmosphere. If you know anything about Henry Selick you’ll know he’s 1) a perfectionist, and 2) loves mixed media and different types of animation and puppetry at once. That’s why he was the perfect pick to direct TNBC at the time, why JAMES AND THE GIANT PEACH and CORALINE are so beautiful and why MOONGIRL, his only fully 3d film, doesn’t have the same appeal.
As for what films I couldn’t imagine NOT being 3D? Probably; 9, Padak, Next Gen, Soul, Finding Nemo, the Toy Story films, Wreck-it-Ralph (as previously mentioned), Wall.E, Waltz with Bashir, Robots, Inside Out, Arthur Christmas, The Painting, Happy Feet, Shrek, Enter the Spiderverse, Megamind… just naming a few here.
“I want a traditionally animated film [and by that I mean a 90s-Disney/Don Bluth looking movie] of ‘x'-popular live action/stage thing!”
Okay I’m cheating a bit but it’s my blog and so I’m gonna stick this one in because it’s related.
When I see musings about wanting live-action or CGI shiz to be in 2d again a lot of the time this argument actually boils down to " I want this to look like a 90s Didney movie ". Or, if it’s about animals - " I want it to look like a Don Bluth film! "
Like...there ARE other styles of animation out there...you know that right?
Frack, Disney themselves tried different styles throughout the 90s it’s just that the peak of the Disney renaissance films (LITTLE MERMAID, BEAUTY AND THE BEAST, ALADDIN, THE LION KING) and the many imitators that followed tended to have the same look to them where only film/animation nerds kept watching into the era that was TARZAN, HERCULES, and ATLANTIS along with the kids. Aunt Karen wasn't singing Part of your World in the carride with you every day.
The Don Bluth argument is especially irritating because...what exact feeling do you WANT from a movie if it looked Bluthish? Each of the four ‘quintessential’ Bluth movies (NIMH, AMERICAN TAIL, LBT, and ALL DOGS) have such a different feel to them that’s complimented by that style; SECRET OF NIMH is a drama about wild animals trying to understand humans; LAND BEFORE TIME is even more squarely about an animal’s perspective as there’s literally no humans around; AMERICAN TAIL uses animals stowing away on the ship to tell a story about refugees; and ALL DOGS GO TO HEAVEN is ALL DOGS GO TO HEAVEN.
What the frack are you even asking for with that because I think there’s a certain flavor to the Bluth-styled oeuvre as well as the 90s Disney catalogue that would clash too much stylistically with some films.
Also come on! Like some Bluthian-style 2d would really fix THE SECRET LIFE OF PETS or SCOOB!, bite me.
I think this fixation solely on these two hand drawn styles and nothing else is based on nostalgia goggles, refusing to step outside the norm and discover different films and feelings than Disney and Bluth, and just preference. Goin back to NIGHTMARE there will always be a special place in my heart for Henry Selick’s stop motion, but I couldn’t imagine CHICKEN RUN or ANOMALISA in it's unique style.
Also I’m tired of every time there’s a "lets make an animatic to ‘x’ musical theater song" it’s reliably just Disneyesque or realistic. WHY envision an animated version of the show at all if it doesn’t have A STYLE to it??!?! I’m sorry but 90s-Disney does NOT fit CABARET!
“3D is so CHEAP now! Why can’t they just do 2D again?”
I think - on the cusp of the 2020s and the Grubhub hatedom, there ARE changing times ahead for 3d and 2d. The general public are starting to get tired of the same looking 3d films and wanting some 2d back, but they don’t have the best resources or opinions on animation to know what it is they want. Meanwhile, the animation community + industry is trying to figure out what to do and you have a lot of turmoil between the monopoly that is the industry, the high standards of the artists, and the mixed wants of the animation fanbase deciding what art needs to be.
It’s a tough business. And in the spirit of that tough business - maybe DON’T act like the means of a film’s production is solely your control, that you know best, and know definitively what the artists should have done....cuz you don't. Sorry my fellow criticalfanomanalysist-folks we DON'T and in an age of standom where fans and critics think it's okay to hackle indie animation studios about not getting their pitched cartoon out fast enough - we need to reserve these discussions to our circles and not treat them as gospel.
3d animation and 2d animation have to share this world. Stop acting like they’re either interchangeable in terms of budget, means of production, or artistry or that one has to be superior to the other.
The industry already says one art form is better (spoiler: it’s always live-action), we don’t need anymore of this purist garbage. Just stick to what you like while trying new things on the side. Be critical while also being compassionate. And remember:
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littlelasagne · 3 years
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Do u have a snippet of chapter 21 bmo 🥺
hi hi hi
sorry I've been quiet, work is still busy and by the evening I'm a tired bunny with square eyes. BUT don't fret I have been slowly but surely plodding away with the next chapters, and I'm hoping to upload by the end of the week.
here is a snippy
“I want something sweet,” Hange said, licking her fingers and scanning the food trucks.
“Look at me, Four Eyes,” Levi said. Hange turned. Mustard and ketchup, all around her mouth like it were face paint at a kid’s party. She showed it off with a cheesy grin, earning a tut from Levi. “Come here.” He wiped her mouth with a fresh napkin, using extra force to remove the drying sauces.
“Ow!” she protested so he grabbed the back of her neck. “You’re worse than my mum!”
“You’re worse than a baby…”
“There’s no graceful way to eat a fully-loaded hotdog! Ow, ow!”
“Yes there is.” He rubbed at her chin. “Do I look like a clown, right now?”
“You always do!”
“I want dessert too, there’s a crepe truck and a waffle truck back there,” Nanaba said, ignoring their minor squabble.
Levi folded up the dirty Zoë Hange napkin. “What do you want, Hange?”
“Crepes!”
“I’ll buy it for you.”
“No! I’m buying it, you already bought the hotdogs,” Hange said, her mouth and jaw now as rosy as her cheeks.
“I said, I’m buying it for you.” Levi reiterated with force.
“Huh.” Mike raised an eyebrow.
“A-and you, Banana, what do you want?” Levi added, looking down at his muddy shoes.
“Excuse you! I said I’m buying it! It’s like, five pounds! I don’t need a stinker like you!” Hange stuck her tongue out at him, then grabbed Nanaba, and dragged her away through the crowd.
Stinker. Right. That was a new one. He stared after them. She frolicked away towards the flashing rides, her scruffy ponytail swayed and flicked hypnotically.
Mike cleared his throat. It reverberated up Levi’s spine and smacked his brain, bringing him back to reality. He turned his head up ever so slightly. Mike smirked down at him.
Levi said nothing.
Mike said nothing.
Silence burned between them. Mike’s gaze scorched the top of Levi’s head. Levi slowly put his gloves back on, drawing it out finger by finger... Please don’t say anything…
“So.”
“Shut up.”
“You are so, so, so, gone.”
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kmcarras · 3 years
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Excuse a little thing !!! Could you make a mini summary of what happened before eddie came to the forest to surprise 🤭. Like how beverly convinced eddie to go, where eddie was or how richie planned everything, confessing it to his friends ... You understand me?? 🤔 Thank you!! one of the best fan arts of richie and eddie 🤗🤗❤️ (you don't need to draw it) or I leave you free to do whatever you want 😉
yes for sure!! there are certain things i don’t want to get into too specifically bc i would like to extend this au into a fic, and some of that would be covered there, as well as certain things may get revealed in the storyboard, but i’ll give u a summary of things that aren’t too incredibly spoilery, many of which i’ve told folks in livestreams already on IG etc.
beverly has had her eye on eddie for awhile. she feels a special bond with him due to circumstances that i can’t explain without spoiling the fic too much, but she essentially knows things about him that she shouldn’t know and therefore empathized with him in a way that he is honestly creeped out by. he is convinced that she is being a stalker or at the very least up to no good, and he is struggling with bullying at school, so he doesn’t assume positive intent and does not trust her. after her struggling with him getting to open up to her and that going nowhere, she decides to try from a different angle. she targets richie instead, figuring she can play matchmaker. both richie and eddie have some misogynistic tendencies that are irritating to her, but she muscles through because she still cares about them. richie also doesn’t really trust bev at this point, but he at least acknowledges her in insults and teasing and calls her molly ringwald vs eddie who just tries to shut her down. she ropes ben in bc she feels like he can be trusted, she has figured out he will do just about anything for her, and richie will see ben as less of a threat to open up to vs someone like bill or stan where there are too many years of history of friendship on the line. she and ben meet up with richie to form a plan. (also she is able to be there even tho she’s not living there bc her school doesn’t have summer vacation but has long breaks during the school year instead so her aunt is cool and takes her to derry to see her friends.) they plan for richie to ask eddie to the dance in the woods, but he keeps fucking it up trying to ask, and it’s because he’s so nervous because eddie is clearly in a downer mood. a lot is going on with eddie. he is being bullied at school. his birthday just came and went and he normally gets a vhs from his dad posthumously each year, and that didn’t happen this year. he’s just having a really hard time. so the little team has to pivot. bev tells ben “ok plan b, u guys gotta tell everyone to go stag. that way eddie will get all dressed up to go, and i’ll do the heavy lifting of getting him to actually come out to the woods. you guys just gotta ASK him since i’m not at your school right now.” and so at lunch time, richie is supposed to ask while he’s at the group’s lunch table, but he’s too chicken shit bc he just witnessed eddie getting bullied before they sat down to eat and he knows how upset eddie is. so ben stops making eyebrows at richie to do it and jumps in and saves the day. he tells everyone what they should do. stan is like “... ehhhh. i guess, if we all go...” and bill is in, and ben is in, and eddie is silent. and eddie is like “i’m not really in the mood for going to a dance.” and ben is shooting darts at richie like “FUCKIN SAY SOMETHING!!” and richie stops choking and says “i’m gonna go! come on, we will all go together. this is my first dance too; we should have our first dance be together.” and eddie is like “...ok” and is a little hopeful about it. but everyone agrees it’s dumb bc it’s the sadie hawkins dance, but they do it anyway. so eddie, the more he thinks about it, the more he starts to get excited about it. he picks himself out an outfit that he’s really excited about and he’s starting to have optimistic expectations. and then his mom “accidentally” shrinks ALL of his formal wear at the dry cleaners. “oh no eddie bear, guess u can’t go.” and all eddie is left with that sort of resembles formal wear is his old boy scouts uniform. so he dons that, takes off the vest, and pairs it with some suspenders bc go figure all his bow ties and ties are gone too. so yeah, they really are short shorts. then he sneaks out his window and shows up to the dance, where stan immediately snorts at his appearance. ok so, bill and bev are dancing (not stag). mike doesnt go to the school and doesn’t have a date to bring him there like bev did, so he’s not there. and ben and richie are MIA. so it’s just stan and eddie in a corner. and eddies like “where is everyone?!” and stan is like “WHAT AM I CHOPPED LIVER?!” >>>
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urdearestmom · 3 years
Text
Home Is Whenever I’m With You
hello y'all yes i'm back again with another one shot about the wheelers. the duffel bags do not give me enough content so i have to make it myself
this was inspired by the scene from s3e7 where Holly notices the trees moving and karen tells her to ignore it but we know that it's the damn monster headed to eat her siblings and their friends!! i thought it would be interesting to explore what might've happened if she had actually seen it given that she also almost got SNATCHED by the demogorgon in s1... holly seems to have the ability to notice the supernatural without getting involved in it. her siblings could learn from her
eventually it evolved into a bit more of something else, which actually ended up being the larger portion of this lol but this was mostly just an excuse for me to write wheeler sibling bonding anyway
hope you enjoy and please let me know what you thought!!
Sometimes she dreamed of monsters. A lot of the time they kind of looked like the purple man from McDonald's commercials, which was only a little scary. But sometimes they were very scary, because they looked like a giant spider.
A really, really big spider that wasn't really a spider. She had been the only one to see it even though her parents were right there with her. It made her even more scared to see the tiny spiders that appeared inside her house.
The first time she dreamed about the spider monster she had told her mother, but her mother said that it was only a dream and all the spiders where they lived were very small. She could go back to sleep.
She did, but Holly knew it wasn't only a dream. She saw it, even if her mother didn't believe her.
The second time she dreamed about the spider monster, Mommy came back to bed with her and told her a story about a princess locked inside a tower and it made her forget all about it.
After that, Holly didn't think about the spider monster for a while, until one day when she was watching TV by herself in the living room while her brother made sandwiches for them in the kitchen. Mommy and Daddy and Nancy weren't home. The episode of Jem and the Holograms she was watching was just getting to the good part when she saw a little spider with very long legs crawling across the sofa towards her.
She screamed and scrambled away from it. "There's a spider!"
Her brother came running in with a piece of paper towel. "Where is it?"
Holly pointed nervously at the sofa and watched as Mike stared at it for a moment before smacking the paper towel down really fast. He lifted it away and Holly shrunk further into the corner of the room.
"Why are you so afraid of them? They're just spiders," he said.
"They're creepy," she replied. Then she remembered what she saw at the fair in the summer and shivered a little bit. "And scary."
"Well, it's ok, I got it," said Mike. "I'll catch all your spiders for you, Hol."
He went back to the kitchen but Holly sat on the floor and thought about what he said. Mike was a big kid but he wasn't big like Mommy or Daddy yet, so maybe he knew about spider monsters too. Plus, he always liked to tell her stories with magic people who fought monsters. Maybe there was one where the magic people beat all the spider monsters in the world.
The next time Holly dreamed about the spider monster, she dreamed about it coming to her house. It didn't come by itself this time, there was another monster that wanted to come out of the wall. She didn't see it because she ran away but she knew it was the bad one from her other dream. The spider monster was walking in the trees outside, just like she saw it walking in the trees close to the fair, waiting for her family to come out so it could eat them. Her sister Nancy had a big stick that she was going to hit the monster with, and Mommy and Daddy wanted Holly to hide with them where it couldn't see them. She didn't know where Mike was, and she was afraid the monster had already eaten him.
Right as the spider monster was about to smash the window of the room she was hiding in, Holly woke up. Her heart was beating fast and she felt scared. She was cold under her blankets and her room was full of shadows that she didn't like, so she got up and went to the door. The hallway wasn't as dark because there was a little bit of light from a streetlight outside that came through the window, so Holly was able to see where the door to her brother's room was.
She looked down the hall and thought about Mommy again, but Mommy had already told her that the spider monster wasn't real. Mommy wouldn't understand. But Mike said he would catch all the spiders for her. Maybe he would believe her about the monster.
Holly pushed open the door across from hers and tiptoed in, holding on tight to her teddy. Mike's room was full of shadows too.
"Mike?" She whispered. "Are you 'sleep?"
"No," answered his voice from the darkness. Suddenly, light filled up the room and Holly had to block her eyes. "Holly?"
He had turned on his lamp and now he was looking at her like he didn't know why she was there. "What's wrong?"
Holly looked back at him. He looked very tired; she noticed. Maybe she should go away and let him sleep. She played with her teddy's ear.
"I had a bad dream," she announced.
His shoulders slouched and Holly thought he looked a lot smaller like that. "Do you want Mom?"
She shook her head.
"You want me?"
She nodded quickly and dragged her feet across the carpet to stand next to him.
"Do you want to tell me about it?" He asked. "It's ok, you can sit up here," he added, patting the spot next to him.
Holly sat. "It's about the spider monster."
Her brother was quiet for a second. "The spider monster?"
She looked up at him and nodded again. "I dreamed about it before but Mommy told me it wasn't real. Spiders here are small."
Mike seemed to agree. "They are. But you said it's a monster, right?"
"Do you think monsters are real?"
He was quiet again, but Holly wanted an answer. If even Mike didn't think monsters were real, she didn't know who else would believe her.
She squeezed her knees up to her chest, squishing her teddy. "Are they real, Mikey?"
He made a strange noise. He almost sounded like he was going to laugh. "I think a lot of monsters aren't real, like zombies. But some are. Real scary ones, too. Do you think the spider monster is real?"
Holly thought about what she'd seen. It was very real. "Yes," she said. "I saw it."
Mike made a face. "Hold on, you saw it?"
"It was really scary," she told him. "I saw it in the trees and Mommy didn't believe me. She told me to look at the fireworks, but now I dream about it coming to eat us."
"Fireworks…" Her brother's eyes widened. "Where were you?"
"At the fair," she said quietly. "Did you see it too?"
Mike got up and went to his desk. Holly stared at him as he got a pencil and paper and started drawing something. Why didn't he answer? A few seconds later, he came back to his bed.
"Holly, I don't want to scare you, but you have to tell me, okay?" He held the paper in front of her. "Does the spider monster look like this?"
The paper had a bad picture of it, but it was a picture of the spider monster. How did he know what it looked like?
Holly looked at her brother again. He looked like maybe he was a little bit scared too.
"Yeah," she said. "You saw it?"
He took the paper back and covered his face with a hand.
"Yes," he replied. "Nancy saw it too."
Even Nancy knew the spider monster was real? But Nancy was a big girl like their mommy!
Holly slipped off the bed. "Can we go talk to her?"
Mike looked at her. "I mean, she's probably asleep but we can go see."
The two of them went out quietly and opened Nancy's door down the hall. Nancy was asleep, so Mike told Holly to be quiet while he woke her. He turned on her lamp.
"Nancy," he whispered, and poked her. "Nancy."
When she didn't move, Mike turned around and made a funny face at Holly. It made her forget about why she was awake for a little bit when she almost laughed.
"She's really asleep."
"Can we pour water on her face?" Asked Holly.
"What? No. Why would we do that?"
"To wake her up!"
Nancy shifted on her bed and they both looked at her. Mike poked her again.
"Nancy! Wake up." He started poking her faster, and then she sat up.
"What?!"
"Shhhhhhh!" Said Holly, holding a finger to her lips like she learned at school.
Nancy scrunched her eyebrows. "Holly?" She looked at their brother. "Did something happen?"
"Kind of," he said.
"I had a bad dream," Holly told them. "About the spider monster. Mike said you saw it too."
"The spider monster…?"
Holly watched as a look passed between Mike and Nancy, and then Nancy said, "Oh. The spider monster."
Holly walked closer and then her brother picked her up and sat her between himself and Nancy.
"Can you tell us about your dream, Holly?" He asked. Nancy rubbed her eyes and sat up straighter.
Holly didn't like to think about the spider monster, but she had to tell them. If they knew about it too, maybe they could help her not be scared of it. Besides, Mike had said he would catch her spiders for her and Nancy was even bigger than he was, so Holly knew they would keep her safe. As long as she stayed with her big brother and sister, she would be okay.
"It was outside," she started. "Hiding in the trees. And it wanted to eat us, and Nancy had a big stick to hit it and Mommy and Daddy wanted me to hide with them."
"Where was I?" Asked Mike.
Holly shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it ate you already."
Nancy wrapped an arm around Holly. "Did it get you?"
She shook her head. "No. I woke up."
Her siblings shifted around her, the three of them sinking further into Nancy's soft mattress. "Well, that's okay then," said Nancy. "You're safe here."
"Yeah," added their brother. "We saw the monster get killed, okay, Holly? It can't hurt you."
Holly looked up at him in wonder. "You killed it?" He was really telling the truth about catching all the spiders if he did.
He shook his head. "We helped," he said, looking at Nancy. "It wasn't just us, but the monster is gone now, so you don't have to worry about it anymore."
With that explanation, she felt better. Maybe she could go to sleep now. She snuggled into her brother's side, sandwiching Nancy's hand between them. "Can I sleep with you?"
Nancy sat back on her bed again, moving her hand as Mike stood up with Holly, keeping her tucked close to him. "Yeah, of course," he said to her.
They looked at their sister from where they stood in the doorway. "Good night, Nance," said Mike.
Nancy had a strange look on her face. "Good night." She stopped. "I love you guys."
Holly didn't look at him but she thought Mike's voice sounded funny when he said it back, and then he shut the door behind them and led her back through the darkness to his bedroom.
_______________________
For some reason, Holly had always looked up to her brother. She wasn't sure why because as she got older, she came to realize that he was a hardass a lot of the time and also about the nerdiest person she'd ever met and the only cool thing about him was his wife. She was miles cooler than him, but then Holly guessed maybe she felt that way because El had been around for as long as she could remember and she thought of her as a sister. In many ways, Holly was closer to her sister-in-law than her actual sister.
Nevertheless, there was always something exciting about hearing that Mike was going to come visit. He went away to college when she was nine and never moved back, but her entire childhood was filled with memories of him. She didn't have a lot of friends when she was little, and she adored her brother because he told her stories and played house with her and took her out for milkshakes and candy whenever he could. Maybe she wouldn't voice it right in front of Nancy, but if asked Holly would say without hesitation that Mike was her favourite sibling.
It was difficult to be close to either of them given their age gaps, but Nancy had always seemed less like her sister and more like a cool aunt or something. The one you only saw on holidays, and even then only sometimes. Mike and El visited pretty frequently since they didn't live too far away and El liked to see her parents often, but Holly couldn't recall the last time she had seen Nancy. Honestly, Holly barely remembered her, so it was a bit shocking to hear that both of her siblings were coming to Hawkins at the same time. She figured it was probably so their parents could tell all three of them at once about the divorce she was sure they were getting.
Her mom liked to pretend everything was fine and her dad was pretty much always asleep, but Holly was fifteen years old and she was more perceptive than she let on. Her parents could avoid it however they liked, but it didn't mean she didn't pick up on the constant tense atmosphere of their house. Sometimes she wished she could disappear off the face of the Earth like her sister seemed to have done, and other times she wished she was seven again, so her brother could take her away for an afternoon of sweet treats where she could forget about everything that worried her.
It was with trepidation that she answered the door when the bell rang, her mother occupied in the kitchen and her father, as usual, asleep in the living room. Her brother and sister stood awkwardly on the other side, having arrived together.
"Hi, Holly!" Said Nancy, stepping forward to hug her. It was a little stiff but Holly let her do it, figuring it was best not to start this visit with more tension between members of the family than necessary. She stared at Mike over their sister's shoulder, finding him staring back at her and fiddling with his wedding band. Holly knew he did that whenever he was thinking about his wife when he wasn't with her, but she thought it was strangely ironic given what the night's dinner was clearly about. She wondered if he had seen it coming, not having lived in the house full-time for the last six years.
Did either of them know or would it be a shock? No, she thought, all three of them had a penchant for knowing things. Wheelers didn't fake it 'til they made it; they saw the truth all along and avoided it until they couldn't anymore.
"Dinner's almost ready," was what she chose to say, stepping back to let her siblings into the house.
Nancy set down her purse and walked into the kitchen, leaving Holly and Mike by the door. She could tell he wanted to say something, but was having trouble making his voice work.
Finally, he said, "This is what I think it is, isn't it?"
Why else would they have asked Mike and Nancy to come together but leave their spouses at home? Holly shrugged passively. "They haven't told me anything, but probably."
And she was right. Over the familiar meal of chicken and potatoes, in the familiar setting of a family dinner that felt anything but, their mother announced to them that their parents were getting a divorce. They had never been the picture-perfect, wholesome family that Karen Wheeler had wanted, and somehow Holly had always known it. She was something like twelve when she realized she had been a last resort, a final shot at making her parents' marriage work, and her existence had failed at doing its intended job. It made her wonder whether it had ever worked at all when her siblings were young and it was her fault for not being good enough, or if it had always been this way.
No one at the table acted surprised or seemed upset by the news. Nancy only asked if anyone was moving away and to where, and Mike asked if the house would be sold and when it would be finalized. Holly stayed quiet and picked at her food, her father's stoic silence as he chewed his dinner glaringly obvious. Ted Wheeler was never one much for words, and she honestly wasn't sure how she had expected him to behave. Maybe he could have said something; his life was completely changing, after all. But no… Wheelers saw the truth and avoided it until they couldn't. He'd been a silent presence all her life, why should he change that now?
After the extremely underwhelming dinner and kitchen cleanup duty, Holly was surprised when her siblings informed her they were going for a drive and asked if she wanted to join them. Again, Nancy was the first to leave, confidently strolling out the front door while Mike remained behind for a moment to assure their mother that they would bring Holly back soon.
Holly got into the back of her brother's car, but somehow wasn't shocked that Nancy was the one in the driver's seat. Mike would usually bristle at his older sister taking charge when he was perfectly capable himself, but Holly could see something was bothering him tonight as he let it go without protest. None of them said a word as they backed out of the driveway. The radio remained low.
They were near the outskirts of town before Holly spoke. "Where are we going?"
"I don't know," said Nancy at the same time as Mike replied with, "Somewhere."
The two looked at each other for a moment before Mike turned back to the window and Nancy to the front. "Always one step out of sync, aren't we," he muttered.
Holly didn't like the atmosphere in the car. "So I think none of us is surprised they're getting a divorce."
"I've been expecting it for years," Nancy responded, turning onto a random sideroad. "Their marriage was never… the most solid, I think."
Mike didn't say anything.
"How are you holding up?" Nancy continued.
Holly stared at the back of her sister's head, wondering when she became a stranger. When was the last time anyone asked her how she was feeling?
"I think Mom thought she hid it but I could tell," she said. "It's not hard to notice if you actually spend time around them."
For a second, Holly worried that that had come across as accusatory, but then decided she didn't care either way. It wasn't like she had that much to lose at this point, anyway. Instead she turned on their brother, who was once again fiddling with his wedding band. "Mike, what's wrong with you?"
He didn't react. "Nothing."
Holly frowned. "Right. You're just like them," she said bitterly, and this time it was definitely accusatory. "Acting like I can't see through your bullshit. I'm not a baby."
She pushed herself back into the cushions and stared daggers at the side of his face. When had he stopped being her protector and started lying to her instead?
Nancy sighed. "You're really shit at lying, Mike, you know that? The only reason you hid El in the basement for as long as you did is because Mom and Dad are the two most oblivious people on this planet."
Holly frowned again. Hid El? What was that about? "What do you mean, he hid El?"
Mike had hidden his face in his hands as Nancy gasped. "Shit, I shouldn't have said that!"
"Well you fucking did," said Mike dryly. "Now we have to explain it, don't we?"
The two of them shared a look and Holly knew she'd been left out of something.
"When I was twelve, Will went missing for a week and a lot of shit happened," started Mike. Holly vaguely recalled somebody named Will; a kind and quiet boy with green eyes. He liked to draw.
"I've heard that story before," she said.
"Yeah, okay, so… my friends and I went out looking for him and instead we found a girl. That girl was El," he continued. "She needed help so I took her home and hid her in our basement for that week."
Holly was silent for a moment. "That's gotta be the weirdest first meeting story I've ever heard."
"Well you have to take my word for it since you don't remember," Mike replied.
She shrugged. "Seems like the only way a girl as cool as El would fall in love with you," she teased, trying to lighten the mood. Maybe if she got him in a better mood he would spill.
Instead, it seemed to dampen his spirits. "I guess."
And suddenly, something clicked in Holly's brain. He'd been playing with his wedding ring all night, meaning he was thinking of El all night, and he also looked vaguely like he wanted to throw up.
"Is something wrong with her? Is that the problem?" She asked.
Nancy made another turn and they were somewhere in the woods now.
"El's fine," said Mike quickly. "It's me."
Holly furrowed her brows and she knew instinctively that Nancy had reacted the same way. "What do you mean, you?"
Mike sighed. "You won't get it."
"Try us," said Nancy. "We're your sisters, Mike, what's the worst we can even say?"
He closed his eyes. "You know me. You can say the worst."
Holly almost rolled her eyes at his dramatics. She'd nearly forgotten that he could be like this. She punched his shoulder.
"Stop being stupid and tell us," she demanded. "Don't be like Mom."
He was silent for a few seconds as he rubbed his shoulder, glaring at her. "That's exactly what I'm afraid of," he said finally. "Not of being like Mom, but Dad."
Nobody said anything as Nancy seemed to have reached a destination and threw the car into park.
"In what way are you like Dad?" Asked Holly incredulously. "Why would you even think that?"
He didn't reply and got out of the car instead, his sisters following. Nancy had taken them to Lake Jordan, for some reason. Holly walked beside her sister as they trailed after their brother. His posture looked tense.
"I'm just scared it'll happen to me too," he finally said, after the three had settled into a spot on the sand. "She's been distant lately and I don't know if it's something I did, or…"
Nancy patted his shoulder and Holly moved to settle her head under his arm like she used to when she was little and he would watch cartoons with her, and she felt him relax a bit. Neither of them said anything, knowing that with Mike sometimes it was best to just let him talk until he cut himself off.
"I don't want to be like Dad in that he never noticed when something was wrong with Mom, or with us," he continued. "But sometimes I really don't notice things and I'm scared I'm turning into him."
Nancy stretched herself out. "I never told this to anyone but Jonathan, but I don't think Mom and Dad ever loved each other," she said, looking up at the dark sky. "That's the difference between you and them. Your marriage wasn't one of convenience."
Holly felt Mike tense again. "It's not enough to care, Nance, I have to know what to do. I don't know how to be a husband when the only example I had was our dad, and look where that got him."
Holly snuggled closer. She wasn't anywhere near being married herself so she didn't have any insight to offer, but she could try to comfort him in other ways. Mike had always asked her for hugs when she was small.
Nancy turned her head to look at him. "It's not about that either," she answered. "You have good instincts, and you know El better than anyone. She's always wanted you in a difficult situation."
He shrugged, sliding his feet across the sand.
"Have you tried talking to her about it?" Suggested Holly. "Maybe she hasn't noticed how you feel either."
"No."
There it was again: Wheelers, masters of not seeing what they saw.
"I'm scared it's something I never noticed, that she wants to leave, or something," he continued. "Did you see how Dad looked like he didn't even give a shit that Mom's leaving him?"
Holly met Nancy's eyes, somehow knowing they were both thinking the same thing.
"That's bullshit," said Nancy. "I agree with you on Dad's part, but El wanting to leave you? Are you crazy?"
"She dumped me before."
Nancy groaned. "When you were fourteen, Mike! You don't even want to know what a disease you were when you were that age, I don't blame her."
Holly let out a laugh at the description. "Disease," she squealed. In retaliation, Mike pushed her off of him and she fell backward, filling her hair with sand. She didn't mind and laughed at him some more when he crossed his arms and pouted like a moody toddler.
Eventually she calmed down enough to say, "You're married now anyway, she decided she didn't want to dump you ever."
Neither of her siblings seemed to have anything else to contribute, so Holly kept talking. "And she's been obsessed with you since like, forever. I don't remember a time when she wasn't your girlfriend."
Mike decided to join his sisters in lying down on the sand. The sky was pretty that night.
"Thanks," he said. "I didn't want to talk about this, but… you guys have helped."
With that, a peaceful silence overtook the trio for a few minutes as they gazed at the stars. There was something reassuring in knowing that even if everything else fell apart and changed, the stars were permanent.
"Hey, actually," Mike started, making Holly and Nancy look over at him. "What are your earliest memories?"
Holly wasn't sure if the thing she thought of was a memory or a dream, so she didn't answer right away.
Nancy hummed contemplatively. "I think mine is the day you were born," she responded. "I remember Dad dropping me off at the Smiths next door and getting in the car with Mom, and I was mostly excited about playing with Abby instead of getting a baby brother or sister. He picked me up at night and we went to bed like normal, and then the next morning I know we went to the hospital, but I don't remember that part."
"I was clearly too ugly a baby for your brain to want to create a memory," joked Mike.
"You're still ugly," she retorted, and Holly almost laughed again. This was what having siblings felt like. "What's yours?"
"Just an image of the kitchen," Mike answered. "There's a jar of jellybeans on top of the microwave and that's it. After that I think it's my first day of kindergarten."
They both turned to Holly, who stared back at them. "Oh!" She exclaimed. "Um, I'm not sure if it's a memory or something I made up, actually."
"Maybe we'll remember it too," Nancy reassured her.
She couldn't say why, but Holly was nervous. Something about this particular image in her brain made her feel… off. "It's this hallway. Brown carpet, brown walls, looks old… And there's Christmas lights everywhere for some reason?"
At the mention of the lights, Nancy furrowed her brows, but Holly continued. "I'm walking down and then I'm in a room and it's full of lamps, and now this is the part that sounds made up."
She paused to gauge their reactions. Nancy still looked like she was suspicious of something, and Mike seemed oddly a little too interested. "The wall starts stretching all weird, like something's trying to come out of it, and I think the lights are going crazy but I can't remember all of it. I think I used to have nightmares about it."
At that, Mike sat up and whipped around to look at Nancy. "Doesn't that sound like-?"
Nancy nodded. "And remember that time she woke us up in the middle of the night about-?"
"Yeah."
Holly frowned. "What are you guys talking about?"
They both turned to look at her. "Do you remember when you were little, you used to be really scared of spiders?" Asked Mike.
"Yes?" She was still freaked out by spiders to this day.
"Do you remember why?"
Holly thought hard about it, and stumbled across something else she had forgotten long ago. "... I thought I saw a monster. A spider monster."
Her siblings exchanged a look. "You did see it," Nancy stated. "And this other memory you just told us about… that was another monster."
She said it as if it was nothing. As if monsters were real. Holly didn't know her sister well, but she never thought Nancy was the type to be on drugs.
"What are you on? Monsters? Seriously?" She burst out.
"She's telling the truth," asserted Mike. "I told you shit happened the week Will went missing. That's his old house you described."
"Both of you are insane."
"We're not!" They protested. "Remember the stories I used to tell you when you were little, about the magic people who banished monsters?" Mike went on.
Holly crossed her arms. "Don't tell me those were true, too."
"They were," he insisted. "They're what happened."
He looked too honest to be faking it, and either way everybody knew Mike Wheeler was a horrible liar. Holly decided to believe. "Why have I never heard about this before?"
"You were too small to be involved," said Nancy. "And nobody who knows what happened likes talking about it."
"It's also a giant government conspiracy so we're technically not supposed to talk about it at all," added Mike. "If you investigate a little, you start to find details that don't make sense and they'll shut you up."
"Who knew you guys were so mysterious?" Holly said jokingly. "Can I know the rest?"
The two of them shrugged at each other and launched into their story. They had already given themselves away in any case, and Holly had been directly affected even if she barely remembered it. It made her feel proud that they trusted her to keep the secret.
By the end of it, a bunch more things made sense: why El had always been so quiet and reserved, how come she and her husband were so attached, and all those weird nightmares and strange atmospheres Holly felt as a kid. She never knew Nancy was such a badass, either, or that Mike was actually clever enough to be the mastermind behind more than one spur-of-the-moment attack plan. It gave her a new lens to see her siblings through, and it made her feel closer to them.
It also explained why they'd chosen not to move back to Hawkins after they'd had the chance to get out, and now Holly appreciated the fact that they even visited. She wasn't sure she'd want to ever see their town again if she'd gone through all of that. As they walked back to the car, Mike's skinny arms slung around both his sisters, Holly felt grateful they were there.
"I love you guys," she said simply.
"Me too," said Mike without hesitation.
"I do too," added Nancy. "You two can be annoying, but I do miss you sometimes."
"Is it weird that I feel close to you after all this? Never thought I'd like having sisters this much."
Nancy reached up and slapped the back of Mike's head and Holly lightly punched him in the side. "Hey!"
He started to laugh, and Holly was reminded of why she had adored her brother so much in childhood. She was glad they'd made him feel better.
As for the matter awaiting them at the end of Maple Street… Holly felt much more secure about it. She knew now that her brother and sister weren't as far removed as they seemed, and that they hadn't forgotten about her. She could always talk to them if she needed to.
Now, only to convince her sister-in-law to start a career as an extremely talented and mysterious magician…
fun fact: my earliest memory is an image of the kitchen in an apartment i lived in when i was 2 that has a jar of jellybeans on top of the microwave. my mother has corroborated this story
ALSO I hope y'all enjoyed sibling banter?? we never see it in the show but I think Mike and Nancy are exactly the type of siblings to call the other ugly with no qualms lmaooo their vibes just remind me of me and my middle brother
something interesting too is that i'm the nancy in my family being the older sister of 3 with a near 12 year gap to the youngest, but my personality is very much mike and it's why he's my favourite character. was cool to project myself into both of them when i was writing this
uhh hit up my ask box if you wanna ask me questions?? i’ve started being more active and would love to talk to any readers!! <3
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whatidoisxsecret · 5 years
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GOD I LIOVE HOW U DRAW MIKE TOO.... PLS DRAW HIM MORE... better yet.... hanbrough ;)))
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HANBROUGH YOU SAY?! Like my second OTP. (I have maybe 5. Not sure) BUT YES YES YES
Excuse my modern day Bill and his gauges and Sci-Fi alien obsession.
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mindboogling · 5 years
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Modern!Newsies’ Smash Bros Mains
I need to finish a lot of the drawing requests/suggestions so here’s this in the meantime :P
Jack: The Cool Leader Guys or Adventurers - There’s a safe bet that Jack is going to play your tough or cool protagonist kind of characters AKA Link, Roy, Ike, Captain Falcon, etc. He cried tears of joy when he heard Roy was back. He’s the one who owns the Wii U/Switch and game. Everyone kind of just crashes his place to play.
Crutchie: Toon Link, Pikachu/Pichu, Isabelle, Kirby - The player that likes to play a lot of the cute and occasionally animal characters. Don’t underestimate though because he will freaking demolish someone with Toon Link, Kirby or Pikachu out of nowhere (puts the “cute” in “electrocutes your butt off”) Looks like a cinnamon roll, but could take you out like BAM! 
Davey: Marth and Robin - He hasn’t played much Smash which explains why he keeps falling off the maps, but Marth and Robin didn’t look as crazy or looney as the other characters and he thought the Fire Emblem characters were a lot more controlled in their strengths.
Les: Duck Hunt - What a troll. He learned to taunt from Race and likes the duck and dog a lot! He’s the little brother type of gamer who is asking questions and you’re not sure if you should let him win or wipe the floor with this kid. Although, he will definitely beat Davey.
Race: Sonic the Hedgehog- Big troll. He’s a button masher and a taunt spammer/master. He will scream random Sonic quotes from the 90s as to distract, but sometimes that may backfire too. (“GOTTA GO FAST-” *falls off the edge of the map*) The type of player that will crawl all over you like a cat to distract you while playing. 
Spot: Little Mac - He is ready to wreck some people up. Other than Little Mac, he will play some of the brooding looking characters like Ryu because WOAH, STREET FIGHTER or Charizard because it’s A FREAKING DRAGON likE EAT FIRE, BOI.
Katherine: Zelda, Sheik, Shulk - Likes having good control and a light character to move around easily. Secretly has learned all of the combos without anyone suspecting it and plays dumb only for victory (“Oh, what’s an ultimate? How do you move? What does this button do?”) A cheap tactic to get someone distracted in trying to “help” her, but first place is first place, buddy.
Albert: Bowser and Villager - Two entirely different mains, and it’s weird, but both mains are also a bit frightening. If he loses, he’s the type to laugh it off (probably with a ligma joke) or make up excuses for it (“Les was blockin’ the TV!”) Yes, he will yell during gameplay, which disturbs neighbors, but in this game, you GOTTA win.
Romeo: Mii Fighter - Started playing the characters that looked really cool, but didn’t feel like he really matched with any of ‘em so he made himself to main! There’s an on going joke that he likes playing as himself because it’s his own pretty face.
Elmer: Yoshi and Luigi - Has played Mario in the good old days, but likes how less threatening Luigi and Yoshi are next to Mario in Smash. The guy who doesn’t take the game too seriously and is probably having the most fun.
Buttons: Pac-Man and MegaMan - Likes the 8-bit aesthetic and plays them because of mascot rep. It’s like a blast from the past! Not the most intense gamer at all, but he likes seeing his friends have fun.
Specs: Fox - He’s more of a classic player and likes the Gamecube controller more. He is the type to try and think up of a strategy, but for some reason, isn’t able to lay a hit on button mashers like Race. He’s a good sport though.
JoJo: Pit - Mr. “I’ve never played this game before but I’m a natural, I guess” He thought Pit looked cool with his wings and bow and has never played Kid Icarus or any Smash Bros. games in his child life. It makes some of the Smash Bros. Strategists angry as heCK. 
Finch: Ness and Lucas - He had heard of Smash before but didn’t play often. When he was going through the roster of characters, someone went “UGH” when he went over Lucas and Ness. Now, he doesn’t stop saying things like “PK THUNDER!” when they play.
Blink: Snake - I mean, sure, bad eye buds, but! Blink likes the idea of the rugged spy. He’s all for it now, despite thinking it was kind of a waste of time for a game before. He grew more and more attached to it the more he played and it gave him an excuse to be close to the others cOUGH COUGH
Mush: Mr. Game and Watch  - That one friend that’s fine watching the others play. Although, when he does play, he is your basic jokester. He likes the simple look of Mr. Game and Watch and his wacky moves, despite the laggy flow style of his animation. 
Mike and Ike: Pokemon Trainer and Ice Climbers - They do the switch off thing with the controller and they are the first two to be told to share a controller (which sucks sometimes, but they’re chill with it.) Mike feeds the twin stereotype by choosing the Climbers (the iconic duo), but he also likes their cute design! Both Mike and Ike like the Pokemon trainer (although Ike prefers the trainer more than the Climbers) even though they can be just a tad OP. They’re so happy the characters returned! YAY TEAMWORK!
Smalls: Samus and Inkling - Oh, heck yeah they’re gonna go for the mcfreaking WOMAN WITH A MINI CANON ON HER ARM! Sometimes they don’t have the patience to charge her weapon for a strike so they play as the inkling (YOU’RE A KID, YOU’RE A SQUID!) Smalls is experienced at Splatoon, but still a good rookie at Smash. They definitely have a competitive spirit!
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Text
Birds ~ Stan Uris (Part 2)
Word Count: 2623
Anon: Pidge
MASTERLIST
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I just want to watch the birds go by from my handy fold-able blue canvas throne. I wanna watch them fly and fly and see them soar up into the unknown...
Stan swallowed, hesitant to answer. But really, there wasn't much he could do other than just not answer and walk away which, however he felt about Y/n, wasn't how you treated your friends, and Stan couldn't deny that's what they were. Friends. Y/n had done too much in the name of friendship, especially for him. So he internally sighed and admitted, "Birdwatching."
Y/n's eyes widened. "Birdwatching?"
Stan shrugged, suddenly self conscious.  What about it? "Yeah... You know, sitting quietly with a book and a pen with binoculars, looking for birds. For hours." He tried to make it sound as boring as possible, because it wasn't eventful at all. Sometimes the birds didn't even come and he would see the same two pigeons for hours. It was the awe of life and admiration for birds in general that brought him to do what he did. Surely Y/n wouldn't appreciate it?
Y/n thought for a second, tilting their head before smiling softly. "I've never done that before!" They announced solidly and before they even asked, Stan's heart sunk into his stomach. "Mind if I join you?"
Stan almost says yes, he very much DOES mind... but he doesn't. "No not at all." How did this person at all find the idea of doing something that was so against their personality at all a good idea? We're they just THAT desperate to spend time with someone? Were they really so incapable or being alone? Why was it him that they were so insistent on spending time with?!
What he wasn't considering is that not only did Y/n have very strong feelings for Stan and desperately wanted to spend time with him specifically, but they also tended to adapt to those around them. They were usually pretty chill and curious, only talking when they had a question or when spoken to. It was Eddie and Richie's banter and loud volumes that had brought the extreme extrovert out of them. With Bill, Y/n could sit still for hours while watching a movie or drawing. With Mike, Y/n was a more calm and neutral instead of being especially loud or smiley or sunshine-like. Ben brought out Y/n's curiosity which made them talkative because they had so many questions.
With Stan, therefore, Y/n would be able to sit perfectly still and have no problem at all. In his determination to ignore Y/n and his feelings for them, he had missed huge parts of her personality, lumping her with Richie as just another Trashmouth with an annoyingly long lasting positive mind set.
The idea of bird watching - observing and sitting quietly and spending time with someone she liked while he was in his natural habitat, having endless possibilities to learn something new - was amazing to Y/n. And the way Stan said and explained it, even wen he was trying to make it sound lame, set a light in his eyes and a relaxation to his shoulders that made Y/n even more exited. It sounded refreshing.
"Where and when do you do this?" Y/n asked.
"Early in the morning - just after sunrise - to about lunch, at the park. I might go back if it was a really active day until dinner and then go home."
Y/n nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow then," Y/n announced before turning away and leaving Stan to go into his house. Stan shook his head. No way they were coming. They would think it over, get out of the moment, and realize how dumb it was and they wouldn't show up.
Stan was surprised. Y/n plopped down next to him at 7am with a soft smile, offering him a friendly, "Good morning."
Unsure how to feel about this unexpected turn of events, Stan returned an uncertain upturn of the corners of his mouth- more a grimace than a smile. "You came." Y/n shot him a look and e quickly added, "Good morning."
"I said I was coming," Y/n reminded gently, pulling an ice box next to them. "And I did."
Stan looked at the red icebox with furrowed brows. "What's that?"
Y/n looked over, following his eyes. "Oh! I didn't know what you do on terms of snacks but I'm constantly hungry. So I got a bunch of snacks together. I missed breakfast to do it actually." They laughed. "You can have some if you want. I brought too much, because I love to be prepared."
Stan looked away. "I'll pass."
"You're loss," Y/n sighed, pulling out a granola bar and unwrapping it, throwing the wrapper back in the box. Stan was glad they didn't shove it in a pocket or litter, that would have driven him insane and he already felt uncomfortable and on edge.
Attention turned to the skies as Y/n looked with bare eyes and Stan used his binoculars.  It was calm and quiet other than the odd wrapper shuffle every half and hour or so as Y/n pulled out another small snack, ate it, and then waited until hunger prodded at them again.
Y/n leaned close as a bird flitted between the branches of a tree, pointing so Stan saw where they were looking before asking, "What's that bird?"
Oh great, Stan thought. This is when they get annoying. At least they had swallowed all their food before speaking. Stan pulled up his binoculars. "It's a Mourning Dove," he answered. "They're really common basically everywhere." Y/n nodded, staying quiet, and Stan found himself absentmindedly adding, "The sound they make is often mistaken for the hoots of owls."
Y/n grinned at him. "You've got bird fun facts?" Their eyes sparkled and Stan swore something inside of him exploded. They cared? About birds? Wait like actually? "Please tell me all of them as you think of them."
"Uh," Stan deadpanned. "Sure." This was not going at all like he had imagined it would.
The day continued like that. Y/n was quiet until they or Stan noticed a bird, and then they would ask for the bird's name and Stan would answer and then give a said 'fun fact'.
On top of the genuine fascination that looked absolutely adorable on Y/n’s face, for the first time ever in the time Stan had known them, Y/n was still and quiet if not asking questions, which themselves were fairly rare, brief, and whispered. Y/n wasn’t a nuisance. They weren’t loud or annoying or bothersome or even distracting. No crude jokes or long speeches about this or that that were poetic or beautiful. Just quiet observation and the occasional inquiry to path gaps in their knowledge.
It was... INCREDIBLY attractive.
When lunch came around, Y/n pulled out sandwiches and Stan was surprised at how fast the time had passed. They are in quiet and it was actually kind of... nice? There was something about turning to someone equally as excited as him and sharing fun facts and just getting into an activity that he was so passionately in love with. Stan LOVED birds and he had always been so irritated that people couldn’t understand that beside the simple wonder of being able to fly, birds were so fantastic. Cute and methodic and graceful and beautiful. It was relaxing and thrilling and exciting and soothing to share that with Y/n and see them be as into it as he was.
Stan found himself getting extra excited upon seeing a bird they hadn’t encountered yet, sharing new facts, or upon seeing a bird they’d already seen for which he had a fact about that he hadn’t shared with Y/n yet.
Be the time they were taking things down to leave, Stan felt kind of sad. This had been fun, even though he wouldn’t admit it even to himself. Y/n, on the other hand, smiled to themself and laughed lightly. “I’ll see you next time?”
There was still a stubborn part of Stan refusing this whole thing, but he DID want to see them again. Do this again. All he did was shrug. “Sure, if you want. I obviously can’t stop you.”
After seeing Stan’s smile and pretty eyes and hearing his low voice and soft laugh - sounds he didn’t realize he was making - and generally spending time with him, Y/n would take that. They nodded and turned away, leaving Stan alone. For now.
But I'd feel just like a nerd, watching birds watching me here all alone
By the next bird watching session, Stan had re-convinced himself that Y/n was obnoxious and not made for birdwatching. Seeing them around the others reignited the memories and ideas that he had held onto so easily before, dismissing the quiet, calm Y/n as some manipulation of memory as he desperately tried to make the day enjoyable.
Perhaps they'd mumbled too quietly for his inverted self to hear, or zoned out. Surely they hadn't been as invested and excited as he remembered. No one could be as in love with birds and their simple nature as he was.
In fact, Y/n surely wouldn't come the next time. After realizing how boring and ridiculous and dorky the whole thing was, Y/n wouldn't come again. They had stayed as an act of politeness last time, not able to come up with a reason to leave or wanting to make Stan feel back for liking something they surely found so dull and lifeless. This time, though, they wouldn't come and they'd have some lame excuse but Stan wouldn't mind. He wanted the quiet and seclusion more than anything.
To his utter annoyance, Y/n showed up. With their red icebox and a tranquil smile on their face. “Hey Stan the Man,” Y/n declared before plopping down and returning to the same quiet, peaceful curiosity they had displayed the last time.
Stan tried to reason that was being fake or trying to pull something, but as they hung out time and time again, it was quickly becoming clear that Y/n simply... ENJOYED birdwatching. They loved learning new things and being quiet and chill and just spending time with Stan, which made absolutely no sense but seemed to be true nonetheless.
The entire time Stan found himself growing accustomed to Y/n’s presence while silently ranting about how unwanted and annoying they were. Because, of course, all of the little feelings Stan was gettin in his chest and stomach were sudden and sharp and u comfortable so they had to be related to the annoyance he usually felt right? A special kind of annoyance, just for Y/n. They sure frustrated him enough for it to be annoyance.
One day, Y/n didn’t show up. Stan realized he was waiting for them and shook his head, grabbing his binoculars and continuing the rest of the day without Y/n. And their stupid snacks and annoying questions and persistent presence and disturbing, soft chuckles.
About halfway through, he couldn’t fight it anymore. Something was wrong. He had forgotten something at home. Or perhaps his gear wasn’t placed as perfectly in place as he’d thought.
No matter how hard he tried, no amount of thinning or fiddling did anything but frustrate him. There was something wrong. It was too quiet. The birds weren’t active today, as if sending that Stan was already on edge and not right and working to make his day even worse.
At one point he saw another Mourning Dove and thought of Y/n. He stared at it, his body sagging and his shoulders slumping and the corners of his lips sinking in a frown. This wasn’t fun anymore. It wasn’t relaxing or interesting. He saw another bird and went to tell Y/n a fun fact but she wasn’t there. He saw a bird that he hadn’t seen in a few months and Y/n wasn’t there to get excited with him.
He felt... he felt... ALONE. He had always felt nice being alone, never understanding the empty or nagging feeling of loneliness. Being alone wasn’t a bad thing to Stan like it was to the other Losers. At least, it never had been... until today.
After lunch, Stan didn’t go back to the park to try again. He just went home, thoroughly displeased.
“Where were you yesterday?”
Y/n jumped, startled, and turned to face Stan with wide eyes. “I- I was sick.”
Stan’s annoyed expression deepened as if Y/n being sick was a personal insult. “You didn’t come. Or even tell me you weren’t coming. You just didn’t come.”
Raising a hand to run the back of their neck, Y/n shrugged. “I... didn’t think you’d care, honestly, Stan. You’re always complaining under your breath when you think I can’t hear you and you look constantly annoyed. I feel like I’m ruining the last thing keeping you together. Killing your first born child.”
There was a pause where Stan mulled over those words. “I don’t care, first of all.” Bill rolled his eyes, he and Eddie smirking at each other in a knowing way - the exchanged went missing by everyone else. No one knew Stan as well as Eddie, Bill, and Richie, and Richie was too distracted to notice. Thankfully too because he would have made some outrageous joke and ruined the moment. “I just like to know what’s happening and when I’m involved in things,” Stan finished, shrugging. “You said you were going to come and then you didn’t. It was rather peaceful without you there.”
Y/n stood there a second, eyes glazed over as they thought. “You noticed I wasn’t there.”
Stan couldn’t help but blush. Y/n was so friggin cute and gosh these emotions that had been ignited were hard to deal with! “I noticed you weren’t there to annoy me,” Stan quipped sharply.
A little giggle escaped Y/n. “Well, no worries Stan, next time I get sick I will let you know. Otherwise, you will always have me there to annoy you.” They grinned and Stan’s stomach flipped. “I give you my word.”
Stan struggled to play it off as a smile rugged threateningly at his lips, his brain full of peace and ease. She was just sick. She wasn’t bored or leaving, she was just sick. Just once. She would be back next time. “Whatever,” he managed to get out.”
Y/n chuckled. “So what did I miss?”
Stan looked away, resisting the urge to tell her about the Mourning Dove he’d seen that had reminded him of Y/n and how the park felt cold and too quiet without them there by his side to keep the thick silence away. He wanted to explode and tell Y/n about the new bird and the fact that it meant. He wanted to infuse the memories into her mind and the pretty colors and movements that always fascinated her. But he didn’t. He couldn’t even begin to explain because there was something about birdwatching that requires you to be there to properly appreciate it.
Instead, he only sighed. “Not much. Saw yet another Mourning Dove, and a new bird.”
Y/n rocked on her feet. “Which bird? And you better have a fact for me, Uris.”
This time Ben looked at Bill and Eddie who were grinning like morons, trying and failing to hide their excitement at Y/n finally making progress with Stan.
Mike looked between them all, his confusion evident at the sudden streaming chemistry between Y/n and Stan and the weird expressions on his friends’ faces. Richie distracted him, as they were talking, and the day continued.
When Stan’s smile slipped and exposed itself, it didn’t go away again for the rest of the day.
-
Birds Tag List: @campcampie
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lenacker · 5 years
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Rivetra Week Day 1 : Lesson
My very first fanfic for my very first @rivetra-week ...I'm so nervous 😥😥
1805 words
Petra Ackerman sat anxiously on a parsons chair, waiting for someone to sit on the chair in front of her. That day was her first son Leo's first day at Elementary school, and she really didn't expect to be called to the teachers' room. Leo was always a well-behaved boy, maybe a little mischievous, blunt, more curios and critical than most of the boys in his age, but being a troublemaker in his very first day in the class? That didn't seem like the boy she raised.
The auburn haired mother grabbed her phone from inside her handbag, typing furiously to her husband, not even thinking about grammatical errors she made.
What kind o/ thing do u think your son into? He definitely got that whatever shitty idea from u.
And of course that man didn't respond right away. Petra was thinking about what kind of insults she can type to bait a respond from her husband, when a feminine voice interrupted her thoughts
"Mrs. Ackerman?"
Petra raised her head while putting her phone back to her handbag. She observed the lady in front of her. She was a raven haired mid aged woman, big brown eyes, her skin tan and she looks really nice.
"Yes?" the mother responded reluctantly, still wondering about what might her nice son did.
The nice lady smiled, pulling a chair and sat in front of her.
"I'm Grace Wide, Leo's homeroom teacher," she said, extending her hand to shake Petra's. Petra gave her a nice grip, forced a smile and responded, "Petra Ackerman, nice to meet you."
Mrs. Wide smiled again, before taking a deep breath and said, "You must be wondering what made us want to talk with you personally, right?"
Petra nodded, wishing with her deepest heart that's not something really bad.
"It's not too bad or anything, actually," the raven haired teacher gave a light chuckle, "it's just a bit...confusing"
Petra bit her lower lip. 'Just spit it out already, you're making me more nervous!'
"Leo is a really smart boy, he answered almost all the questions in the class. He also has amazing social skills, smiling to everyone he met. Really, I liked him from the first time I laid my eyes on him. But..." she paused, took another deep breath, then continued,
"At the lunch break, I left the class for a while. When I came back, the class was a mess! Leo was in the center of it, grabbing a crumbled sandwich. Although his surroundings are really dirty with sauces and other..things, the tables turned upside down, he stayed clean and impeccable. He didn't show any sign of being angry, or sad, or anything. He looks rather...bored? Another boy, James, which I know he's a bully in his pre-school from his mother, was on the floor with bruised hand and cheek."
The auburn haired mother scrunched her face, yeah, that sounds too much like his father.
"What he did after was even more surprising. He dropped the crumbled sandwich in front of James and said, 'You want this, eh? Eat it.' Then he went to the wash basin, wash his hands, and approached a scared boy in the corner, Mike, and tell him to eat lunch with him."
Another deep breath from both Petra and Mrs. Wide. Each waiting for the other to speak.
"So, " Petra tried to draw a conclusion, "I guess while you're gone, the James boy took Mike's sandwich, and then Leo tried to take it back, which cause a mess...In the end he exchange Mike's sandwich with his own lunch.." She exhaled, lowering her voice into barely a whisper. "That sounds like something he would do."
Mrs. Wide nodded solemnly. "I don't really blame Leo, though. That's such a noble thing to do, but I really hope you and your husband could direct him to avoid violence, since some parents are really against it. We're lucky James' mother doesn't bothered, she think her son deserve to be taught some lesson. But I'm afraid Leo's lack of emotional control and sudden outburst might cause him further trouble in the future."
Petra smiled bitterly, "Okay..."
"I think that's enough for now, Mrs. Ackerman. We don't wanna keep your sons waiting for too long, right? Who knows what kind of trouble they involve theirselves into?" The teacher stated those words in such an amiable manner, but for Petra that sounds like an accusation that her sons are a pair of trouble maker (like how their dad likes to call them). Maybe she's just being too high-strung.
Both women raised from their chairs, exchange smiles and 'once again its really nice to see you's then left the room. The petite mother quickly seeked for her boys, looking throughout the school corridor. It was easy to spot them, a bunch of black hair and a -smaller- bunch of ginger hair like hers.
The two boys, Leo and Liam, both have Levi's features ; eyes, nose, lips, cheekbone, jaw line. The former even inherited his father's hair color. Even so, people always acknowledge him as 'a nice combination of Levi and Petra', for he somehow got Petra's eye color and 'facial movements' ; the way he bring out his expressions, the pout when he's upset, the warm smile, the laugh (Levi was the one that pointed out the 'facial movement' part).
Meanwhile Liam has his mother's hair color, but other than that he was Levi's carbon copy. He also has the man's super-gorgeous-but-not-so-often smile. The 5 years old boy didn't speak as much as his older brother, his favorite words are just, "Why?" "How?" "WOW!" "Okay" and Petra's favorite, "I love you, mommy.." with that soft smile. That one got her heart every time.
The boys are playing some fights from whatever ninja cartoon show on the tv without any concern of their surroundings, running here and there while screaming 'hyaaaa's and 'ha! You missed!'s. They look genuinely enjoying theirselves Petra almost felt bad for interrupting them.
"It's time to go home, guys," she called.
They abruptly stopped their fight play, until Leo shouted, "Let's race to mommy!". Then they started running through the corridor as fast as their not so long legs can. Their mom grimaced seeing how they almost stumbled in the process. She felt how hard their bodies hit her leg and wondered how they do that every time they're playing a bit far from her and she told them to go home.
Liam tugged the hem of Petra's shirt, his language of asking her to bent down so he can give her cheek a quick peck. The mother smiled, happily accepted his kiss. She took their hands and started walking out of the school. They walked in silence for some minutes, before she felt the sway at her left hand weakened. Usually when they walked hand by hand anywhere, Leo would sway their intertwined hand, and walk with his typical style -fiery, taking the biggest step he can, sometimes combined with some jumps-. Petra looked down to her left, where her oldest son playing with his bag straps, with little pout in his lips. She tugged his arms that intertwined with hers.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
Leo looked up to his mom, his eyes full of doubt and sadness. “Am I a bad boy, mommy? My friends said if a parent go to that room the kid is bad.” Petra frowned, she never even imagine her Leo could sound that troubled.
She gave him her best smile, trying to sound as convincing as she can, “No, of course not! Even Mrs. Wide said you’re smart and nice!”
“Then why did mommy go there?”
“It’s called teacher room, Leo”
“I know it is. Why did you go there?” The boy sounded so demanding Petra feels like talking to Levi when he found her doing something he think she shouldn’t, like doing laundry when she’s pregnant or put a damn wet towel on the bed.
“It’s because you hit James, maybe you shou-“
“But he won’t shut up about how lame Mike’s sandwich, mom! He even snatched it from Mike’s lunchbox!” Now Leo replaced his sadness with anger. He even stopped walking and released his hand from his mother’s grip.
“Wow! You hit him?” And of course Liam chose that very moment to express his adoration of his older brother.
“Nah! Even Liam agree with me! Right, bro?”
“Yea!”
“Bad boys gotta learn some lesson right?”
“Yea!”
Petra huffed. Sometimes she underestimated how stubborn her sons were. Of course, combine hers and Levi’s stubbornness with Levi’s un-beatable way of talking.
“Alright, alright. You’re right. But when people do bad things doesn’t mean we have to do the same.”
“Well someone have to tell him that’s not right!”
The mother huffed once more. “Well, maybe….For now let’s just go home, okay? You must be tired.” She gave him a final pat on his head, then continue walking home.
Later at night, Levi smirked while listening to Petra’s speech about ‘why he has to teach their son some lesson’, ‘I don’t understand how you guys think’ and ‘you gotta quit putting shitty ideas in their heads’.
He stood from his chair, walked to his wife that was standing by the kitchen sink. She scrubbed the dishes with unnecessary force while keep nagging about things he didn’t give a fuck about. So instead he leaned on the countertop, observing her appearance. Her hair disheveled, tied in a messy ponytail. The light ginger strands sticking to various directions, some even stick to her forehead. He couldn’t help but wonder how someone look so messy and yet remarkably kissable at the same time? Her flushed cheeks, her small pink lips that keep talking and protruding cutely.
So he did the only thing in his head to stop her from talking.
He squeezed her cheeks with exasperation, efficiently switching her words into “hmmmmffftt!”
“Now quit your nagging, will you? You make me craving for that lips”
She blushed even more. “Lev-“
“Ssshhtt. Don’t. This is okay, right? The kids are not here, so I can dirty talk you however I want.”
The wife’s eyes widened instantly. She removed her husband’s grip from her cheeks to say, “Ah! They already in the bathroom for 2 hours! I gotta fetch them before-hmmffftt” another squeeze to her cheeks.
“Stop making excuses to run away from me.” Levi stared at her eyes menacingly, one hand keep squeezing her cheeks together, the other holding her nape close and joining their foreheads to add some scary effect.
Petra tried to shake her head -and failed miserably- and said “I don’t!”
Her husband huffed, “Tch. Fine. Let me fetch and teach them some lesson. Just…continue doing the dishes. And straighten your hair. It’s going everywhere.”
Fin.
Well, that's it! Please leave a review here if you don't mind :))
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orange-plum · 7 years
Text
Title: Inconsistent Satan and Me fanfiction commission for @astarisms. Sorry for the wait.
Summary: Natalie purchases a peculiar plant from a shop that has her waking up to a different Lucifer every morning. Some mornings are better than others, to be honest. Natan. 
“What did I say about buying that shit, kid?”
Natalie grinned over the top of the globe in her hands. Ensconced in the glow of blue and purple lights that painted an eerily tranquil solar system on the paint of her bedroom wall was what appeared to be a miniature jungle. At least, it looked that way from her perspective; unless there was a plant with a million petals that Satan never told her about.
Satan returned Natalie’s excited gaze with a look of pure exhaustion over the edge of his book.
“It’s pretty, though, right?” Natalie tried to reassure her prickly demonic friend, holding out the orb to him. The purple streams of light gently swayed across his face, like sunlight peeking through curtains.
He immediately shoved it away.
“Who cares if it’s pretty? If you bought it from that shop, it’s probably something I can guarantee that’s bad for humanity.”
Looking back, perhaps it hadn’t been a great idea to bring Natalie to that supernatural shop when he had been looking for Ipos and his book. In hindsight, he’d never really considered the ginger to frequent that place like a child looking for baseball cards to collect.
“Why did that asshole even sell this to you? It looks like Jurassic Park in a bottle,” Satan said scathingly, shoving the orb away from his face.
His cynicism didn’t deter Natalie, however, for she just held it closer to her face and sat down on her bed with it.
“Business is business, he said.”
Satan considered the shopkeeper’s words, lowering his book and watching Natalie as she became mesmerized with the mysterious plant inside of the glass ball. Something didn’t sit right in his stomach, but he pushed that feeling down in favor of the curiosity that seemed to be more prominent the longer Natalie examined her newfound purchase.
“What does it do?” he reluctantly asked after a long beat of silence.
“You mean you don’t know?”
“Am I supposed to know everything?” he spit, narrowing his eyes at the surprise on her face.
“Yes - Well, I mean, no. I mean - You’re just really old,” Natalie said, quickly backpedaling when Satan’s expression grew more sour. “I’m just saying, I thought you’ve had a lot of experience with supernatural stuff since you are, you know, a supernatural stuff yourself.”
Satan raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
“He said this would be useful to me, since I’m a human. He said if I’m ever in a pinch and I don’t like what’s going on around me, that this will save me. An opportunity presenter, I think it’s called. I can’t remember the technical term, but you get the picture,” Natalie explained rather triumphantly, giving Satan a broad smile and patting the glass beside her.
“I wouldn’t mess with something like that if I were you, kid. Nothing good comes from humans messing with objects from my world.”
The conversation died there with Satan’s resigned sigh and Natalie’s shrug.
The day passed uneventfully; homework, dishes, shower, bed.
The orb was a small nightlight on Natalie’s bedside table, a cosmos decorating the walls like slow moving clouds of galaxies blowing by on a breeze.
“G’night, Satan,” Natalie muttered into the silence.
“Night, kid,” Satan responded, his arms folded and his eyes shut from his place on the floor.
A small leaf trembled, then fell off of the side of the plant.
The night was peaceful.
XXXXX
Natalie’s morning was greeted with warm sunlight touching the skin of her cheek through her curtains. She yawned and stretched her arms over her head until she felt the satisfying pop of her shoulder.
The orb still sat, everglowing, beside her bed. Natalie smiled at it before swinging her legs over the side of her bed, her toes feeling the familiar mesh of the carpet.
It was only then that something felt . . . off.
Natalie peered around her room, noticing a couple of minor things that seemed a bit odd, but enough to draw her attention. The pile of books Satan kept stored on the shelf above her dresser was gone, and so was her ever present blue beanbag chair.
The two lacking items being out of place but not strange enough to linger on it, Natalie shrugged and pulled out her outfit for the day, getting ready for school.
Sometimes Satan grew antsy at night, though he never verbally admitted this to Natalie. He slept more now, but old habits die hard. Perhaps he had wanted to read but wasn’t willing to wake Natalie up with a light and relocated to Max’s old bedroom.
Natalie fitted her headband to her head and vacated her room, immediately bombarded with the smell of breakfast.
Since when does Dad have time to make breakfast in the morning? Natalie silently pondered, peeking her head around the corner when she heard idle chit chat and clanking of forks on plates.
Her jaw nearly hit the floor.
“No matter how I grade this it’s still going to hurt his feelings . . .”
“Who cares? The idiot didn’t get the material.”
“Max, please. Honey, you can’t mark him up just because you like him. If he didn’t understand it, he didn’t understand.”
“I know, but -”
“Mom, you just grade it for him, then,” Max frowned. He spooned a large mouthful of cereal up to his face when he his eyes flicked up, noticing Natalie’s gawking from the living room. He cocked his head to the side.
“What are you staring at? Mom made you waffles so hurry up and eat them.”
Carla McAllister, upon hearing herself mentioned, looked up from the papers her husband was gnawing his lip over. Natalie felt the air suck in between her teeth when she met eyes with her mother; her living, breathing, so very not dead mother.
Carla smiled, the aged wrinkles around her eyes becoming more prominent with the brightness of her grin. She looked just like the photos Alex had shown Natalie all throughout her childhood. It was different seeing it in person, though.
Natalie felt her heart stutter in her chest, like a car trying desperately to start but failing.
“Morning, Natalie. There’s no more butter, your brother ate the rest, but there’s syrup.”
Natalie hadn’t been aware that her legs were even moving forward until she stood in front of the table. Alex said something to her without raising his head from the reports in front of him, but Natalie didn’t hear anything but the ringing in her ears.
Her mother laughed in response while she brought the syrup over to the table and cleared the empty plates. She felt like she was underwater, all sound dispersing through the static haze in her brain.
Natalie felt weightless . . .
Until a tug sharply pulled her into her seat. Natalie blinked, dumbfounded, at Max. He gave her a look of annoyance coupled with curiosity but didn’t say anything else.
Natalie ate her food on autopilot, preferring to watch the exchanges of her family as they shared what seemed to be a very normal family breakfast. The food tasted like nothing in her mouth, Natalie finding herself too far in awe of this bizarre situation to register the sensations of touch and taste.
There were talks of Max’s girlfriend, of Alex and the dog he was pestering them all to go along with purchasing, of a nice old man Carla met on her shift last night, and the vacation they’d all apparently taken to San Diego last summer.
Natalie wrung her hands together in her lap when Alex flipped through some of the pictures on his Facebook account, all of them on the beach or at dinner in a nice restaurant. Natalie’s sunburnt face grinned back at the camera, her arms flung around Max and Carla’s necks.
“If you keep zoning out you’ll be late for school. Get out of here, Nat,” Max reminded, excusing himself from his seat with a slap to her shoulder. Natalie jutted forward before catching herself, standing on numb legs and slipping her backpack on.
“Are you alright? You’ve been very quiet this morning,” Carla inquired, approaching Natalie with a bit of concern lingering in her gaze. She placed her hands under Natalie’s bangs. “You don’t have a fever . . .”
“I- I’m fine. I’m just tired. Didn’t sleep well. Bye!” Natalie announced in a rush, overwhelmed to the point of breathlessness. Natalie sprinted to the front door, but she paused with her fingers around the handle for a moment of hesitation. Her feet turned her around and she ran back into the kitchen. Before Carla could voice her confusion, Natalie threw her arms around her and buried her face in her neck. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and mentally memorized the sensation of her mother’s warmth against her skin, the smell of Carla’s perfume.
Natalie pulled away suddenly, her voice caught in her throat when she said, “I’ll see you after school, Mom. I love you.”
Carla waved awkwardly after her daughter, only then turning to her equally confused husband when the door slammed shut.
“What was that about?”
“I have no idea.”
XXXXX
“Mom’s alive, mom’s alive, mom’s alive!” Natalie found herself yelling as she ran down the street, almost tripping over her own feet in her exhilaration. In her frantic haste, she nearly knocked over a woman and her stroller, and a few of her classmates making their way up the school steps.
Natalie felt sweat sticking her hair to the sides of her temples when she reached the top of the steps, her eyes finding Mike as he tied his shoe outside of their science building. He glanced up when Natalie landed in front of him, pulling him up by his shoulders and shaking him with a grin.
“My mom’s alive!”
Mike’s teeth clacked together painfully at the jostling before he gently pried his friend’s hands from him, concerned confusion on his face.
“U-um, that’s good? My mom’s alive, too,” Mike responded, smiling at her uncertainly. Natalie could’ve kissed him in that moment, she was so excited, but instead she grabbed his hands and started jumping up and down.
“I went to the beach with her, Michael! And she makes waffles like I always thought she would. I heard she was a good cook, so obviously I’m jealous, but she’s alive and she’s funny and nice and - Oh my gosh!” Natalie stopped her rambling to gasp. Mike furrowed his brow in confusion, nervous from his friend’s outburst.
“Are you not mad at me anymore? You’re talking to me, and you haven’t talked to me since you saw God in that warehouse. Did Stan say anything to you, because I can’t find him, but here you are: talking to me again.”
Mike tried to form a coherent response as Natalie waited for him to speak impatiently, her gaze intent and wild as she hung on every word he had yet to speak.
“Saw who in a where now? N-Natalie, are you OK? I don’t remember being mad at you . . .”
“You were. Because I lied about Stan.”
“Who’s Stan?”
Natalie straightened, furrowing her own brow. Mike ran his fingers over the back of his neck, glancing behind Natalie to a small group of people watching the scene like a bunch of rubberneckers. Mike gently grabbed the bend of her elbow and guided her to the other side of the building for some privacy.
“Natalie, maybe you should take a few breaths. You’re very loud and very . . . sweaty,” Mike commented, jutting his hand inside of his backpack and handing her some Kleenex. Natalie took them with a thanks and wiped her face off, composing herself enough to speak softer.
“So, you started tutoring someone? That’s good. I was thinking about trying that out myself,” Mike smiled, his tone not belying how genuine he was about volunteering to help someone improve their academic standing.
“But I haven’t . . . shown you the guy I’m tutoring?” Natalie continued cautiously. Mike shook his head.
“I don’t think so.”
“Not even once?”
Mike shook his head again. Natalie’s previous excitement died down into something heavy forming in her stomach. She had been too caught up in the shock of her mother in her kitchen to really think about why she was there to begin with.
Why Carla was there and why Satan wasn’t.
“I have to go,” Natalie blurted, gripping her backpack straps tighter as she pivoted around, intent on heading back to her home. Mike called out in surprise.
“Where are you going? We have class in five minutes!”
“I need to check on something really quick!” Natalie hollered back over her shoulder, disappearing out of the school gates before the office officials would lock her in until school let out.
Natalie tried not to dwell on the anxiety building inside of her as she hauled herself through her window, landing on her bed with an oof! She had no idea if her parents were at work already, so using the front door wouldn’t be conducive to her current situation.
Natalie was dumbfounded the more she looked at her room, this time, however, with intent to find flaws. It really was exactly the same, but with slight alterations. Not only weren’t there books or a beanbag chair, there was no birthday doll sitting on her dresser. There were no friendship bracelets tacked onto the wall. Her corkboard still had photographs and notes on them, but they all consisted of her friends from school.
Even the photos of Mike she used to have hanging on her mirror were intact where Satan had previously cut holes in them.
Natalie collapsed onto her bed, staring at her disbelieving expression in the mirror.
There was no sign of Satan anywhere. It was as if he had just . . . vanished from her life.
XXXXX
Natalie returned to school a few hours later when she managed to understand and accept the information presented to her.
Throughout the day she quizzed the people around her about Satan, but no one seemed to have a clue what she meant.
When Natalie brought up Felix to Laila, the girl stared at her quizzically and relocated to a table on the other side of the cafeteria. When Natalie brought up Hell exploding in the forest up in Oregon, Kristi laughed in amusement and leaned in, wondering what television drama Natalie was referring to.
Alex and Max didn’t know anything about a freshman boy she tutored at home.
Mike didn’t know about vessels or God or of the man with his face who’d eventually wear his body like a tailored suit at the End of Days.
When she laid her head against her pillow that night, watching the gentle waves of the orb flowing against her headboard, Natalie’s chest tightened.
Where could he have gone?
XXXXX
“What’s for breakfast, mom?” Natalie asked, yawning into her fist. It was Saturday morning so she remained in her pajamas, trudging into the kitchen on a terrible night’s rest. Normally she’d have slept in, but her mind was plagued with a hardened face with golden eyes. Sleep was just going to keep alluding her.
Alex was in the middle of pouring himself a cup of coffee, alone, when he went rigid and stopped tilting his cup. Hot coffee dribbled down the side of his mug and he hissed, returning the pot to the counter and sucking on his now burned thumb.
“That’s not funny, Natalie,” he reprimanded, his disapproval masked under a sheet of ever present misery at the mention of his wife. Natalie halted at the familiar sight of her father, wetting her lips and blinking away the tired fog from her eyes.
The kitchen seemed bigger, quieter, now. There was no warmth of conversation or food to be shared, just her father preparing for work.
“Sorry,” she muttered and lowered her eyes, trying to keep the mortification from bleeding into her face and tone. “I had a dream last night. I guess I wasn’t fully awake yet.”
The exhaustion still lingered in his face but Alex’s shoulders relaxed at his daughter’s nervous laughter.
“It’s OK, Pumpkin. I have those dreams too,” he reassured with a small smile, pulling out a chair for her. “I can make you some eggs if you want.”
Natalie nodded gratefully, confused as all hell but refusing to speak about it. It wasn’t until Alex placed her plate in front of her and adjusted his tie that Natalie finally spoke up around a mouthful of eggs.
“Is Max still in school?”
“Yes. I don’t think his summer break is until a few months from now. Why?”
“No reason,” Natalie lied, taking a large sip from her milk. When Natalie felt her father’s gaze persisting, she peered up through her messy bangs with a befuddled smile. “What?”
“I’m just surprised,” Alex laughed. “Usually you’re up early on Saturdays.”
“I am?”
“Yes. You have that Stan boy coming over to tutor and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look this casual around him,” he explained, gesturing to Natalie’s oversized t-shirt and sleep tousled hair. She gaped at him, coughing when she choked on her food, eggs spraying the table.
“Stan’s here?” Natalie asked, wincing at how loud her voice was. Alex made a noise of affirmation, wiping off the mess she made.
“Well, not yet. He usually comes over in ten minutes, but I - Pumpkin, where are you going?” Alex started, jolting back in surprise when Natalie scurried out of the room.
She tripped and fell onto her carpet when trying to remove her pajama bottoms too quickly. Pulling a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt over her head, Natalie quickly threw her hair up and washed her face, the anticipation palpable.
She felt a grin pulling at her lips as she put on her deodorant when she peered around her room, the familiar doll and beanbag in place.
The doorbell rang when Natalie was making her bed. She forced the corner of her comforter into the wall and threw a pillow over it, yelling when the doorbell rang again and again.
“I’ll get it!”
Natalie hopped out of her room, smiling to herself when she approached the living room, Alex already answering the door and talking with their visitor pleasantly. Natalie sidled by her father, turning her eyes up to greet her best friend; it had only been a day but she missed him.
Her smile fell.
“It’s about time. Why are you so out of breath?” Satan asked, eyeballing Natalie with reluctance.
“Y-you’re tall,” was all Natalie could eloquently reply with. She glanced to her father anxiously, but Alex never stopped smiling at the two of them.
“Yeah?”
Natalie cleared her throat. “No reason. Just thought you should know.” She laughed mechanically, to which Satan pursed his lips in reply.
“I’ll let you two kids get to it, then. I’ll see you for dinner. Feel free to join us if you’re still here, Stan,” Alex said, draping his coat over his arm. Satan stepped out of the way and nodded, watching as Alex drove out of sight before shutting the door.
“I hate doing this. I can’t tell you how annoying it is to wait outside until eight every fucking Saturday,” Satan grumbled, knocking Natalie’s shoulder as he threw himself down on the couch. He ran his hands through his hair with a huff before looking at Natalie again. His upper lip curled back in annoyance. “What?”
“Why do you look like that?”
Satan appeared offended by Natalie’s obvious declaration. “Because I was born this way?” he supplied slowly, as if talking to a particularly dumb child.
“Aren’t you supposed to look like, I don’t know, some doofy alfalfa looking kid around my dad? Not some beefed out giant. Only my friends know ‘Stan’ looks like this, not my family.”
Satan made a face of displeasure, reeling back and cocking his head.
“The fuck? Since when?”
“Since always,” Natalie argued.
“You’re on crack, girl. You’re the one who made me set up this routine, if you remember correctly. I come over to ‘tutor’ you every weekend for your college courses and - What are you doing?” Satan explained, making sure to sarcastically air quote for effect before Natalie leaned in. She cupped his chin and turned his face back and forth to examine it. He slapped her hands away, getting flustered.
“What is wrong with you today, Natalie?” Satan demanded, moving down the couch when she made to sit, burying her face in her hands. Satan grew silent, watching Natalie’s shoulders starting to tremble.
He drew his hand up, hesitating over her back, then decided against it as Natalie sat upright. Satan tucked his hand protectively to his side and shot the teen a concerned frown.
“Kid?”
“It’s the same but it’s different,” Natalie spoke after a beat. She turned to Satan but she didn’t look like she was going to cry, much to his relief. She wasn’t smiling, however, and that was concerning enough.
“What’s different? You’re going to have to give me a little more information than that.”
Natalie took a breath and began to tell Satan of her day. He sat quietly, his expression unreadable as she recited about her mother and her family together, his lack of presence in her life with her friends and relatives, and his personal belongings vanishing.
By the time she finished, Natalie felt ten years older. She held out her hands, as if to say ta-dah! with no real enthusiasm. Satan folded his arms across his chest and hummed in thought.
“Are you sure you didn’t dream this or anything, kid?”
“I swear I didn’t,” Natalie denied, frowning that Satan would even doubt her on something this serious. When he saw the bitterness on her face he held up a palm in surrender.
“Alright. I believe you.”
Natalie didn’t know how much she needed him to say that until some of the pressure in her gut subsided. She wasn’t crazy and she hadn’t imagined yesterday. Something weird was going on.
“Did you eat anything or talk to anyone strange yesterday? You are the Prophecy Child. There is a possibility someone did something to you.” Even the idea of this possibility had Satan gripping his biceps until his knuckles turned white.
Natalie slowly shook her head. “No, nothing like that. Aside from everything being different, yesterday was normal. I didn’t see . . . anything . . . superna . . .” Natalie started, then her voice faded out. Satan raised an eyebrow.
“The plant.”
“The what?”
Natalie shot up from her seat, shocked that she hadn’t realized sooner. “Jurassic Park!”
Satan protested as Natalie began to drag him down the hallway, huffing and puffing while trying to maneuver the resisting hulk of a man into her bedroom. With a final shove, Natalie pushed him inside and gestured dramatically to the orb.
“What is that?”
“I don’t know. I bought it the other day from that weirdo shop you took me to a while ago. You know, the first day of the end of the World?”
Satan stopped eyeballing the glowing plant to scowl at Natalie. Natalie waved him away dismissively.
“I know, I know. Humans shouldn’t shop there. He said this is an opportunity presenter. What do you think that means? Do you think it has something to do with your vanishing act yesterday or your relationship with my dad today?” Natalie asked, biting her nail in apprehension.
Satan picked up the orb and studied it, twisting it around before setting it back down.
“There’s only one way to find out.”
XXXXX
“Why must you insist on harassing me? You do know I lose customers any time somebody even hears about you two coming in here,” the shopkeeper sighed, sneering into a bookshelf he was stocking when Natalie and Satan entered.
“We’re not buying anything,” Natalie reassured, tapping her fingers together nervously. She glanced at Satan for help but he refused to look at her. Instead, he removed the orb from the backpack he was wearing.
Upon its reveal, the shopkeeper stopped what he was doing, the surprise evident on his face now.
“Where did you get that?”
“I bought it from you two days ago,” Natalie explained.
“No, you didn’t.”
Natalie scratched her head in frustration, messing up her hair in the process. “You did, but you just don’t remember it.” When the man made to open his mouth for what was most likely another scathing reply, Natalie beat him to it. “And I know that sounds stupid, but I really did buy this. I just want to know what it does . . . ‘cause I think it did something weird to me.”
The shopkeeper set the book down he was holding and regarded both Satan and Natalie like they were germs he was about to get infected with. Natalie stood with hope when she saw the gears slowly moving behind his gaze as he debated something internally before he moved forward, jutting his hand out impatiently.
Satan deposited the orb into his hands, watching him inspect his own product.
“So?” Natalie asked, holding her breath. “Do you know what it is?”
“It’s a plant that’s been blessed that used to grow on the edge of Eden, or so the rumor has it. Hatkhala Khadasha, or the plant of fate. New opportunities and such,” the shopkeeper explained, looking down his nose at Natalie like it was obvious to know this.
“Yeah, you said something like that to me before. But I don’t really get what it means. You said it might help me, though.”
“It will allow you to choose the fate you want.”
Natalie stared, long enough to make him visibly uncomfortable, so he sighed in exasperation. The shopkeeper gestured for Natalie to move closer, then pointed to the dead leaves on the outer portion of the orb.
“See this here?”
Natalie nodded.
“These are two dead fates. The Hatkhala Khadasha dies until you decide to nurture the fate you choose, according to the legends. The owner shall keep waking up to new worlds with new scenes, though it will be nothing too different from the original experiences you’ve had. When you like a world, you break the glass and water the plant.
“If you don’t water the plant once a day, more leaves will fall off and the cycle will continue. You happy now?”
Natalie floundered when he tossed the orb back, almost dropping it.
“So, it’s like an episode of Twilight Zone and every day is the same world, but the events around me are different?” Natalie asked.
“To dumb it down, yes.”
Natalie’s fingers flexed over the glass, leaving wet prints of sweat where her skin had been. She stared at the jungle-like foliage inside, tinted purple and blue as if it imprisoned fireflies inside of it.
“So, he’s not the Satan I spent the last year with? He’s just a version of him that could’ve happened?” Natalie asked, glancing at the man beside her. Satan frowned at her words, turning to the shopkeeper for answers.
“Something like that.” He sighed when Natalie’s expression fell to worry. “You don’t have to pick this fate. Let the plant die tonight and pick the one you want to live in. Christ, I can’t believe a version of me actually thought selling this to someone as stupid as you was a good idea.”
“What if I don’t like any of the fates I get?” Natalie asked, squinting at her reflection in the orb. So each of the many leaves inside held a different life she could live? Hard to believe.
“If you don’t let the plant completely die, come see me and I’ll fix it,” the shopkeeper said, clearly very bored with this conversation. He walked back to the bookshelf and began placing the books back up.
“Thank you!” Natalie said, no longer worried about this ball in her possession. She smiled down at it, holding it close to her chest.
If he could reverse this, then there wouldn’t be any problem in seeing all of her other options, right? In the end Natalie didn’t see herself picking any of these worlds. She’d always come back to the Satan she knew.
Satan eyed her quietly as they walked to the exit, suspiciously silent throughout this whole exchange.
He held the door open for Natalie, the bell jingling signifying their departure before Natalie snapped her fingers. She turned around and called out to the shopkeeper once more. He lowered his eyelids and stepped off of the ladder, looking to her expectantly.
“What happens if the plant dies?”
“Don’t let it die.”
“OK, but what if -”
“Don’t let it die.”
And that was the end of that.
XXXXX
Now that her fears had been assuaged, Natalie enjoyed the rest of her day like she would any other. All the while she did, Satan had hardly spoken a peep.
It wasn’t until Natalie was climbing into bed when he finally spoke up.
“You’re not going to break it?”
Natalie slid under her blanket, rolling her head on her pillow until she could see the two glowing lights that was Satan staring at her. Beside her bed sat the orb, looking as healthy as ever. It was hard to believe every day this plant was dying.
“Why? Did you want me to break it?”
Satan shrugged, averting his gaze.
“I don’t see a difference, dude,” Natalie spoke softly, trying to comfort her friend when she caught his eyes again. He was clearly upset, though she knew he’d never admit it out loud to her. “I don’t even belong here. Not with you. I have my own family and my own Satan. You’ll be fine when your Natalie wakes up tomorrow.”
Satan frowned, slumping down in the beanbag chair, but he didn’t protest.
“Goodnight.”
“Yeah, yeah. Night.”
Natalie rolled over, fiddling nervously with the edge of her pillowcase. For some reason a knot of guilt tied inside of her. She shook it off as best she could, however, choosing not to dwell on it.
Tomorrow was a new day.
Beside her a leaf slowly withered and died, falling to gather with the rest on the bottom.
XXXXX
Natalie adjusted quite quickly the mornings she was presented with. The shopkeeper had been correct; each day was her own reality, just altered slightly.
Some days the alterations were so minor that she’d barely caught on to it, such as Satan hating sweets, or Max living at home. Other days she woke to a life drastically different to her own in the personalities of her peers.
There were even some days she woke up still contracted.
Natalie grinned sheepishly over the scrapes on her knees while Satan scowled above her. She could see the patches of dried blood stained on his jeans from how she’d fallen down the stoop outside.
“I forgot,” she admitted.
“We’ve been contracted for a year now. How do you just forget this?” Satan retorted sarcastically, shuffling around in the first aid kit to find some bandages.
Natalie bit her lip and shrugged. All she could do was smile and hope the subject died every time. There was no point in bringing up her knowledge to any of these Satans. It was too much of a hassle and she didn’t need to give them any extra stress.
If they were just going to get their own version of Natalie back tomorrow, then it was probably best anyway that they weren’t aware she didn’t belong here.
“So . . .” Natalie started, making sure her voice was non confrontational. Satan bandaged her knees, only giving Natalie a brief noise of question in his throat in response. “I forget. What happened at Titus’ warehouse again? I mean, cuz we’re contracted and all.”
Satan’s gaze flicked up to hers, confusion on his face. Natalie beamed.
“Just curious. It was hectic there, you know.”
Satan must’ve been content with her answer because he didn’t look suspicious. His eyes dropped down to Natalie’s knees again and he continued wiping them with the antibacterial cloth.
“He wasn’t there. I just walked in and grabbed you, remember? I’m not sure what’s so ‘hectic’ about that, kid.”
“What? Weren’t there angels and fire and stuff?”
Satan snorted. “What are you talking about?”
Natalie fisted her hands against the material of her shirt. OK, so clearly there hadn’t been a confrontation yet . . . A shiver ran down her spine and she glanced behind Satan, suddenly more aware of her surroundings.
Was Titus still out there?
“You, uh,” Natalie cleared her throat, setting one of her hands over Satan’s. He stopped what he was doing to stare at her in surprise. “You won’t let me get taken somewhere again, right?”
Natalie took a moment to stop glancing around her street, finally allowing her gaze to settle in front of her. She flinched with how stony Satan’s expression was, but there was some comfort in that.
“Never.”
Her fingers flexed, then gripped onto his hand. She was satisfied with that.
XXXXX
There were days Natalie hated with this plant. But it wasn’t like she could do much about it, except for ride it out until nighttime.
These particular days were the ones where Satan hated her.
She sat on the other side of the room as the man who she had come to know as her best friend glared daggers at the television. This man, in this reality, apparently never found her personality quirky but charming, instead just finding her obnoxious. He didn’t find her laugh to be warm, he just thought it was grating and aggravating.
This Satan hated her for keeping him housed like some child or a dog on a leash.
Natalie kept to herself most of the day, avoiding eye contact. She had gotten too close when passing him before bed and he had grabbed her arm, making her wince. When she met his eyes it felt like someone had knocked the wind out of her.
No one had ever looked at her with so much contempt.
Satan had shoved her away and left through her window after that, but Natalie had a hard time bouncing back for a few moments. She didn’t ever want to be privy to that look ever again.
Not if she could help it.
She crawled into her bed and shut the light off, staring at the orb, willing another leaf to finally fall.
XXXXX
One of the most shocking days came when the orb was half full of dead leaves. Natalie shook it around between her palms like a magic 8 ball, trying to get a better look inside. Somehow it was still glowing, but she wasn’t sure what was causing the light to peek through the cracks in the leaves.
If it wasn’t the plant that was doing it, then was there something else inside of it?
Natalie heard the front door open, unwilling to tear her eyes away from the glass ball on her lap. She could see Satan in her peripheral and waved to him.
He hesitated when he approached, raising his eyebrow.
“What are you doing?”
“Can’t talk. Thinking.”
“You can’t talk and think at the same time?” he asked, unamused. Natalie shook the orb again, hoping that some of the leaves would fall away to reveal what was at the center.
“What is that thing, I’ve been meaning to ask.”
Natalie tapped the glass, putting her ear to it. It didn’t make a sound, no movement inside. She let out an exhale through her nose and finally put it down. When she glanced up at Satan something seemed different about him. He looked more . . . relaxed.
“It’s a night light,” Natalie lied.
“A night light,” Satan said, deadpanned.
“Uh-huh.”
He took one last look at the ball before she could see him lose interest. Satan shifted, moving towards the kitchen.
“Did you want a drink?”
Natalie leaned back against the sofa, pulling her legs in in a gesture to let him pass. “Sure, I could use a soda, I guess.”
She smiled at him.
Satan smiled back.
“OK, be right back.”
Natalie reached forward just as Satan walked in front of her, intending to grab the remote on the coffee table and turn on the television. She had not expected in doing so that her friend would bend down and kiss her.
Natalie froze, as if someone had poured ice down the back of her shirt.
It had only been a brief peck, barely a brush of skin on skin, but it blindsided Natalie enough to stare blankly ahead.
In what universe had he mistaken that for any kind of advancement towards him? Natalie pulled her arm back and ran her hands over her face, her eyes wild as she turned her head towards the sounds coming from the kitchen.
There was no way she had led Satan on just by leaning forward as he had tried to pass her. Unless . . .
“S-Satan!” Natalie shouted, sitting rigid on the sofa and beckoning her friend. Satan’s face emerged from the kitchen, slight irritation marring his features at the volume of her voice.
“What?”
It took a few attempts for Natalie to speak over the knot in her throat, her tongue feeling heavy and useless in her mouth. She wetted her lips.
“Are we- I mean, here and now, are- Do we . . .” Natalie coughed into her hand, trying her best to smile, despite the heat crawling up her collar. “Are we . . . together?” she finally supplied, rolling her wrist in a vague gesture.
Satan blinked.
“Uh, yeah?”
“O-oh,” Natalie gulped. “OK, then.”
Satan waited to see if Natalie said anything else, but she merely continued to stare at him with a ambiguous look of constipation. He shook his head, disappearing back into the kitchen.
Natalie gripped her shirt where her heart was, trying to compose herself before Satan came back. This was not good. She hadn’t considered any possibilities that she and Satan were . . . that they did anything like that together . . . that he loved her in the way that she . . .
Natalie shook her head and slapped her legs.
“Who cares? It’s not a big deal. If there are versions where he hates me, it only makes sense that there are versions where he loves me, too,” Natalie muttered to herself with a laugh.
Satan meandered into the living room a moment later, sitting beside Natalie and handing her her soda. Natalie took it with a mechanical jerk of her arm, nearly smacking him in the face. She apologized in a rush when he scowled, scuttling down the couch and putting some distance between the two of them.
What are you doing? He’s still Satan. It’s not like he’s going to do anything different than he normally would. We’re still friends. It doesn’t have to be weird. Natalie thought to herself while Satan surfed through the channels. He settled on some western movie that Natalie hadn’t seen since she was little.
“This is a good movie,” Natalie announced, keeping her eyes on the screen.
“Uh-huh.”
“I heard it actually didn’t do well in the theatre, but it became a classic, like, ten years later.”
“You don’t say.”
“Have we had sex?”
Satan spit out his beverage, his lap and the carpet getting soaked with Coca Cola. Natalie kept her eyes on the television, ignoring the way Satan swiveled to look at her. She sipped from her can.
“This is a good drink, thank you.”
“What is wrong with you? Who just says that out of the blue? Jesus Christ,” Satan hissed, standing up to get a towel. Natalie waited patiently for him to storm back to the living room, wiping off the sofa and the coffee table.
When she managed enough courage to look at him, he was staring at her, scathing. She looked back to the television.
“Is that a no?”
Satan scrubbed the coffee table harder, then threw the used rag at Natalie’s face. She squawked, removing it with a frown of her own.
“That’s not a very nice thing to do.”
Satan pointed to his face, unimpressed. “The Devil.”
“Regardless.”
Satan shifted his feet, staring forlornly at the television and his half a can of soda, knowing that his afternoon of relaxation was now blown out the window. With a heave of his chest, Satan plopped onto the cushion with an irritated grumble, staring at the floor.
“OK, what do you want?”
Natalie felt that foreign heat start to climb up her neck and rest in her cheeks again. At least he wasn’t looking at her. She didn’t think she could talk about this if he was looking at her. Instead, she fidgeted and ran her finger around the rim of her soda can.
“What makes you think I want anything?”
“You just asked me if we had sex.”
Natalie cringed, hearing how awkward it sounded shot back at her.
“Well, how am I supposed to know?”
OK, that was a stupid question. She’d admit it.
Satan gawked at her now. “I’d assume you’d have been present?”
Natalie groaned in embarrassment, hiding her face in her shirt, pulling the collar up above her face. She rolled away from him and tucked herself into a ball.
“I changed my mind. I’m sorry, I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Can we please just watch the movie?” she pleaded, her voice muffled through the fabric.
Natalie waited for his response in the darkness she shrouded herself in. Nothing but the sound of her own breathing and quiet dialogue coming from the television could be heard for a long beat. Natalie reluctantly uncurled from her position, removing her shirt just enough to peek out of the hole.
Did he leave?
Natalie’s nose bumped into Satan’s chin and she jumped, trying to curl back into herself.
“You didn’t leave!” she whined, kicking her leg out into his side. He caught it, pinning it to the side of the couch. “I said it’s OK! I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“How am I supposed to leave when you asked the most bizarre question on the planet?” Satan retorted, growling when her knee clocked him in the chin. “Stop kicking me!”
Natalie’s head was pulled out of the safety of her shirt, her hair a frizzy mess. She felt disoriented, but still managed to frown at him. Natalie tried to pull her leg back when they bumped into the orb, the item falling off the couch with a loud thump.
Her heart shot into her throat.
“Don’t let that break!” she shrieked, no longer willing to tease or go along with this anymore. Upon seeing the terror overcoming Natalie’s face, Satan recoiled, allowing her to squeeze out of his grasp and onto the floor.
“Did it break? Is there a crack? Do you see any cracks?” Natalie asked, frantically inspecting the glass. She held it out to Satan, worry palpable on her face, enough to make him hesitate.
“This isn’t a nightlight, is it, kid?” Satan said after a moment, carefully watching Natalie hugging the glass ball to her chest, her expression pensive. “Hey, look at me,” he ordered when she ignored him.
Natalie reluctantly peered up under the fringe of her bangs, pursing her lips.
“. . . No.”
Satan inhaled, long and deep, rubbing the back of his neck. Natalie expected a string of angry questions, interrogating her further on her behavior; to behave like her Satan would do. But he just remained silent.
Natalie set the orb down in front of her, taking her own calming breath.
“Hey, Satan?”
“Mm?”
“Can I just ask you one thing?” Natalie met his eyes, wondering briefly where she got the courage to say the words she’d even wanted to say back home; back where she really belonged, to a man with the same face but who was so very different. “Do you love me here?”
Never had her voice sounded so tiny to her own ears. She remembered the bus stop when she was sick; how she’d told him she loved him and was met with silence. The Satan there wasn’t much of a talker. He was closed off and broody and angry most of the time, but she was patient enough to never push him.
It didn’t mean the silence didn’t hurt a little, though.
The Satan here, sitting on the couch, was looking at her with a sense of subdued surprise. It was brief, but Natalie felt her heart thundering in her chest, waiting for that rejection, before he shut his mouth and nodded.
Perhaps, just a little bit, Natalie was tempted to pick this day to break the glass.
But only a little bit.
XXXXX
In some strange way, the opportunities plant was kind of like clothing shopping.
Every store she would go into would be different, but she would know that in every store she was looking for a dress. And even though every dress was something to wear, they were all different as well.
She could pick any dress she wanted, but they’d all suit the same purpose.
Some “dresses” were terrible bargains that Natalie would never even look twice at; like the reality where Satan died fighting Titus, haughty and distracted, left like some roadkill on the side of the road out in that field decimated by craters; or like the reality where he hated her for being a weak, revolting human that she was.
But some “dresses” were kind of tempting; like the reality where he held her hand more gently than she ever knew he was capable of; like the reality where he’d laugh more freely, as if unburdened for a change because Hell was never put inside of him to begin with. The realities where he kissed her, soft and tender under the moonlight in her bedroom.
In the end, though, none of these were her place to stay. She had gone into this thinking of it like a game. And it had been, at first. But Natalie felt guilty for all the mornings where she was hesitant. The mornings she was tempted to break open the glass and start watering that damn plant to stay with a different Satan.
She chewed at her lip, sighing to herself for even thinking about leaving the Satan she knew.
She was never going to pick one of these places.
“I might as well go return it right now,” Natalie murmured to herself, looking at the orb that was now more than half filled with dead leaves. She held it up to her face, a warped reflection staring back at her.
“I still can’t figure out where this dang light is coming from,” she huffed, shaking the ball around and disrupting the tiny plant that used to be a jungle once upon a time.
“I wonder if there’s a way to see,” Natalie pondered, standing up and walking into the kitchen. Maybe she just needed better lighting.
“Woah, watch it there,” Alex exclaimed, jumping back when Natalie ran into his chest. Natalie yelped in surprise, unaware that her dad had been home this entire time.
The orb hit the tiles with a loud crash, shattering at her feet.
Natalie’s mouth fell open, horrified at the shards now littering the floor. The opportunity plant lay on its side, the scattered leaves that had died surrounding it like lost feathers from a wing. The blue and purple light flickered, then faded to nothing.
“Holy crap,” Natalie breathed, fisting her fingers through her hair. “It broke . . . I broke it. I don’t even know what reality this is yet and I broke it,” she rambled hectically under her breath, bending down to collect the leaves and shards of glass. Her hands trembled so violently she nearly missed every leaf, cutting her fingers open in the process.
“Woah, woah, hold on. Natalie, calm down. What’s the problem?” Alex asked, kneeling down to see his daughter panicking.
“I broke it!” she yelled. Alex faltered.
“That’s OK. We can fix it. Here, I’ll get a broom,” he offered helpfully. Alex stood to get a dustpan long enough for Natalie to abandon the glass and dead leaves for the actual plant, shoving it behind her when he returned.
“Was this some sort of science project?” he asked awkwardly when Natalie remained quiet.
“Yeah, uh. It was. It was really important.”
“Oh.”
Natalie cleared her throat, standing on legs that felt as strong as twigs. She kept the plant hidden behind her back so her father couldn’t see. The plant was warm underneath her fingers, and Natalie almost jumped in her horror to feel it had it’s own heartbeat.
“Do you need me to get you another jar? I feel terrible. I don’t want you to fail because of me,” Alex asked, emptying the dustpan into the garbage. He looked to Natalie for a response but she just gave him a tight smile.
“Nope. Hey dad, is Stan coming over today?”
Alex cocked his head to the side. “Stan?”
Natalie swallowed around the terrified lump in her throat. Oh no, was this a morning where Satan wasn’t here? Her hands felt clammy against the waxy substance of the leaves in her palm.
Alex hummed and rubbed his chin. “I don’t think so. I didn’t hear anything about it.”
Natalie nearly collapsed in her relief. She kept herself composed, however, and nodded. “OK. I’m going to go out for a bit. Tell him to wait here for me if he comes over. I’ll be right back!”
When Natalie went to lock the front door, her hand missed the keyhole three times. She cursed until she finally got it, then started running for the bus stop.
“I’m done, alright? I won’t play with it anymore,” Natalie yelled to the sky. Hopefully that shopkeeper could reverse it like he said he would.
XXXXX
“You’ve got to be be kidding me.”
Natalie clutched the plant to her chest, gazing at a grocery deli in front of her. She circled around the building, even through the alleyways, but no matter the angle the reality was still the same: this building was a deli.
Natalie entered the store, the bell on the door jingling behind her. There were two other customers waiting in line, sparing her no attention. Natalie peered around the shop, seeing different meats on shelves and freezers. Nothing about this building was mystical or magical, but she could clearly see from the layout that it was, in fact, the shop.
“Miss?”
Natalie jumped, turning her attention to the bearded man behind the counter. She approached nervously.
“Do you just sell food here?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Nothing else at all?” Natalie inquired, feeling desperate. She wasn’t used to feeling like this. The last time she did had been when she terminated her contract.
But in this reality, who knew if that was even true?
“I’m looking for a guy. Short guy, long nose, really tiny. He’s got crazy hair, like he’s never owned a brush before. Kinda looks like a bird?” Natalie rattled out, hoping that this man knew anything helpful. Anything at all.
He regarded her quizzically before nodding. “He used to own this building?”
Natalie smiled, nodding. “Yeah! Do you know where he is?”
“Nah, I’m sorry, Miss. I bought this place four years ago. Haven’t seen him since. I think he moved upstate or something.”
“U-upstate?”
“I think so. Sorry, I don’t really know. You gonna buy anything?”
Natalie pursed her lips, staring down at the plant in her hands. There was a tiny thrumming under her fingers where its heart beat. She covered it and pulled it back into her sweatshirt, retreating from the counter.
“Thanks for the help.”
The bell jingled as she exited, reminding her how close she would have been had she not been clumsy on this particular day.
XXXXX
Satan was sitting on her bed when she got home, arms folded and ankles crossed against her mattress. At first Natalie thought he’d been sleeping. His face was relaxed more than it usually was when he was awake, but upon shutting her door with a click, his eyes opened.
Natalie remained by the door, unsure of what he was going to be like today. There had been a day where he had slapped her. She didn’t dare approach him until she knew who it was she was forced to be with for all eternity.
Gosh, she’d never see the one she wanted to again. Her throat tightened on itself, Natalie drawing in a shallow breath. She kept her shoulders straight and her chest up, however. This wasn’t something she wouldn’t be able to handle.
“Morning,” Natalie greeted, but the lack of enthusiasm in her voice belied her weariness.
Satan glanced at the clock on her dresser. “It’s almost two.”
She smiled halfheartedly. “Is it? Sorry, dude. I lost track of time.”
“Where did you go? I was stuck playing chess with your father for two hours. Chess,” he complained, narrowing his eyes in displeasure.
Natalie let herself relax a little, stepping further into her room at the casual banter. So this Satan wasn’t one of the ones that hated her. That was a good sign.
“I was . . . out.”
“Out where? You don’t have anywhere to go,” he snorted. His eyes tracked her movements around the room, making her feel like an animal he was hunting. She wiped her sweaty palms against her jeans, removing her sweatshirt and draping it over the corner of her computer chair.
“I was out with Laila,” Natalie lied, hoping he’d drop it. Confusion colored his irritated expression.
“Who?”
“She’s a friend from school. You know Laila. We went to Oregon together; black hair. Remember? Gosh, you’re getting so old if you’re forgetting stuff like that,” Natalie laughed.
“You don’t have any friends,” Satan scoffed.
Natalie blinked at him, pausing. “I don’t?”
“No one except for that nerd who talks to you because he feels obligated.”
Great. I picked a reality where I don’t have friends, Natalie internally complained. Well, that wasn’t too terrible. She was an outgoing person. She’d make some later.
“Then I meant I was at the movies with him. Slip of the tongue,” Natalie shrugged. Satan didn’t look like he believed her, but before he could question her further Natalie cut him off. “What have you been up to?”
Satan bobbed his head to the side, squinting at her. “Since when did you ever wanna know that?”
Natalie twiddled her fingers together idly. “Uh, always?” she supplied, sounding uncertain by the skepticism and curiosity on his face.
“Please don’t ask if I’m feeling OK. I’ve heard that way too much these past couple of months,” Natalie stated, rubbing her temples when Satan continued to make her feel antsy under his gaze.
She moved to sit down, her jacket shifting and catching Satan’s attention. “What’s that thing?”
“Huh?” Natalie muttered, not even remotely interested in whatever it was he was saying.
“This thing. Looks like something out of the Amazon,” Satan said, leaning forward and pulling the plant from her hoodie pocket. Natalie glanced at him, going stiff and ripping it out of his hands.
“Give me that! You’ll break it!”
Satan sneered. “Break what?” he demanded, snatching it back. Two petals were forcibly torn off, causing Natalie to scream.
“You’re breaking it! Lucifer, please, don’t make this worse on me! I don’t want to be stuck here with you,” Natalie blurted in her panic, bending down and picking the leaves up. They shriveled brown before they’d even hit the floor. A whine crawled up from her throat when seeing them dead against her palms.
“What do you mean ‘stuck here with you’?” Satan asked from above her, the air grown thick with tension while he’d watched her lament the death of the plant.
Natalie froze, unwilling to dare a peek at Satan. There was something about his voice that raised the hairs on her arms. It wasn’t cruel, but it demanded obedience. Maybe this Satan was more straight edged than Natalie was used to.
“Kid, I asked you a question. What the hell is this thing?” Satan asked. When Natalie remained silent, he frowned. “Answer me or I’ll torch it.”
“No!” Natalie protested, her head shooting up in alarm. “Alright, alright. I’ll tell you. Just, don’t hurt the plant anymore. That’s all I have left.”
Satan cocked his head to the side and waited for Natalie to explain.
“So, there was this shop that used to be in town,” Natalie started. “It sold some really weird things, and I bought that plant. But that plant makes me wake up to a different you every morning, isn’t that funny?”
Satan didn’t smile. Natalie sighed.
“Anyway, I’m not supposed to break the glass, but I did this morning, and if I don’t get it back to that shop guy then I’m stuck here with . . . you.” Natalie awkwardly coughed into her hand, avoiding his eyes.
“And you wouldn’t want to be stuck here.” Natalie glanced up. “With me,” Satan finished, pointing to his face with a scowl.
“Uh.”
“How did you say that and not think it would be insulting?”
“I don’t know,” Natalie grumbled. “I don’t know what kinda guy you are. I’ve met some who are really mean to me. Do we even like each other?” she asked curiously.
Satan balked, looking offended. Natalie could see the red bleeding into his horns the more she spoke, but despite the clear anger on his face, his horns weren’t the only things turning red.
“You’re mocking me now?” Satan growled, standing up from the bed with a huff. Natalie was at a loss, completely unsure how she was supposed to act when she didn’t know what kind of reality this was.
“How am I mocking you? I’m just asking you a question. Do I like you here? Do you like me? This isn’t rocket science. I just wanted to know if you were friendly.”
“If I’m frie- Shut up, Natalie!” Satan hissed. “Why should I believe your stupid story about this flower? It’s fucking ugly. I should just throw it away.”
“No! I said I need it,” Natalie said, standing up and trying to yank it out of his hands. He held it above her head easily enough. He still looked pissed off, but there was a curiosity in his gaze that gave Natalie hope.
“If the flower dies, I don’t know what will happen. What if I die? I need to put it in water just in case,” Natalie explained, jumping up to grab it. She must’ve said something right because the flower was lowered immediately.
Natalie took that opportunity to take it back, retreating to the other side of the room protectively. Natalie pouted in his direction, wondering why he suddenly looked so withdrawn.
“You’re not just pulling my leg with this shit, are you?” Satan muttered, frowning to himself in his unsureness.
“Duhhhhhh,” Natalie spit, intentionally mocking him this time.
“I’ll- Then I’ll get it water,” Satan said, leaving the room in a flurry that surprised even Natalie. She stared at the door in shock until he entered a few seconds later, a pitcher in his hand. Natalie was reluctant, but let him take the plant from her and place it in the water.
“What happens to the leaves?”
“Huh?”
Satan looked up, then looked away, almost seeming ashamed. He rubbed the back of his neck and moved to sit on the bed.
“You freaked out when some leaves fell off. Why?”
“I don’t know what happens when it dies, but I do know if I want to leave this version of you I just don’t water the plant. But there aren’t that many leaves left, and for all I know all the other yous are mean. So, for now, you’re the best option I have until I can figure out what to do,” Natalie admitted quietly, her fingers playing gently with the plant in her lap.
Satan gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing, now staring intently at the fragile plant he’d almost destroyed with a sense of awe. Natalie observed him curiously, wondering where the change of heart came from.
“You never answered my question.”
Satan’s ears twitched as he cautiously looked at her. He furrowed his brow, but this time he didn’t seem quite as aggravated as before. With a long inhale, Satan huffed and ran his hands over his face, catching on his eyelids as he let them linger in annoyance.
At least his mannerisms are the same, Natalie thought, satisfied.
“No. You don’t like me,” Satan admitted, his voice tinged with a bitterness that Natalie hadn’t heard since she’d dated Jericho.
Natalie paused. “Oh.”
“But . . . I like you,” he grumbled, standing up again. Satan folded his arms and paced her bedroom, unable to keep himself still.
“You seem . . . nice,” Natalie supplied, getting Satan to stop his movements. “Why wouldn’t I like you? I mean, you’re a little obnoxious, but you’re not a bad guy.”
Satan stared at the wall as if he wished he could burn a hole through it with his eyes. This clearly wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have. Maybe it was one they’d already had?
“I scared your friends away,” he finally admitted.
“It was an accident. You’re the Devil,” Natalie started to reassure. “Some people are just going to think you’re-”
“I did it on purpose and you got mad.”
“Oh.”
Natalie felt the tension coming back, feeling antsy herself now that she heard this admission. She started picking at the carpet threads to busy her hands.
“Well, I can make friends again. If they didn’t want to be around me because of you, then they weren’t really my-”
“And your family.”
“Huh?”
“You don’t have a very good . . . relationship with your family right now,” Satan muttered, refusing to look at Natalie.
“Why?”
“There were some fights. And I might’ve been a bit of a catalyst.”
“Oh.”
“Your brother deleted you from his contacts.”
Natalie felt her hands fisting in the carpeting. “What happened? I don’t understand. You seem normal. What’s so different about this reality?”
“Like I said, I like you,” Satan growled, turning around to yell at a different wall. Natalie could see his ears turning red, even from the poor angle she had of him. “I got jealous a lot. I didn’t handle it well. So we don’t get along.”
Natalie blinked. She had not been expecting that. Yeah, there was liking someone, but it wasn’t exactly normal to isolate them from their personal life. Although, she wasn’t sure how much emotional damage was done. Perhaps she could still salvage her relationships in this reality.
“You’re like a five year old,” Natalie said, unintentionally speaking her thoughts. She hadn’t realized it until Satan spun around, furious.
“Don’t fuckin’ call me that! Jesus, think before you speak sometimes, Natalie. Everything you say is always so insulting to me. Cut me some slack.”
Natalie held her hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry.”
Satan frowned, the muscles in his neck tense. Despite the anger, Natalie could see how miserable he was. She wasn’t sure what kind of life this Satan led, or what she’d said to him if this version of herself hated him, but she’d never like that look on Satan’s face, no matter the situation.
“I love you, you know.”
Satan flinched.
“Well, I mean, I just met you. But I meant you as a whole,” Natalie shrugged. “Every single one of you. So, uh, does that make you feel better?”
He stared at her, the fury bleeding out of his form like a deflating balloon. He looked so young here, surprise overtaking him with wide eyes and drooping ears. Natalie couldn’t help but feel for the guy; he’d probably never heard that from anyone in his life, he looked so dumbfounded.
“But you’d still hate to be stuck here with me.”
Natalie averted her eyes, staring at the plant in the pitcher. “I have my own place to be. I can’t stay here, Satan. I’m sorry.”
Satan moved forward, kneeling in front of the plant, something pinched crossing his face. For a moment, Natalie thought the plant had come back to life, glowing dully in front of her again. She blinked, looking up to see the light haze of purple illuminated like a dying bulb from his horns.
“You should probably let this out of the water then,” he muttered.
“I don’t want it to die. What if -”
“So don’t let it die,” Satan suggested, looking at her like she was a moron. Natalie paused. “You said the shop’s not here anymore, right? So see if it’s there tomorrow. Then fix it.”
Natalie hesitated, knowing he was right, but unsure if she wanted to take the risk. Memories of a beach painted orange and pink, of a warehouse caught in flames, of a grinning man glowing practically yellow in excitement came to the forefront of her mind.
Natalie picked up the plant and gently placed it outside of the pitcher.
“Hey, I still have the rest of the day,” Natalie said, reaching out and touching Satan’s arm. He blinked quickly a few times before straightening, looking at the floor like it was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen.
“You’re a good guy, argh!” Natalie yelled, punching his arm this time. He looked at her now, surprised. “If I know me like I know me, then I don’t really hate you. You just gotta not be so controlling. Let me go out with other people sometimes, dude. Believe me, that will give you some brownie points back, OK?”
Satan had that dumbfounded look on his face again, but the dull purple faded away to red. He pursed his lips and swallowed, but nodded.
“Good. So, how about that movie, then?”
XXXXX
“It’s here!” Natalie gasped, jumping up and down, gripping onto Satan’s arm in her excitement. He swayed in boredom, half asleep from the nap she’d woken him up from.
“It’s not open. It’s 6 A.M., kid. Why the hell did you drag me here at 6 A.M?” Satan groaned, yawning into his fist. It did nothing to stop Natalie’s hopping. She quickly tugged at him, standing with a grin beside the door.
“We’ll be first in line.”
“There’s never any line. There’re never any customers. Fuck you, girl. I wanna die,” Satan muttered, placing his forehead against the brick wall and shutting his eyes. He grew still, and Natalie wondered after a while if he actually fell asleep like that.
She reached out a hand to tap him but stopped before she could when he spoke.
“Don’t touch me.”
Natalie smiled. This version wasn’t so bad. As far as she could tell, this reality was identical to her own, except that Satan seemed to be a bit sleepier here.
“Once we finish up here I’ll get you a coffee, does that sound OK?”
“Mrph.”
Three hours later and a sore back, the shopkeeper finally showed up. He hesitated with his key in the lock, noticing the grinning human sitting on the ground and the glaring Devil beside her.
“I’d like to return something, please.”
XXXXX
“You just add water?” Natalie balked.
She stared in disbelief as he added water to the glass, encasing it in a new orb and putting it back on the shelf.
“Yes.”
“Is that, like, magic water or something?” Natalie asked, trying her damndest not to punch him square in the face.
“No, it’s tap water,” he explained dryly, walking away from her and going behind the curtain into the next room. Natalie clenched her teeth together and tried to follow him but he shooed her away.
“So, if I had just kept it in water last night it would’ve grown back?!”
“Yes. Once it grows back the cycle starts all over again. The leaf at the top will be the reality you left. You don’t get to pick your fate. Why would I give you something that dangerous?” he scoffed.
“B-but you said-”
“Yes, yes. You’re angry. You’re disappointed. Go post a bad review on yelp and get it out of your system. Have a good day. Tomorrow you’ll be fine since I’m growing the plant back.”
Natalie found herself shoved out into the street, at a loss for words. Satan blinked up at her from his spot on the cement.
“Get your refund?”
“I think . . . he pranked me.”
“That’s not hard.”
Natalie frowned, opening the door and glaring at the shopkeeper refilling a jar of what looked like something that used to be alive once.
“Before, you told me to not let the plant die. Was that just to scare me, too?”
He paused, snapping the rubber glove onto his hand and looked her dead in the eyes.
“No, you would have died.”
Natalie wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not, but she didn’t press her luck.
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televinita · 7 years
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Zoo 3.12
Preview: Sam can go DIAF with Abigail, Interrupting Dariela is the worst and the writers need to stop using her to squee-block me, Mitch/Jamie is my everything and I need Jackson to come back into the fold with them, and how the hell did I come up with so many words for an episode that was mostly plot advancement and only had like five standout scenes.
Mitch/Jamie 1. Looks like at least part of my headcanon last week about Mitch letting Jamie out can't be jossed! I'm so glad we got this scene in a sneak peek, because I replayed Jackson's indignation and Mitch's cheerfully dismissive response to it about 80 times. 2. Would it be irresponsible of me to assume that they spent last night together? Because part of me is still wondering if they've even touched in the wake of everything, but I would really like to believe they drowned their sorrows in each other. I don’t know how to reconcile the easy banter of the next number or the fact that they don’t touch in this episode. 3. I love the glee Mitch takes in pestering Jamie about her apparent fear of babies, all geared up to tease her mercilessly -- this must be the most fun he's had in days -- and how fast the truth wipes the smug smirk off his face. It's beautiful and terrible and I hope it socked him right in the gut to see the extent of the damage his words did. If he didn't introduce the thought into her head, he sure cemented whatever doubts she already had. 3.5. And kudos to Kristen Connolly for being able to sell those lines with a straight face, because on paper it looks hella dramatic to be like "I'm so awful that I will physically curse a baby if I touch it" 4. I am little embarrassed that my headcanon gets shot down when Mitch not only doesn't take back the darkness line, he doubles down to include himself in it -- but I also really, really like him admitting he would have killed Abigail himself?  "I've been thinking" is a fic prompt and I would love a little character study of Mitch coming to this realization, but either way, I’m intrigued by Dark!Mitch. I want the antidote in hand, I need to be able to believe they will eventually run away and find the light at the end of tunnel, but right now I could be very into a Dark & Twisty OTP of Pain and Feelings. 5. "She kept me away from everything and everyone I ever cared about. Everyone I love." Said with bold and unflinching eye contact and I am 6% frustrated that this is about the third time he's confessed his feelings and Jamie is still batting a hundred on insufficient reactions to them, but 94% overjoyed that the L word is out there to more than just some thugs in a bar. Sometimes there are more exciting ways to hear it than the standard 3-word way. (not that I would turn that down) 6. Now I just need to know who is responsible for Interrupting Dariela arriving on TWO SEPARATE OCCASIONS instead of extending either "darkness" convo scene literally ten or twelve more seconds for some kind of proper resolution before a scene change. Tell me he wasn’t about to reach for her hand in the first one. (Also. It takes a magnifying glass and freeze framing, but I'm pretty sure in the split second before they get interrupted the second time, it looks like their hands were or about to be in contact and are drawing apart as the shot goes wide?) A Series Of Live Viewing Reactions To Clem's Baby Daddy 1. Awwww @ Sam hoping (in vain) that Mitch will accept him as a real member of the family. 2. WHAT THE SHIT, SAM. I TRIED TO BE NICE TO YOU. 3. All right, abort that whole plan from last week about letting him be HOH, Sam can fuck off and die and I hope Mitch takes such full ownership of the baby* that he takes to introducing him to people as "my kid, once removed." I'm not Jackson and I don't care who was raised by a madwoman. If Abe's voice + everyone's love for Clementine didn't convince you you're on the wrong team, you are beyond help and I’ll put you down.
*I don't think I can fully convey to you the amount I love Mike Baxter's relationship with Boyd on Last Man Standing, mostly because I'm not sure how many people know this show exists. 4. ...ABIGAIL R U SERIOUS. (Guys, I'm sorry if I previously claimed to be off the sympathy-for-the-devil train; those were lies but I am sure as hell off it now with her baby-snatching reveal and subsequent taunting. That's not even emotional torture porn, that is just cruelty for its own sake.) 5. Welp, I think you know what this means, Mitch and Jackson bonding over shooting straight from raising a baby to parenting a 20-year-old Y/Y?? 6. But seriously, I am so upset at not even considering this theory before today. He's the right age! He's a conveniently random orphan! This show is all, "People love twists!" I kept assuming the father of the Miracle Baby had to be someone super significant! The biggest kicker of all is that I've assumed from the get-go that Jackson's late wife was black (which I hope is not somehow racist to assume?), and Sam is right there looking plausibly biracial as heck, and somehow not once did those two threads of thought ever cross. Come On Guys, Be Bros When I made this tongue-in-cheek request last year re: Mitch and Jackson, I could not in my wildest dreams have imagined them to one day share a grandchild, so while I honestly don't care how Jackson's being-a-daddy issues will play out, I care VERY MUCH what it means that he and Mitch are now on the same family tree, starting with how he now has an ironclad excuse to bond with Clementine and never be out of her life again. (I guess he can bond with his actual kid too. if he must.)
But that short chat on the upper level, just listening to them talk about their respective families is like catnip to my ears. I don't know how I'm supposed to read Mitch's expression after Jackson walks off in his "you worry about your family, let me worry about mine" huff, so I've elected to interpret it as "You're my family too, dumbass." (hush and let me have my dream) (Also I would kind of like to know why Jackson is still as willing to talk rationally with Mitch as he is given that Mitch is on Team Jamie, or as Jackson prefers to call it, She Devil Incarnate. I mean, it boils down to Jackson being a sexist jerk, but I still want to have All The Thinky Thoughts about how Mitch functions as a go between.) Beta Ship 2.0 MY SHIP RADAR IS BACK ON AND FULLY FUNCTIONING. I don't want to scare it away by being too excited about it. Just know that my heart burst into bloom when they got their reunion hug*, crescendoed for the kiss, and by the time they were fawning over the baby together it was pretty well at a tea kettle pitch. *Abe and Dariela take over as the center of the frame immediately, but am I looking at it or listening to them at all? No. I'm trying to shove them out of the way and peering at the edge of the screen where my new faves are nearly out of the frame, persistently tracking Jackson's hands on Tessa as they examine her cut and cup the back of her head and asdlkasjdfasd time to go dig up the 3x01 Time Capsule O' Sweetness. Various and Sundry -I enjoyed the writers finally acknowledging how awfully prone to hacking / general failure this plane is. -This was going to be its own category, but it's late, so suffice to say that Mitch + Not Being A Mess Of Emotions About His Dead Father was very nicely dovetailed with concern for Clem and a cute debate about baby names, and I'm just happy they addressed it all, if still annoyed that the impact of Max's death on Jamie was not. -Jackson takes up Mitch's vacated seat next to Clementine when the plane starts falling and has his hand bracing the baby's head and yes hello I am dying. -Clem is so excited to offer her baby to Jamie for holding, even eager to reassure her "you won't hurt him," and yes hello I am dying again. -"I know I'm right. Want to be more specific?" = thank u for this small slice of "sass that totally happens in the Normal World AU of Domesticity" (also, the pushing up his glasses bit here? ridiculously cute)
-"I don't need you to tell me what needs to be done [about Abigail]." OK Jackson, but like...you kinda do.   
-I told you before I had 18 heart attacks watching this episode live, so I don't think it's unreasonable to mention dying again re: the part where Jamie has the baby foisted upon her before she can protest, and Baby immediately stops crying*... Wait, no, this is the opposite of dying. This moment is Life.
-*nice insufficient reaction to noticing her finally holding the baby, Mitch. Who is directing this episode, because they are Bad at it. -I literally could not be more neutral about Logan's face or potential longevity. I am a 0 on the PH scale of feelings. -Everything about Jackson's final face off with Abigail and her stupid endless villain gloating was the wooorst. -I am a little concerned that reaching the barrier is supposed to qualify as our traditional episode 12 "get off now if you want this series to have a happy ending" exit, both because it's not that satisfying and because there is way too much left unresolved. I can only hope this means that we'll get it near the end of the real finale, with only a tiny twist at the end to set up a hypothetical season 4 that can be easily pinched off and forgotten if need be. Up Next: I'm not sure if I can watch the finale live. I have to have all my work done 6 hours earlier than usual, and then I'm taking off to go dog-sit all day, and if I watch it live I am gonna be useless from the time it starts airing until I drop from emotional exhaustion around 3 AM. If I can get enough work done by 9 PM, I probably will, but I also kind of want to savor it in case this is the last new one I ever get.
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latinalesbi · 7 years
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I love you account so much😍😍😍
Thank you! I am glad you enjoy it!
Anonymous said:                                                                                  The mamas look sooooo happy. I love Teri's laugh lines in the new picture.  
I love that they are mature women and they are beautiful.
Anonymous said:                                                                      ahhhh all these Stef and Lena/Sherri and Teri pictures❤️ They make me so excited for the new season!!            
God me too. I am actually pretty excited, which I wasn’t. It’s been a long time since they have promoted them. I feel like we have been extra blessed and that the social media has been focused on them. It makes me happy to see.
Anonymous said:                                                                                 They didn't even bother to cover Teri's tattoo 😍😍😍😍😭🔥             
Lol, yes, that’s what makes the videos at least seem like Sherri Polo. The one still they released does seem like Stef and Lena, partly because they cut off Teri’s 80s hair lol But also the energy!
Anonymous said:                                                                                  When I talk about their chemistry in real life vs in character I mean just in general.  Lately, it's been glaringly obvious but even in moments when they're not posing (the FB live video at the beginning of last season for instance) there's just something about the way they look at each other.  That's not friendship.  That's love.  This is more of a statement than anything else. lol They really are just so hot and sexy together.  Seriously.            
I love your comment. I’ll just let it stand here. It’s double the fun for shippers.
Anonymous said:                                                                               u know what ? Sherri posts more pictures w Teri than with her husband and i am living. plus i feel like her connection w Teri might make Sherri's man perhaps uneasy at times. i mean the guy is so weird of course hell be uneasy             
I saw some tweet that captured Sherri’s instagram and says, it looks like Sherri is married to Teri. And it does. I know if I was that man married to Sherri, it would bother me. Apparently he’s not, so kudos to him.
Anonymous said:                                                                        Lena & Stef are amazing parents because they aren't threatened by bio family. They know they are their children's parents. Every single child has also chosen them as parents at least one (often more than once) during the course of the show. As a viewer of the show, yes, I would rather the focus be on Lena, Stef, and the children. That has always been the draw. But as a "family" this idea that the bio family can't be a part of their live is short-sighted. If my kids can find a least 1 good thingabout their bio family - I'm happy. They're old enough to know that their parents' genes made them. Hating all of that means they hate themselves, and I would never want that. Neither do Stef & Lena. They always have the best interests of their children at heart - sometimes at the expense of their relationship. Adoptive and foster parents have to be strong enough to deal with the possible inclusion of bio family - that's what makes us our children's parents. The best parents they have.             
They aren’t threatened? I guess you missed the episodes where they have hated their presence in their life. Most recently, Lena has verbally expressed her disgust at Ana for what she did with the twins and she lost Franky. She didn’t think that was fair. She also feels like they kids don’t love her enough because she’s not biologically related to anyone in her house. Yet, they put their feelings aside. Not everyone can be as altruistic as they are. They suck it up because they have to, but there were times when they set clear boundaries. When Ana and Gabe appeared to be threats, they have banned the kids from seeing them. When Ana showed up drunk to Mariana’s party, I would have banned her again, but that was hard to do because Mike at that point had found another pathetic excuse to stay close to the family and started dating Ana. They were not happy to have loser, unemployed Gabe in their home. I hope that story is told realistically. No one would want a leech in their home. Not everything is that simple. I get that it’s drama, but those hetero-bio loving people cannot impose that these parasites become as important as Stef and Lena. They never will be. Callie won’t ever live permanently in Robert’s house. I saw complaints that Mike wasn’t in the family picture. Why the fuck should he be? He’s got his own family.
I am just a proponent that DNA does not make a family. I have said before that I have biological siblings that I have never met. I don’t feel a pull towards them at all. I have no need to meet them. Sometimes, I think, I love my siblings because I grew up with them, but I am not sure they’d be my friends if they were strangers. We don’t have a lot in common. My genes aren’t everything that makes me. I know many people who have cut off contact with their parents because they are horrible damaging people. They don’t think they are terrible people because they don’t like their DNA providers. That’s silly. No one deserves to be in your life if they hurt you.
Believe me I know the level of involvement of biological families in foster situations. That is certainly a consideration and the way the Fosters has presented it has certainly discouraged many people from reaching out to kids who right now are living in group homes and institutions.  If these parents were good for their kids, they wouldn’t have lost them in the first place. I think there are smart ways of dealing with visitation and contact and I am certain that the way the Fosters has done it is not the best way to deal with it.
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ririthedevil · 7 years
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So i was wondering, since youre a labour supporter, what do you think of the anti semitic scandals in the party? Because personally i hate the conservative party but i hate the way labour has been operating so this is really hard for me. Dont you believe that the anti semitism in the party should be a deal breaker?
Okay firstly, I really apologise for taking so long to reply to this. I felt if I should answer this question I need to articulate myself correctly as well as provide a bit of background - but that definitely doesn’t mean I am well rehearsed on the subject so please forgive me anon if I have missed anything out.
It has been known that the Labour Party has been institutionally anti-Semitic. Proof of this lies within the party’s failure to expel Ken Livingstone from the party I would argue, after countless times of trying to defend MP Naz Shah and supporting the idea that Hitler was supporting Zionism (which we know his BS). Despite being proven of his prejudice, under their own rules, Labour only gave him a lengthened ban. This isn’t the first offence of his either - ranging from supporting known anti-Jewish figures (naming them as progressive) to making horrid, disgusting, prejudice remarks to Jewish journalists. There have also been various anti-Semitic tales riddled within Jeremy’s own campaign, most prominently with him comparing Israel to the Islamic State. I find it hard though to read these things in the paper, because I just find UK media is so riddled with bias I can never receive the clear picture (it would be better if I could watch this kind of stuff, as I mostly just read it on articles nowadays).
It is without doubt the Labour Party has had extreme problems with such dealings - and I particular hate the fact all they do is defend themselves rather than admitting their mistakes and apologising to the Jewish community (particular for Livingstone who has always been a buffoon). That isn’t to say however I feel that this is a Party issue. A few do not represent the many - which is hilarious because technically a party needs to be that. But we know from life itself that this is not the case. We can also see divide showing itself more recently within U.K. parties, with Conservatives split with Brexit and Labour in shambles so recently (this time last year I would say) with their faith in their leader. I’m not excusing them for anti-Semitism, but I also wonder if by the comparison of the Islamic State and Israel (I’d have been more specific here, I’ll extend later) Jeremy was considering the atrocities behind the Palestinian atrocities led on by Israel governments. Again we could go into a full on separate argument about this latter case but let’s keep to this argument on Labour. I also feel like if anti-Semitism really was the pinnacle of Labour’s Party, why would Jewish MPs like Mike Katz still be in a place to represent such a party against their beliefs. (But I do hate that argument too - because I would say this is like the ‘I can’t be racist because I have a black friend’ excuse too so feel I should put that out there).
But the way I have to think of it is like this - who is the candidate best for myself and the things I aspire for my friends and country? Who stands against prejudice amongst racism and sexism, and who is more likely to draw a line with Trump? Who is going to support the NHS which has gotten me through so much rather than privatise it continuously? Who isn’t a sheep of the USA despite the constant slandering within the British media? What about people calling him a terrorist sympathiser, despite the fact during the peak of IRA he never supported them, he only negotiated with them for peace. There is a large difference.
Okay so I have to be careful here, because 100% I am not fully informed and I promise to get better at this.
Ughhhh it’s difficult because you are so right, Labour has had an anti-Semitic rhetoric - mostly I would argue within its defence which does not include admitting their mistakes. But I really want to believe profoundly within Jeremy Corbyn that his own comments were not fully evaluated. But I feel either way an argument could suffice in concerns with whether he was against Israel’s part against Palestinians or the Jewish community - two separate entities in my mind. Yes the Jewish people are a large definition to Israel as a nation; but it doesn’t mean it represents the Jewish community of the world. Unless I am missing something in concerns with him particularly isolating the whole Jewish community of the world (which I could be, feel free to let me know)!
It’s a very selfish choice my one. At the end of the day, I am voting for Jeremy Corbyn to lead through voting my labour MP. I chose Labour because they genuinely are thinking of 'me’ as a student. I won’t slander anyone’s choice in party - as long as they have made the decision on their own and have informed themselves I am content. Everyone has different deal breakers - mine just happens to be I don’t believe May is strong enough to negotiate a good Brexit deal and will end up being Trump’s door mat rather than a partner - again another argument we could have. I also have to think of my borough, and the immense work my MP (Labour) has done for it in a positive direction (and which they continue to do).
I’ll probably add more to this anon! So keep a look out! Hope this suffices so far! And sorry if it makes u angry as well. But please note, it’s also about choosing the lesser of two evils. I don’t think Jeremy is the perfect leader - for instance his decision against the 'shoot to kill’ policy against terrorists on scenes in which armed police have control I am absolutely baffled by. But I do think he represents what I need more than what I want - more so than the Conservative party. Everyone has different deal breakers as well - just depends on which party sometimes has more of them then others! We also cannot forget the sure deal makers!
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freebetalerts-blog · 6 years
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League Two Betting: Managerless Macc to spring a Friday surprise
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League Two Betting: Managerless Macc to spring a Friday surprise Please share.
Low-scoring Tranmere could be vulnerable to the Silkman on Friday, argues Ian Lamont, who picks MK Dons to pile the pressure on Joe Dunne at Cambridge on Saturday, and lays Carlisle at home…
Silkmen showing heart – and goals
Friday October 12, 19:45
Tranmere [1.78] v Macclesfield [5.3]; the draw [4.0]
I’ve often plumped for a “Friday night is shock night” – and here’s a case in point. Something tells me Macclesfield have a chance of achieving what would be a shock result at Prenton Park.
The Silkmen actually seemed to be getting better before Monday’s announcement that they had “parted company” with Mark Yates, the fifth managerial change in League Two this season. Two early season draws had been followed by a string of League Two reverses – four in a row, sandwiched between the League Cup win on penalties at Walsall after a 3-3 draw and the next match in the competition, the 8-0 thrashing at West Ham.
They had already beaten Bradford on penalties after a 1-1 draw, too. Often, players will be distracted by a big cup game looming or a cup run. It’s human nature – whether in their conscious thinking or sub-conscious, that they don’t want to get injured and miss out on the big day. That can often account for a form loss.
And, yes, I am arguing that Macclesfield did have some sort of form – those two draws and some other goals in their first five games. They only failed to score in one of them. So, while “returning to form”, is relative, Yates’ men had proved the point with a 1-1 result against draw kings Forest Green and then a 3-3 draw at Newport, where they led 2-0 (early on) and 3-2 in the 82nd minute, only to concede in the seventh minute of time added on. They followed this with a narrow defeat to Notts County, who are back in form.
Macclesfield noted, in their announcement, that Yates had suffered huge doses of ill-luck with his team, especially on the injury front. They only appointed him in June, and yet they seem to want to bring in someone else to work miracles on the same basis, with the same injured players and presumably same bad luck.
Well, good luck. It worked for Notts County after all. And if it can work for the Magpies, the “new broom” theory, even under a temporary manager, might just work on an autumn evening at Tranmere.
Only Fiacre Kelleher’s poor back pass (and subsequent penalty) cost Macclesfield at Notts County. Which isn’t so much bad luck as an avoidable error. The defender is on Macclesfield’s short list of scorers this season (including in the League Cup), which goes some way to making up for it. Harry Smith and Scott Wilson have to start firing more than a goal each in the league. Peter Vincenti still has goals in him, proven in the 4-1 Football League Trophy defeat on Tuesday.
Tranmere, by much logic, should win here. They beat battling Morecambe 4-3 at the weekend, but their home record is a little bit odd. They have scored either one goal or no goals in their League Two fixtures at home this season – three wins, two draws and a defeat (also only conceded one). They have scored just four and conceded two. So they are there for the taking, even with the likes of James Norwood on board.
As the Silkmen look to impress a new boss – whoever that may be – their tails should be up to make a fight of it. They have at least been scoring. I’m tempted by laying the short-priced Rovers, but I can’t resist a big Friday night price. Back it in the hope of cashing out if you must.
Saturday kick offs, 15:00
McGreal’s marauders look formidable up front
Colchester [1.8] v Crawley [5.2]; the draw [4.0]
Crawley’s form looks impressive, if you look at the six-game form table, in which they lie third. The trouble is they only have 12 points. So the top end of that particular form line is not a great reflection on those occupying it. Usually a third placed team would have 14 points.
In addition, Crawley have a poor away record (two wins from six, four goals and seven against) – and certainly not a good enough to rival Colchester’s at home, which is won four, lost two, with a 16-5 goal difference.
Even without the 6-0 drubbing of Crewe the goal difference is good. As is the fact they have scored in every game bar one – on the opening day.
Luke Norris (5), Frank Nouble (3), Sam Szmodics (3) and Harry Pell (3) make the U’s formidable opponents.
Crawley have also scored in most games – all but two, with both those blanks fired away from home. In their other away games, they have scored only once at a time, apart from the 2-2 draw at Swindon.
Ollie Palmer (4) Dominic Poleon (1) – he’s a better strike than that tally – and Ashley Nathaniel-George (2) don’t seem to be hitting the heights of their hosts, making this one England trip relatively new boss Gabriele Cioffi won’t enjoy. However, I can’t back Colchester at a short price, therefore I am going to go for over 2.5 goals @ [2.04].
Dons to add to Dunne’s Cambridge woes
Cambridge [3.3] v MK Dons [2.4]; the draw [3.55]
With five managerial changes in League Two already this season, the Cambridge board must be thinking about whether they can justify a sixth. Joe Dunne must have a sense of impending doom every time he looks at a league table, given that the U’s are second to bottom with just two wins and two draws and the worst goal difference in League Two, being -14.
They have led in two of their most recent three defeats, 2-0 at Newport but losing 4-2, and scoring against Forest Green but losing 3-1 and having Jake Carroll sent off.
Jevani Brown is enjoying himself, having penned a new contract, Reggie Lambe scored the goals against Newport, but they can’t keep using the “we’ve been unlucky” excuse, especially when they concede so many. That’s a fundamental flaw.
MK Dons will expose this at most opportunities. Kieran Agard and Chuks Aneke are doing their best to fulfil their manager Paul Tisdale’s aim of promotion. Cardiff loanee Rhys Healey is finding his feet now, too. Defenders like Jordan Moore-Taylor won’t have much trouble soaking up the Cambridge attacks.
Injury-hit Shrimps must still have a chance in local affair
Carlisle [1.92] v Morecambe [4.2]; the draw [4.0]
I weighed up whether to go for the win for Lincoln, at [2.2], or victory for Morecambe at [4.4]. The value is with the Shrimps. However, it might be better to lay Carlisle.
I can’t be having Morecambe at such a long price, especially as they have found some wins recently and also scored nine times in four games – two goals in three of those and three against Tranmere before suffering a sucker punch with a minute to go and losing 4-3.
Jim Bentley is right: they shouldn’t be scoring three at home and losing, but they have one of their shorter trips of the season to put that right. AJ Leitch-Smith and Rhys Oates having confidence from scoring in recent games, while Liam Mandeville is capable of chipping in too.
The trouble is the club’s injury list – Bentley says it is the worst he has seen – now might include Kevin Ellison, injured in the Football League Trophy, and Aaron Wildig, who took a knock against Tranmere last weekend. The manager hopes they will be alright for Saturday, even playing through pain.
Carlisle have been inconsistent, losing their last three home games without scoring a goal, while beating Bury and Oldham away. You could understand that record if it was the other way around.
Mike Jones is glad to be back after two months out with injury, but finds strong competition in United’s midfield. John Sheridan’s men will look to put their home form right, but both sides will see this as a great opportunity for points. The hosts seem short to me, so I’m going to lay them, which covers the draw.
Ian’s 2018-19 League Two P/L +5.18pt
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