![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
Well here's a kissing scene
This past weekend was a productive one on the TEF front (three. whole. PAGES!!!) but it came at the expense of me actually taking care of myself like an adult. I had two meals yesterday, one of which was butter and marmalade on toast in the morning, followed by an energy bar at, like, 9 in the evening. That's the price I pay for three pages that might be completely changed by the time it's actually published. Which is a long ways out, since those pages are from, like, the second-to-last chapter :'D
I got on that kick though because the past few days I've been overcome with the urge to write a kiss scene. The problem is, I'm running out of kiss scenes in the ACTUAL FIC to write. (Draw what conclusions you will.) This itch to write kiss scene after kiss scene isn't helped by all the amazing fanart racketballs has been posting (yo), so I'm just, like, Okay, fine brain, you win. I guess I'll write a fucking kiss scene just to get this shit out my system.
Shout-out to racketballs for obvious reasons, as well as the anon who reminded me of the "Butch's escalator" joke from City of Clipsville that acted as the launching off point for this scene. It involves Buttercup taking Butch to an old mall. I wrote an uninteresting set-up to get them in the locale, then realized I was wasting my writing energy on something that's not going to get fleshed out into a bigger story, so I jumped ahead to focus on the kiss scene instead. I also listened to Phoebe Bridgers' cover of Friday I'm in Love on endless repeat while taking down the notes for what this eventually turned into.
Also, this is not part of TEF-canon, but the characterization is TEF-adjacent. Just flexing those kiss scene bones, since TEF proper doesn't give me enough opportunities to write 'em.
--
“Is this place seriously open?” Butch looked around. Every store at the mall’s entrance was gated. “It’s fuckin’ two in the afternoon and there’s nobody here.”
“Oh, it’s open,” Buttercup said. “But it’s like in mall hospice. Come on. There’s a carousel.”
“Shut up.” Butch jogged after her to catch up. “What mall has a fucking carousel in it?”
“Apparently it was a thing for awhile? I dunno. This place was built in the sixties or something. Look, one store’s open. Let’s go get some eyeglasses.”
Butch snorted. “Do they at least have a food court?”
“I think there’s a burger place that’s still here.”
“Man, I can’t believe this place is carpeted. A carpeted mall.”
/uninteresting set-up ends here
Buttercup stopped midway up the broken escalator and looked over the rail. She was arrested by the memory of floating here next to her sisters and the Professor, staring down at the pennies in the fountain that would catch the sunlight. The water splashes would create an endless ripple cycle that caused the coins to wink at her. Now all that met her eye was broken blue tile.
Butch reached the step behind her and looked over the edge, too. “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” she said, feeling a little hollow. “Just remembering stuff.”
“Oh.”
They both stared over the edge in silence. The air itself seemed to go still. His hand settled near hers, brushing against her wrist, and he pulled it back. Neither of them commented on it.
“Feels like this would be the perfect time for some zombies to show up,” he said.
“Ha. It’s a good setting for zombie ground zero.”
“Or ghosts. They should shoot a horror movie here. They wouldn’t even have to dress the place up.”
“We should come back as ghosts and haunt this place.”
He shot her a look out the corner of his eye. "Bitch, who we gonna haunt? This place is dead. There's no one here."
She turned around to face him, bracing both arms against either rail, and hitched her shoulders up in a shrug. "We can haunt each other."
Butch huffed a laugh, his grin softening to a smile. "Stupid. But okay."
He stared at her mouth, level with his eyes. That stillness overtook them again. His hand edged back towards hers, hesitating.
“Maybe we’re ghosts already,” he said, his voice going comically grave. “Maybe it’s that kind of movie, and we’ve been dead the whole time.”
She widened her eyes in mock surprise. “Oh, shit. Plot twist.”
He snorted again, lifting his gaze to meet her eyes for a quick glance before his attention was again drawn to her lips. She couldn't help it; she wet them, a quick dart of her tongue past her teeth. It was so still here.
He placed his foot onto her step, and she backed up—not a lot, just enough to give him more room. His hand drifted over hers, gripping it gently as he pressed himself up towards her. There was heat between them that seemed to intensify as he closed that gap. So much for his ghost theory.
That hollowness she had felt as she stared over the rail dissipated as he drew closer, filled by the deafening drumming of her heart. Her hands clenched underneath his, and she closed her eyes.
His mouth didn't hit hers quite evenly; his lips landed north but he course-corrected in the next instant, fitting the swell of his lips to hers. For a second neither of them moved. It was like they were frozen to the spot, like this escalator that wasn't moving, like this empty, still mall. Like they were part of the scenery. Two ghosts.
She moved first, parting her lips to draw his closer, in between hers. When her tongue swept out again, he stifled a gasp.
And here we are, she thought, as his arms swept around her back, as her own wrapped around his shoulders and they pulled each other closer. They kissed in that empty, hollow place. Haunting each other.
I got on that kick though because the past few days I've been overcome with the urge to write a kiss scene. The problem is, I'm running out of kiss scenes in the ACTUAL FIC to write. (Draw what conclusions you will.) This itch to write kiss scene after kiss scene isn't helped by all the amazing fanart racketballs has been posting (yo), so I'm just, like, Okay, fine brain, you win. I guess I'll write a fucking kiss scene just to get this shit out my system.
Shout-out to racketballs for obvious reasons, as well as the anon who reminded me of the "Butch's escalator" joke from City of Clipsville that acted as the launching off point for this scene. It involves Buttercup taking Butch to an old mall. I wrote an uninteresting set-up to get them in the locale, then realized I was wasting my writing energy on something that's not going to get fleshed out into a bigger story, so I jumped ahead to focus on the kiss scene instead. I also listened to Phoebe Bridgers' cover of Friday I'm in Love on endless repeat while taking down the notes for what this eventually turned into.
Also, this is not part of TEF-canon, but the characterization is TEF-adjacent. Just flexing those kiss scene bones, since TEF proper doesn't give me enough opportunities to write 'em.
--
“Is this place seriously open?” Butch looked around. Every store at the mall’s entrance was gated. “It’s fuckin’ two in the afternoon and there’s nobody here.”
“Oh, it’s open,” Buttercup said. “But it’s like in mall hospice. Come on. There’s a carousel.”
“Shut up.” Butch jogged after her to catch up. “What mall has a fucking carousel in it?”
“Apparently it was a thing for awhile? I dunno. This place was built in the sixties or something. Look, one store’s open. Let’s go get some eyeglasses.”
Butch snorted. “Do they at least have a food court?”
“I think there’s a burger place that’s still here.”
“Man, I can’t believe this place is carpeted. A carpeted mall.”
/uninteresting set-up ends here
Buttercup stopped midway up the broken escalator and looked over the rail. She was arrested by the memory of floating here next to her sisters and the Professor, staring down at the pennies in the fountain that would catch the sunlight. The water splashes would create an endless ripple cycle that caused the coins to wink at her. Now all that met her eye was broken blue tile.
Butch reached the step behind her and looked over the edge, too. “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” she said, feeling a little hollow. “Just remembering stuff.”
“Oh.”
They both stared over the edge in silence. The air itself seemed to go still. His hand settled near hers, brushing against her wrist, and he pulled it back. Neither of them commented on it.
“Feels like this would be the perfect time for some zombies to show up,” he said.
“Ha. It’s a good setting for zombie ground zero.”
“Or ghosts. They should shoot a horror movie here. They wouldn’t even have to dress the place up.”
“We should come back as ghosts and haunt this place.”
He shot her a look out the corner of his eye. "Bitch, who we gonna haunt? This place is dead. There's no one here."
She turned around to face him, bracing both arms against either rail, and hitched her shoulders up in a shrug. "We can haunt each other."
Butch huffed a laugh, his grin softening to a smile. "Stupid. But okay."
He stared at her mouth, level with his eyes. That stillness overtook them again. His hand edged back towards hers, hesitating.
“Maybe we’re ghosts already,” he said, his voice going comically grave. “Maybe it’s that kind of movie, and we’ve been dead the whole time.”
She widened her eyes in mock surprise. “Oh, shit. Plot twist.”
He snorted again, lifting his gaze to meet her eyes for a quick glance before his attention was again drawn to her lips. She couldn't help it; she wet them, a quick dart of her tongue past her teeth. It was so still here.
He placed his foot onto her step, and she backed up—not a lot, just enough to give him more room. His hand drifted over hers, gripping it gently as he pressed himself up towards her. There was heat between them that seemed to intensify as he closed that gap. So much for his ghost theory.
That hollowness she had felt as she stared over the rail dissipated as he drew closer, filled by the deafening drumming of her heart. Her hands clenched underneath his, and she closed her eyes.
His mouth didn't hit hers quite evenly; his lips landed north but he course-corrected in the next instant, fitting the swell of his lips to hers. For a second neither of them moved. It was like they were frozen to the spot, like this escalator that wasn't moving, like this empty, still mall. Like they were part of the scenery. Two ghosts.
She moved first, parting her lips to draw his closer, in between hers. When her tongue swept out again, he stifled a gasp.
And here we are, she thought, as his arms swept around her back, as her own wrapped around his shoulders and they pulled each other closer. They kissed in that empty, hollow place. Haunting each other.
no subject
I am a gross, sobbing mess. My babies. My precious green babies. Thank you racketballz, thank you SBJ, thank you brain for allowing me to process these beautiful words. I'm a little sad there won't be many more kiss scenes in TEF, but I'm so happy about this bit~
In all seriousness tho, please take care of yourself <3 I know it can fall to the wayside when inspiration strikes, but you come first!
no subject
no subject
K-I-S-S-I-N-G
doesn't have the same ring BUT OH MY YES. YES. YES. YES.
BUTCH YOU FRIGG'N SLY DOG MAKING THE FIRST MOVE-
no subject
P
no subject
"Buttercup stopped midway up the broken escalator and looked over the rail."
READ CLOSER P
no subject
(this ficlet nearly made me throw my phone across my room so i had to process it SOMEhow)