#(it's giving hershey vibes!!)

[iputhepinprincess]

@pokeycub

little teacup bird

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 7: Tell Me That I Won't Feel A Thing]

A/N: Hello besties! Thank you for voting in the poll for Chapter 7. Below are your predictions...let's see how you did! 🥰

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon™️, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes, Jace is back yay!!!

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Give Me Novacaine” by Green Day.

Word count: 9.6k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

Billboards ask you as the Tahoe flies across the flat emerald sea of Iowa: Have you heard the good news? Have you been saved? Where will you spend eternity? Are you struggling with same-sex attraction? Do you regret your abortion? Do you fear the Lord? Do you want to end up in Hell?

Aegon snickers, gnawing on a Slim Jim. The sun glare turns his wild hair to gold, etches crinkles into the ruddy skin around his eyes, murky like deep water, oceans you recognize from other corners of the world. “I thought I was already there.”

Jace’s Honda Rebel 300 is left on the shoulder of the highway with its fuel tank uncapped, drained to feed the Tahoe, prehistoric combustion, bottomless mechanical hunger. Rhaena takes over driving so Baela can sit with Jace, touch him, inhale him, convince herself he’s real. Aegon climbs into the passenger’s seat and skips songs on the CD player until he finds the one he wants: In Da Club by 50 Cent. The miles roll by so soft and so infinite that you can’t imagine ever feeling trapped again, warm July air unfurling down the darkest corridors of your lungs, hawks on lifeless power lines and fields dappled with white-tailed deer. And you think: Everything will be better now.

You cross the Missouri River and into Nebraska at Plattsmouth, which—according to a plaque mounted on the outskirts of town—the Lewis and Clark Expedition passed through over two centuries ago. Rhaena follows Aegon’s directions to cut between Lincoln and Omaha, avoiding the roiling wastelands of the cities and keeping well north of Cooper Nuclear Station, where in the absence of a successful manual or computerized shutdown before the power grid collapsed, rods of uranium are melting down and irradiating the surrounding area, anemia, cancer, heart disease, radiation sickness, an affliction that eats you alive.

Rhaena takes Nebraska State Route 66 north and then Route 92 due west, lush fields of corn and soybeans and sorghum planted before the dead began to walk, bones of devoured livestock. You stop for the night in a town called Broken Bow, the sky turning the colors of fire and rust and blood, the Tahoe exsanguinated like a man with a slit throat. Every vehicle you pass already has its fuel cap unscrewed; the farther west you go—the scarcer the resources, the longer it’s been since the world began to end—the less the earth will yield to you: less guns, less gasoline, less food, less human settlements scattered across what was once called the frontier. You commandeer a two-story house: white wood, wraparound porch, a long gravel driveway that winds like a snake. There is a small cornfield and a barn, both of which you sweep for zombies before making yourselves at home. You try not to think about what happened to the family that used to live here.

Helaena lights candles, Luke and Rhaena distribute bowls and silverware, Aemond and Rio gather kindling for the woodstove, Daeron keeps watch on the porch, Aegon picks all the Twizzlers out of a mixed bag of Hershey’s candy for Jace. There is a 12-pack of Ramen noodles in the pantry, gallons of water in the cellar, and a pot large enough to cook it all in one batch. Cregan takes Ice and disappears into the cornfield for half an hour at dusk—something none of the rest of you would ever consider—and reappears with an opossum that he’s nearly decapitated with his axe. He butchers it and you brown cubes of meat in a sauté pan placed directly on the glowing embers. The others are horrified and won’t eat a single bite until you do. It’s the first real food you’ve had since you left Saratoga Springs, and you feel satiated in a way you had forgotten existed.

In honor of Jace’s resurrection, some revelry is in order. There are bottles of Grey Goose vodka in a kitchen cabinet, and Aemond allows a two drink maximum for anyone eligible to participate: Baela is too pregnant, Daeron is too young, Aemond himself is too vigilant, too self-sacrificial, too indoctrinated into the religion of his own martyrdom.

“Daddy loved his screwdrivers,” Cregan says. “I remember being five or six and taking a big gulp of one thinking it was Sunny D or Tang or something. Lord almighty, was that a shock!” He guffaws, then inspects the pantry, scratching at the dark stubble on his cheeks. “We ain’t got nothing like orange juice though.”

“Mama made hers with Hawaiian Punch.” You point: there are several jugs of it on the floor between boxes of Pop-Tarts and Welch’s Fruit Snacks and Cheddar Whales, red like crushed blackberries or fresh blood.

Cregan grins at you over his brawny shoulder. “That’ll work, Miss Chips.”

Luke and Rhaena have first watch, Rio and Aegon will take the second. You are blessedly unburdened tonight. This house is big enough for you to get your own room; you climb the staircase with Grey Goose vodka burning in your throat, your head warm and dizzy, a sensation like freefalling as you lie down on the bed.

I left them, you think, the walls spinning around you, echoes of Mama’s voice through the phone as Rio stood there nodding, encouraging you to hang up. I left them and I never looked back. Can someone commit such an act of ancestral betrayal without incurring a curse?

You are still considering this when you feel Aemond’s weight on the mattress and fold into him, the world going dark and hushed and harmless.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I think it’s safe,” you tell Aemond between sighs, his lips on your throat, his hand between your thighs. Late-morning sunlight slants in through the bedroom windows; goldfinches and blue jays flap by chirping blithely. The dead pillage the misfortunate beasts of the earth, but creatures of the air and water are spared. You can hear geese honking from a distance, and the breeze through the cornfield, and calm indistinct voices beneath the floorboards. You can smell pancakes turning from white to gold in a pan sizzling with Crisco. Cregan must be cooking breakfast in the woodstove.

“How sure are you?” Aemond murmurs, his breath warm on your neck, those small teeth he’s always hiding nipping playfully, and if he leaves marks like stains of ballpoint ink you don’t care. He’s whisked every scrap of your clothing away. Beneath him you are bare and helpless and needing more.

“Like…eighty percent sure.”

“I’ll pull out.”

“Like Jace did?”

He laughs and kisses your mouth, not just ravenous but wild like a storm, and all the rest of the world goes quiet. Your ankles are linked around him, his hips rocking with yours. He is wearing only his boxers, black plaid from a looted Walmart, apocalypse chic. “Hopefully better than that.”

“Just try your best. I trust you. I’m willing to risk it.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s worth it to me.” I could be dead in nine months, he could be dead in nine months. I’m not wasting the time we have left.

“It’s your decision. You would be most affected by the consequences.” He draws away and glances down. “I want to look at you.”

“Ohhh.” You stall. “I’ve been trimming with scissors by candlelight. It’s a hack job.”

“I won’t mind.” He grins. “You don’t mind my hack job of a face.”

“I love your face,” you say as you skim your fingerprints down the length of his scar. And then, when he raises an eyebrow roguishly: “I didn’t break any rules. I didn’t say I love you, just your face. I’m totally using you for your face. Your personality is terrible.”

He snickers, kisses you goodbye, retreats to your hips and pushes your thighs apart as you cover your face and whimper, nervous, exhilarated. And then his lips are on you and the trepidation melts away, puddles pooling and then evaporating, and you have a vision of being home again, shivering and dripping in front of the crackling flames of the woodstove after playing outside in the snow and waiting for the fire to take the cold away. Now the fire is growing over you like ivy, tendrils snaking through veins and leaves opening in your lungs, bones vanishing, muscles turning pliant and weightless. You can feel Aemond’s fingers pushing into you, a fleeting second of tension and discomfort, and then a fullness that is delectable, irresistible, maddening.

“Come back,” you plead, and when he does you clasp his face with both hands, kissing him deeply as his fingers remain inside you, thrusting and bathed in your wetness. You’re finally ready for him, you have to be, you need him so badly: like you’re dying of thirst, like you’re running out of air. “Now, Aemond, please. I want all of you.”

And he wants it too. His boxers are gone and he’s positioning himself between your legs, his tongue in your mouth, one hand cradling your jaw as the other guides his cock to where you are slick and aching and aware of an emptiness that has never felt so dire.

He’s so big…

But you are determined to take all of him. You don’t care if there’s pain, if there’s fear. You want to feel what it’s like to be with him before it’s too late.

Aemond presses himself against you, rolls his hips cautiously…and nothing happens. He is a bit more forceful. There is immense pressure, then the beginning of a stretching that is sharp, searing, dreadful, unfamiliar in a way that is completely disorienting. You gasp before you can stop yourself; a wince ripples across your face too quickly to camouflage. Aemond shakes his head and climbs off you, settling beside you on the bed.

“Fuck,” you exhale in frustration, slapping a palm down on the mattress. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand why…why I’m like this…”

“Shh,” Aemond soothes, kissing you. “It’s okay, it’s fine. I’ll help you finish and then we can try again later.”

“Why isn’t this easier?”

“You’re just nervous,” he says gently, smoothing your hair back from your face, like it’s no big deal, like he’s pointing out a bird or a rabbit or the shape of a cloud.

“I don’t feel nervous.”

“It’s not always conscious, sometimes the body reacts without the mind even being aware of it. You tense up and things become…more challenging. But fortunately for us, the treatment is very enjoyable. We just keep messing around and working up to it until one day you’re so aroused and so relaxed that I can glide in without any discomfort whatsoever, and then your body adjusts to this glorious new experience and you aren’t so nervous anymore.”

“Can’t you just…you know…sorry, this isn’t very romantic, but like…shove it in?”

“I could, sure,” Aemond says. “If I was a horrible person. And then you’d learn to associate sex with pain, which would just exacerbate the situation.”

“The problem, you mean.”

He smiles patiently. “You aren’t a problem. We’ll figure it out, we have time.”

Do we? You stare morosely up at the ceiling, shadows of clouds, shades of wings. “I should have hooked up with that Marine at Corpus Christi. Then I’d have practice. I was so afraid of giving a man the power to hurt me or get me pregnant or otherwise ruin my life, but I didn’t know I’d meet you one day. And now I just want everything to be easy for us, and it isn’t.”

“Hey.” Aemond turns your face towards his. “For me, you are…” He struggles to decide on the words, his eye drifting to the window, sunlight turning the blue of his iris to a shallow, glass-clear river. “You’re like an island, and everything else is a sea of poison, and violence, and catastrophically fucked up situations, and when we’re alone together it all goes away for a little while. The world gets quiet. It’s never been like that for me before. I don’t mind if it takes time for us to figure this out. I just want to be with you.”

“What happens when we get to Nevada, and you’re supposed to turn south for the Bay Area while I go north to Oregon?”

Aemond shrugs, but his expression is contemplative. “I’ve been thinking about that. Maybe we’ll all stay together and go to one place, then the other. If Odessa is safe, I can bring my parents, Criston, and Grandfather there. If it isn’t, we can bring Rio’s family south and live in California in that beach house on the cliff.”

“I never thought I’d set foot in a mansion.”

“I never thought I’d eat opossum.”

You laugh and curl up against him, resting your head and a palm on his chest. “How was it?”

“Not too bad, actually. Kind of like dark meat chicken. A little gamey, but I like lamb and venison, so that’s fine with me.”

“Just wait until you try bear.”

“Bear?!”

There is a knock at the bedroom door. Luke’s bashful voice is muted through the wood. “Aemond?”

“Yeah?” Aemond replies impatiently.

This was not an invitation, but Luke doesn’t seem to know that. He opens the door, and as he does Aemond throws the blanket over you so you’re covered, leaving himself completely exposed.

Luke begins: “I’m really sorry, I didn’t want to bother you, but…” His eyes go wide. “Oh, you’re like, all the way naked.” He turns and stares at the wall to be polite. “If it’s a bad time, I could come back in five minutes. Do you need more than five minutes? Wait, that was rude, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sure you can last way longer than five minutes…um…”

Aemond sighs. “What’s wrong, Luke?”

“Jace is sick.”

“Sick?” Aemond sits up straighter, his eye narrowing. “Sick how?”

“He’s been puking since he woke up.”

You and Aemond exchange a startled glance as you clutch the edges of a blanket patterned with wild horses. Illness, virus, plague, curse.

“He hasn’t been bitten or anything,” Luke says quickly. “So it can’t be…you know…that. And he and Baela don’t seem that worried. But you should probably take a look at him.”

Aemond nods, less alarmed now. “I agree. Can I get those five minutes first?”

Luke smiles. “Yeah. See you downstairs.” He leaves and shuts the door behind him.

You look to Aemond. “Why—?”

He yanks the blanket away and drags you towards him. “I said I was going to help you finish,” he says, grinning, a hand slipping between your thighs.

You bite at his lips when he kisses you and tease: “I don’t need your help.”

“No, I’m sure you don’t. But it’s better when I’m here.”

And he’s right; it is.

~~~~~~~~~~

Daeron is out on the front porch sharpening sticks into arrows and using goose feathers for fletching, attaching them to the wood with a tube of Gorilla Glue that Helaena found for him. Helaena herself is presently floating through the house—soundlessly, ethereally, traceless like a ghost—and partaking in what you all call “apocalypse shopping,” pilfering the clothes and accessories of the former occupants. She seems to know everyone’s sizes without needing to ask. Aegon, Rio, and Cregan are sitting in the living room and eating pancakes off paper plates, carelessly spilling Mrs. Butterworth’s syrup on hideous 1970s couches ornamented with scenes of pheasants and autumn leaves. Down on the Turkish-style area rug, Ice is merrily chomping her way through a stack of burnt pancakes.

“So Cregan,” Rio says, his bare feet propped on the coffee table. “What did you do before the whole zombie situation?”

“I was a lumberjack.”

“No way!”

“Yes sir. I cut down trees for the power company.”

“What a coincidence,” Rio says around a mouthful of pancakes. “I was an electrician!”

“Well how about that? We oughta go into business together once the world straightens itself out. Where’d you work?”

“All over. Wherever the Navy sent us.”

Cregan sets his fork down on his plate. “You were enlisted?”

“Yeah, me and Chips both. That’s how we met.”

Cregan, much to Rio’s surprise, seizes his hand and shakes it soberly. “Thank you very kindly for your service.”

“No problem,” Rio replies, then turns to Aegon. “No gratitude from you, huh?”

“I showed my gratitude when I let you have the last pancake, you ogre…”

In the only bedroom on the first floor, down a hallway and towards the back of the house, Jace looks worse than you expected. He is heaving into a reusable plastic popcorn bucket, gluey ropes of saliva dangling from his lips; his skin is pale and bloodless, his dark curls damp with sweat. Baela is perched beside him on the bed and holding a wet washcloth to the back of his neck. Rhaena and Luke are loitering anxiously in the doorway, watching Aemond to determine if they should panic.

Jace casts you a bitter glance. “You poisoned me with your poor people food.”

“There’s nothing wrong with eating opossum,” you say, somewhat defensively.

Aemond feels his forehead. “That wouldn’t give you a fever. And everyone else is fine.”

“Maybe I’m extra sensitive. My digestive system has higher standards. I’m built different.” Jace resumes retching into the bucket.

Baela tells Aemond: “He can’t keep anything down. There’s nothing left in him, but he’s still so sick…it has to be a stomach flu, right?”

“Who would he have caught it from?” Luke asks, and Baela doesn’t have an answer.

“Stand up,” Aemond orders Jace when his wave of nausea abates. “Strip down.”

“Aemond, he wasn’t bitten,” Baela says. “I saw his whole body last night. He doesn’t have any scratches or bruises or anything.”

“Fine. But I want to see for myself.”

Jace stumbles out of the bed, pushing away Baela’s hands as she tries to stop him. “Okay, Nick Fury. If you wish to gaze upon the goods, I won’t deny you. I’m not shy.” Aemond rolls his eye. You turn around to give Jace privacy. “What’s the matter, Chips? The only dick you’re interested in belongs to Mike Wazowski over there?”

“Jace,” Baela says, but she’s chuckling. Amused, you stare at a picture on the wall—a haloed Jesus guiding a flock of lambs—as Jace sheds his clothing and follows Aemond’s instructions: lift your arm, turn around, show me the bottoms of your feet.

“No bites,” Aemond confirms, deep in thought. “But the symptoms…”

“It’s not that, Aemond, I’m telling you,” Jace insists, rasping breaths between each clause. “Listen, I got sick when I was alone, before I found you guys again. My stomach, my head. Maybe it’s the same thing now. It didn’t last long, and I thought I was over it, but I guess not.”

“People don’t get better and then worse again after they’ve been bitten,” Rhaena observes softly. “They just get worse.”

Jace lies back down on the bed, his face crumbling with pain. Baela uses the wet washcloth to cool his cheeks and neck. “My head hurts so fucking bad…”

“Because you’re dehydrated,” Aemond says.

“Helaena brought pills, but every time I try to take one I throw it up before it can start working.” There is a gurgling sound in his guts, and then a horrified expression. “Baela, I gotta get outside again.” She and Luke immediately swoop in, grab one arm each, and usher him out of the bedroom, through the back door of the farmhouse, and into the cornfield to allow him some semblance of dignity.

Rhaena gives you and Aemond an awkward smirk. “Helaena found Jace a 24-pack of Angel Soft toilet paper in the basement. So there’s some good news.”

“He needs electrolytes,” Aemond says. “We can’t let him get so dehydrated that his kidneys shut down. IV fluids aren’t an option. Pedialyte would be the next best thing, Gatorade or Powerade if that’s all we can find.”

“We passed a pharmacy on our way here,” Rhaena recalls. “It’s only a mile back, I think.”

Aemond nods. “Then that’s where I’m going,” he says, and walks out of the room.

You say as you follow him: “I want to go with you.”

“No.” Aemond points to Rio, who is now playing Uno with Aegon on the coffee table in the living room. “You and I are going to a pharmacy to get Pedialyte for Jace so he doesn’t die.”

“Cool,” Rio says, standing and fetching his Remington shotgun from where he propped it against the wall. “What’s wrong with him?”

“We don’t know. Maybe food poisoning.”

Aegon says, a hand pressed to his heart: “Personally, I loved the opossum.”

You stare defiantly up at Aemond. “If Rio is going, I have to go too.”

“Aww, so you can protect me?” Rio teases fondly, patting your back with one monstrous palm, an unintentional battering.

“Yeah. Exactly.”

Rio looks at Aemond. Aemond looks at you, touching his chin agitatedly. “You are stressing me out.”

“I’m the best shot. I want to be there in case anything happens.”

“Fine, okay, whatever you want. Just stay near Rio.”

“That’s the idea.”

“A pharmacy?” Aegon asks excitedly. “Can I go?”

“No,” Aemond snaps, and continues out onto the porch. In the gravel driveway, Cregan and Daeron are kneeling by the Tahoe and inspecting the front tire on the driver’s side. “What’s wrong now?” Aemond asks, exasperated.

“Got a flat,” Cregan says. “The little fella here noticed it.”

Daeron is mortified. “Please don’t call me that.”

Aemond peers around mistrustfully, out at the road, into the cornfield. “Someone sabotaged us?”

Cregan shakes his head and taps the tire. “Naw, we just ran over a nail yesterday. You can see it right here. A big one too, a masonry nail, I suspect.”

“Can you fix it?” Rio asks.

“I think so. I saw a jack and a lug wrench hanging up on the wall in the barn, now I just need a new tire, a real one. A spare wouldn’t do us much good, not with all the weight we’re carrying. It’d pop in twenty miles.” Cregan gestures to the main road, but westward, the opposite direction from the pharmacy. “Don’t remember seeing a tire place on our way in. Figured I’d try the other direction. I’ll walk ‘til I find a shop or a truck with the right kind of tires to steal from, whichever comes first. Can’t change a tire on gravel, though. I’ll have to drive the Tahoe out to the road and fix it there. I’m gonna need Rhaena’s keys.”

There is an uneasy lull as Aemond studies him. You, Rio, Daeron, and Aegon—who is lingering on the front porch, not yet ready to admit defeat—glance between them apprehensively. Ice is rolling around in the gravel, coating her grey fur with dust. “How do I know you won’t take off without us?”

Cregan’s face goes dark. His brow, heavy and furrowed, settles low over his eyes. “Look buddy, I’ve done a lot of things for you and your people that I didn’t have to. And now I’m fixing the Tahoe so it can take you west, someplace you decided we’re going. If you don’t trust me, do it yourself. Kill your own opossum. Change your own flat tire. But you can’t, can you? Just like I can’t shoot a zombie straight through the eye or tell you how to cure that sick boy in there. We’ve all got jobs here. Let me do mine.”

Aemond glowers at Cregan, knowing he’s right. Daeron averts his eyes; Rio, grinning, eats a handful of Cheddar Whales from a pocket of his cargo shorts. You lay a palm on Aemond’s forearm. “Aemond…he’s trying to help.”

“Sure,” Aemond replies crossly.

“You want collateral?” Cregan says. “Take my dog.” He whistles, and Ice scampers to his side. He points to you. “Go on, princess.” Ice obediently trots over to stand with you, shaggy ash-colored fur, bestial amber eyes like a rattlesnake’s. “She’ll look after you on your way to the pharmacy and back. And if the Tahoe and I have mysteriously vanished upon your return, you can eat her for dinner.”

“You don’t want a warning if you’re about to run into zombies?” Rio asks.

Cregan chuckles as he picks up his axe off the gravel. “Don’t you worry about me. We haven’t heard a peep since we got into town, and I’m just going a little ways up the road. Any less than ten of those abominations, and I can take care of myself.” He gives you and Rio a parting salute and strides into the farmhouse to collect the Tahoe keys from Rhaena.

Aemond turns to Daeron. “Stay here, keep watch. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

Daeron nods, glancing to where his compound bow rests on the front porch. “Got it.”

“Aegon will help you.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Aegon says. “I want to go to the pharmacy too.”

Aemond is losing what remains of his patience. “No.”

“Please?”

“No!”

“Then can you at least bring me something back?”

Rio is confounded. “What do you need?”

“You know…” Aegon gestures vaguely. “Percocet, Vicodin, Oxy, maybe some of that cough syrup with the codeine in it—”

“Grow the fuck up,” Aemond flares, and Aegon falls silent. “You’re thirty years old. Take some goddamn responsibility for something, for anything. I have to go to the pharmacy, Cregan has to fix the Tahoe, someone has to stay here with Daeron to help protect Jace and Baela, and Luke and Rhaena, and Helaena too. Just shut up and do the right thing. You have to start acting like an adult. Who do you think is in charge if I get killed? I’ve never for a single day of my life had the luxury of making selfish choices, and now I feel like I’m not even allowed to die. Leaving everyone else with you would be like leaving them with nobody.”

Aegon gazes up at him, not offended but childishly, mortally wounded. His oceanic eyes are huge and glistening. “But you’re not going to die before me.”

“That’s not the point,” Aemond pitches back, cutting, caustic. Then he starts down the long gravel driveway towards the road. You give Aegon a small, apologetic half-smile and then follow after his younger brother, Ice loping alongside you.

Rio thumps Aegon encouragingly on one shoulder. “See you soon, Honey Bun.” And Aegon watches the three of you disappear, standing in the dazzling midday light with his arms folded over his chest and his hair in hie face, kicking at the gravel with the Sperry Bahama sneakers he once wore on yachts and golf courses.

“Please try to be nice to him,” you tell Aemond when you’re far enough away to be out of earshot. Rio is humming a song you don’t immediately recognize—probably Enrique Iglesias—and acting like he’s not listening. “You don’t know how much longer any of us have. And if that was the last thing you ever said to him, you’d feel awful about it.”

“You have no idea what it was like being his brother. Since I was born all I’ve done is try to plug the holes he blasts into ships. But there’s always water on the floor, I’m never done bailing it out. He needs to learn how to do things for himself.”

“Yes, he does. But he loves you, and he wants you to be happy. He would never intentionally take anything from you. He’ll grow into his purpose, whatever that is.”

“He needs to do it faster,” Aemond says harshly, and you walk the rest of the way without speaking, listening for snarling or lurching footsteps, hearing nothing but birdsong and wind whispering through leaves.

The pharmacy—a diminutive family-owned business, not a chain—has been ravaged. The glass of the large bay window has been broken out and the shelves looted, empty containers and wrappers littering the floor, crystalline shards threatening to gash, stab, infect.

“Stay out here with the dog,” Aemond tells you. Ice is panting calmly, her ears relaxed, her strange yellowish eyes taking in the scenery without any concern. “If she gets her paws sliced up, Cregan will have yet another accusation to levy against me.”

“You’re going to have to get used to him.”

“Not much of an adjustment for you, it seems,” Aemond says, then steps through the shattered window, glass crunching beneath his shoes. Rio gives you a wink and goes after him. They rummage through the remaining merchandise, strewn about randomly and interspersed among trash. Aemond peeks behind the counter where pharmacists once filled prescriptions and climbs over it, searching for any bottles or boxes that were left behind.

“Sorry guys, no condoms,” Rio announces, then laughs at his own joke.

“Be careful,” you urge from outside. “Look underneath, check the bottom racks. Rio? Rio, down low, check them!”

“Relax, ain’t nothing going on in here. It’s silent as the grave.” He laughs again. “Get it? As the grave.”

“Aemond?”

“I’m fine,” he tells you as he squints to read medicine bottles.

“Okay, okay,” Rio says, squatting to examine the shelves closest to the cluttered floor. “I’m checking all the racks. There’s nothing scary under the racks. Happy now?”

“Very. Helaena said something that freaked me out.”

“She can be a bit of an enigma,” Aemond admits. He is taking a tiny box from a drawer to keep.

“Oh, we got Pedialyte!” Rio says, yanking a jug of pink fluid from a pile of debris. “You think Jace likes strawberry?”

Aemond hurries over to help him hunt for more. “Yeah. It’s like a Twizzler, right?”

Ice noses your hand and whimpers softly. You look down at her. “What?”

She whirls and canters around the side of the pharmacy, then returns to make sure you’re keeping up. You go after her, slow and wary, a hand on one of your Beretta M9s. There’s nothing of note to be found in the narrow, shadowy alleyway other than an overflowing dumpster and two skeletons stripped of every shred of fabric and flesh; even the bones were licked clean.

You turn to Ice. “Did I need to see this?” She whines and shifts her weight from foot to foot, ears perked up. Something else? You look down the alleyway. Far behind the pharmacy and the shops that surround it is a church on a jade green slope, old-fashioned, white wood and a belltower. There is a cemetery beside it, and amidst the small grey blurs of headstones are… “Oh,” you breathe. “So that’s where the rest of the town is.”

The graveyard is full of limp, swaying figures that can only be zombies. You are far away and draped in shadows; you retreat back to the pharmacy without any indication that you’ve been spotted, Ice trailing close behind. Aemond and Rio are climbing out of the window just as you arrive. They are each carrying three jugs of Pedialyte in various flavors.

“Where the hell’d you go?” Aemond says; but he sounds more relieved than irritated.

“There’s a church about an eight of a mile away. And there are a lot of zombies in the cemetery.”

Rio sets his Pedialyte down on the sidewalk and reaches for the Remington 12 gauge hanging over his shoulder by its leather strap. “Okay, let’s go clear them out.”

“No, I mean a lot. Like a hundred.”

He freezes. “Oh.”

“We should leave town,” you say.

“While Jace is puking and shitting everywhere? You want to be stuck in a car with that?”

Aemond is thinking, toying with the little box you saw him pick up earlier. “We’ll leave as soon as we can.”

“What’s that?” you ask him.

He shows you the label. “Injectable morphine. All the pills were gone, but I found one vial of this, and I have syringes in my medical kit. It doesn’t need to be refrigerated. It should still be useable.”

“For Baela?” For when she delivers the baby?

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. Just in case.” Then he looks at both you and Rio meaningfully. “Don’t tell Aegon I have this.”

“We won’t,” Rio promises. And Ice begins trotting back towards the farmhouse, as if trying to rush you along.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Tahoe is at the mouth of the long gravel driveway, still up on a hand-cranked scissor jack. The tire appears to be new, but the lug nuts haven’t been tightened, and the wrench is nowhere to be found.

“Cregan?” Rio says uncertainly, peeking through the cornstalks as they bend in the wind. “Hey, Cregan? Aemond’s sorry he was a bitch to you earlier. He wants you to return ASAP and do manual labor for him.” Aemond grimaces; Rio beams in reply. But Cregan does not appear.

You can hear them long before you reach the farmhouse, muffled chaotic chattering, raised voices and rushing footsteps. As you ascend the steps of the front porch, Rhaena bursts through the door.

“Thank God you’re back,” she says; there is blood on her hands. “It’s Jace, he…he…come look at him. Aemond, you have to do something. He’s sick, he’s really sick. He’s bleeding.”

“From where?” Aemond asks, urgent, bewildered.

“From everywhere,” Rhaena replies, and beckons for him to follow.

The bedsheets Jace is swathed in are blooming with crimson, flowers of doomed gore. Blood drips from his nostrils and his eyes; when he retches into the popcorn bucket, clots of pink and red spew out. Everyone is gathered around him and speaking at the same time, except Helaena. She is crouched on the floor of the hallway just outside his room, her arms wrapped around her bent knees and her face stricken. Ice curls up beside her.

Above the other voices, Baela screams at Aemond, a desperate horrified moan: “What’s wrong with him?!”

Aemond pushes by the others and feels Jace’s forehead, then grabs his wrist to measure his pulse. As Aemond’s fingers tighten, Jace’s skin rips beneath them, the top layer sliding off and leaving only glistening, raw pink. Jace howls, tears of blood streaming down his cheeks. “I don’t know,” Aemond says, his voice unsteady.

“What the fuck do you mean you don’t know?!” Baela shouts back. “You’re a doctor! Fix him!”

“It hurts, Aemond,” Jace gasps, fresh blood on his teeth. When Baela touches his hair, locks of it fall out into her hand.

“He’s turning, right?” Rio says to you. “This is what happened to Snowflake, the blood and the skin and everything—?”

“He wasn’t bitten!” Luke insists, positioned in front of Jace’s bed as if he’s guarding it.

“I don’t care if we can’t find a bite mark, he’s decomposing for Christ’s sake, what the fuck else could it be?!”

Daeron returns with more blankets and towels. Aegon grabs a strawberry Pedialyte out of Rio’s grasp and tries to help Jace drink it. Cregan is muttering: “I ain’t never seen anything like this…”

Decomposing, you think dizzily. He wasn’t bitten, but he’s falling apart…what else does that to a person?

Baela cleans blood from his lips, a towel turning from snow to rubies. “Jace, baby, it’s going to be okay, we’re going to help you…”

“Could it be rat poison or something?” Cregan is saying. “Rabies? Mad cow disease? Ebola?”

“How the fuck do you think he got Ebola?!” Aemond exclaims. “You think he took a jet to sub-Saharan Africa when he was on his own? Use your brain.”

“I’m just trying to come up with ideas here, doc, and I don’t see you with any bright ones!”

He’s decomposing. He’s decomposing.

And then you remember. You kneel down beside the bed so you can look into his face, so you can make him pay attention. “Jace, listen to me.”

“I’m listening,” he replies faintly. He coughs, wet and gurgling. Fresh blood paints his lips. There are blisters beginning to form up and down his arms, you see now, the skin bubbling and separating.

“Jace, do you remember Three Mile Island?”

“What the fuck.” He is baffled, dismissive. “Three Mile what? Huh? What are you talking about…?”

“You’re upsetting him,” Baela says fiercely, tears glittering in her eyes.

But you are determined. “Outside of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, after we left Fort Indiantown Gap. There were these huge concrete cooling towers. We saw them from the Wawa parking lot.” But he wasn’t there when we talked about radiation. He was still inside searching for guns. “Remember, Jace? Do you remember?”

Now Aemond and Rio are looking at you, petrified, realizing what you must be thinking. No one else understands yet. After a long pause, Jace nods feebly. “Yeah. I remember the towers.”

“Good,” you say, smiling to encourage him. “Okay, this is important. After we lost you at the river, before you found us again, did you see anywhere that looked like Three Mile Island?”

“Yeah,” Jace murmurs as he stares back at you with glazed, bloody eyes; and Rio sighs and shakes his head. “I drove right by it on the Honda. The sign said Byron.”

And it’s been over for him since that moment.

“Alright, Jace.” You want to touch him, to embrace him or cup his cheek. You know it will only make his suffering worse. “Thank you. That’s all I wanted to ask.” He begins to gag again, and Baela hurries to place the popcorn bucket so it can catch his liquefying organs. You turn around and walk through the doorway.

“What’s happening?” Aegon asks you, hushed voice, frantic eyes. He has followed you to the living room, along with Aemond, Rio, and Cregan. You nod to Aemond. He knows.

“It’s radiation sickness,” Aemond says, low and bleak.

“What?!” Aegon gapes at him. “I mean, are you sure…?”

“It fits all the symptoms. He was in close proximity to a nuclear power plant, something the rest of us have intentionally avoided. If there was a meltdown, there are miles and miles that are poisoned with radiation. Passing by on a motorcycle could definitely result in a lethal dose.”

“Poor guy,” Rio says. “Not a good way to go.”

“No,” you agree. It isn’t.

“So how do you treat something like that?” Cregan asks Aemond.

“It can’t be treated,” Aemond replies tersely. “Not here, not by me, not by anyone. Not even if the world was normal again.”

“What do you mean it can’t be treated?! Everything can be treated nowadays! Cancer, heart attacks, diabetes, hell, my cousin got testicular cancer and he was fine a month later, he even got to keep one of his balls!”

“Radiation sickness can’t be treated. He’s going to die.”

“But how is that possible when���?!”

“I need you to try to not be stupid for five minutes,” Aemond snaps.

You say quietly: “He’s not stupid, Aemond. He just doesn’t know about this.”

“You are always defending him.”

“Because not going to med school isn’t a character flaw.”

Cregan asks mildly, looking at Aemond: “Could you explain it to me?”

“It’s pennies in a jar, man,” Rio says. “Radiation stacks up and at a certain point it kills you. It destroys your DNA and your body falls apart. You can get it just by going near someplace contaminated, and you might not even feel it happen. And there’s no way to undo the damage. The pennies never leave the jar.”

Cregan raises an eyebrow at Aemond. “Was that so difficult?”

Aemond ignores him. “We have to tell Jace,” he says instead.

Back in the bedroom—a mineral stench in the air, coppery blood and the salt of sweat—Aegon sits on the edge of the bed and takes one of Jace’s swelling, blistering hands carefully in his own.

“Don’t hold my hand, you loser.” Jace mumbles, and Aegon respectfully releases him.

“Jace,” Aegon begins. “We think you have radiation sickness.”

Jace blinks up at him, wincing and disoriented. “Which means…?”

“Which means, um, it’s going to be…not great.”

“Why are you the person explaining this?”

“You’re right, I really shouldn’t be explaining it. Can someone else explain it…?” Aegon glances around hopefully.

“Jace,” Aemond says. “Those cooling towers you drove by were part of a nuclear power plant that melted down when the power grid collapsed. You received a fatal dose of radiation. It’s the only thing that explains what’s happening to you.”

“Fatal…?” Daeron ventures.

Rhaena gasps and reaches for Luke. Baela’s face is a mask of numb shock. Jace stares up at Aemond for a long time before he speaks. “Aemond, fix me.”

Aemond’s words are brittle and fracturing. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Stop fucking around, man, you’re a doctor. You can fix me. I know you can. You’re a genius. You’re a total freak but you’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. Give me the pills, give me the shots. Cut me open if you have to. I won’t scream, I promise. Fix me. I trust you.”

“Jace, I can’t do anything. No one can.”

“I have to meet the baby, Aemond,” Jace whispers, scarlet tears bleeding down his cheeks. “I have to be here for Baela and Luke. Fix me, man. I’ll do anything you tell me to.”

“Jace,” Aemond says, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry. I can’t help you.”

Jace looks to Baela, Luke, Rhaena, and at last back to Aemond. “How long?”

“Not very. A few days, maybe.”

“Days?” he echoes, dazed. “What happens?”

Aemond shakes his head. You don’t want to know.

“Yeah I do. Tell me.”

Aemond can’t respond; clear silent tears snake down the right side of his face. Rio answers for him. “You continue to bleed out of every orifice and the rest of your skin falls off. And eventually you die.”

Jace breaks down in sobs. “I was trying to find you guys.”

Suddenly, Baela turns to you and Rio and Aemond, wrathful, hissing. “This is your fault.”

Aemond pleads: “Baela, please don’t—”

“You made me leave him at the river. I knew he was still alive, but you forced me to leave him. If he’d been with us, this never would have happened. But he was alone, and it was because of you. You did this to him. You stole him from me.”

Rhaena tries to console her. “Baela, no one meant to—”

“I just got him back!” she screams, and then shelters Jace in her arms as he clings to her, the skin of his fingers and palms flaking at the pressure, holding onto her anyway. No one knows what to say; everyone has tears burning in their eyes and embers in their throats. “Get out,” Baela demands. “Leave us alone. This is the last time I’ll ever have with him and it’s your fucking fault. So get out.”

And you leave them to their final moments, failing flesh in a dying world.

~~~~~~~~~~

Only Luke and Rhaena flit in and out of the bedroom, carrying soiled linens and the plastic popcorn bucket to be periodically emptied. The rest of you are engrossed in a grim, thunderstruck deathwatch in the living room. You discuss the inevitable in hushed murmurs. It is cruel to let Jace suffer; it is unspeakably horrible to let Baela witness it. Ice alternates between receiving scratches from Cregan, Helaena, and Aegon, never trying to enter Jace’s room. You can hear Jace and Baela talking in there, his retching and groaning, her sobs.

It is not until dusk that Rhaena summons Aemond. Luke is weeping as he paces back and forth in the bedroom. Baela is still sitting on the bed with Jace, resigned now. She does not apologize, but she doesn’t have any more venom to spit either. The rest of you watch from the hallway, keeping a respectful distance. Ice nudges your hand with her nose, but you ignore her. Jace’s bloody eyes roll to Aemond.

“I’m keeping you here, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” Aemond replies. There’s no point in lying.

“And I don’t need to feel myself melting like this for days. I get the idea.” Jace looks at Aemond for a while. His voice is anemic but calm; there are fresh blisters on his face and neck. “What can you give me?”

Aemond opens his medical kit and shows Jace the vial of morphine. “I found this at the pharmacy today. It would be painless, like going to sleep and never waking up.”

“Why do you have that?”

“I was thinking a small amount might help Baela during labor.”

“Is it the only morphine in your kit?”

“Yes.”

Jace nods. “Save it for Baela.” His gaze drops to the Glock in the holster at Aemond’s waist. “Can I borrow that?”

Rhaena stifles a dismayed yelp. Baela closes her eyes, but does not protest. Aemond says: “I don’t think you want to do this.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Cyclops,” Jace says, smiling. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

“It’s heavy,” Aemond warns. He clicks off the safety and gives the Glock to Jace. “Are you able to use it by yourself?”

“It’s a very simple two-step process. Barrel to skull, finger on the trigger. I think I’ll manage.”

Again, Ice bumps her nose against your knuckles; again, you barely notice. Baela kisses Jace on the mouth, her lips coming away bloody. Rhaena says goodbye to him, then Luke, whispered parting words you don’t try to listen to. Before Aemond exits, Jace grasps his hand.

“Take care of my family, Aemond.”

“I will.”

“Don’t let the zombies eat me afterwards.”

And then it becomes real. Aemond’s composure falters. “Jace…I’m so sorry…”

“Go,” Jace urges him. Then there is a coughing fit, fresh blood and pieces of stomach and lungs. “Right now. Before I lose my nerve.”

Baela is the last one to leave the bedroom; she shuts the door behind her. Almost immediately afterwards is a deafening bang. Baela sinks to the floor and wails, one hand on her belly, the other embracing Rhaena and Luke when they rush to her. Ice is whining and pawing at the floor, her nails screeching on the hardwood. Aemond alone returns to Jace’s bedroom and reappears with his Glock. He places it back in his holster, his scarred face vacant. There’s blood on his fingers, you see. Jace’s blood, the last he’ll ever shed. Aemond hasn’t noticed yet.

You reach for Aemond’s hand; he flinches away. You ask him, pained: “Do you think if you don’t touch me, it won’t hurt you when I die?”

“Please don’t say that,” Aemond responds in a hoarse, splintering whisper.

Ice yowls, and Cregan is abruptly aware of her. “Oh shit, the Tahoe is still up on the jack. I’ll go get it.” He opens the front door. Under the moonlight, there are upwards of a hundred zombies stumbling down the long gravel driveway. Everyone begins screaming. Cregan slams the door shut and shoves one of the couches in front of it. “What now?!”

“We go through the cornfield,” Aemond says as you are all frantically gathering your sparse possessions. “It will be more difficult for them to see us. We kill as many as we can and we make our way to the Tahoe. Cregan, how long will it take you to get it ready to drive?”

“Maybe a minute. But I’ll need someone to spot me while I tighten the lug nuts.”

“Sounds like my kind of job opportunity,” Rio says, pumping his Remington. Helaena gives you a flashlight. Cregan secures the lug wrench under his belt and picks up his axe. Rhaena has her Ruger out and is telling Baela to breathe, to stay focused, to let her and Luke lead the way.

Aemond comes to you and leans in close so the others can’t hear. “How many bullets do you have left?”

“Not enough. Maybe fifty.”

“Do what you can. Stay near Rio.”

“I’ll try.”

Now there are zombies at the front windows, beating their spongy swamp-colored palms against the glass. Baela, Rhaena, and Luke are leaving through the back door with Daeron; you can hear the whizzing of his arrows and the sick soft sound they make when they pierce rotting meat. Under the weight of so many hands, one of the living room windows pops from its frame and clatters against the floor. You open fire, bullets exploding skulls and spraying brains, corpses jolting and then diving to the ground. You shoot until both M9s are empty, then pause to reload, boxes of bullets that Cregan gave you back in Iowa.

“Let them in,” Helaena says.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” Aegon shouts at her. He’s firing his Marlin .22 beside you, quite poorly; Rio and Aemond are in the backyard killing any zombies that find their way towards the cornfield. “We’re not letting them get through the house!”

“Not through,” Helaena says placidly. “In.”

“Oh.” Aegon understands. “Oh! I get it! Trap them inside!” He races to the kitchen and tears the remaining bottles of Grey Goose vodka out of the cabinet, then begins spilling them onto the wood floor. “Helaena, give me a lighter.”

She places one in his outstretched palm and then leaves with Cregan as he escorts her away, leading her by her fragile hand. They vanish together into the cornfield, Ice on their heels.

“Time to go, Chips!” Rio booms; he can’t be far behind Cregan.

“We’re on our way!”

Zombies are pouring through the front of the house; another window has given way. You pull the trigger over and over again as you move with Aegon towards the backyard, his clear river of vodka drawing a path from one end of the house to the other. You hit the grass before he does, then wait for him by the edge of the cornfield. Aemond and Rio are shouting for Aegon to hurry up. He crosses through the threshold, flicks the lighter to life, and throws it into the house. His plan works—the farmhouse is abruptly aflame, cooking zombies like long-spoiled hams—but he neglected to realize that in his haste, he had also accidentally doused his own left leg and Sperry Bahama sneaker. The fire licks up over Aegon’s skin and blazes there radiantly. He shrieks and falls to the ground. Rio yanks his own shirt off and uses it to smother the inferno, then throws Aegon over one shoulder to carry him.

“Go to Cregan!” Rio tells Aemond, shoving him in the direction of the Tahoe. Rio will be slower now, but no one else could still run with Aegon’s added weight. “You and Daeron spot him until I get there!” When Aemond is gone, Rio glances back at you.

“I’m fine,” you say, felling zombies as they round the house. “Get Aegon to the car!” And Rio listens to you like he always does, vanishing with Aegon through the cornfield.

You weave through the leafy stalks, investigating each growl and rustling with the beam of your flashlight. Grotesque, fetid faces plunge through the greenery, and you demolish them. You’re in the rhythm now, wheeling for a target and locking in, squeezing the trigger and watching ghoulish faces disappear. And then you spy a zombie lurching towards you from fifteen feet away, a twenty-something in a red Nebraska Cornhuskers t-shirt making her way down the dirt aisle between two rows of corn; and when you pull the trigger, there is only a dry click in reply. Your other M9 is already empty. You’ve used all the ammo Cregan gave you.

“I’m out of bullets,” you say, but no one hears you; you are alone. Aemond always told you to stay near Rio and you never did. Too late, you realize what an oversight that has been. “Rio? Aemond?!”

There are human voices and gunshots, but reverberating from a distance. Far closer are snarls and groans of the dead. You click off your flashlight, drop to the earth, and crawl until you are as far under a row of corn as you can be, long leaves tickling the back of your neck and damp soil in your nostrils. Clumsy, lumbering footsteps trod by you. From the road, you hear the Tahoe’s engine start with a rumble.

They’re leaving.

You shake your head, here with no one to see you in the dark. Still, the thought persists.

They’re leaving. I left my family and now my family is leaving me.

“Chips, stay where you are!” Rio shouts. “We’re coming back, we’ll find you!”

You wait until they are within ten feet of you, Rio cracking skulls with his Remington—he must be out of bullets too—and Aemond firing his Glock. “I’m here, I’m here!” you cry, and they are lifting you up from the dirt and dragging you towards Tahoe, and Aemond puts his pistol in your hand knowing you can do more good with it. You fire ten rounds before the Glock is empty, and you think with terror: Do any of us have bullets left?

Then you are being helped into the Tahoe, and the second all the doors are shut Rhaena floors the gas pedal, heading west on State Route 92.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I got my drugs after all,” Aegon rasps as Aemond injects him with morphine on the floor of a laundromat on the edge of Merna, Nebraska, far enough to escape the zombies, not so far that the Tahoe risks running out of gas before you reach the next town. His left leg is burned from the knee down, and burned badly: skin, fat, muscle, blood-red scorched ruin. Even through the modest dose of morphine—Aemond is terrified of accidentally killing him—Aegon can still feel what has happened to him. He knows it’s bad. He knows it could be the last mistake he ever makes. “I’m so thirsty…”

“I got you, Honey Bun,” Rio says, and then uses the butt of his Remington to bust open the vending machines and bring him bottles of Powerade. Baela is sobbing in the corner with Luke and Rhaena. Helaena is shining a flashlight on Aegon’s leg so Aemond can see. Daeron and Cregan are keeping watch by the entrance. You don’t even know why. All the bullets and arrows are gone, Aegon can’t walk, the Tahoe’s gas tank is nearly drained. If you are descended upon now, what will you do?

Aegon sobs and clutches for you, links his arms around your waist, rests his head in your lap. You hold him and comb your fingers through his unruly hair over and over again, like a compulsion, like a ritual. You are so afraid to let go of him. You are terrified he’ll disappear.

I wish I knew what to say. I never know what to say.

He’s shaking uncontrollably as Aemond cleans his leg: peeling away dead skin, wiping down the raw flesh with disinfectant. Aegon’s eyes are wide and glassy. There is blood on the white tile floor, pinkish lymph fluid, bits of charred skin. Ice is whimpering, her muzzle propped on her paws and her eyes darting around the room. Aegon manages through the pain, a reedy, gasping whisper: “Tell me about all those places you went when you were in the Navy.”

You can see it like the miles-deep blue of his eyes: the Indian Ocean, the jewel-tone equatorial sky. “On Diego Garcia, they have these birds called red-footed boobies—”

Aegon barks out a weak laugh. “They do not. You’re making that up.”

“No, really, I swear! They’re like seagulls, but they have blue on their face and bright red feet, hence the name. They’re extremely stupid, and one night a few of us were hanging out drinking Guinness and playing pool, and a booby flew in through an open window. We panicked, it panicked, and then it was flying in circles and couldn’t get out. We opened all the doors and windows, and the booby still just flew around banging into the walls. And of course the whole time it was shitting and bleeding and getting feathers everywhere, we knew it was going to take hours to clean up. After thirty minutes of chasing this idiot bird around, Rio snapped, took off his boot, and smacked the booby with it. He was trying to fling it out the window, like hitting a tennis ball with a racket, but he accidentally hit the bird too hard and murdered it. Its beak literally separated from its body and flew across the room. None of us could believe it, we didn’t even know that was possible. Rio felt so bad he started crying. We took the booby—and its beak, of course—out to the beach for a Viking funeral. We made it a little raft of coconut tree leaves, set it on fire with a lighter, and pushed it out into the waves.”

Aegon is cackling. “Bryan Osorio, terrorizer of the homicidal undead and boobies!”

“What else?” Baela says, and you look over at her, startled. The flashlight incandescence turns you all to ghosts, phantoms, half-shadows. At first you don’t know what she means. “What else did they have on Diego Garcia?”

“Oh, tell them about the coconut crabs,” Rio prompts you. He’s settled down beside Aegon and is resting one broad hand on his trembling shoulder.

“Coconut crabs?” Rhaena asks you, wiping tears from her cheeks with her delicate, small-boned fingers.

You are abruptly aware that you have an audience. You can feel yourself shrinking beneath their gazes. “Rio should tell the story. I’m not good at it.”

“Sure you are,” Rio says, smiling kindly beneath dark, wet eyes. “Go on. Tell them.”

So you do.

[sotiredimbored]

mutual appreciation post

what i would get everyone for the holidays(not christmas bcuz holidays)

if this is basic asf i apologize i am currently exploding <3

also if i forgot you i am so soryr i forgive me please i am afraid(maybe im afraid of you and youre too cool)

@sweetest-thing-in-hell ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you an album (soryr i dont know you well but sabrina carpenter)

@mintbecrazy ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a camera like a vintage one

@woahg-i-am-thoroughly-confused ˋ°•*⁀➷ its your bday soon !! sorry mention of bdays anywho i would get you alien stage merch because i think you like that

@apjofan ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a mug that says "it will all be ok"

@emdabitchass ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you pjo merch

@just-another-starry-dreamer ˋ°•*⁀➷ at the comis store in the mall i always go to theres a litlte sign that says i am an unpaid therapist and id get you that

@that-willowtree ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you bsd things

@starkissed-mars ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would give you a fucking hug bc i fele as though you need one(if ur ok with hugs)

@here-am-i-sitting-in-a-tin-can ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a book of robert frosts poetry because yes

@asters-tempo ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you art supplies(praying you dont think this is basic)

@stars-taylorsversion ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would write you marauders things(soryr i dont know you superly yet)

@rins-batcave ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would give you a wallows album

@deadatthealtar ˋ°•*⁀➷ ride the cyclone merch

@circe-butbetter ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would write you fanfiction

@emilem-forevermore ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a hoodie that says "all my friends think im amazing"

@racc00ning ˋ°•*⁀➷i would get you something from epic(idk if theres merch but)

@aidens-ocean-galaxy ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you yellow jackets things and let you rant to me more about them because yes

@calypso10191 ˋ°•*⁀➷ CAL MY FRIEND i would get you airplane tickets to visit anyone you want

@seekmemystar ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a greek painting(the vibes trust trust)

@thestrawberryapologist ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you that ring that expands into an angel

@planetjinko ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you all the tbhk books

@a-t1r3d-b1s3xual ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a laptop bcuz i know you want one

@moku-and-his-madness ˋ°•*⁀➷ getting you merch of tsuchigomori(i spelled it wrong didnt i)

@serialkilluh-1996 ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a red button that screams(trusttrust)

@arandombiped ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you alice oseman merchandise

@demigod-jack-hearth ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you hestia paintings

@blizzardtheartisticfox ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you hermitcraft things

@choucon ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a star pin(badly drawn) that says "your did it"

@xx-neuro-xx ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you tally hall album

@kermit-the-fag-official ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a kermit puppet

@pearl-div3r ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would write you epic shit

@fishcow99 ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you newsies stuff

@hershey-not-the-chocolate-maybe ˋ°•*⁀➷ i woud get you arcane shit

@kunikisss ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you call of duty things because i think you like that

@kawaiibarty ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a record player idk trust

@butch-marauders ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a girl in red album

@sunsets-are-my-universe ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a break(you need one lets be real)

@mun-urufu ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a mug that i made

@raeprise ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you spn things

@k-is-for-potassium ˋ°•*⁀➷i would get you a banana for the funny

@yourlocalbadgerscales ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you taylor swift merch

@stqrgirl3 ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a star mirror

@you-will-never-be-satisfied ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a hamilton advent calender

@whydousernamesevenexist ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would give you one of my old peanuts comic books from like the 1950s n shit

@aesthetic-writer18 ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would give you WRITING MOTIVATION WOO

@klondyke-the-bearˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a stuffed animal

@funz1es ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you oil painting sets becauz i think it would be good for you

@themortalityofundyingstars ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you sunflower seeds

@lifegoalsofafish ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you tcgf things( i hope thats how it works)

@garden-of-runar ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a cotton candy machine(its off vibes)

@gasolinehornet ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you tickets too a movie you want

@stars-on-my-bedroom-ceiling ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would give you a childrens book

@definitionoffuckup ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a tea packet(trust is this a shit gift perhaps)

if youd like to be removed from this lmk !!

[the-fab-fox]

I come bearing a request! If it doesn't make you uncomfortable — ignore this if it does — could you please write platonic headcanons or a oneshot about the Pomfiore trio helping yuu who's on her (or their) period and has cramps & is just feeling gross?

| Request Fill for Anonymous. To find out how to request your own, check out this post here. |

Absolutely, I can, my friend!

I enjoyed writing this so much. I love seeing these three and Yuu getting on so well in Book 6. It makes my heart so happy to see it.

So naturally, I wanted to include that same vibe with this one.

As a note, since I don't really mention it until further in the oneshot, this takes place during the SEC group preparing for the SDC.

I hope you enjoy, sweet anon! And if you feel up to it, in case you don't want to comment directly on the fill itself, feel free to shoot me a dm if you wanna let me know how you like it.

Thanks again for the adorable request!

—

Platonic F!Reader with Vil, Rook, and Epel.

[Fill under cut due to length.]

—

The Ramshackle Prefect watched the dancers closely. She smiled to herself with a soft chuckle. 

The chuckle quickly became a grimace as, yet again, her uterus decided to give her a swift horse kick back to reality. 

This sucks. I'm grateful that Sam had the things I needed but they don't really have anything like Tylenol or Ibuprofen here. 

Sam had given her a little protip though, before she had left his shop. 

“Talk to Professor Crewel about this.”

She did just that. 

Crewel had told her that he would make a potion which would likely act in the same manner as the medicines from her world but it would take two days. He frowned at her and snapped his riding crop in his hand. 

“In the future, you are to inform me at least four days before your cycle starts so you won't have to wait so long for relief from the cramps. Is that understood?”

She snapped to attention. “Yes, sir!”

Crewel smiled empathetically. “Good girl. You may go but before you do, here—”

He opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out what looked like a Hershey bar. He passed it to her and she took it tentatively. After all, Crewel didn't seem like the type to give gifts or rewards to students. 

“It's chocolate. It won't do as much as the potion will but it is something that is already made so we'll take what we can get, won't we, pup?”

The otherworlder nodded and smiled. “Thank you for helping me with… all of this.” Out of nerves, she waved vaguely at the lower half of her body. “You and Sam have been so helpful and nice about it.”

Crewel nodded. “It's nothing. Especially since I know exactly how you feel.”

She tilted her head and frowned. 

What on earth did that mean? What was he—

Oh!

No way! 

Her eyes widened and she blurted out the question that immediately came to mind before she could stop herself. 

“Professor Crewel, did you just subtly slip in the fact that you're a transman?”

Crewel grinned. “Well spotted, Prefect. I swear, you have more intuition and common sense than most of the students at this school combined.”

She blushed at the compliment. She never had been good at accepting them. Most of the time, they made her uncomfortable. 

Even with how uncomfortable she was, the compliments still pleased her. In her mind, Crewel was one of the best teachers at the school. Even with his weird BDSM vibe he had going on with that ridiculous riding crop. 

Maybe she was being a little unfair. She just hated it when Crewel would appear by her and her friend’s desk and snap that thing. 

It wasn't her fault she was easily jump scared. 

She thanked him instead of commenting on the compliment—what would she even say to that?—and had taken her leave. 

Brought out of the memory but yet another sharp squeezing sensation, the Ramshackle Prefect let out a little whimper. 

Damnit. Why did I eat all that chocolate bar in one sitting? I'm sure Crewel wouldn't mind giving me another, if he even has one. And Sam should have them in stock. I should go after practice and grab one. 

Unfortunately, there was no telling how long practice would be. 

“Mademoiselle Trickster. Forgive me, but tu vas bien? Are you feeling alright?”

She blinked up at Rook. There was that sharp, observant gaze but just behind it, she saw genuine concern. 

She smiled. 

Well, she tried anyway before another cramp hit her. This one was more intense than the last as well. She could also feel the beginnings of a migraine and bemoaned her lack of the potion. 

“Ouch,” she groaned. 

“Rook! Why are you over here? You're supposed to be with the others, practicing.”

Rook didn't look chastised in the least. She had always found that pretty impressive. The fact that Vil could just bark his disappointment and Rook would apologize genuinely but that would be that. 

Unfortunately, she was nothing like Rook. Vil was also unfathomably beautiful, famous, snarky, and direct. Those combinations very often did not suit people like her. She was grateful, however, that Vil seemed to be an exception. 

Yeah, he could be harsh, but only when it was necessarily or well deserved. To her, Vil seemed more like a bossy but supportive big sister. She was just intimidated by the rest of him. 

“Oui,” Rook replied. “I simply came over because I could tell that our dear Trickster here is not feeling well.”

Vil turned those lavender eyes on her and she found she could not look away. His eyes narrowed as he looked her over. 

“What's going on?”

The Ramshackle Prefect surprised herself as she suddenly burst into tears. 

Okay, it wasn't as dramatic as all that, but she did end up crying. 

“Prefect?” 

Vil's tone was still firm but had softened significantly. 

She sighed as she looked at him. “I'm sorry… I… well, I started my period and there's no medications here like back home that can help with it,” she said, her voice sounding whiny to her own ears. God, she hated how whiny her period made her. And how utterly disgusting she felt being a foot from Vil Schoenheit. 

She sucked in a breath, and continued. “Crewel is making a potion for me…he's so nice… he doesn't show it but he is. But he said it's going to take 2 days, maybe 3, before the potion will be ready. But the cramps are so bad and now my head is starting to hurt. It's definitely the beginning of a migraine.”

Vil was suddenly all action so fast that she felt a little lightheaded for a second or two. 

“Rook. Go to Sam’s and get anything you can think of that helps with a period. Then go get one of my silk pajama sets, a pair of my softest slippers, and my facial kit. Bring the lavender scented—no!—bring the ginger infused facial products. And a bit of our peppermint tea.”

Rook snapped to attention. “I won't be but a moment,” he assured them both before leaving quite dramatically. But that was normal for the odd third year. 

Vil looked at her before scanning the others practicing their dance moves into the mirror. 

“Epel!”

The periwinkle-haired first year glanced over in question. 

“Ah—yes, sir?”

“Please come here a moment.”

The Prefect watched as Epel did as ordered, coming to stand before them both. He glanced at her, obvious concern in his eyes now that he could see her up close. 

“Hey, what's wrong?”

She sighed and shook her head, no longer feeling emotional enough to blurt it out. She nodded instead at the silent question in Vil's eyes. 

“The Prefect is on her period. Unfortunately, she didn't think to bring this up with Crewel prior to getting it but it's understandable, considering everything she's gone through since her arrival. I'm assuming this is your first period since coming here?”

She grimaced and nodded. Back home, it wasn't often that she skipped periods. The times she did, however, were usually due to stress and the next one she did get was always worse. That was what was happening here, to the letter. 

She looked at Vil with surprise. It was her understanding that Vil had no siblings. He smiled at her surprise. 

“In my line of work, you get to know a great number of people. Many of them get periods. It's also imperative to familiarize oneself with others’ physiology and not just one's own when making potions.”

The Prefect just nodded her head. It made a lot of sense but she felt too exhausted to do anything more. 

Epel looked at her with sympathy. “What can I do to help?”

Vil smiled. “That's precisely why I called you over. Will you please tell the others that something has come up that couldn't be helped so the rest of practice is canceled.” He paused for a moment, considering the group. “Also inform them that I want them to practice their moves for an hour in front of a mirror tonight. Wait… Spudling 1 and 2 should do 2 hours. Then I'd like you and Grim to ask the chefs if they wouldn't mind making a simple chicken and noodle soup for her. You don't have to answer any questions. If they push, have them come talk to me. That should take care of things nicely.” He tilted his head imperiously. “Did you get all of that, baby spudling?”

He'd do well as an owl, she thought out of nowhere and was grateful that she hadn't voiced the thought aloud. 

“Whatda I lookit to ya—erk—I mean, yes, sir. The rest of practice is canceled, but they are to do 1 hour of practice back home. 2 for Ace and Deuce. Then I'm to go to the kitchens with Grim to get Chicken and Noodle soup for the Prefect.”

“Very good. Go on now.”

Epel hurried off. 

Vil smiled sympathetically at her now. She sighed her feelings on the whole matter. 

“Do not worry, my dear. We'll get you sorted. Tomorrow you will be off duty as well. If you would like, I can inform the Headmage that you will need to be out of classes as well due to being sick.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? You'd do that for me? They'll be okay with that?” 

In her experience, people with periods were generally just expected to get on with life despite the pain and feeling like complete garbage. Pick oneself up by the bootstraps, and all that.

Vil snorted. “They trust me. I've earned their respect and with good reason. They'll accept with no other details aside from being too sick to come.”

She was suddenly filled with the desperate urge to hug him. She was that thankful. Luckily, she was able to hold back. 

Tears began to creep at the corners of her eyes again and it was with a softer voice that she thanked him. 

“Think nothing of it, Prefect. While I am empathetic, especially with things that are unavoidable, I'm also thinking of the group and the SDC. With a period there's no way you wouldn't be distracted and understandably so, therefore it would be a waste of time to make you do your job when you feel as you do.” He smiled apologetically once more with a sigh. “Better to have you miss a couple days and come back to us fresh and rested than to make you suffer and possibly lengthen both the period as well as our training. You're also not one of the performers so it's not absolutely necessary for you to be at every practice. Preferable, definitely, but not necessary.”

She beamed at him. “You're a really good person Vil, I don't care what anybody else says.”

Vil raised a brow. “Oh? Well thank you, but let's not hurry away from the topic. What is it that others are saying?”

A confused expression crossed her face before she realized she'd used a joke phrase from her world. He, obviously, would have no idea what she was talking about. 

“Sorry… that's just a thing we say where I'm from. Basically, you're just saying it as a joke because no one is really, actually saying anything. It's just…” she waved her hand in frustration and sighed. “Is not important.”

“Don't talk like that, Prefect. What we have to say must always be treated as important. Why would we say it if it wasn't important to us? Besides, I understand what was meant from your explanation. I know well that not everyone is able to or even wishes to handle my intensity and dedication to putting forth one's best self at every opportunity.”

It was her turn to smile empathetically. 

“Their loss,” she said, meaning every bit of it. Vil smiled. 

“Thank you kindly, my dear. I don't need the reassurance but I'm happy to know that you think so. Furthermore, I agree completely.”

They both laughed softly and she felt a little better. 

The door opened and the miserable girl noticed the room was empty aside from Vil and herself, as well as Rook who had returned as promised. 

“How is our little Trickster?” He asked as he joined them, quickly pulling a table over before setting all the things he carried upon it. 

The Ramshackle first year rolled her eyes but it was in a fond manner. She had to admit that Rook’s odd tendencies were growing on her a little. He was weird as fuck but he was also a really good guy when it came down to it. 

Neither she nor Vil had a chance to answer as the door opened again. Epel came in, bearing a large bowl with a utensil sticking out. It was still steaming; the gentle clouds billowing behind Epel as he hurried to her as fast as he could without spilling any of it's contents.

The scent of the soup reached her nose not long after that and her stomach growled loudly. The others laughed as she blushed and covered her face with her hands. 

A bowl was now in her peripheral vision and she looked up at Epel with a smile of thanks. He smiled back at her as she took it, breathing in the steam with a happy sigh. 

“Your stomach growling as it did also suggests you have not been keeping hydrated. Be sure you're taking breaks throughout the day to drink plenty of water. Understand?”

The Ramshackle Prefect nodded. 

“Good. Now, the three of us are going to take care of you for a little while. That will relax your body and your nerves. It'll likely alleviate your migraine as well. The cramps should lessen for the evening, at the very least.”

“I took the liberty of getting a heating pad for you—non! I will not accept payment. This is a gift between friends.”

Vil nodded. “Likewise.”

“The same goes for me even though I'm not sure what I can do.”

Vil smiled at him. “I'll show you.”

The girl looked from Vil, to Epel, to Rook. Yet again, overcome with emotion, she felt tears rush to her eyes and she grumbled as she tried to brush them away. 

“Oh, you poor dear,” Vil said. His tone was the softest she ever heard it.

Then he did something that surprised her tears into stopping as if she was some protagonist in a shoujo anime. 

He hugged her, taking care not to spill the bowl still in her hands.

Vil Schoenheit had just hugged her. 

Was she dreaming? Had she passed out?

While she wasn't interested in him, at least not like that, he was famous and impossibly beautiful. Besides, she probably smelled. She really hoped she didn't smell. 

Vil didn't seem to mind it if she did at that moment though so she did the only thing she could think of…besides just standing there. 

She hugged him back, using one hand to carefully hold the bowl of still steaming soup.

That seemed to be the cue for Epel and Rook who hugged them both. 

The group hug went on for a few more moments before Vil pulled away, causing the other two to do so as well. 

“Alright! Eat your soup, my dear, and then the real work begins.” He smirked. “I finally have the perfect excuse to take care of those dreadful pores.”

The Prefect tried to fake glare at him, but in the end, she just chuckled and shrugged. 

“Thank you for this, you guys. It… it means a lot.”

Vil just shushed her. 

“Eat your soup, Stage Manager. My time is precious and, by now, you've learned well that I don't like to waste it.”

Smiling, the Ramshackle Prefect and temporary Stage Manager did as she was told.

[tyummyz]

ᝰ.ᐟ the sounds of opposite style . . . ✉️

summary = while swan is trying to decorate their cozy, pink living room for christmas, she’s met by some…unexpected music from colby.

warnings = cursing + just silly fluff with swan and colby

a / n = thank you to @mattsbows , ur inbox inspired this whole thing

swan was stood on a birch step-stool infront of her and colby’s tree. she was tying some pink ribbons onto the branches that she could now reach with help of the stool. swan had also decided that she definitely wasn’t doing the back of the tree since ‘nobody would see it anyways’. she had some pink, plaid pajama pants on, the ones that colby gave her for christmas of course, and colby was supposed to be wearing his matching ones — but he was in some black sweatpants, back in the bedroom since he claimed he was too tired to help swan decorate.

swan jumped off the stool and smiled, stepping back until she was against the counter. she looked up and down in satisfaction, giving a few excited jumps because of how pretty their tree looked. she pulled her phone out and took a couple pictures of it to put on instagram later.

“perfect!” swan whispered to herself, clapping her hands a bit. she went to the oven while it started to beep, she grabbed her pink oven-mitt and pulled a tray of soon-to-be peanut butter blossoms. she sat them on the counter and took another picture before letting them cool. she sat on the counter and laid back on it, her blonde hair sprawling out all over the marble counters.

everything seemed to be all relaxed while swan waited for the cookies to be cooled off enough to plop some hershey kisses onto them. well, it was calm until the tv in the living room switched on and $uicideboy$ started blasting throughout the house.

swan squealed and dropped her phone, covering her ears and groaning. she walked over and saw spotify open on the tv, she immediately rolled her eyes. wouldn’t be the first time colby connected to the tv and blasted music.

“colby!” swan screamed, her voice drowned out by the music. swan looked around at her and colby’s living room (which was slowly becoming just her living room). the loud music a contrast between the bow-shaped throw pillows, the soft pink and white blankets draped over the black couches, the shades of pink and white decorations that covered every shelf there, the small candles on the glass coffee table. it all screamed ‘swan’, but this music was all colby.

swan groaned and she stormed back to her and colby’s room, pushing the door open with her hip and walking to colby who was laying back on the bed. she grabbed his phone and shut off the music, crossing her arms and looking down at her dumbfounded boyfriend.

“uh…hey, gorgeous.” colby yapped, giving swan that goofy smile she always found adorable.

“colby— no more connecting to the tv! it’s ruining my whole vibe i got going on.” swan huffed, looking at her boyfriend, who was still in pajamas.

“sorry, baby. how about i come help you bake to make up for it?” colby’s words immediately got a smile on swan’s face,

“get in your pink pajamas and come meet me in the kitchen!” she cheered, kissing his nose and skipping to the kitchen.

the rest of their night went exactly as swan wanted, colby claimed the pink pjs and the cookies were all ruining his day, but swan knew he was just joking.

the two also knew this wouldn’t be the last time that colby blasted his music, and it certainly wasn’t the first.

[libraryofloveletters]

Sweet Like Candy

Paulo Dybala x Fem!Reader

Warnings: teacher!reader, candy shopping, paulo thinks you're insane, gross flavoured candy canes, some giggles and one slightly dirty thought from paulo if you squint.

Word Count: 715

Author's Note: paulo just has the vibe that he has never has a candy cane and he would give the best ratings lmao so here we are.

--

You had started making holiday treat bags for your class with the help of your boyfriend, who seems to be puzzled by the long curved candy you put in the bags. 

As a teacher, you vouch to do all the things that you saw on Pinterest with your class.

Hence why you were at the store, in the midst of all the Christmas madness, shopping for candies and treats to put into little loot bags for your students.

Your boyfriend, Paulo, followed you around the store, pushing the shopping cart. "What about these?" He asks, holding up a pack of Christmas themed erasers.

"Those are so cute," you smiled, "get a few packs." You were picking up some pencils and little stickers you'd put into the bags for them.

The shopping cart was already overflowing with things that you and Paulo didn't need, but picked up anyways, along with all of the stuff that you had picked up for your students. You make your way over to the candy aisle and pick up a few packs of lollipops and Hershey kisses before you turn to the giant wall of candy canes.

"Why are they shaped like that?" He asks you and you glance over at him, the man leaning on the cart. "Like what?"

"Like that," he says, picking up a pack. "Candy canes," he reads the package, turning it over to read the back.

"Why are you looking at it like that? You've never seen a candy cane before?"

"I mean yeah, but I never tried it." He says, tossing the pack in the car, he assumed you wanted them for your students. You mirror his actions, picking up a few packs and setting them into the cart for your students.

It finally hit you what your boyfriend had just said.

"You've never tried a candy cane?!" You look at the man, utter surprise on your face.

Paulo shrugs, "I've been busy baby, what can I say?"

"Okay so make time, we're trying some tonight."

He nods, watching as your fingers waved over the shelves as if you were looking for something. You picked out a few different picks for him to try; peppermint, sour patch, Froot Loops, Oreos, and pickles.

"Pickles?" His nose wrinkles, "I'm throwing up already."

You laughed, "you need at least one gross flavour, it's a must."

It takes you a bit to get home but when you finally do, you unwrap the boxes of candy canes, taking one of each flavour out.

"Ready?" You ask him, getting him a glass of water before sitting with him on the couch. Paulo looks at you, holding back his laugh - you were taking this very seriously.

"As ready as I could ever be, babe."

You handed him the candy cane, he'd taste it, put a rating down and then take a sip of water before you repeated the process five times. It took him a bit of rearranging, and some double tasting before he finally settled on his official rating.

"Okay, let's hear it," you tell him, breaking off a piece from the peppermint one and sucking on it. Paulo watches you for a moment, lost in thought.

"Paulo?" you waved your hands in front of his face, chuckling. "Don't be dirty right now. I still need your help with the bags."

"Oh yeah, right." He smiles, cheeks flushed a bit red before he takes a sip of water. "The official ratings are pickles in 5th place, Froot Loops in 4th, sour patch in 3rd, Oreos in 2nd and the winner is peppermint."

"Really? I thought you liked the sour patch flavour more than the Oreo."

"I did but then it left a weird taste in my mouth so Oreo took over as second place."

You nod, picking out a few of the candy canes for him. "Here," you hand them for you, "I'll pick up another box when I go to the store over the weekend, now come help me put these together."

Paulo sits across from you as you unwrap the things to put into the bags, he does his own unwrapping; undoing the plastic packaging on 3 of the candy canes and sticking them in his mouth at once.

"Paulo!" you laughed, "you can't do that, one at a time babe."

He smiles, holding all 3 of the candy canes as he shrugs. You shake your head, thinking to yourself that he's not that much further off than your students.

[alaskan-wallflower]

sweet, salty or savory w/m5

Cartman:

Savory

He’s a WHORE for KFC like there’s no way he isn’t a savory person

Though he does also like sweet. A lot.

Surprisingly not a salty kind of guy

Stan

Salty af

Hes the kind of person to put salt on pretzels

I dunno why. He just gives salty vibes

He’ll eat straight up salt sometimes like nobody knows why. Not even he knows why. He just likes the taste.

Kyle

Savory as well

Especially spice

Will put pepper on anything and everything

he once put pepper on chili

He never had a huge sweet tooth, mainly because he always has to be wary of that kind of thing with his diabetes

so he never really developed a sweet tooth

Kenny

Honestly all of the above

He doesn’t care tbh

He’ll fuck up some KFC and go to McDonalds for a McFlurry right after

Hes the kind of guy to like his fries dipped in a shake

It makes him feel sophisticated

Butters

Has the biggest sweet tooth known to man

He absolutely sneaks candy whenever his parents go out and gets a major stomach ache

He always eats his halloween candy before he’s gets home too because he knows his parents take it

But if he were allowed to he would definitely just go ham on a pile of hershey bars

Side headcanon but he loves peeps. What a cretin/j

[inthefieldwithdiamondbutterflies]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVORITE WALL CRAWLER

-warning this post will be a tad bit chaotic and long but hopefully lots of fun. I had fun doing this

In honor of his special day, i decided to make him a birthday cake. 🎂

I’ve had this headcanon that every year on his birthday he loves a chocolate cake with blue icing

So I decided to bake just that

As someone with minimal baking skills

Let’s go

Nia vs baking 👩‍🍳

First wash your hands

Then gather up all your ingredients. This is the cake mix I used. Once the eggs, water, oil and cake mix were all I needed for mine. Measure everything out and mix until well combined or for at least two minutes on medium. And drink a cup of water while you’re at it. Your body loves water. Not too much or risk water poisoning. Too much of anything can kill ya.

Then go ahead and grease whatever type of pan you’re using and place it in oven. I used mini pans so it can be a layered cake. It smelt so good while baking and then I nearly almost burned because read the instruction on the box. Make sure you read really carefully and use the time they give how big your pan is

I feel like Peter would like a homemade cake though for his birthday. I think it was just something he had while growing up and not coming from a lot. He appreciates it more than a store brought cake. Mainly because he knows someone close to him took time out of their day to make something special for him. Think he just grew up on it and is favorite tradition for his birthday. Plus he probably loves a good rich, moist chocolate. Just big sweet tooth vibes in general from him. He would love going to Hershey, PA and making his own chocolate bar or even just the M&M store to celebrate. His ideal birthday would probably just be something small and intimate. He cares a lot about out his loved ones and spending time with them.

While baking I cleaned up and jammed out to some Taylor Swift. Does anyone else think that Peter would have a hard time getting plastered btw? I think that purely because of his high metabolism. But if he ever does get there oh be prepared.

Anyways back to baking. Grab some white frosting. I had like half a thing left so I only used five drops of blue food coloring to get what I wanted. I say start off slowly and don’t add in a lot at once because can’t take it away.

Once cakes are done take them out and let them cool. If you greased them properly they should pop right out like how mine did. Number one baker over here.

Once cooled down try and level the cakes (thank you very much YouTube bakers for teaching me this)

I don’t have a cool tool like they do is just used a bread knife and hoped for the best

That hope caused me cutting off a but too much from some and not enough from others so was a little lopsided but it gives personality !!!

Then go ahead and frost. Slap that frosting all over the cake until it’s nice and coated

Another trick I learned was a crumb coat. Frost first, stick it in the fridge for a bit and then frost again. I don’t feel like it made that much of a difference but I am a frosting girly so I wasn’t mad

Next, grab your fav lil Spider-Man plush, give him a party hat and light candles in the cake

Lastly, cut yourself a slice and indulge on your favorite spidey movie

Happy baking ❤️💙🖤

[self-loathing-angel-of-thursday2]

Beautiful Spouse’s Thoughts 01x07 The Case of the Very Long Stairway

“What was that spider made up of? It looked like a bunch of Hershey kisses all tied up together in the shape of a spider. It was very strange” “the hell is that shirt? A pink snake? That’s kinda funny” “Does he have dentures on?” “Idk it doesn’t look like it. Idk if it was for the character or not” “I didn’t like bird people anyway” “I would like to understand the mechanism that spews the hot wax outside the skull. I know it’s CG, but is it hot in the skull and cold in the room?” “It’s not peer pressure if she’s not one of their peers, right?” “Is that Season 2?” “why is she reasoning with a dead boy?” “you have to be alive to do those things I assume” “so now is Jenny going to see the boys? Or is she still clueless?” “huh that’s kinda funny” “if ghosts were real, imagine the crazy fucked up tv shows they’d make about whatever. Just assume they’re real, that changes how we operate, what shows would happen?” “what if you don’t know that many people?” “doesn’t he have an infinite sack?” “is this s2 already? Is every season a level of hell” “is that the crazy lady?” “this looks kinda like that one nightclub downtown” “was he trying to walk through it? Or travel the mirror or something?” “or that one hotel in Seattle” “Didn’t it say DO NOT RING in the fkn journal? Why did he ring the bell? But it’s scratched out? So do ring it?” “this is the lockpicking lawyer…” “I want Potbelly’s now” “this is like the first hallway they ran threw but shittified” “that’s just wallpaper made to look like books. It has no depth. The books in the foreground look real though” “I feel like after a century, you’d be way more efficient than that, and you’d have way more paper around you”” “mmkay” “what’s that?” “why so many feelings?” “really? He’s going to give up on him that easy huh? Better than going off with the only person who’s walked into the room in the last 100 years?” “wouldn’t Death have put the kid there? Why did Death come back?” “so does this make teenagers children then? I’m not saying I agree or disagree. I’m just asking for facts” “we’re all itching to go into hell?” “that’s interesting” “maybe she doesn’t want them back?” “is that the mind’s eye or something?” “literally burying him ok fine” laughter “Ok” “oh hey bitch” “why are we looking at lobotomy shit?” laughter

“I think they meant to make those look creepier than they were” “almost a stranger things vibe” “I feel like he could have been quieter than that” “oh it’s not Hershey kisses; it’s a bunch of weird dolls” “ok”

“Is it only the eight eyes on the head or is it all the eyes that work?” “imagine filming this” “fkn what the fuck” “what did you do at work today/ Squirm around on the floor. That was insane” “just a few more” “get the hell out before your argue” sigh

“Say it on the other side” “time to fkn go bud” “you could have gone faster but we had to deal with our feelings. Let’s fkn go” “I suppose that what happens to the other lady counts as a near death experience” “that was a very odd technicality” “ok”

“Can’t Jenny see the boys? It would make the explanation so much easier” “he’s going to kill the tree though so that’s not good” “only 4 of them” “give them to the crow and see if he explodes if he doesn’t take them back?” “what does it taste like I wonder” “is it like swallowing a hard candy?”

[oneforthemunny]

ok but the eddies as halloween candies?

omg I love this

ok so mafia!eddie is snickers… idk like off vibes alone he gives snickers energy. but not the itty bitty bite size ones like the true fun size in the brown wrapper.

janitor!eddie cookie and cream hershey the fun size ones that are like little tomb stones? those specifically.

older!eddie just gives whoppers energy to me. I tried to think of something old man ish lol but that’s the closest I got besides the sugar babies 💀

modern!eddie gives big nerds energy. either the grape halloween ones out of the teeny tiny cardboard boxes (has to be those tiny ones for the extra flavor) or I’d also accept the nerd clusters.

rockstar!eddie is fun dip but only the blue one. his whole mouth turns blueish green and he always eats the stick down to a nub before the powders gone so his fingers are blue and coated and sticky.

cowboy!eddie is reese’s but only the pumpkins not the shitty ones in tin foil that taste stale as fuck.

bouncer!eddie is skittles. his favorite one is red but you’re not really sure how he even knows that bc he takes the fun size packs and eats them all at once to make like a mega skittle. “i’m literally tasting all of the rainbow, babe.”

[hotshotsxyz]

Heyyyy

1, 7, and 10 💕💕

ooh yay okay!

Assign a supernatural creature to the members of the 118

okay so i kind of want to make bobby and buck both vampires, except bobby's been around for centuries but buck was turned some time between leaving hershey and joining the 118. i'm gonna say chim is a mostly corporeal ghost (died from rebar to the head rip, came to work the next day like nothing happened). on vibes alone, hen is a phoenix. part of me wants eddie to be Just Some Guy that doesn't believe in any of it But i'll say he's a witch who maintains as much skepticality as is humanly possible. finally, my beloved ravi is a merman & is currently away visiting his bestie who changed her name in hawaii

7. What are your headcanons about their first Halloweens?

maddie has been a cat for halloween literally every year of her life. she owns 26 different pairs of cat ears. the first halloween that chimney remembers, he went trick-or-treating with kevin. they convinced the lees to drive them to a super rich neighborhood in hopes of getting full sized candy bars. this plan succeeded spectacularly & resulted in a multi-day sugar coma for everyone. on buck's first halloween, maddie found the pumpkin costume daniel wore as a baby and took him to the hospital so the three of them could spend it together. one of the nurses took a polaroid of them and gave it to maddie, who still has the picture to this day. when eddie had his first halloween with chris, he was already old enough to trick-or-treat. he took him and some other neighborhood kids around in the back of his truck, resulting in a truly massive candy haul. it was the first time eddie really felt any success as a parent, and he's loved halloween ever since

10. If 911 was a supernatural show, how would your favorite storyline be rewritten?

buck's a vampire and absolutely no one knows. this is fine except when it's incredibly isolating and the worst thing that ever happened to him until his best friend and the love of his afterlife gets shot right in front of him & he has to decide whether or not he should turn eddie without his consent in order to save his life. ultimately, he can't bring himself to do it. survivors largely plays out the same way, but at the end, wracked with guilt, buck tells eddie what he could've done. he kind of expects eddie to hate him, but instead he thanks him for giving him the choice. years later, when buck gets struck by lightning, they realize he's functionally immortal. the next time they're alone, eddie asks buck to turn him so he'll never be alone. and then they kiss about it

send me a spooky 911 ask? (or rb it so i can ask you!!)

[anxsity]

first of all, all my good vibes are going towards locker rn. we love u sm and wish you all the best beloved

3 ⭐ / 5 ⭐

i am SO proud of ethen frank- i love him sm and in my mind he won. sorry disregard the score but ethen frank fucking won okay. he got an assist!!!!! in his first nhl game!!!!!!!! also thank u chychy and tiger for the goals i appreciate it. please GOD let chuckie be okay, he was doing SO good but also dont push urself out of a concussion give urself time babe. our goalies in hershey are doing great so im not that scared, just hesitant ig. man. wdym we have a back to back......

[finitevoid]

theres a customer at my job who has like a fixation on me and one of the girls i close with, every couple of weeks he shows up with some kind of bag of candy or something else of that nature and gives it to one of us while winkingly telling us to have a good day and enjoy this candy from him. like he started this by handing my coworker a candy bar one day. my coworkers encountered him by herself twice and he always tells her to share the candy with me specifically, like, that its a gift for us both. ive encountered him by myself three or four times and usually he tells me to share the candy with my coworker, but most recently he walked up to me and handed me a single, individually wrapped oreo. he said, "here, have a treat."

my coworker's been coincidentally moved mostly to morning shift rather than closing which means she wasnt there that day, which means he scoped out the counter to see who was working before going to acquire me some manner of confection. and i walked back over to my shift partner holding this fucking oreo and he was looking at me like i was goddamn insane. and i was like. What do i do with this. emily was like, eat it? i was like I dont want his creepy oreo. so i threw it out

the craziest part is that i dont remember him at all prior to him starting to give us these bags of candy. the first time he did it i was on break, and when i got back my coworker was like You wont BELIEVE what just happened. she recognized him as a regular but i didnt absorb his features whatsoever until he handed me a bag of hersheys kisses and told me to share them with my friend :). and i was like Oh. This is the candy guy . the craziest part is that he never wants anything from us. like he never asks us for cold cuts or cheese or whatever, like, you know, my job? my job working in a grocery store deli? he just walks up to make awkward small talk and give us candy

and like what am i supposed to do about this or think about this or feel about this

i assume he has a crush on me and my coworker but he also manages to always misgender her (Unbelievable) and misgender me (expected) which always confuses me

i never eat these candies (im lactose intolerant anyway) because the thought is kind of weird and slimy. this guy is like 40 and always wears a fedora. and he handed me an individually wrapped oreo and said Have a treat, like, you know, like the way you talk to a dog? ive mentioned this to the closing manager and its like, Whats he gonna do, the guy is categorically harmless so far, its not like he can kick him out. but the vibes are so bad. the vibes are utterly awful . Customer service

[gmwsuperfan5467890]

911 In Another Life Theories

Based on the synopsis and behind the scenes footage, we know that Buck is in a coma and dreams of what would happen if he never became a firefighter or in other words if he managed to save Daniel.

I will go character by character and examine what could possibly happen to them in Buck’s Coma dream.

1) Buck

In one of the behind the scenes videos, Buck is seen wearing a white button up, green sweater and tan slacks (I think they are slacks?). I like to call this look “Shaggy goes to Prom” because the colour scheme is reminiscent of the character Shaggy from Scooby Doo. Shaggy is a very chill, laid back guy while Buck’s attire is supposed to formal, giving the vibe that he is trying to be someone who he is not.

I think that Buck will still be striving to gain the approval from his parents, which he will never get because his parents never wanted him, they only wanted someone to save Daniel. In the beginning of Buck’s dream, his parents will seem more present but at the end of the day, their favoritism is very obvious. Buck will also not be reckless because he doesn’t need to get hurt to get his parents attention. His career will be in something that is very practical, the job that parents typically approve of but Buck will absolutely have no passion in, such as accounting, marketing, business, economics or an office job. I could also see Buck having a difficult job that he would have to study many years for, such as a doctor or nurse. Buck has most likely never travelled around the US and still lives in Hershey.

2) Daniel

Daniel is a normal, chill guy with extremely doting parents. His parents worship the ground he walks on and have given him everything as a child, which you’d think would make him spoiled but he surprisingly isn’t (thanks to Maddie). His parents will go on about how Buck should be more like Daniel even if Buck had done something remarkable and Daniel hadn’t. Daniel either lives in LA and the Buckelys will visit Daniel or Daniel lives in Hershey and the Buckleys go to LA on vacation for some reason.

In this coma dream, Daniel will be Buck’s “Guardian Angel” and they will have a conversation at the end. Daniel will tell Buck that it’s okay that he couldn’t save him, it wouldn’t have worked with Buck’s bone marrow or anyone else’s, these things happen and it’s nobody’s fault. Daniel will tell him that he loves him even if he had only known him briefly and that he will always be in his heart. Finally Daniel will tell to wake up and be with his real family and then Buck wakes up.

3) Maddie

Unfortunately, I think Maddie will still be with Doug. Assuming that both Buck and Daniel still live in Hershey, then Maddie would have nowhere to run since Hershey is the first place Doug would look. Alternatively, Maddie could be the one living in LA because she ran away from Doug, so the Buckleys end up in LA visiting her. I also don’t think Maddie and Buck will be as close because she didn’t raise him and they didn’t only have each other. Daniel and Buck probably have an inkling that Doug is abusing/abused Maddie but they aren’t 100% certain.

Maddie is definitely very closed off, isolated and lonely because she has no one to confide in and she doesn’t feel close enough to any of her family members to confide in.

4) Chimney

Since he is not with Maddie, Chimney will probably still be dating Tatiana or somebody like Tatiana. Chimney is still hiding who he is from the people he dates because he thinks no one will accept him for who he is. He will be a lot like Chimney from the first 3 eps of season 1, insecure, unsure if himself, always wanting to be a hero but never gets taken seriously. Ultimately Chimney will be miserable due to his love life and low self-esteem which could possibly bleed into his work life.

5) Hen

I think Hen will have already left for medical school years ago because the 118 wouldn’t really be the 118. There is no Buck, no Eddie, Chimney is miserable, Bobby is miserable, everything feels off. This more likely motivates Hen to go to med school and become a doctor before the season 6 timeline, in this case I would also assume that the lab explosion never happened and Karen and Denny are alive and well. Hen still keeps in touch with Bobby and Chim and Athena.

6) Bobby

I think Buck kind of heals Bobby because he got to be a father figure to him. I do want to add that Chim and Hen also help heal him by being his friends and helping him when times are rough but without all three of them helping Bobby, it will take him much longer to heal or even reach to the point he was at the end of season 1. Additionally, his insecurities in parenting Athena’s children will be much more present. Ultimately, Bobby’s lack of healing will cause Bathena to break up even though both they still love each other. Alternatively Bathena could still be together but their relationship would be rocky.

7) Athena

Bobby and Athena break up or have a rocky relationship. Bathena’s relationship was very important to Athena’s healing journey and her finally finding the love she deserved, so she would not be as healed as she is in the present-day timeline and she could still harbour hurt and resentment for Michael because he was the one who got to move on when she couldn’t. I wish I could think of more but Buck and Athena don’t interact that often.

8) Eddie

Eddie joins the 118 briefly but ends up moving back to Texas because taking care of a 7-year old while working a demanding job is impossible and there is no Carla or Buck to help him out. Additionally, he never quite felt at home in LA, his coworkers at the 118 were nice but seemed to be wrapped up in their own problems and were distant. There was also something (or someone) missing. So Eddie is in Texas with his parents who constantly criticize him and their relationship is never fixed. Eddie is still repressed and not as healed as in the present day timeline. He is still a good father to Chris but parenting is so hard when you’re doing it alone (or rather when you make a parenting decision and your parents push back on you saying it’s wrong and you argue back and forth for days).

Christopher growing up in this argument is not good for his mental health. In addition, he also loses a great parental figure (Buck). I could also see Chris resenting Eddie for not letting him see Shannon.

I understand that some of these theories may be a stretch, but I think the writers will want to show that Buck has affected each character in a profound way because 1) The point of these types of episodes is to show that the character that is dreaming or in a coma is important and loved 2) All the characters in this show affect each other in a profound way because they are a family.

I will also tag this post as Buddie because I said that Buck was Eddie’s home and what could be more romantic than being someone’s safe space, the person that they can confide in, their coparent and an integral part of their family unit?

I will also tag this as Bathena and Madney because as stated, these relationships are essential to these characters’ journeys and have helped them heal exponentially.

[andrebearakovsky]

(cont. ask) first of all NOOO don't apologize i was looking for a long post, this is why i came here! i've been lurking way back! i remembered your blog name! 2. wow??? this is such a comprehensive answer!!! 😍😍😍😍😍😍🤗😳 thank you so much! 3. any content you want to post i am here for! 4. i can't believe there are so many new guys, like yes of course, but i can't believe it! 5. Oh yeah the details of the Holtby thing are coming back to me, i seem to have repressed it.🙈

Aw that's so sweet of you! A longtime viewer! (Viewer? What am I, a YouTuber? Calm down.) It's sweet of you to remember me and I'm delighted that I am apparently famous and evidently famous for making long/extensive posts lol. Which I'm about to do again.

I talked about Strome, Milano, Sandin, and alllll those young guys on my last post, as well as Darcy and TvR. [And Dowd but you already knew him.] The rest of the guys currently on the team I haven't really touched on yet that joined post-Holtby era are Nicolas Aube-Kubel, Anthony Mantha, and Charlie Lindgren. I'll get into them in a bit, but I gotta get into some other things first.

You said you haven't really watched since the Holtby era, so I'm going to assume you know everything that happened/all the people we had up til that final season, and that you know little/nothing of what has happened since then. So I'm gonna give a quick recap of some of the big things that have happened in that time:

You missed the ENTIRETY of the Sammy and Vitek goaltending era, which was kinda turbulent. Sammy was gonna be the starter with Henrik Lundqvist as the backup, but then it turned out Lundqvist had a heart condition and had to retire and never played a game for the Caps. This forced Vitek into action, and we had 2 years of the Sammy and Vitek goaltending duo. I, personally, loved it. Some people did not. I still hold that they were BOTH GOOD!! They split time, neither one ever TRULY grasped the starting reigns. There was also when Vitek got taken by the Kraken in the expansion draft and then immediately traded him back to us. Also they were besties, which started when they were a duo down in Hershey. It's also why my blog is titled "goalie best friend tandem," though it also currently applies to Darcy and Chuck who are besties. You can search the "goalie best friends" tag on my blog for cute Sammy and Vitek content. Neither of them are here anymore, but they're still friends - I remember seeing a quote Vitek gave to some Devils people talking about him and about still being friends and such.

Players you knew back from the Holtby era who are no longer with us: Lars Eller, Richard Panik (useless), Jonas Siegenthaler, Travis Boyd, Christian Djoos, Michal Kempny, Radko Gudas, Garnet Hathaway, Dmitry Orlov [don't talk to me about these last two I'm sad]

Players that played with us for multiple seasons after the Holtby era who are no longer with us this year: Justin Schultz, Conor Sheary, Daniel Sprong, Matt Irwin

COVID robbed us of our time with Brenden Dillon and I'm sad about it

We had Zdeno Chara for 1 year, and he straightup fixed Nick Jensen. Jensen was abysmal before that, then Chara was his defense partner for the whole year, and Jensen is good now. I no longer dread every time he touches the puck, I trust him. Also he has a personality now! Idk what kind of dark magic Chara used, but I will be forever thankful to him for it. 1 year of Chara absolutely 1000% worth it just for fixing Nick Jensen

We got Marcus Johansson back! :) And then we traded him again

We traded Jakub Vrana for Anthony Mantha, who is useless and unfortunately still here. He never fit in with the team vibe of "sexy idiots," he's not loud enough or slutty enough.

In March 2022 Carl Hagelin suffered a really bad eye injury during practice. I think the butt end of someone's stick got into his eye? (We were never told whose stick it was, I'm sure they have to feel absolutely terrible about it.) He's lucky he didn't lose his eye. He tried to come back, but he never played a game again after that. He was technically on the roster all of last season, but he never got into any games, and he just announced his retirement this summer. A really sad end, tbh. And RIP to the 4th line of dreams.

We were GONNA have Connor Brown for the 2022-23 season, and he was gonna play with Dylan Strome whom he's friends with and played in juniors with. But he played for like 2 games and then got hurt and was out for the season and never played for us again. I think he's in Edmonton now.

You know about goal songs, right?? I think the last year of Holtby was the first year of goal songs. I have a Spotify playlist of goal songs if you wanna check it out

There have been SO many injuries the last 3 years. 2021-22 was what I like to call the year of babies. I don't even remember who exactly was injured but there were so many injuries it necessitated the callup of SO many rookies. TWELVE rookies played that season: Martin Fehervary, Connor McMichael, Beck Malenstyn, Garrett Pilon, Hendrix Lapierre, Brett Leason, Aliaksei Protas, Axel Jonsson-Fjallby, Zach Fucale, Joe Snively, Alex Alexeyev, and Lucas Johansen. All of whom made their NHL debuts that season except for Fehervary, McMichael, Malenstyn, and Pilon. Of those rookies, Fehervary and McMichael were the only ones who were really supposed to make the team that season; they stuck around the whole season, while Leason and Protas played 30+ games, AJF played 20+, Snively and Malenstyn played more than 10 each, and the rest had 6 or less. It was truly the year of babies. Some of those guys aren't in the organization anymore, but I think this is the year the rest of them finally make the leap and are true full-timers. [Except for Fehervary, who already is]

More injury news: Nicky and Tom were injured for like the first half of last season. And in December, John Carlson broke his fucking face. He got hit in the face with a puck and it broke his entire face, like it was really bad, and he hardly played again. I think he came back for like the last few weeks, but tbh his injury was when the season went downhill. [I say "broke his face" but the official reports are he had a fractured skull and severed temporal artery. Yikes! He's fine now though]

Ovi just keeps breaking goal records. He got 800 goals and then passed Gordie Howe last season!!! He is now number 2 all-time in goals!! He currently has 822. Watch out, Gretzky, he's comin' for ya

Oh yeah the Hershey Bears won the Calder Cup this year!! It was absolutely epic. They played the Coachella Valley Firebirds (Kraken AHL team) in the finals, and it was an awesome finals. It went to Game 7 overtime. GAME SEVEN OVERTIME!!!!! Do you know how rare that is? It's only the 2nd time the Calder Cup Finals has gone to overtime in Game 7, with the first time being in 1953. In the NHL, it has only ever happened in the Stanley Cup Finals TWICE. EVER! By the Wings in 1950 and 1954. So the Bears won the Calder Cup in Game 7 overtime and it was exciting as FUCK. And a lot of guys who might make the Caps roster this year were on that Cup-winning team: Snively, Protas, McMichael, Malenstyn, Johansen, as well as top prospects Lapierre and Iorio. They're the oldest franchise in the AHL, and that was their 12th Calder Cup, which is the most in AHL history.

And you said to feel free to post some content so I am going to POST some CONTENT. Starting with:

✨Darcy Kuemper✨

I fucking love Darcy, so much. I've already said that I've liked him for a long time, and I'm absolutely elated to have him on the team. He won the Cup with the Avs in 2022. He is also very tall, he's 6'5", one time he hugged TJ and it made TJ look like a child. He's so sweet, and he's so dumb. He's like a giant labrador. Some of my favorite assorted Darcy things and moments include:

In one of his first interviews after signing he said he was gonna visit every museum in DC, and I'm like no you're not, Darcy, that's not possible. Our first sign that he was a big dummy

One time suplexed Matthew Tkachuk into the ice

Got a shot on goal during a game last year

The time he tried to "interview" Nick Jensen at the outdoor game practice while giggling incessantly

Here's him at NHL media day last year, featuring him kicking a soccer ball like you see in my profile pic :)

Says one of his life goals is to bring back the dinosaurs. Please see this post for the full story on that one

Is absolute BESTIES with Charlie Lindgren, the backup goalie. Like, so much so that they and their wives constantly take their dogs on walks together, the dogs are reportedly besties as well, and the Kuempers dog-sat Chuck's dog over Christmas. They also kind of have matching dogs, I'll include a picture below. Chuck also called himself and Darcy two of the "more normal goalies in the league" which is an absolute lie after the dinosaurs thing, so clearly Chuck doesn't have that many brain cells rolling around up there either. They also did THIS at media day this year. Their friendship is just so pure. You can read more about it in this article. And like, they didn't know each other before signing here. According to the article, evidently after they signed, they texted each other and then literally the scene from stepbrothers happened

And then TvR 🥰 Mine own love TvR. I adore Trevor van Riemsdyk so much. He's just got incredibly good vibes. I also have a bit more of a personal attachment to him, because he and I have the same birthday (July 24). He's a bit soft-spoken, especially compared to some of the other freaks on this team. Possibly one of the only ones with any semblance of a brain cell. He's not flashy; he's a steady-eddy defenseman, almost always on the third pair barring injuries. He's not gonna score a bunch of points, but he plays hard defensively every game (one of the reasons goalies love him), he's reliable, and he blocks SO many shots. He's also one of THE guys on the penalty kill. The penalty kill is TvR, Jensen, Fehervary, and Dowd, those are the main guys. We also officially claimed him as our own. As of this year, he will have played more years with the Caps than with anyone else, he currently has more goals, assists, and points with us than with anyone else, and after about 40 more games he will have played more games with us than with anyone else.

Also the ENTIRE team is absolutely fucking OBSESSED with him. There aren't like that many big specific things I can point to, it's just how I've noticed them treating him over the years, and how they talk about/to him and the general energy. They all love to shout "REEEEEEEEEEEEMERRRRRRRR" at any and every opportunity. And like you can just tell that every single one of them is deeply in love with him. They are all constantly tripping over themselves to give him the player of the game award in the locker room, even when other guys have a bunch of points in the game and it feels like they're the obvious choice but no they all want to give a love letter to their collective crush. The goalies especially love him. (Here's Chuck giving him the POTG, Nicky giving him the POTG, and a recounting of Sammy's love affair with him two seasons ago). The coaches also love him, sometimes too much for their own good - there have been times in the last few years when they've put TvR on the power play and in the shootout (??) when he had no business being there lol. And like I don't blame them lmao. He's grown to become a leader on the team (and occasionally gets As on his chest during preseason games and when a bunch of dudes are injured - another thing that confirms to me they're all in love with him, he got real high up on the chain of command real quick), he's super consistent (there was one game last year when there were so many injuries on D that the defense was quite literally just TvR plus a bunch of rookies - I said that day that the defense was "TvR and a dream"), and he will absolutely never put his mouthguard in his mouth. So as the year goes on, and as you watch games and social media content, just keep your eyes peeled, watch TvR, and you'll see that the entire team is so fucking horny for TvR specifically. I made this meme awhile back, which is exactly how the Caps feel about TvR:

Other miscellaneous fun facts about the team and players that I think you should know:

Our backup goalie is Charlie Lindgren, but we all call him Chuck. It suits him better, especially with his mustache. He also catches right-handed, which is different than practically every other goalie in the league. So like if you look, he and Darcy wear their catching gloves on different hands.

There are a LOT of NHL brothers on this team. Dylan Strome's older brother Ryan plays for the Ducks, and his younger brother Matt actually plays for the Hershey Bears. Trevor van Riemsdyk is also the middle child of three hockey-playing brothers: his older brother James plays for the Bruins, and younger brother Brendan doesn't play in the NHL but played college hockey. And Charlie Lindgren is the oldest of 3 hockey brothers: Andrew played college hockey but never made the NHL, and youngest brother Ryan plays for the Rangers.

Kuzy has been doing some wacky shit in the shootout the last few years, just go look it up on YouTube

Here's a video of the mentors trip this year so you can see Sonny Milano's father who is simply exactly who I envisioned him to be in my head

Nicolas Aube-Kubel (NAK), a French-Canadian fourth line winger that the Caps picked up on waivers in November last year, is Sergei Ovechkin's (Ovi's son) favorite player. We learn this in a video feature with Ovi's wife and kids (I'm including the link to this gifset from the lovely @thornescratch which is where I first saw this). The producer asks who Sergei's favorite player is, and Sergei immediately answers "Aube-Kubel." Not only is Aube-Kubel his "guy" according to Nastya, but then we also see that a selfie of Sergei and Aube-Kubel is the lock screen of Sergei's iPad. And Sergei calls Aube-Kubel his "best friend." Learning this information is such a curveball, because it's like the last person you'd expect Sergei's favorite to be. It's not somebody Russian or even European, it's not somebody old or someone who's been on the team a long time, it's not one of his dad's closer friends, and it's not even one of the stars of the team, it's a young Canadian dude who plays fourth line if he's in. Aube-Kubel must be REALLY friendly, otherwise why else would he be Sergei's favorite? You know it has to be absolutely devastating to Tom Wilson to not be Sergei's favorite lol. [I'm also convinced this is why they re-signed NAK so quick in the offseason, you HAVE to bring back Sergei's favorite player!!]

Speaking of NAK: remember how I said Beck Malenstyn was Nic Dowd's chosen winger? NAK is his OTHER chosen winger. Those two are twin shitstarters and Dowd loves them and I know he absolutely wants both of them on his line this season. They're gonna be a great 4th line. I could talk all day about Dowd and his 4th line duties, and you can ask me to do that if you want but I'm not gonna do it here

I also know everyone's zodiac sign because I'm a freak. I can also get more into that in a separate post if you want

There's probably more stuff, but this is all I can think of for now. Please feel free to ask me more stuff, I love diving into things. Stuff about the team, players, my favorites, whatever. I hope this is both informative and entertaining!

[buckleyirondad]

I think the Buckley siblings are definitely upper class and they never really had to worry about money. Not because of the down payment on the house, because of everything. We know Buck had college money and he spent them on his bike and going around the world to find yourself is not really something people who struggle with money do. Also I think both SEAL training and FIRE academy aren’t free and that’s not really something you can pay with bartending tips. Buck entire lifestyle is very rich kid coded: moving out of a house you don’t pay to an apartment you rent for sentimental reasons, planning hot balloon dates, suing the LAFD (lawyers are very expensive) and his whole vibe.

Sorry, this answer is long! 9-1-1 isn't particularly known for its accuracy regarding the earnings of first responders. We forgive that because it's fictional.

Update: According to their website, All LAFD programs are free aside from the $73 signup fee and also states, 'The Department does not charge for any of our recruitment and mentoring services.'

The Buckley siblings are not trustfund babies. I’m not saying their parents aren't well-off, I don’t doubt that, but it doesn't mean they shared their wealth with their adult children (until helping Madney with the deposit.) I’m saying ‘adult’ because I believe while they were growing up, the parents funded everything parents are expected to: clothes, food, etc.

Let’s work with what we know. In Buck Begins, Maddie says ‘I'm gonna go nights so I can work during the day, pay for it myself. That way, I won't need to ask Mom and Dad for anything ever again.” I’m guessing that despite their parents doing their bare minimum of what is expected, they weren’t too kind about it, highlighted by how Maddie says this line. She knows she’ll either not get the financial support from her parents, in becoming a nurse, or they’ll complain about it if they do.  So, she goes it alone, deciding to almost work twenty-four days so she doesn’t have to ask them for money!

In 4x04, while arguing with his parents, he says this, “She married Doug, and you cut her off.” Maddie was married to Doug for eleven years, that’s eleven years no contact with her parents, after they cut her off. Cut off contact, and likely cut any kind of financial support. They wanted nothing to do with her, as Buck repeatedly points out in this scene.

What about Boston? I’ve seen that so many times on twitter. How did Maddie afford to live in Boston for six months and get expensive medical treatment? Doug’s life insurance. She received $400, 000. She says in 5x13, “I used most of my savings when I left,” which matches the belief that she used this money to fund her care in Boston.

Now, you’re right about Buck’s college tuition money. “Maybe you use your tuition money to make some cool modifications on your bike.” We don’t know for sure if this was entirely funded by his parents or if he had student loans. Since I am British, all I know about college is from movies, apparently some parents will keep college funds aside from their children as standard. So perhaps, yes, he did have a tuition fee paid by his parents, which maybe is why he rebelled.  Remember this is young, angry and restless Buck, he was likely to burn through that money like it meant nothing, because being reckless or getting hurt, was his way of gaining his parents attention.

But more importantly, is what happened next. When Buck leaves Hershey, Maddie gives him her Jeep and some of her own money. “Look, I can give you a little bit of money to get started, and then you can go anywhere you want.” It is Maddie who funds Buck’s ticket out of that house, giving up her two means of escape. Savings she had, from working her arse off in Boston and as a nurse! Now, Buck’s dynamic with his sister, is so different to his parents. He likely kept that money very safe and was incredibly frugal because Maddie gave it to him. So, it was more special.

Quite explicitly, we see that Buck never settles down when he’s on the road. He goes, from one place, to the next, to the next. Picking up many jobs. Likely couch surfing, sleeping in the jeep, or cheap motels, Buck didn’t have hefty bills to pay! He could save up, on the road.  All those years of traveling around, and saving would fund NAVY Seals and Firefighter training. What also helped, is he lived in a Frat House, not making him financially liable for all the bills, which were split evenly across all the guys. Then he lived in Abby’s apartment, where once again, he wasn’t paying any bills. With a fireman’s salary, while living in a frat house, and sharing the bills, he likely found it easier to save. Making it easier to fund a hot air balloon ride, a nice studio apartment, and then a lawyer!

They do call Buck's place a "frat house," but I'm not sure how true that was, but if it was an actual frat house and he didn't make any payments, that's more savings. But I don't think he wanted to stay in the frat house.

Buck also couch-surfed in LA! He lived with Chimney and then Maddie, for a considerable amount of time before ever moving into his apartment. Time he likely spent saving.

Anyway, that’s what we know. I still can’t ever believe the Buckley parents ever set up trustfunds. Neither Maddie nor Buck saw a dime after they left or were cut off. Not until more recently now that the Buckley Parents are attempting to make an effort. Still, Buck and Maddie grew up self-efficient, relying on each other, not their parents.

On an unrelated note, I would be interested to see a storyline of when one of their parents passes away though. If they do get left with money, I wonder if it would strike up the argument that money doesn't fix all the problems and neglect they experienced during their childhood and beyond.