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honklore · 4 years ago

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landslide | karl jacobs

(kindergarten teacher!karl, single mom!reader, oh no karl’s apartment gets flooded so he has to stay at his best friend from high school’s house who also happens to be the mother of his favorite student, karl just being soft and sweet and a great friend, um talk about the baby daddy being a loser essentially, the beast team is there playing the role of karl’s friends from school, graham is the sweetest child, slight angst, fluff, friends to lovers, SOFT KARL, warmth, comfort, romance coded but very light)

listen to: landslide by fleetwood mac, never grow up by taylor swift, growing up by river run north, rainbow by kacey musgraves

Karl helps one of his kids press their palms onto the wall. When they release their palm, pink paint remains, making a sort of leaf to the tree branches painted onto the wall.

“Now write your name,” Karl advises another kid, whose orange paint had already dried.

“G-R-A-H-A-M,” the boy writes out with a large permanent marker. “Can I take a picture? For my mom?”

All the rest of the children begin to shout their agreements, also wanting to bring home a picture for their parents. Karl grabs his yellow Polaroid camera and takes a picture of each handprint.

He keeps all of the pictures in the chest pocket of his denim jacket. “Okay, guys— to the sink! Whoever has the cleanest hands gets to help me pass out snacks!”

“Why are we having snack time so early?” It’s Graham that asks, the little one always eager to be around Karl.

Karl ignores the boy’s paint covered hands poking at his clean jacket, and answers him as politely as he can. “Mr. Jacobs forgot his lesson plans today, so we’re going to watch a movie instead.”

“A movie?” Graham’s eyes widen.

“Yep,” Karl giggles. He crouches down to Graham’s level and whispers, “You wanna pick it?”

“Nature Nut!” Graham cheers almost immediately, causing Karl to wince.

Ah, yes, the wonderful little DVDs of a lonesome man teaching the watcher about bugs and weird types of slugs. Karl actually has the entire collection, and Graham happens to adore them just as much as Karl did when he was a kid.

“Alright, go wash your hands and I’ll get it started.”

It’s a little girl named Hana who cleans her hands the best, so she passes out organic fruit gummies to everyone while Karl puts in the DVD.

While they watch the video, Karl checks his text messages.

There’s one from Chris: “I’ve already got Chandler on the couch. Sorry, man. You can have the floor, but it’s not gonna be comfy :(“

Right. Karl forgot that Chandler lives in the same complex as him. His apartment is probably just as flooded as Karl’s is. Now if the landlord would just answer his calls and help him... maybe this situation wouldn’t be so stressful.

Karl didn’t forget his lesson plans; they’re just submerged in his bedroom with everything else Karl has left lying on his carpet. And maybe it’s his fault for not buying more storage bins, but a studio apartment can only hold so much stuff.

Serves Karl right for doing his lesson plans at home instead of at the school like most of his fellow kindergarten teachers.

He lets out a quiet sigh, careful not to disturb the children. He only has a short list of friends left to ask, and while he doesn’t think they’ll mind him asking, he really hates to put anyone in that position.

Besides, most of his friends have roommates or significant others and Karl doesn’t want to ruin their routine. He’d hate to intrude. And he could always sleep in his car for a few days, but the amount of stuff he had to pack because of the flooding has barred any chance of a good night’s sleep.

The video ends, and Karl gets the kids seated with coloring pages until their parents arrive.

One by one, he I.Ds the parents and tells the kids goodbye, helping them put on their coats and take home whatever library book they picked out earlier.

Finally, there’s only one kid left, and Karl is a bit embarrassed of his hyper-awareness to Graham. It’s not even his fault, really. Graham just has a beautiful mom, who happens to be Karl’s beautiful friend, and sometimes Karl gets eager to see you during pickup time.

Whatever. It’s no big deal.

The kindergartener already has his coat on. His curly brown hair is almost unruly as he continues to work on his coloring sheet.

Karl pulls at the hem of his sage sweater sleeves and wonders if his hair looks okay. Maybe he should invest in a little desk mirror; or maybe that’s vain.

“Hey, Karl! Sorry I’m late!” You rush in, holding on to your leather messenger bag. You fix your glasses before they fall off the bridge of your nose, and Karl is so focused on the movement that he almost forgets about your child.

Until said child is scolding his mother. “Mom! You have to call him Mr. Jacobs! It’s rude to call him Karl!”

“Your mom is an adult,” Karl reminds Graham (as soon as he finds his voice.) “Since she isn’t a student, it’s okay for her to call me Karl.”

Graham pinches his lips together, and then shrugs. “Fine. Mom, we watched Nature Nut today.” He runs up to you and wraps his arm around your middle. “Can we go to the park and look for slugs?”

“Sure,” you giggle. “But we need to get home soon, okay, Bud? I have to make dinner and then we have to clean up the mess we made last night.”

Graham turns to Karl and smiles naughtily, like the trickster he often is. “Mom said I could tear up her papers last night. She said it’s There-pee.”

“Ther-a-py,” you emphasize for the five-year-old.

Karl studies your face, and he can tell that you seem a little more stressed than usual. “Therapy, huh?”

You smile sheepishly. “Well, when your son catches you tearing up old love notes, you have to let him in on the fun, right?”

“You are a team,” Karl acknowledges. He wants to ask more; wants to dig into your heart and extract whatever is hurting you, but your son is standing between the two of you, waiting for him to say goodbye. Karl clears his throat and picks at his sweater again. “Anyways, uh, text me tonight? Let me know you two got home safe. And, I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” you breathe. You smile at him and then take Graham’s hand. “Thanks, Karl. I’ll text you.”

Karl spends the night at a motel down the road. He texts a few of his friends and hopes for good news in the morning, or at least a confirmation from his landlord.

When you text him, a little selfie of you and Graham, holding up what looks like microwaved s’mores, his heart grows fond, and he forgets about his own problems for a moment.

Life has never been very easy for you. From the get-go, you have always been destined to fail, growing up with an absent father and an overworked mother. With a dead-end dream like yours (writing, of all things), it’s no wonder you clung to what little breaths of freedom you had.

He was handsome and bold, with a carefree smile and brown eyes that mirrored the sun. The lead singer of a band, with a voice like chimes. And you fell just as hard as one of your many protagonists. Perhaps the mistake always lay in the fact that you put too much fantasy into reality. You have always romanticized the littlest things, and that comes back to bite you more often than not.

You never expected one: to get pregnant your senior year of high school, and two: have to go through it alone.

Of course, most people you come to love leave eventually. It’s something you have always remembered; something that sticks in the back of your brain like gum to the bottom of your child’s Spider-man skechers.

Graham is the only constant in your life. Though you’ve been blessed with a decent job editing for a webazine company, and you can work from home more often than not, Graham is the real thing that keeps you alive.

He’s the most precious boy, with brown curls and big brown eyes. He favors his father, and though that should deter you, it reminds you of innocent days, and it gives a new meaning to brown eyes. Graham is not his father, and he never was.

Graham certainly got his love of learning from you. Though he likes science more than writing, you adore how eager he is to always get to school. It helps that Karl is his teacher.

Karl’s been your friend since freshman year of highschool, when the two of you both took the same creative writing class the local university offered. Though the two of you had differing end goals, you often studied together and encouraged each other. He was there when you found out you were pregnant, and he was there when you found out you’d be raising your child alone.

Now life comes full circle, and you see him twice a day. You could go out on a limb and say he brightens up most mornings, but you would still give that slot to your son.

Karl is standing at the doorway now, greeting all of his students and helping them take off their book bags and coats. He’s wearing monochrome today: red pants, a red sweater, and red shoes.

Graham lights up almost immediately, and you are thankful today that you decided to dress Graham in his red t-shirt. “Mom! We match!”

“I know,” you grin, squeezing his hand.

Karl glances at Graham, and then you. His cheeks showcase that same pink hue they always do, and while it should clash with his red garments, it doesn’t. “Hey, Karl.”

“Hey,” he grins, cheeks full at the sight of you two.

Graham spreads his arms and waits for Karl to help him take off his jacket. “Do you see that we match, Mr. Jacobs?”

“Yo, that’s awesome, Little Man!” Karl gives Graham a fist bump that seems to appease him, and you wait for Graham to run to his friends before addressing Karl.

“How have you been?”

Karl sighs. He brushes his hair away from his eyes. “Okay. My- uh- my studio apartment flooded so I’m staying at a motel until my landlord can get me estimates on when I can come back home.”

“That sucks,” you frown. “You know, if you need a place to stay, I have a pullout couch in my office. And obviously, Graham wouldn’t mind.”

Karl pales. “Are you serious? I didn’t mean to suggest anything, Like I know you work from home and you need your office.”

“And you’ll be at school until three,” you say. “I’ll work then. C’mon, Karl. I don’t like knowing one of my friends has no place to stay.”

Karl bites his bottom lip and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll drive over after I check out of the motel.”

“Great!” You smile. “I’ll order pizza.”

"Graham, clean your room," you say, struggling to push your desk against your office wall. "We're going to have a guest for a few weeks."

"Mom," Graham whines, "They aren't going to look in my room."

You begin to take the cushions out of the spare couch to start setting up the pull-out bed. "Mr. Jacobs is coming over, Graham. Don't you want to show him your collections?"

Graham's brown eyes grow wide. "Mr. Jacobs? You didn't tell me he was coming!"

"He's going to be staying with us for a little bit, okay? So I need you to be on your best behavior."

“Can I show him my worms?” Graham asks, alluding to the compost bin in the small backyard of your townhouse.

“Yes,” you say, thankful that he isn’t putting up much of a fight toward cleaning. You’re also thankful he isn’t asking any questions, as Graham always seems to have a few at the top of his tongue.

Graham cleans up his room quickly. You know for a fact that he’s just shoved all of his toys under his bed, but it’s enough until the weekend, when you’ll have more time to help him organize.

The little guy hoards rocks like no one’s business. You curse the day Karl decided to teach the kids about geodes.

“Wanna help me make up Mr. Jacobs’s room?” You half-yell, while grabbing spare bedding out of your linen closet.

Graham’s little footsteps are head before he answers, and soon he’s at your hip with a quick, “He can have my Frozen pillowcase!”

You hesitate to tell Graham that his Frozen pillowcase is currently on one of your pillows, but just you can’t give your guest a dirty pillowcase. “That one is in the wash, Buddy. Why don’t we give him your Spider-Man one?”

“So he matches my pajamas!” Graham is easily pleased, and he even takes one of his stuffed bears to add to Karl’s made-up bed. (“So he doesn’t get scared at night.”)

By the time the pizza arrives, Karl is just behind, so you keep Graham busy with a slice of cheese and a glass of diet pepsi (only half of a can, and only because it’s a special occasion) while the two of you bring in Karl’s stuff.

He surprisingly didn’t bring much, and when you ask about it, he grimaces. “My studio is pretty small so a lot of my stuff was on the ground and got mildewed. Other stuff was in bins so I just left it there. I only need clothes and my lesson plans, anyway.”

“Well, here’s the desk and bed. It’s not much, but there’s a lock on the door in case Graham ever gets too inquisitive — bless him — and curtains so the stupidly bright sun won’t wake you too early.”

“Those both sound like personal experiences, Y/n,” Karl teases. He takes off his jacket and throws it on the bed. “Yo! Spider-Man?”

“Graham picked it out,” you say. “He also relinquished one of his bears to keep you safe in the middle of the night. His words, not mine.”

“He’s so cute,” Karl mentions offhandedly. The fondness in his tone takes you back a bit. Not because the phrase isn’t true, it’s just that most people find your son annoying before they find him endearing. The change of tone is nice.

“He is,” you say. “And he’s dying to show you his room after we eat dinner.”

Karl gives you that same lopsided smile he often had in high school. Part of your brain shifts to his personal life, and you wonder why Karl himself isn’t in a romantic relationship. Not that he has to be, but the both of you are getting older, and Karl has always been one to express a fondness for having his own family one day. Maybe he just hasn’t found the right person.

It isn’t until Graham is peacefully in bed — after a very chaotic reading of Goodnight Moon by yours truly, and an argument that Mr. Jacobs cannot, in fact, sleep in the same room as him — that you actually have a chance to show Karl around the house.

“Here’s the guest bathroom. Graham almost always uses the bathroom in my room because he likes looking at the big tub. He will beg you to play with him, but if you’re busy don’t feel guilty telling him no. He knows what no means and he’s good about playing by himself.”

Karl giggles. “Okay. I don’t mind playing with him, though.“

You show him around the kitchen, where you left little spaces for him in the pantry. You show him the garbage bags and the T.V. settings and the list of compostable ingredients. “And also, please come and go as you please. Like, I completely understand that you’re here temporarily and you aren’t a babysitter or anything like that. I don’t expect you to be in charge of Graham any time outside of school.”

Karl blinks. “But if you ever need time away, you can ask me. I don’t mind babysitting.”

“I know,” you smile. “But Graham is my kid. I don’t need time away from him.”

You’re lying. Karl knows it. You’ve been in this single parenting thing for five years and you aren’t about to reach out for help now.

“Anyways, if you have any questions just ring me or ask me,” you say. “I’ve got to get to bed. Goodnight.”

“Thanks, Y/n.”

Karl thinks it’s sweet the way Graham insists on making his own breakfast.

You’re already up when Karl gets out of his (temporary) bedroom with his clothes tucked under his arm. You’re busy arguing with Graham. “You can’t fry your own omelette for the last time.”

Karl quirks an eyebrow at your exasperated face. You look stressed beyond belief, even though the day has just begun.

Karl tosses his clothes back in his room and walks into the kitchen. “Hey, Graham! Do you want to show me your rock collection?”

Graham spins on his sock-clad heels, eyes bright at the thought of seeing his teacher. “Mr. Jacobs! Yes! Let’s go!”

He grabs Karl’s hand with ease, leaving you room to finish making breakfast.

Graham’s room is fairly simple. The small wooden bed is covered in a green quilt, and beneath that, frozen-printed sheets that certainly don’t match. He has a tub of stuffed animals shoved against a small dresser.

Karl gets distracted by the framed picture on top of the dresser. It’s a picture of you and Graham’s father, a few months before you got pregnant. He’s smiling, and you’re holding up a peace sign. It makes Karl feel a bit sad, knowing that Graham’s dad never stayed around to see how wonderful he turned out to be.

Then again, a lot of people in your life left as soon as they found out. In high school, no one wants to be friends with a teenage mother.

Karl reckons that if he had a family like this, he’d never take them for granted.

Graham pulls out a gemstone. It’s a murky green one that Karl has let him take home from class. “Do you remember this, Mr. Jacobs?”

Karl grins. “Yeah, bud. Thanks for keeping it so safe for me.”

Graham beams. He grabs Karl’s hand and pulls him towards his dresser. “Can we match? I want to look like you.”

Karl feels his heart swell. He wants to smother the young boy in affection, but he doesn’t want to cross a line. He’s your friend, sure, but he’s also Graham’s teacher. He can’t coddle Graham more than the other children. He already has a godchild to coddle. “I’m wearing yellow today. Do you have any yellow clothes?”

“Let’s look!” Graham yanks open one of the drawers and begins pulling out the articles of clothing one by one. “No, no, no... Here!” He finds a pair of yellow overalls, folded amongst the mess he made. “I’ll wear these!”

“Let’s clean up first, okay?” Karl grabs the overalls. “So it’s clean when you come home from school.”

Graham, looking like the last thing he’d ever want to do is disappoint Karl, begins to pick up each shirt with obvious intent. He tries to fold them, and does a somewhat decent job, so much so that Karl leaves it, thinking you’ll find it endearing rather than annoying.

He really loves that about you. He likes your patience with Graham. You’re so young, and in reality, he squashed so many early dreams of yours. No matter your lot in life, you never blamed your child. Karl thinks that’s why Graham is so open, so adaptable, so endearing.

He helps Graham get dressed and leaves him in his room so that he, himself, can get ready.

When he emerges from his shower, hair wet and clothed in yellow, he smells something amazing.

He doesn’t want to intrude on your morning with Graham. He already feels too indebted to you already.

��Have an omelet,” you say. Wisps of hair cover your face. You place a plate down in front of him.

Graham is already eating his omelet, slowly, while flipping through a picture book. He sounds out words he recognizes, but stays silent the rest of the time.

Karl takes out his phone and scrolls through his instagram feed just as your own phone begins to ring.

“Shit,” you curse, and then immediately apologize to Graham. You press the red button and tap anxiously on the tabletop.

“Everything okay?” Karl asks.

You run your hands over your hair and let them rest on the back of your neck. “Yeah is just—“

The phone rings again, and this time you pick it up. “What do you want? ... Why would you tell me that? ... Why should I care? ... Please stop contacting me, okay? Goodbye.”

You slam the phone down and leave the room. Karl watches you disappear down the hallway, sniffling.

“Mommy is upset,” Graham says. He looks at Karl, lip quivering. “At me?”

“No, Buddy! Of course not!” Karl reaches over the table to ruffle Graham’s curls. “Never at you.”

“When we tore up paper, she was crying.” Graham fiddles with his book page.

Karl wonders why your ex’s actions are being brought up five years later. Last he heard, you had fully healed from the breakup long before Graham’s first birthday. But now he’s about to be six, and you're suddenly upset?

He’ll have to ask you about it soon.

“Are you ready to go to school, Buddy?”

“Yeah!”

You cradle your face in your hands and try to ease the tears back in. You’ll never get this article proofread and sent if you can’t see the keys.

The door opens, and Graham runs in just in time for you to finish wiping your eyes. “Hey, kiddo! How was school?”

“Mr. Jacobs let us finger paint!” Graham holds up his palm, covered in dried paint, and grins brightly. “Can I have gogurt?”

“Yeah bud. Why don’t you put something on the T.V.? You can have your snack in the living room today.”

“Yes!” Graham takes blueberry gogurt out of the fridge and — after getting you to tear it open — runs into the living room. Sneakers and backpack still on.

Karl trails behind, clutching a messenger bag to his chest. “What’s going on?”

You sigh and close the laptop. The manuscript will have to wait. “Ben called. About a week ago. His girlfriend is pregnant. Called me to tell me he wasn’t going to leave her— like that would heal what he did to me. Then he called this morning to tell me they’re engaged.” You burst into tears then, and you feel so pathetic for doing this in front of your old schoolmate, that you hide your face behind your palms and allow your shoulders to shake. “Why weren’t we enough? Why wasn’t I enough?”

Karl scoots one of the chairs in front of you and sits, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Hey. Look at me.” With gentle hands, he grabs your wrists and pulls them away from your face. “It is not your fault he left.”

“But it has to be me in some way,” you retort. “He must not have loved me. Something, because now he’s going to raise her child after he left mine. Graham deserves a dad.”

Karl places his forehead against yours. The two of you used to do it all the time in school, mostly with immature giggles in the spaces between, but now it’s heavy with intention. “Graham has not felt even a little bit unloved in your care. You are all he needs, okay? You’re amazing.”

You nod, head still pressed to Karl’s. “Yeah. Okay. Sorry for getting too emotional, there.”

“Be as emotional as you want,” Karl says. “I’ll be here to balance you out.”

Your heart stutters at the words, like maybe they mean something more than he’s letting on. Of course it’s stupid to think Karl Jacobs would ever even consider you, but just the knowledge that he cares makes your soul feel a little lighter.

“I’m a mess,” you stutter, bringing your fist up to wipe at your nose.

“Nah,” Karl grins. He runs the pad of his thumb across your cheek and grins. “You’re alright.”

“It’s snowing!” Graham wakes Karl up by jumping on his chest.

Karl sucks in a breath, winded at the sudden weight, and grabs the boy, lifting him off of his chest and onto the mattress. “Hey, Buddy. Let’s not jump on sleeping people, okay?”

“Okay,” Graham says. He’s already lost interest in Karl, now crawling off of the bed to open the blinds. “Come look at the snow!”

“I see!” Karl rubs his tired eyes and checks his watch. “We might have a snow day, Graham.”

“Yes!” Graham pumps his fist into the air. “Let’s go tell mom!”

You’re sitting on your bed, chewing on a red licorice rope and flipping through a fashion magazine. You look up when Karl and Graham enter.

Karl likes seeing you like this: the domesticity of seeing you in the morning, lazy and true. His chest sparks when he thinks this may be one of the only moments he can capture you like this, so he intends to commit the sight to memory.

“Did I hear snow day?” You grin at Karl, childlike wit in your own eyes — the same as your son’s.

“Looks like it.” Karl rolls up the sleeves of the sweater he slept in. “You want pancakes? I make some mean chocolate chip pancakes.”

You shift your gaze away from his arms and clear your throat. “Uh, yeah. Just let me get dressed and I’ll help—“

“No need,” Karl insists. “Enjoy your quiet time. Graham and I will make the most delicious pancakes you’ve ever tasted.”

“With lots of chocolate chips!” Graham shouts.

You give him a pointed look. “But not too many.”

Graham huffs. “But not too many,” he repeats.

Momentary splashes sound from your bathroom, followed by Graham screaming “It’s a dragon! Run for cover!”

Karl giggles from his place on the couch. He’s got mushroom-patterned socks on, and he’s tucked up into the cushions, nursing a can of Monster. “How does he still have so much energy?”

You sigh and pull your beanie down over your forehead. “You’d think a snow day would tire him out. Thanks for constantly carrying him up the hill, by the way. I know you’re a teacher, but sometimes I forget how good you are with kids.”

“I do have a godson,” Karl reminds you.

“But Tucker is a baby,” you say. You only know the baby’s name because of Karl’s constant snap stories about him.

“Most babies and kids want the same thing. Affection and attention.” Karl scoots over to the edge of the couch and pats the cushion.

You sit next to him. “I guess that’s true. You’re really good with Graham. He��s not this open to other adults.”

Karl is clearly blushing now; you can see his pink cheeks even in the light of the television. “He’s great in class, always helping the other kids.”

“He wants to impress you,” you say. You pop open a can of orange soda and take a sip. “He thinks you’re just the coolest guy.”

Karl laughs and shakes his head. “Didn’t you hear, Y/n? I’m handsome and cool.”

“Oh, of course,” you nudge his shin with our own sock-clad foot. “How could I forget? Mr. Ladies Man in high school.”

This makes Karl blush even harder, because he most certainly was not a ladies man in high school. In fact, he was a nerd in all senses of the word, part of the debate club with a few other boys. He had a few dates here and there, but nothing ever stuck.

“Shut up,” he mumbles. “My time is gonna come.”

“Hasn’t it already?” you ask before you can really process your own words. But of course he knows that he’s grown into his face, right?

Karl is positively handsome, eyes bright and lashes long. He’s so warm and comforting to you. He must be just as comforting to everyone else.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re handsome, Karl,” you say plainly.

“You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you say. “Why would I lie?”

Karl opens his mouth, perhaps to call you out. To tell you you’ve been too honest, but he’s interrupted by your son.

“Mom! I’m ready to get out now!”

“I should go,” you say, still looking at his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says. His sweater has small spots on the shoulders where snow has fallen and since melted. He shivers.

“You should take a shower. You’ll catch a cold.”

“Okay,” he whispers. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

Chandler comes over the following Saturday night to hang out with Karl, and you’re surprised at how much he truly hasn’t changed since high school.

He’s still got infamously perfect eyebrows, and his voice is still monotonous despite its humor. “Nice place.” He raises his brows as he looks around.

“Who are you?” Graham is sitting at the kitchen table, watching Minecraft playthroughs (kid-friendly ones you’ve watched through yourself) on your phone to entertain himself while you clean.

“I’m Chandler, Karl’s friend.”

“This is Mr. Jacob’s friend from school,” you say, detailing your words so they’re easier for your son to digest.

Graham stares at him for a moment, not quite judging but not quite accepting either. “Okay. Do you want to see my rock collection?”

Chandler looks genuinely excited, and accepts before you can come up with an excuse for him. Graham tells Chandler to stay in the kitchen while he grabs all of his rocks.

“How have you been?” you ask the taller man. “Like, with the flooding and everything?”

“Well, I’m on a couch at Chris’, which is good since he doesn’t charge rent. But that means I’m near Tucker, and that baby has some lungs.”

You laugh. “I remember when Graham was a baby. I was so young, and my mom told me it was my responsibility to wake up and take care of him whenever he cried in the middle of the night. I was so pissed at her for making me do that, but those were some of the best nights to bond with him.” You realize you’re ranting and shake your head. “Whatever. Baby screams are loud as hell.”

“You can say that again. I’ve been talking to my friend Jimmy about taking his spare room and paying rent. I dunno how many more sleepless nights I can take.”

“Why would you need to pay rent if you’re just crashing?” You wipe down the kitchen table to keep yourself busy.

“Didn’t Karl tell you? Our landlord is in heaps of trouble because the pipes weren’t up to code and that’s why they busted. The damage is basically too expensive to fix, so we’ve got to find new places.”

You stop cleaning. “Karl didn’t tell me that.”

“Oh.” Chandler scratches his brow. “He probably didn’t want to worry you. He feels really bad that he’s stayed with you this long.”

“It’s only been a month or so,” you counter. “Besides, Karl’s a great housemate. He cleans and keeps Graham occupied. Plus, now I have someone to watch corny game shows with.”

Chandler grins. “Oh. Okay, I get it.”

“Get what?” Karl, finally out of the shower, steps into the kitchen and immediately tackles Chandler in an energized hug.

“Nothing!” Chandler’s voice cracks

You shoot Chandler a weird look, and change the subject. “Where are you guys going?”

“To play video games at Jimmy’s.” Karl says, and the thrill in his voice makes you think of high school. Of the debate team bus rounding the corner. Of you standing there, waiting to congratulate him with a big hug and a frosty from Wendy’s.

You miss it. “Have fun, okay? I’m probably going to tuck in as soon as Graham does, so just let yourself in.”

“You’re leaving?” Graham comes in, and his arms are filled with smooth and rough stones and gems he’s both found by himself and bought at random general stores while traveling.

“Not before I see your rocks!” Chandler says with so much enthusiasm, you think he’s telling the truth.

Graham giggles and drops the rocks onto the ground. Of course, he wants your guest to sit on the floor and count rocks. You’re almost embarrassed.

“ ‘ Okay, Y/n?” Karl laughs at your expression. Then he places his arm on your shoulder, thumbs the skin of your upper arm.

And once again, it’s high school. It’s senior year graduation and Karl is the only one who congratulates you. It’s his comforting touch, him coming over in the middle of the night after you texted him a picture of your first sonogram. It’s that same comforting touch. That little “I’m here,” and it melts you on the inside, leaves you in a shell of an eighteen girl again. Scared, and worried, and a little less alone.

“Yeah,” you manage. “I’m okay.”

The television plays Cartoon Network reruns on a low hum. Karl is curled up in a blanket, nursing a bottle of water and thinking over Chandler’s words.

You’ve liked her since high school, dude.

Which is a complete lie. Seriously, Karl didn’t have a crush on you in high school. He would know if he had a crush on his best friend. You’ve been his friend since freshman year, and that’s all you’ve ever been.

Now in college, it was different. In college, Karl was alone in a dorm with Chris, and you were one of the only people from high school he stayed in contact with. In college, he would bring you your favorite snacks and drinks, and other things you would forget to buy because you were a part-time student and a full-time mom. In college, you would pull all-nighters with him, working on your exams while Graham was asleep, then using energy drinks to get through the next day.

Karl even remembers the time your mom caught the three of you fast asleep on your rug, with unopened monster cans and an empty milk bottle beside you.

Throughout your entire pregnancy he was warned not to stay friends with the pregnant girl — it’d be too much for him, he wouldn’t want to become the new father, and all kinds of other stuff people would mumble to him when you weren’t around.

But you never expected him to be anything other than your friend. You never asked him for the help he gave — though you thanked him always — and you never once assumed he’d take the role of Graham’s dad.

And now… now he finds himself wishing you would.

“Mr. Jacobs?” Graham creeps up without him even realizing.

Karl jumps, sets his water — and thoughts — aside. “Hey, Bud. It’s really late. What are you doing up?”

Graham sniffs, and Karl realizes that the boy is crying. “I had a nightmare.”

Karl holds out his arms before he can think, and lets the five-year-old crawl into his lap. He wraps them both in his blanket and turns the television up just a little more. “Was it scary?”

“You left.” Graham says, voice less watery, like he doesn’t know the weight of his words. He’s focused on the rerun of Adventure Time that’s playing. He’s not even remotely interested in his nightmare now, with his tears dried up, and his eyes drooping back towards slumber.

“I’m going to leave one day,” Karl says, because he thinks it’s important that Graham knows.

“You should stay with me and Mom,” Graham says. He yawns. “We like you so much!”

Karl’s heart stutters. He tries not to think about it.

When Graham’s bed is empty the next morning, you freak out. He’s always in his room in the morning. Even if he wakes up before you, he stays in and plays with his toys.

You’ve already got your phone out, and your mother’s number called, when you walk into the living room.

Relief floods your system. Karl and Graham are asleep on the couch, snuggled up serenely like they didn’t just cause you to have a premature heart attack.

You hang up before the call to your mom can go through and stand there, watching the two boys sleep. Graham has both his arms wrapped around Karl’s forearm. It’s such a sweet picture that you take out your phone and snap one.

The flash is on.

Karl scrunches his nose and winces. “What the–”

“Sorry!” You whisper. “You both looked so cute, I couldn’t help it.”

Karl smiles, still sleepy, and finally opens his eyes. He peers at you, stormy green under fluttering lashes and you’re almost intimidated into looking away. “He had a nightmare.”

“Oh?”

“About me leaving.”

“Oh.” You frown. “I’m really sorry about that. I keep telling him that you’re moving out soon, but I don’t think he fully understands.”

Graham stirs. You reach down and pick him up. Your knuckles brush across Karl’s warm, sweater-clad chest and you suddenly wish you could cuddle with him, too. You shake the thoughts away and focus on your drowsy son. “You’re staying at Grandma's for a few days, remember?”

Graham rubs his eyes and perks up. “And I’ll see her cat?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “But we’ve got to get you dressed because she’s coming in a few minutes.”

“Karl Jacobs!” Your mom’s voice embarrassingly rings through the apartment, and you realize Karl has taken it upon himself to open the door. “Y/n told me she had a temporary roommate but I never thought she would finally ask you!”

“Oh my gosh…” you mumble, buckling Graham’s overalls and hauling him up into your arms. “Mom! His apartment flooded so he’s staying here. Don’t be weird about it.”

“But he’s so handsome,” your mom coos. You’re concerned she might reach forward and pinch Karl’s already ruddy cheeks.

“Thanks,” Karl laughs. “But she’s right, I’m just squatting until I can find a new place.”

Your mom harrumphs. “Well, I don’t see why you can’t stay here forever. Y/n doesn’t even use that office room. And even if she did, the two of you could just share a room.”

“Mom!” You plunk Graham into her hands and grab his overnight bag. “You have to leave.”

“Did I say something wrong?” She sounds worried, but there’s an undisclosed mirth in her eyes that makes you think of your freshman year, when you did have a crush on Karl.

“You said everything wrong,” you say, kindly pushing her out. “Have a good time, Graham. I love you! As always, Mom, call if you need me to come get him.”

“Yeah, right!” She yells over her shoulder. Graham is already giggling, so you close the door with confidence.

You turn back to your roommate. “I’m sorry about that, Karl.”

“It’s fine.” He smiles, but it’s reserved. “But speaking of me finding a place… I know Chandler told you that I can’t go back to my own apartment. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You want to say “You can stay here as long as you want, and long as you’ll let me keep you,” but that would reveal too much, and you don’t want to lose the one good friend you have.

“And I was thinking I should move out soon anyway.” Karl pulls his sweater sleeves until they cover his hands. He’s hiding. He’s shielding himself the same way he did in junior year, when he got turned down by his crush to go to the prom. “I don’t think it’s good for Graham to get this attached to me if I’m just going to leave.”

“Oh,” Your sleeves are too short, but you want to shield yourself too. “Yeah, that’s… that’s probably a good idea.”

Karl stands there for a beat, like he’s waiting for you to say something more. Like he hasn’t just taken your heart and pushed it aside. Like this hurts a lot less than it actually does.

But any word out of your mouth would be tearful. It would be honest. It would ruin everything. “I’m going to go on a run.”

There’s a cricket outside that won’t stop chirping against your window. You blame it for your insomnia, choosing to ignore the anxiety of eventually losing Karl. It feels so horribly childish, since you’ll see him when you drop Graham off at school. And you’ll see him whenever the two of you go out for coffee on weekends.

But you won’t see him in the kitchen, reaching for the pancake mix so his shirt rises up and you can see the dimples in his back. You won’t see him humming along to the radio while he works on his lesson plans. You won’t feel his warmth when the two of you stay awake, nursing spiked lemonade and giggling at the commentary videos you find on YouTube.

He’ll just be Karl again. He won’t be home anymore.

Startled by the realization, you get out of your covers and rush to your door.

It opens before you can even reach for the doorknob, and there’s Karl in his pajamas, biting his lip and avoiding your eyes.

“I don’t want you to leave,” you say, just as Karl confesses,

“I love you.”

You open your arms and he dives in, face pressed into the space where your neck meets your shoulder. Warmth envelopes you and the scent of pine fills your nose.

Karl is timeless. Youthful glory and childish pride. He’s a pinch on the side and a push on the swings. Like a rock that actually skips on the first try. Like shoes that you can slip on when they’re still tied. And he’s here, in your arms, squeezing you like you’re something valuable enough to lose. He’s confessing love like you aren’t the worst possible candidate for his heart.

“I can’t offer you much,” you start, but Karl bumps his forehead against yours, boyish and playful — football fields and bright red lockers and secret notes on bathroom walls.

“I’ve known you for years, Y/n,” Karl’s voice is a low rumble. Green grass eyes blinking at you like you’re something to second glance at. “I know what I’m getting into. I want you. I want Graham. I want everything this is, and everything we’ve been for the past month. I don’t want this to end.”

You close your eyes, because his are too honest. He’s open and vulnerable and gentle — a child on the first day of school, ready to make friends. You take a deep breath, try to remember what you were like on your first day. Rosy cheeks and shy glances. Knobby knees and a trusting heart. You reach out for whoever you once were — the Y/n with a heart open and willing to be loved. “I don’t want this to end either. I’m in love with you, Karl.”

His grin lights up your world in its entirety. Gold flecks in emerald green disappear as he smiles, too thrilled to keep his eyes open. And when he kisses you, warm lips against cold ones, you feel like a puzzle has just slotted into place.

It would only make sense that you would grow to love the boy you grew up with.

#karl jacobs fluff #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs fanfic #mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt fluff #pixiecap//

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positivityfortoday · 4 years ago

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☀ PositivityForToday’s 10K Celebration ☀

There are SO many things worth living for and reasons to smile and be happy! With the help of my lovely followers/friends, I have compiled a list of 1,000 things that make people happy, for my 10,000 amazing followers! Hopefully, this list is able to help you, make you feel better, or give you a reason to smile today!

☀ 1,000 Happy Things ☀

Seeing cows while driving

Moss on really old fallen trees

Seeing a lil baby you don't know in public, and they smile at you!!!

Parents doing their kids hair or just people doing someone they care about’s hair

Really ragged old and well-loved stuffed animals

When the dandelions start blooming

Spring blossom

Daffodils

Bluebells

Sharks

When you're sitting outside your house or something and people passing by wave and say hi

That feeling in the summer when you have your window open and you're listening to your favorite music

When someone does a hobby just because they enjoy it even if they aren't the best at it

Comfort shows and books

People speaking their native languages

When my brother gets something to eat and always gets me something he knows I like

When I finish a crossword

When I see something that reminds me of someone I care about

Paintings

My best friend (I love her so much shhhh don't tell her)

My dog! I love him

My little sisters! Adorable, creative, and very witty. I love them

Music! I get the happy shaky feelings and just,,, y e a h/listening to songs

Singing! Especially for band practice!

Sunlight beams in the morning

The moon

Eagles

That feeling when you’re with friends and you’re all laughing so loudly, and you just feel complete

Talking to my favorite people/talking to my best friend

Sunrises and sunsets

Seeing the stars

Cats

Butterflies/Moths

Snails

Warm sunshine

Purple gel pens

Hugs

My children

Sunny days

Beautiful views

Spending time with my family and friends

Playing badminton

Cycling

Playing with little kids

Playing with dogs

Whales

Animals doing daft things

Talks and walks with my son

Morning breakfast and coffee

A good spicy lunch

Laying in my bed at night and just checking on current affairs and news

My boyfriend

My friends

Art

Owls

Minecraft

Voice acting

Petting my dog

Smelling Flowers

Feeling a cold thing when I’m warm or a warm thing when I’m cold

Giving and getting kisses

Random texts from friends

Coffee flavored chocolate

Singing

Moths with big white wings

Underdone scrambled eggs

A rainy night

Bubbles

That first warm day of spring

Going on hikes

Being outdoors

Candy

Chocolate

The smell of playdoh

Taking photos

Getting new clothing

Candles

Birdwatching

Going on picnics

Writing poetry

Reading books

The holidays

Making people smile/laugh

Coffee

A nice warm blanket

Eating ice cream

Snow globes

Lightning bugs

Flowers after the snow melts

The smell of rain

Sitting on the steps early in the morning

Being the first to wake up

The feeling I get after running

The comfort of a favorite shirt

My girlfriend

Family

Random acts of kindness

Babies

When I play with my dog by pretending to run at her and she goes crazy with excitement

My cat

Rain

Baking

Piano (playing or listening)

Small flowers

Flowy skirts/dresses

Wholesome romances

Hearing a song for the first time and loving it immediately

Playing my flute

Horses

Listening to vinyls on a record player

When someone remembers a little detail about you

Painting my nails

Doing yoga

Doing exercise

Beating a personal record

Rainbows

Making crafts

Taking a shower after a long day

Going to the zoo

Going on vacation

Being at the beach or near water

Watching Netflix

Going to the movie theatre

Watching a live play at a theatre

Learning something new

Teaching someone how to do something

Toasting marshmallows and eating S’mores

Cupcakes

Seeing a shooting star

Taking a nap

When someone compliments me

Decorating my room

Picnics

My favorite band

My favorite celebrities

My favorite actors

Setting a new goal

Collecting rocks

Putting on fresh clean sheets

Seeing Christmas lights

Listening to birds chirping

Giraffes

Camping

Sitting by a bonfire

Eating mashed potatoes

Bullet journaling

Driving in the car with the windows down

Dancing

Looking at pretty pictures

Concerts

Funny jokes/puns/memes

Fireworks

Sparklers

Pretty clouds

My favorite shoes

Getting new art supplies

Making photo edits

Making gifts for my friends and family

Getting gifts from people

Balloons

Succulents

Playing an instrument

Drinking a nice cup of tea

Iced tea on a summer day

Eating fresh fruit

Getting my hair braided

Eating at a restaurant

Being on a boat

Swimming

Making new friends

Finding an animal in nature

Pumpkins and pumpkin patches

Carving pumpkins

Autumn and all the beautiful colors

Acting for theatre

Making video edits

Wearing a costume for Halloween

Dressing fancy

Finding four leaf clovers

Pressing flowers

Scrap booking

Handwritten letters

Stickers

Hummingbirds

Elephants

Eating breakfast

Gardens

Inspirational quotes

Wearing my favorite necklace

Baby animals

Little streams and ponds

Foxes

Sun shining through trees

When it’s foggy out and you can see dew drops on plants and spider webs

Being on a swing

Finally accomplishing a goal you’ve been working on

When a new season of your favorite show comes out

Doing my makeup

Cleaning and organizing

Daydreaming

Taking a bath

Christmas

Watching funny videos

Wearing sweaters and hoodies

Fuzzy socks

Helping people

Little figurines and objects

Popcorn

Brownies

Looking out the window

Wolves

Opening a window for fresh air

The smell of coffee

Watching YouTube videos

Getting a haircut

Seeing a deer in the woods

Watching birds fly

Finding shapes and objects in the clouds

The smell of fresh laundry

When someone tells me something reminded them of me

Stepping on crunchy leaves

Animal crossing

My switch

Softball/baseball

Basketball

Soccer

Seeing cool cars/old cars

Rollerblading

Drawing with chalk on a sidewalk

Going to bed early

Stargazing

Making progress

Checking things off my to-do list

Taking Polaroid pictures

Going for walks

Jogging

Going to the library

Starting a new book

Finishing a good book

Playing board games

Koalas

Slippers

Big trees

Sunlight coming through the windows

Waking up on Christmas morning

Getting book, song, movie, etc. recommendations from my friends

Making music playlists

Finally receiving packages I ordered in the mail

Baking desserts

When my favorite song comes on

When people make playlists for each other

Finding new characters to ship

Having free time

Sticky notes

Sunbathing

Traveling

Peace and quietness

Alone time

Meeting my step/exercise goal for the day

The people who love me

Soup

Coloring books

Getting into bed after a long day

Pillows

Fandoms

How unique and different everyone is

Getting a lot of work done

Looking forward to my future dream job

Playing video games

Being on Tumblr

Taking time for myself

Practicing self-care

Face masks

Finding money you forgot about

Holding hands

The smell of apple pie

Starting a new tv show

Getting letters in the mail

When the seasons change

Summer

Mugs and teacups

Smoothies

Breakfast food

Disney

Going into the woods/forest

Trying new creative outlets

The smell of sunscreen

Eating the food you’ve been craving

Knowing and feeling that people care

Telling a good story

Laughing so hard can’t stop and your stomach hurts

Late summer nights

Late night drives

Sparkles

Glitter

Listening to people I love talk about their favorite things and what they’re passionate about

Listening to podcasts

Turning up the volume of my music

Putting my headphones in

Blasting my favorite songs through my speaker

People accepting and supporting others for who they truly are

Wearing something cozy

Soft light

Love

Warm weather

A well-rested night

Waking up in the morning and feeling refreshed

Knowing that every day is a fresh start

Well written characters

A book I can get lost in

Sloths

My parents

My siblings

My grandparents

The feeling of sand beneath your feet

Heated blankets

Bagels

Toast

Getting something for free

Samples

Constellations

Mason jars

Practicing a new skill

Finding a new hobby

Lazy weekends

Mac n cheese

French fries

Having deep conversations with my best friend

New jeans

Going to IKEA

Skirts

Dresses

Doodling

When other people are happy (especially people I know and love)

Marching band

Sleeping in

Having the day off

Getting new books

Playing guitar

Playing ukulele

Random compliments

A change of scenery

Cuddling

Waking before the sun is up

Reading old letters

Zebras

Exploring

Building Lego sets

Using photoshop to make edits

Journaling

Walking along the seafront and breathing in time with the waves

A good rom-com or nostalgic show

Writing lists

Pinterest boards

Looking back at my accomplishments

Talking on the phone with a friend or family member

Wrapping presents

A blue sky

Loving someone

Waterfalls

Washi tape

Penguins

Donuts

The color yellow

Sleepovers

Cooking dinner

Kind gestures

Trust

Inside jokes

Songs that make you feel nostalgic

Seeing other people’s art

Comfy clothes

Wearing pajamas

Calligraphy

When someone calls you by your nickname

Going to Target

The first sunburn of the summer

Ramen noodles

Chinese food

Thrift shopping

Flower fields

Flowers growing in random places, like through a crack in the sidewalk

Writing

Sparkly snowflakes

When it snows on Christmas

Mixing paint colors together

Perfectly shaven legs

Puddles

The color red

Thunderstorms

The smell of flowers

The ocean

Adult sized onesies

Driving a golf cart

Fairytales

Cartoons

The color blue

Pasta

AO3

Crickets chirping

Seeing everyone’s houses decorated for the holidays, especially Christmas

Other people sharing what makes them happy

Monkeys

Being understood

When someone texts to make sure I got home safely

Iced coffee

Becoming better at communicating with others

Seeing a friend for the first time in a while

Good morning and good night texts

Drinking a cold glass of water

Deep conversations in the middle of the night

Collecting sea shells

Building blanket forts

Tan lines

Being under lots of blankets

Making better health and money choices

Getting chills from a song even after hearing it countless times

Liking how I look

Hot chocolate

Finding new music

Buying cute things

Wearing an outfit I really like

When someone tells you how glad they are to be your friend

Gardening

Watching raindrops race down a window

Trying new food

Finding exactly what I was looking for

Planning my future

Finding a song that perfectly fits my mood or describes how I’m feeling

Writing little notes to people

When someone tells me I did something good

Eating ice cream on a hot day

Making friends with animals

Going to football games

Seeing people genuinely interested in something

Snow days

The last day of school

Winter break

Spring break

Thanksgiving

New Year’s Eve

Turtles

Sitting outside on a cool summer day

Watching rain

Watching the ocean waves come in

Netflix binges

A new movie release I really want to watch

Driving with a window down for the first time in the spring

Taking a cruise

Giving helpful advice

Getting helpful advice

Doing a favor for someone who needs it

Someone referencing one of my fandoms or something I love out of no where

Learning and knowing stuff

Doing something physically challenging or scary

Listening to my bedroom fan while I fall asleep

Coming up with a new creative idea

Finding something I wanted at the store on sale for a good deal

Finishing all my assignments on time or even early

Hugging my dog

Taking my dog for a walk

Teaching my dog a new trick

When strangers stop to say hi to my dog

Listening to audiobooks

The weekend

Finding a new flavor of chapstick

Drinking Kool-Aid, it makes me feel so nostalgic

Watching nature shows on a weekend morning

Watching cartoon shows on a Sunday morning

A good TV show, most likely something I've watched before because that way I know it ends well

A good, delicious comfort meal on a Friday night by myself

A café in the city centre at noon when it's not filled with the morning rush or afternoon coffee breakers

The stars from my childhood bedroom because they're the brightest here

Listening to my favorite playlist really loud on a long road trip and singing to myself loudly in my car

Having an entire day to myself without interruptions from anyone

Opening the curtains first thing in the morning

A new jacket

Going to the cinema on a first release day because it's always super exciting and full of people anxious to see a movie they've been waiting for forever

Listening to live music

Riding roller coasters

Going to amusement parks

Lizards

Seahorses

Starfish

Eating fair food

Feeling an instrument vibrate when you’re playing it

Hearing my dog snore

When my dog dreams in his sleep

Wearing a new piece of clothing for the first time

Feeling the sun on you

Eyes in the sunlight

Seeing city lights

Singing in the shower at the top of my lungs

Looking at someone and them knowing exactly what they’re going to say

Laughing till you cry

Being under a blanket

Going to craft stores

Watching boats

The idea of traveling the world

When my dogs let me lay my head on them

Listening to an old song and having it bring back memories

Candy corn

Crazy socks

Quotes

Fall and the leaves changing color and the crisp feeling in the air

Making snowmen

Making gingerbread houses for Christmas

Making videos with family

Burning a candle

Booping a dog’s nose

Getting letters/notes from people; writing them

Snow globes

Dr. Pepper

Doc martens

Fortune cookies

Potatoes

Easter

Finishing something

Skipping rocks

Warm rain

When someone opens up to you

Finding the right words to say exactly what you wanted

Animal footprints

Eating outside

Fairy lights

The smell of a hotel

Windows

Meeting a new dog

Dolphins

Getting magazines in the mail

Being in the woods as the sun starts to rise and the animals wake up

Warm days

Adirondack chairs

A warm breeze

Clothes and blankets hanging outside to dry

Feeding birds

Aquariums

The color green

Tie dying things

Going to art museums

Going to science museums

New albums from my favorite artists

Seeing moss in nature

Finding cute little mushrooms

When a dog wags its tail a bunch and is excited to see me

Playing fetch with my dog

Obsessing over something and having someone to talk about it with

Going on a walk with my best friend and talking about life

Looking at old pictures and reminiscing on good memories

Reading a book that's so good your brain wants to read faster than it can

Laughing with friends about the weirdest things

Being appreciated for doing small things you wouldn't even have thought about yourself because it's something you *just do*

Being creative

Watching animals

A story I can't put down

Stretching

The moment when you listen to a new song/album by your favourite artist

When you're at a concert and anticipating the moment before the band comes out

When at a concert and they play your favourite song live

The moment when someone compliments your outfit

When you see someone wearing merch of something you like

Seeing the sunrise/sunset

Watching the sun rise out of the water or sink down into it as it’s setting

This ecstatic feeling in general when you're just living in the moment with people who love something as much as you do

Hugging my cat and smelling his fur

Listening to my music by myself and singing to it

Making edits I’m really proud of

Losing hours in a good book or fanfiction

Writing sentences that I actually like

My siblings and my parents when they're being chill and funny

Watching my favorite tv shows and movies and yelling about them into the void

Finding a new good song

Fresh out of the shower + fresh clean sheets feeling when you go to bed

When I come downstairs in the morning and my dog greets me right at the bottom step with her lil’ tail wagging

Knowing that if I ever needed someone to chat with, someone would be there to lend an ear

Tigers

Lions

When you shuffle your music and the exact song you want to hear plays

When all my family is around the outdoor fire on a summer’s evening

When my nieces and nephews give me squishy kid hugs

Being home alone and being able to cook or bake in the kitchen without disruption

Driving around with a friend in the evenings and just belting our favorite songs

Seaside walks

Disney World

Seeing live theatre

The sun shining on leaves and stone buildings

Dancing when I'm alone

Color-coordinating my outfit

Floating on my back in the sea

The smell of summer nights

The smell of winter mornings

Colorful things/environments

Bunnies

Walking along lakes/rivers/the sea

Spending time in nature

Taking care of my plants

Giving affection to my loved ones

Listening to other people's stories

Reading about people I've never met before or places I've never visited before (especially if they are now just a part of history)

Embroidering

Pandas

Swimming in a river or the sea

Stargazing (my favorite moments usually happen an hour before sunrise)

White-caged-bird

Feeling the breeze when I spin and my heartbeat when I dance for an hour at a time

All the wonderful smells of flowers and colours that nature has to offer

Sharing good laughter with someone

Feeling like I belong

Travelling and discovering new customs of different cultures

Hiking or foraging

That feeling when I'm approaching the end of a really good book and I let myself be engulfed by the fact that it's a unique experience, that I'll never experience as the first time again

Observing my local fauna

Petting and taking care of an animal (double the joy if it is friendly with strangers)

Drinking a good cup of honey tea

Finding a perfume that suits me

Eating something sweet

Enjoying a meal with others

Cat paws tapping on the floor

Dipping a biscuit into tea

Trying to catch leaves falling from the tree

Having sunlight hit your face when you’re napping

Objects that cast a rainbow when the sun shines through them

Seeing patterned shadows

Ambient mood lighting

Sleeping

Wearing jewelry

Cheese

Playing chess

Fresh air

Going somewhere new

My Mom’s cooking

Being inspired

When someone holding your hand rubs their thumb lovingly in circles

Picking strawberries

Otters

Painting the walls of my room

Wind chimes

Seeing that your favorite people are active online

Finally understanding something you were struggling with

The excitement you get when someone reblogs your writing or art

Getting a new notebook or journal

Appreciation

Validation

When someone tells you they love you and mean it

The smell of freshly baked bread

When my dog falls asleep on me

Making new online friends

Found family

Finishing cleaning my room

When someone lays their head on your shoulder

Doing something right on the first try

Finally sitting down after standing for a long time

Getting goosebumps from hearing or seeing something you love

Seeing a gorgeous view

Loving someone and them loving you back

Freshly baked gooey cookies

When a song comes on and everyone starts singing

When I’m out for a run and it’s hot and it starts raining. Nothing makes me feel more like a human than getting caught in the rain on a run

Swimming in the ocean

When people are talking about something they really love and get carried away trying to explain it all to you

Puppies

Being in the middle of nowhere and actually getting to see the whole sky of stars that you never get to see in a city

Finding people that love the same things you do

When something silly reminds you of someone you love; like every time I see an orange and green gummy worm I think of my sister

When you’re hugging someone and they squeeze you a little bit before they let go

Weather where you can leave all the windows open in your house

Trampolines

Driving with no destination in mind

Falling asleep to the sound of rain

Hearing other people laugh

Laughing only because you hear someone else laugh and it's just so contagious

The first snowfall of the year

Disney movies

Listening to someone tell stories and they have like 15 side stories in between the main one

Romantic movies

Bubble baths

Smiling between kisses

Wearing sweatpants

A clean house

Pizza

My computer

Cheesy pickup lines

When people tell me they miss me

Cool spring mornings after a storm

My job

Butterflies

New shoes

Oversized shoes

Caramel apples

Volunteering

Meditating

Running my blog

Finding sea glass at the beach

Getting my nails done

Planning vacation

Hot cider

Telling people I love them

Writing in my gratitude journal

Eating homegrown vegetables, fruit, and herbs

Remembering a good dream I had

Happy endings

Colored pens

Decorating for the holidays

Finishing a really good tv show

Leopards

Summer rain

Thunderstorms where I can just open my window to the full extent and just watch and listen

Calls with my best friend

Seeing a meme and sending it to my friends

Getting an email from AO3

That moment when you get an idea for creating something

Walking barefoot on the grass

Sending thank you notes

Writing events I’m looking forward to on my calendar

Dippin' Dots

Spicy food

Seeing a full moon

Eating cookie dough

Eating seasonal food

Bubble wrap

Going to the car wash and getting rainbow soap

Dark chocolate

Soft blankets

Weighted blankets

Soft drinks with crushed ice

When I get an unexpected phone call from someone I love

Wearing flip flops

Longer daylight hours

Having a BBQ

Frosting cookies

Making cupcakes in the microwave

Watching the Hallmark channel during the holidays

Taking selfies or photos with people I love

Putting on lotion

The smell of a baby’s head

The Office

Online shopping

The smell of freshly cut grass

Surprising my family or friends

Looking at the clock when it’s 11:11

Being productive

Quilts

Doing good on an exam

Someone doing a favor for me (especially when I didn’t ask)

Eating pancakes with syrup

Origami

Sprinkles

Confetti

Waving at people

Giving high fives

Complicated Handshakes between you and your best friend

Naps/feeling well-rested

Eating one of my favorite foods

Hearing good news from/about a friend or family member

Looking at nature (these days it's seeing squirrels in my neighbour's garden and looking at my plants and trees)

When make someone happy or feel like I made a difference (including a satisfied client)

Success (good grades, a gifset that does well)

Hugs from my mom

Learning new things

Chatting with my friends because they’re all amazing people

Group watches of my favorite tv show or movie

That feeling when the house has just been cleaned/when I’m freshly showered

Making jokes/laughing with people

Reading fluffy fanfics

Driving on the road to a destination far away, I love the trip as much as (if not more than) arriving at the actual place

Reading affirmations

Green tea

Getting breakfast or lunch from a nice restaurant

Learning about topics that won’t benefit me; like Chinese history, geography, ancient flora and fauna, etc. just things that I find cool

The jokes my girlfriend makes, especially when they’re the same ones she always makes

Stories from the past! Stories from history from people who actually lived through it

Stories in general, just hearing the life experiences of people in completely different positions from me. I love hearing people’s stories

Drawing intricate things, like old buildings, landscapes, and plants

Cooking a nice meal

Grocery shopping and farmers markets especially

My cat! All of her weird little habits too, like how she stands in front of my feet so I’ll push her where she wants to go

Botanical gardens

State parks

Museums

Art galleries

Listening to stories my grandparents tell

When people tell me about their life goals and dreams

Being surrounded by the people I love

Living the best life I can

Partying hard the night away

Daydreaming

Sunflowers always make me smile

Warm tea

Big fluffy clouds in a blue sky

Friendly babies

Hearing a past favorite song

Singing karaoke

Biking riding

Helping others

Chocolate milk

Sweets and fruits

Having fun doing things I love

Dragons

Video games

My favorite things

Writing

Affection

Exercising

Being on Tumblr

Looking at flowers and plants

Playing with my cats

Chatting with my friends (at the moment it’s through zoom, of course)

Finding new ways to decorate my room

Window shopping

Spending time with my boyfriend

Wearing my favorite outfit/accessory

Eating something delicious

The cool side of my pillow

Tears of joy

Woodpeckers

Reading poems

Hugging trees

Tree houses

Airstreams/campers

Playing frisbee

Making sculptures

Puppy ears

The first day of spring

The first day of summer

Sending silly photos to my friends

Building sand castles

Winning prizes at the fair or arcade

Marbles

Cacti

Scrolling through my phone

Writing fanfiction

Seeing someone you haven't seen for a really long time

Putting together collages

Printing out photos I love

DIY projects

Sewing

Crocheting

Listening to steel drums

Haunted houses

Going through a corn maze

Picking fresh fruit or vegetables

Bubble tea

Starbucks

Dunkin donuts

Disneyland

Disney Princesses

Climbing trees

Finishing errands

Rewatching my favorite episodes

Scrunchies

Milkshakes

Ice cream blizzards

Listening to acoustic versions of songs

Hot tubs

Rubber ducks

Coconut flavored food

Dipping fries in ice cream

Discovering a new type of animal

Seeing hot air balloons

Frogs/toads

Splashing in puddles

Having plants inside my house

Teddy bears

Iridescent/holographic things

Bird houses

Breakfast in bed

Crystals/gemstones

Ziplining

Dew drops

Glow sticks

Flower crowns (especially handmade ones)

Spring rain

Watching other people make art

Lighthouses

Finding heart shaped things in nature

Thinking of getting my own apartment

Coming up with a new recipe for food

Cookbook recipes passed down through families

Bookshelves

Making pretty yogurt bowls

Seaside houses

Flying on planes and being in/above the clouds

Flower bouquets

Looking at and learning about the planets

Fruit snacks

Palm trees

Weeping willow trees

Cherry blossoms

Eating cake

Decorating cakes with eccentric icing designs and colors

Whipped cream

Having snowball fights

Hearing Christmas music

Tattoos

Wearing rings

Green grass

A tidy organized desk with cute desk supplies

My craft room

Hammocks

Little cottages

Cotton candy (and cotton candy flavored things)

Looking at all the paint pallet colors in paint stores

Stamps

Taking silly photos in photobooths

Going to the mall

Making jam, especially strawberry jam

Reading outside

Finding a bird nest and watching eggs hatch

Looking at photos of my family and friends

Finding old flora and art books

Eating fresh corn on the cob with butter on a summer day

Lily Pads

Icicles

Inner peace

Sitting under a tree

Not having to turn on the light in your room when the sun is shining through

When restaurants have patios you can dine at

Fishing on a pier

Seeing old couples in public

Making gifs

Trees swaying in the wind

Anime

Dying Easter eggs

Laying in the trunk of a car and watching the clouds or stars

Night lights

Flower shops

Outer space

Kitchens

PB&J sandwiches

Toasted Cheese

LoFi music

Listening to/watching ambience videos

Turtle necks

Peaches

Looking at old maps

Figurines of the earth/globe

Honey and bees

Cheesecake

Seeing footprints in sand and watching them be washed away by waves

Anything related to the moon, stars, and sun

Reading my horoscope (even if I know it’s not real)

Archways decorated with hanging flowers

Yogurt

Pudding

Knowing that I’m not alone

Ancient roman sculptures

Macarons

When someone tells me they care about me

Weddings

Watercolour

Birthday parties

My brother

My sister

When my dog leaves his bed to lay in the sunlight

Doing mini photoshoots with my friends

Hand making bracelets/necklaces (friendship bracelets)

When someone calls me darling or honey

Love letters

Game night

Skateboarding

Stress balls and squishy toys

Starting something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time

Playing cards

Doing puzzles

Word searches

Kittens

Ordering takeout

Stepping out into the fresh air

Creating vision boards

Getting a massage

Writing positive affirmations

Lunch dates

Standup comedy

Listening to classical music

Nature/animal documentaries

Having someone there to listen to me

Listening to someone when they need it

Accepting myself for who I am

Looking back and seeing how far I’ve come and all the progress I've made

Doing something my future self will be thankful for

Speaking up for myself

Being near loved ones

Finding time for my hobbies

Giving myself time to rest

Saturday mornings

Marrying the one I love

Discovering new things

Going to new cities

My idols

Pastries

Feeling the wind on my face on a car ride

The sensation of music in my ears and like nothing else matters

People who have my best interest in mind

Simplicity

Fulfilling my dreams

Discovering a new ice cream flavor

Knitting

Making myself a priority

Knowing that I am important, and I matter

Thank you all so much for following me and supporting my blog! It means a TON! I never expected for this blog to become popular, especially because I originally started it to help myself get through some mental health issues. I am so happy to be able to share my journey of healing with you all! It means the world to me to help or make a positive impact on even just one person’s life! Each and every single one of you is amazing!! You matter and you are SO important! Thanks again for your everything! Have a great day!!! Sending sunshine your way!!

#10K Followers!!!#WOW!!#Thank you so much!!#Positivity #Happy List #Reasons to Smile #Happy #Happy Things #You are so amazing #You Matter #<3 #jkshdfka #this is the project I was working on #thanks everyone for the help #ilyasm #I loved reading all your submissions so much #you all are so sweet ahh #this was so fun to do #I hope you like this

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shepherds-of-haven · 4 years ago

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College!Au of Shepherd members? What likely are they (i.e. jock, player in the soccer team, bad-boy, the clichès.)? definitely not thinking of writing an au, and im certainly not thinking of maybe making a small edit about it. nOt aT aLl cApTAiN

Hi there! Have you seen the college AU asks? This one is pretty detailed about what kind of students they are, and this one is more succinct with their majors/minors! But I’m always happy to go more in-depth about AUs! 😉

In my imagination, Blade, Trouble, and Chase were suite-mates freshman year and get an apartment together when they’re not living on campus. (Halek, Red, and Riel are also roommates and then Riel can’t stand living in a dorm anymore so he buys a townhome with his family’s money and allows Halek and Red to live there to give himself some semblance of a social life.)

Blade is the scion of a very wealthy family who’s expected to take over the family business one day. Instead he majors in Criminal Justice and--in my imagination--secretly aims to become either a detective or a prosecutor because he suspects his family is involved with criminal organizations. He’s generally quiet, solemn, broody, and troubled (just like in the game lol) and is only dragged out to do “normal” college things by Trouble and Chase’s persistence! He’s in the fencing club and also goes to a mixed martial arts gym off-campus, sometimes with Trouble, which also happens to be the one Briony goes to.

Trouble is in ROTC and majors in mechanical engineering, with dreams of joining the Air Force and becoming a pilot after graduation if he can keep his grades up. For some reason I have this idea that he got into this university on a soccer scholarship? He plays guitar and later gets a dog because fuck it, he’s always wanted one, and he’s rebuilding an old motorcycle in his spare time at this garage where his old school friends work. He definitely wears bomber jackets and letterman jackets like, a lot. He’s very popular and considered a “jock,” but a friendly one! He has an English class with Red and a math class with Riel, going to both of their study groups and then driving them crazy because he either doodles instead of studying or texts. Part-time, I feel like he delivers pizzas for some reason...

Chase is the third part of their trio and is more lax about his studies than the other two (which is a bad influence on Trouble). He does not talk at all about his family or home life and generally spends the holidays with either Blade or Trouble’s families. He’s an undeclared major and has no idea what he wants to do after college and is not worrying about it. He pays smart kids to do his homework for him, so he has an excellent GPA, much to the class president’s (Riel) fury. He’s part of a frat but doesn’t actually drink at parties, more concerned that everyone’s having a good time and making fun memories than he is about himself. He doesn’t allow any scummy behavior in the frat and secretly, on a whim, auditioned for a student play and is surprisingly very into it, to the point where he asks Briony and Trouble for help with his lines. After throwing a huge party where [x] happens, he starts a group chat with everybody involved in this story and it’s sort of how they all become friends, even though many of them already knew each other individually. Oh, and he’s very into Tinder, much to the chagrin of his other two roommates.

I think Briony, Ayla, and Lavinet are also roommates, and so are Shery, Tallys, and Mimir. Briony-Ayla-Lavinet’s place (BAL? Brionaylavi?) is Party Central, whereas Shery-Tallys-Mimir’s place (STM? Shallir?) is Quiet Coffee-Drinking Art Loft Sometimes Hipster Slam Poetry Book Clubs Central.

Briony is either a journalism student or a law student, I can’t really decide. She takes a lot of extracurriculars at their university as a way to blow off steam, including a painting class (which is where she met Shery) and a horseback riding class, because why not? She has been training at the same mixed martial arts gym since she was a teenager, and she starts bringing Ayla and Lavinet there so they can defend themselves when they’re not altogether. Despite her cheerful attitude and popularity around campus, she seems to be running from a past back in her hometown that she doesn’t talk to anyone about, not even her closest friends: an obsessive ex and a dark past are just some of the things she doesn’t want catching up to her. Sometimes she earns part-time money covering shifts at the cafe Shery works at.

Ayla is a journalism/communications student who will later switch majors to hospitality and hate it. She gives wilderness tours and white-water-rafting tours in the summers as a seasonal job and plays volleyball on the university team during the spring seasons and track and field during the fall. Her grades are abysmal and she goes to the tutoring center often for help, which is how she meets Red and Riel. She rides a Vespa around town and also attends the yoga class that Tallys teaches. Yes she wears leather jackets and occasionally beanies. She was too cheap to a buy a meal plan at the university cafeteria so she often skims from others or uses their extra meals before the week runs out. She is a lover of junk food and crams their apartment pantry with all manner of chips, soda, ramen, packaged mac and cheese, and etc! She also definitely games.

Lavinet is a wealthy socialite daughter of the CEO and founder of a huge conglomerate: think a Paris Hilton, but more grounded. She’s majoring in business and political science, being groomed to take over her father’s role, but she wants a taste of “normal” life before that happens. All of her rich friends from high school thinks she’s slumming it with the other kids, but Lavinet’s having the time of her life. She tries not to stand out too much, but she unconsciously does, anyway: wearing designer coats and sunglasses to class, driving a flashy convertible, and keeping her books in a high-end handbag, because backpacks are “schlubby.” She means well but can sometimes be a bit of a drama queen to her roommates. She also loves juicy gossip and eats it up! She has been known to take her roommates’ phones and flirt for them with potential dates. She has a popular vlog and Instagram account, which I imagine is how Briony’s dark past catches up to her. She loves to get coffee at the shop that Shery and sometimes Briony work at and always seems to have a latte in her hand. She can point at any given person and name what lipstick they would be if they were one. She’s fairly good at her studies and loves to be in charge of study groups and gets into a war with another girl who tries to ‘poach’ her study partners. She absolutely takes French and fashion design classes and heads all over campus turn when she walks past!

Red, Riel, and Halek live in what is known as the “Nerd House.” Red is pretty much always at coffee shops and libraries, studying and reading, so much so that he doesn’t notice multiple other students checking him out in his rolled-up sweater sleeves and messenger bag. He’s got a bit of an “Academic Hipster” vibe and definitely has hipster tastes in music and books. He goes to poetry readings at cafes (of which Mimir is a staple) and goes on a lot of first dates that don’t lead anywhere, giving him the reputation of either a really picky person or a playboy. Does he wear glasses? Absolutely. Is it because he needs them? Probably not. On some subconscious level he is probably aware that he looks smart and cute in them. Sometimes he plays pickup soccer with Trouble’s practice team (he played in high school) when he realizes he’s been sitting around too long reading and needs to get some blood pumping! He studies philosophy and history as a double-major.

Riel is the class president and later valedictorian of their class. He majors in math, business and finance, history, and psychology as one of the university’s only “quadruple majors”. He comes from an extremely wealthy family that has donated so much money to the school that many of the buildings have his last name on them. Occasionally he volunteers at the tutoring center, where his worst and most rebellious student is Ayla, who he vows to break. You can often find him in the music building, reserving one of the practice rooms to play beautiful classical piano, which he doesn’t like to play at home with his roommates around. He abhors eating or studying outside because, mysteriously, every time he walks through the quad, a frisbee hits him in the head. He is the head of a business fraternity that is constantly being pranked by Chase’s frat.

Halek initially attended their university as a Food Science major, but dropped out and now attends the culinary arts institute across the street. (His twin brother, Naolin, goes to a prestigious university across the country and is studying to become a doctor.) He works as a barista at the cafe where Shery and sometimes Briony work as servers: the one with sleepy eyes that you end up spilling your life story to when you sit at the counter to drink your frappe and study. Plays the drums in a band that performs at open-mic nights and owns a tank of fish. In class he was constantly falling asleep at his desk but has no trouble now. Definitely smokes weed in his room occasionally and has a litany of tattoos up and down his forearms and hands (and for that matter, Ayla does too).

Finally, the Art Loft trio, Tallys, Shery, and Mimir, who definitely have a garden on their roof and hang their clothes up to dry in the sun up there, which Lavinet for whatever reason refers to as their “solarium.”

Tallys is a plant biology major who aims to be recruited into the country’s top holistic/nature-based pharmaceutical company. She teaches yoga outside of class to make money (and Ayla and sometimes Lavinet attend her morning classes). For whatever reason I feel like she smokes and looks really freaking cool doing it but decides to quit after a relative has a cancer scare. She enjoys classical music and plays the violin when she can. She is shares cooking duties with Shery and picks her up from her job at the cafe so she doesn’t have to walk home at night, leading many to mistakenly assume they’re girlfriends. She constantly has AirPods/earphones in, listening to music, and rarely speaks to others outside of class. Strangely, she owns a flip phone and owns no social media.

Shery is a nursing student who loves to cook and bake as a hobby. She’s a natural introvert and prefers to stay in with her roommates, watching TV while she embroiders, or something, but one day she decides she wants to be more social and that’s how she befriends Halek and Briony. She owns a cat who rules the roost in their apartment as well as a hamster. She keeps detailed diaries and also writes poetry, but is too shy to share it with anyone, including Mimir, her roommate who’s an art major. She always wears pastels and very cute clothing and is a straight-A student. Her parents are pretty stingy so she works at a coffee shop, the Haven, as a way to earn money. She’s also helping with costume design for Chase’s play and rides a bike to campus and to work. She’s close with her professors and often visits them during office hours just to chat.

Mimir is an art student who’s making a big splash in the local scene, as she’s regarded as something of a young genius for her bizarre slam poetry and cryptic, surrealistic paintings. She often does readings at the Haven coffee shop during open-mic nights, and she constantly wears a hoodie, even to class. She paints her nails black and rocks that goth artist aesthetic, complete with dark eye makeup and black lipstick. She rarely speaks, but when she does, it’s usually to say something startlingly-insightful or incredibly mysterious. She feeds birds in the main quad on campus, to the point where they recognize her and will fly to her hand. She smells constantly of incense and can sometimes be seen rummaging around in trash cans on campus for her art installations. There is a mysterious cloaked figure on campus who rides a unicycle while blowing on bagpipes that also spew fire that everyone thinks is her, and she only smiles and fades away when anyone asks.

#aurynofhavens #Shepherds of Haven #AU #modern AU #college AU #college #university #all characters #long

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romxnticss · 3 years ago

Text

Task 003 || The Hargrove Tapes

“You don’t mind if I record this, do you?”

Dean Hargrove sets a small tape recorder on the table, like it’s not the most ominous fucking move in the book. He always was a fan of dramatics.

“So… first the ordeal at the boardwalk, and now my library and the CCU theater are covered in blood. It seems like your name just keeps popping up wherever trouble starts, huh? Now, I’m not here to make you feel like you have any enemies at this school, but you’d have to understand why I’d be a little weary of having troublemakers on campus, wouldn’t you?” He pauses.

On a normal day Mac would probably have something smart to say, starting off with the fact that he wasn’t even a CCU student so there was little that Hargrove could actually do to punish him. You can’t exactly throw someone out of school if they’re not a student in the first place. The worst he could probably do was take Mac’s right to hanging flyers up away and he’d already pretty much decided his music career was toast, so there wasn’t much of a need for that anymore either. The thing is, Mac’s been in a sour mood since the night at the beach. So all he does is shrug, eyes fixed forward just above Hargrove’s head.

“Let’s start with this… ‘Candy Girl’ nonsense. What do you know about her?”

“I don’t know anything,” another shrug, “I don’t know who she is, I don’t know how she knows all this stuff about us or why she wants to hurt us.” After everything that happened, it was the thing he couldn’t wrap his head around- why would anyone target his group of friends? There wasn’t anything particularly remarkable about them, they were mostly decent people, why them? “The only thing I know for sure is that she’s real. It’s not nonsense.”

“And whose idea was it to throw the party on the beach? You all claim it was supposed to be a small event, but I hear quite the crowd showed up. Who invited them?”

Libby. The party had been her idea. Innocent enough at the time, but look where that got him. Much like the crush he’d been harboring for so many years. He’d followed her around like a lost puppy and landed himself in a box, the feelings he’d had for so long now all mixed up and ruined in a matter of hours. Maybe Jamie was right, maybe it hadn’t been love after all. “I don’t remember who’s idea it was,” of course he wasn’t going to rat her out, “I don’t think anyone invited them, they just showed up. And last time I checked, it wasn’t illegal to hang out on the beach.”

“Why do you think you got taken to the library/theater? Why not the other location?”

“I don’t know, random chance? I’d never even been in the library before that night.” He’d never made it a habit to spend all that much time on CCU’s campus, save for meeting up with Libby or hanging a few flyers. Mac had never mixed all that well with school, why start now? “Besides, I was only in there for a few minutes. As far as I know, I was the first person to be...” he pauses for a moment, the memory washing over him once again, “buried.”

“You say someone was ‘murdered’ in front of you… and none of you tried to stop it? Why?”

“Would you?” For the first time since he walked in the door he looks at Hargrove, really looks at him. “You want to say yes, right? That if someone was being murdered right in front of your eyes you’d jump in the middle, no matter how shitty of a person they are, no matter what they’ve done to you. Everyone says they would, everyone wants to believe they’re the hero. But it’s different when it’s really happening. I was scared. I’m sure everyone else was too.”

“You said the last - shall we call it a ‘challenge’? - required you to spill a secret. Insinuates the lot of you are keeping them, doesn’t it? So… what is so sacred to you that someone you’re claiming is a psychopath would want you to share it?”

“I don’t really think that’s any of your business.” Mac hadn’t known about that part, by then he’d been long gone from the library. “There’s nothing wrong with keeping secrets, we all do it. I bet there’s lots of stuff you wouldn’t want getting out.”

“Why do you think your friends didn’t come after you? Do you resent them for it? Enough to get revenge?”

There was that memory again. It’d flooded Mac’s thoughts over and over, everything replaying in his head until he felt like it might explode. Being grabbed, the moments of fresh air before he’d been shoved into the box, the dirt hitting the coffin, hands pounding against the top, the screams he hadn’t recognized as his own at first, finding out that none of it was real. Mac was sure it would never go away, that years from now he’d close his eyes and be taken right back to that place, if he ever made it out of Cherry alive. “I don’t want revenge on anyone,” Mac hadn’t realized there were tears forming until they burned his eyes or that he’d been holding his breath until he let it out, “ I just want to be left alone. So can I go now?”

#cusatask

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cherrybombusa · 3 years ago

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GROUP ONE - THE LIBRARY. SUCCESS.

PLAYERS:

THE ARTIST - Sloane Salt. THE ROMANTIC - Mac Walsh. THE FILMMAKER - Zev King. THE MANNEQUIN - Lilli Montgomery. THE BITCH - Zahra Jackson. THE WRITER - Noah Russell.

PERKS EARNED:

WALK IN MY SHOES: After Jamie Dyer spilled his secret to save his friends, he’s been rewarded with the ability to put other people in his shoes! If something happens to Jamie he doesn’t like, he has the ability to switch places with any character as if it happened to them instead.

MEMORABLE MOMENTS:

-MAC GOT TAKEN BY THE KILLERS. -LILLI GOT GRABBED TWICE AND TAKEN. -SLOANE ATTACKED A MAN ON LSD AND SAVED ZEV. -JAMIE SPILLED HIS SECRET TO CLARISSA - AND THE REST OF CHERRY.

THE NARRATOR: It might not have been a quiet night, maybe not even uneventful, but the Gang found themselves grateful, at least, that the Candy Girl hadn’t shown her face. It was nearing midnight now, and with only Paulie Virginia checking on the kids before they fell asleep on the sand, and Lucas Bright left straggling on the beach with the Gang, they were sure to turn-in soon.

They were gathered around the bonfire, talking and laughing - almost even letting their guards down - but the screech of three white vans pulling up to the shore interrupted every little conversation taking place around the bonfire. They didn’t want to think anything of it at first… College kids in this town were wild, and they were all piling back into town this week, after all. But when a group of masked, hooded figures with baseball bats, and kitchen knives galore began making their way out of the vehicles, and onto the beach - what were they supposed to do but worry?

OFFICER PAULIE: “Hey! Stop right there!”

THE NARRATOR: It was almost instinctual for the rookie to go right into barking cop voice, even with no back up - stupid, of course - but another ‘Candy Girl’ stunt was the last thing he was going to let happen on his watch. The man reaches for the taser in his belt, just like he was trained to do, but just as he gets it free, the blur of a body rushing forward - Lucas Bright - distracts him for a split enough second to fumble.

Paulie almost yells for Lucas to stop, but before he can get the words off of his tongue, the Bright kid nearly runs headfirst into one of the masked figures' fists. It’s shocking how hard he falls - makes Paulie wonder if he’s okay - but before he can wonder too much, he realizes too late that one of the hooded figures has gotten the jump on him. He’s half expecting the figure to reach for his taser - the oh shit moment of the century - but when Paulie feels a baseball bat connect with his ribcage… He almost wishes he had been tased. Might have hurt less.

CANDY GIRL: “Hello, my little freaks and geeks! Did you miss me and my little friends? Because I think tonight is about to get a little more fun.”

THE NARRATOR: ...Uh oh. Maybe I spoke too soon about the Candy Girl not showing her face.

It doesn’t take long to get the gang tied up - not with the threat of knives, and Paulie’s discarded taser at the hooded groups disposal - and the ringleader of this little group, the one bouncing around telling everyone what to do, seems absolutely giddy with her capture. What else are you supposed to expect from faceless psychos, though, right?

CANDY GIRL: “Here’s the game tonight, losers! We’re gonna split you up and see if you can pass our little trials. Those who do? They get to go home tonight! Those who don’t…. Well, you might end up closer to Lux than you thought you were before.”

THE NARRATOR: Candy turns toward one of the other masked figures - one that seems like her Helper - flicking her chin toward the Gang. It’s a cue, and that much becomes clear when one-by-one, each of them has a hood slipped over their face, obstructing their view nearly completely.

CANDY GIRL: “But first, we’re going on a little trip!”

THE NARRATOR: It’s hard for the Gang to know just how they’ve been split up, but as they’re pushed forward toward the parking lot - the sound of Paulie’s and Lucas’s far-off groaning in their ears - they know one thing. They’re completely fucked, and there’s nothing they can do about it with their hands tied behind their backs… Especially not when they’re about to be shoved into the back of those fucking vans.

Nobody’s really sure how long they’ve been driving - they’re all too terrified to try and keep count - but by the time the van finally slows to a stop, they’re all dragged right back out onto solid ground, and into… some old building. Just where, is the question.

MAKE A CHOICE: YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS HAVE BEEN TAKEN BY THE CANDY GIRL TO CCU FOR A NIGHT OF FUN. DON’T DIE!

THE NARRATOR: Maybe it’s the heavy doors that give away their final destination, or maybe it’s the musty smell of old textbooks, but those who had ever stepped foot into the CCU library know right where they are at that moment. It’s a comforting place for some - one that induces only stress, or indifference to others - but it’s hard to imagine that it won’t be a place that brings anxiety after tonight; just as tainted as the boardwalk, or even walking along Lux’s and Harvey’s block might be. Now is no time to think about how they might feel in the future, though -- if they even make it that far. No, they’re going to have to make it through tonight first.

The gang is led into the room like lambs to slaughter - Jamie carried not-so-nicely over one of the maniacs shoulders - but once they’re situated, the hoods that cover the gang’s faces come off; they even cut the ropes off from around their wrists, but the knives, and baseball bats manage to keep everyone in their place. The library is dimly lit, with only it’s balcony lights shining down on the grandiose room; the bank of computers on the second floor is like a beacon, beckoning them forward. It almost seems normal for a moment, like they were just there studying after-hours, but the two figures heading the circle - Candy and her supposed assistant - shock them back into reality with a clap of their hands.

CANDY GIRL: “Like I said, we’re gonna play a little game tonight, boys and girls! But, you’re all oh-so-familiar with games, aren’t you? Especially after our special little stunt at the boardwalk.”

THE NARRATOR: Her voice could almost be considered familiar, but nobody in the room really knows where to place the memory of it. Did she actually sound like that recording on the beach? Was she someone they knew? The gang just looks at each other from any angle that they can; making eye contact at whatever cost, as if it might help them all jog their memory to know they’re on the same page. They don’t get another chance to listen, though, as the other figure - Candy's helper - begins speaking.

CANDY'S LITTLE HELPER: “She’s written some riddles!”

THE NARRATOR: They pull a sheet of paper from their pocket.

CANDY GIRL: “And you’re going to solve them! Don’t worry about the doors -”

THE NARRATOR: The movement is clearly rehearsed as a number of their captors - five, if you’re counting - head toward the door. Three of them leave, but the other two begin looping chains through the antique handles, locking them into the room with no real escape but up… And we know just how well this group does with climbing.

NOAH RUSSELL: Of course. They couldn't have one fucking night could they? Although what more could he have expected from the masked figure who thought a funeral was the time and place to play spin the bottle. The library of all places had a chilling feel to it in comparison to the beach. Almost theatrical like every horror book he'd ever read, and he sure as hell had read a lot of them. "I'm getting real sick of these damn riddles." He started as he thought about taking a step towards the door before thinking better of it. These people had knives, bats, and while on their own that didn't have to overly intimidating, this was the same person who only too recently before had blown up an entire carousel. "Anyone opposed to taking out the windows?"

SLOANE SALT: On some level Sloane knew that this was... a bad situation. There were scary people with what looked like weapons. Extremely tall people, some as tall as the ceiling, maybe and swaying. The hooded girl's voice sounded kind of familiar, but considering the state she was in, she could hardly pin point who it was. She hadn't said much of a word on the way to the library mostly because she didn't really want anyone to know that she was feeling weird and now she was sitting on her ass, staring at her newly freed hands. "When did I paint these...?" She muttered to herself, turning her head entirely too slowly to look over at Noah as he spoke. As she took in his words, her expression quickly shifted to offence, her eyes widening and her mouth opening in fear. Those poor windows, they hadn't done anything to anyone. "No, don't hurt them!"

CANDY'S LITTLE HELPER: “--Um, excuse me? You’re totally throwing us off our rhythm!”

THE NARRATOR: Candy’s little Helper interrupts the conversations with an annoyed tone, as if they’re the ones inconveniencing her night. It’s strange, how nonchalant it is, but Candy just just shushes her. You can't even see her face, but you can almost just tell she's rolling her eyes beneath the mask.

CANDY GIRL: “Will literally just say your line?

CANDY'S LITTLE HELPER: "Fine! You need three keys, and three keys, exactly!"

CANDY GIRL: "Or you'll spend the night -"

THE NARRATOR: Maybe it’s the fear of the moment that kept all of their eyes focused on the two masked figures interacting with them - tunnel vision, of sorts - but it only makes the loud squish of blade entering flesh even louder than it should have been. The group of them flinching before Candy even has a chance to start shrieking through the pain of the blade in their side.

It was almost unbelievable that it had happened at first - did it even make sense that the Candy Girl’s henchmen were even turning on her? - but the blood splashing against the tile had to have been proof enough that it wasn’t just some fucked up group hallucination… One that didn’t seem so expected by either Candy Girl, or the other henchmen.

CANDY'S LITTLE HELPER: “What the fuck is wrong with you!”

THE NARRATOR: Fair question. And the attacker should have heard it - as loud as the second-not-so-in-charge-figure shrieked - but the knife-wielder didn’t even flinch as he dragged Candy toward the bookshelves; blood pouring from the wound in her side.

The other mask - Candy’s little helper - almost considers running for it, throws the note from her hands in anticipation of getting the fuck out of there… but she hardly gets a chance when her own attacker - the other one of the maniacs who had chained the door - comes from behind her and squeezes their hulking arms around her fame. They have their own knife; one that plunges directly into her abdomen, but the Gang doesn’t have much time to watch as the attacker laughs and drags her toward his own row of bookshelves.

What. The. Fuck.

There’s only a moment of hesitation - it had all happened so quickly - but the gang wastes no more time before fleeing to opposite sides of the library, Mac helping Jamie as best as he can in the struggle. The sound of the woman’s dying screams echo across the space, shaking all of them to their core… but they all know one thing: they need to get their hands on that riddle.

If they’re locked in, then it might be their only way of getting out.

MAKE A CHOICE: MAC, JAMIE, LILLI, AND NOAH ARE ON THE LEFT SIDE OF THE LIBRARY, HIDING BEHIND THE LIBRARIAN’S DESK. ZEV, SLOANE, AND ZAHRA ARE ON THE RIGHT SIDE, MAKING THEIR WAY UP THE STAIRS TO THE SECOND LEVEL.

MAC: Tonight is the first time in his life that Mac thinks he shouldn't have went along with one of Libby's ideas. How stupid of them was it to all gather in one spot in the middle of the night? They might as well have asked Sloane to paint perfect targets on their collective backs. He'd already been freaking out enough as it was, but the sound of that blade? The blood? If he made it out of here alive they were sure to be added to his ever growing list of nightmare material. A sudden rush of adrenaline as everyone begins to flee has him nearly carrying Jamie across the room, ducking under the desk, eyes searching to see if the rest of his friends had made it over unscathed. "What the fuck are we supposed to do now?"

NOAH: Even though he knew about the kind of antics the Candy Girl could have possibly gotten up to, there was a difference between knowing and seeing them first hand. Of course it wasn't the first time he'd seen blood drawn, but the blood from cut lips and faces after a brutal run in from home failed in comparison to what he'd just seen. Candy Girl was supposed to be their captor wasn't she? The one who'd been tormenting them since night one? The one who kept Lux fresh and at the forefront of their minds, unable to move on. Watching her fall to her knees, the screeches of pain that rang out behind them as they'd ducked for cover. It didn't make sense. Any trace of alcohol that had once been intruding his symptom felt faint in comparison as he hid beside the desk. "I don't know but we can't stay here. We're gonna be sitting ducks. We need to find those fuckin' keys, but looking in a library is going to be like trying to find a needle in a haystack." He added in a harsh whisper as he attempted to catch his breath.

THE NARRATOR: Split up and helpless. Fuck. Looks like they need that riddle if they're going to make it out of here alive.

MAKE A CHOICE: SOMEBODY DOWNSTAIRS MUST RETRIEVE THE RIDDLE: WHO WILL IT BE?

MAC: Mac's eyes dart around the room, searching for the slip of paper he'd seen one of their captors pull out at the mention of riddles. He wasn't even sure if it would help them at this point, considering he was almost positive getting stabbed wasn't part of the plan, but it was their best option. Right? When his eyes finally land on the piece of paper his adrenaline once again kicks in, causing him to lunge across the room in an attempt to retrieve it.

MAKE A CHOICE: SUCCESS!

THE NARRATOR: Every step sounds like a symphony in their own ears, each and every movement too-loud, even masked by the sound of Candy and her Helper's screams, but somehow Mac manages to make his way back around the librarian's desk and toward where the riddle was thrown. He gets his hands on the blood soaked paper; the breath leaving his lungs as the sound of screaming begins to die - no pun intended - out. It’s not completely obvious what he should do next, but he makes eye contact with his friends behind the librarian's desk; with the few on the second level.

They’re never going to make it out of this without each other, so they better think fast.

They hear the sound of the killers beginning to stir from somewhere within the maze of bookshelves, and just like that a plan forms in their freaky little hive mind. Someone needs to distract the killers while everyone else gets upstairs. But who will it be?

MAKE A CHOICE: SOMEBODY MUST DISTRACT THE KILLERS WHILE THEIR FRIENDS GET UPSTAIRS. SHOULD THEY THROW SOMETHING ACROSS THE ROOM , SNEAK ACROSS THE ROOM AND KNOCK SOMETHING OVER, OR SHOULD SOMEONE UPSTAIRS THROW SOMETHING OFF OF THE BALCONY?

ZAHRA: Zahra peered down at the half left on the floor below. Things had gone wrong so quickly and in so many ways and compartmentalising was the only way any of them were getting out of this in one piece, so she did her best to ignore the fading screams. Instead she turned her focus to her surroundings. There had to be something she could throw down to distract the psychos - there! Her eye caught on a computer plugged in near the edge of the balcony. Wordlessly, she hurried over to it and yanked out the plug. Then, with as much of a heave as she could muster, she threw it over the edge.

MAKE A CHOICE: FAILURE!

THE NARRATOR: It was a long shot, but as Zahra tosses the computer off the railing, only one of the killers turns their head to investigate. The other? Well, their gaze lands directly on Mac.

It’s hardly a split second before they cross the room toward them, and as hard as Mac tries to fight, but it’s no use - the threat of the knife, and the feeling of it’s handle knocking against the side of his face is enough to give the killer the upper hand… At least they have time to throw the riddle in the general direction of their friend before they’re dragged away toward the maze of bookshelves.

It’s enough to the rest of the gang all in place, but they know they have to get upstairs - they have to get the hell out of there, and save Mac.. if there’s even time. They all book it as fast as they can, everyone helping Jamie along the way, and somehow they manage to make it up the stairs before they’re spotted - one of them even manages to grab the riddle, even if they were silently hoping it wasn’t Mac's last gift to them all.

At least it might actually save them.

Their hearts are pounding loud enough in their chests that they might swear they could all count each other’s heartbeats. Now is no time to check up on each other, though - not as they lay the first riddle out in front of them

If you want the first key, you’ll have to find Me,

I’m the keeper of the scrolls, you see.

Melvil named the system, and I check it twice,

Are you feeling naughty? Then here’s some advice:

I’ll name a book, or maybe name three -

You’ll choose the one that speaks to the dream

Of losing it all, or leaving behind

That sweet, sane, little part of your mind.

Maybe they fight it, or maybe they end it,

Maybe the pick is the one your friend mentioned.

Will your gang make it out? Maybe - who knows.

But I wouldn’t count on it, unless you all know who glows.

HOODED MANIAC: THE KILLER IS HERE.

THE NARRATOR: The killer hardly sneaks up on the, but the Gang is surprised anyway - each of them gasping as Lilli is snatched up by his grasp. She screams - she's caught - but the rest of them have a choice to make.

MAKE A CHOICE: LILLI HAS BEEN GRABBED. DO YOU TRY TO SAVE THEM OR LET THEM GO?

ZAHRA: Yeah, things with Lilli had always been a little contentious but there was no way Zahra was letting her be dragged away. They'd already lost Mac and that was fucking enough. She lunged forward and grabbed Lilli as she was snatched up.

MAKE A CHOICE: SUCCESS!

THE NARRATOR: It’s a great effort, and though they don’t manage much real damage, Zahra's still successful in getting her ""friend"" the hell away from that monster. The whole group is terrified, but they’re quick on their feet as they move somewhere else that could be deemed even semi safe within the madness to solve the next riddle.... Watch out though. I think the killer saw where you were going.

MAKE A CHOICE: LILLI RUNS FOR THE KEY.

THE NARRATOR: Lilli runs as fast as she can - the gang all sneaking close behind - and with the correct location, it’s not hard to find the key taped to a shelf in the history section, along with the next part of the riddle. It should be easy to get back to their friends, but before they can even turn around, she feels hands grasping around her limbs and yanking them back through the bookshelves yet again- dragging her away toward the maze of a room to… She didn’t even want to think about it. She just knew they had to fight - but she can’t do it alone.

MAKE A CHOICE: DOES SOMEBODY WANT TO SAVE THEIR FRIEND, OR LET THEM DROP THE KEY?

THE NARRATOR: The gang can hear Lilli trying to fight her attacker - her screaming echoing through the space - and though the guilt eats them alive, they know there’s nothing they can do about it. They just have to hope that the fact that the screaming gets further and further away and doesn’t just abruptly end - just like it did when those two masked maniacs got stabbed earlier - is a good sign.

The remaining members make quick work of grabbing the key and the riddle, and try to find another safe spot in the library.

If you want to get out, don’t Twist and Shout,

It’s not the Candy Man locking you out.

If you feel Clueless, then here’s your clue -

You can find Me behind door number two.

How to know you’re close? Just think of the times,

The 90’s are ending, but gossip still thrives!

Once you’re through, don’t look any further -

Your key can be found in the one with no murder.

ZEV: Zev scopes out the Librarian's desk and makes a move for it, trying to keep down and quiet as he dashes, heart pounding in his chest.

THE NARRATOR: Zev sprints with everyone else not far behind him. The key is there, taped beneath Glenda Logan's desk along with the last part of their riddle, but at the very last moment - before the Gang can warn him - one of the killers comes and hits him over the back of the head with his knife. He's got a hold on Zev, and as hard as he's fighting, he's not going to be able to make it out alone.

MAKE A CHOICE: DOES SOMEBODY WANT TO SAVE THEIR FRIEND, OR LET THEM DROP THE KEY?

SLOANE SALT: All of the running around and masked killers has mostly been Sloane moving in accordance with everyone else, eyes bugged out of her face as she tries not to trip over her platform boots. When Zev gets snatched, it's as if enlightenment comes over her and she suddenly becomes aware that one of her favourite people, someone basically a little brother to her is in danger. "Let go of him!" She screeches as she reaches for him, using all of her body weight to try and pull him away.

MAKE A CHOICE: SUCESS!

THE NARRATOR: Maybe it's the LSD, or just sheer willpower, but everyone swears they actually see the Killer flinch as Sloane screams like a banshee toward him. They groan in pain as their shoulder is pulled nearly out of place, and in fear they run as far as they can in the other direction.

The whole group is terrified, if not confident, but they’re quick on their feet as they move somewhere else that could be deemed even semi safe within the madness to solve the next riddle.

Here’s your third key - you’re almost there!

Unless you can’t take a bit of a scare.

Your clues can be found with Clarissa Teller -

But she’ll only tell you if you can impress her.

Somebody’s secret must be told.

It’s only then that I’ll give her the gold.

So, hurry along! But only choose one.

Oh, wow, oh boy!

Now this will be fun.

MAKE A CHOICE: SOMEBODY MUST TELL CLARISSA THEIR SECRET ON THE COMPUTER UPSTAIRS. WHEN THEY DO, THE LOCATION OF THE THIRD KEY TO BE RELEASED.

NOAH: The panic that had gripped his chest as the evening grew, only intensified as they read their final clue. Mac had been taken, Lilli had been taken, he'd watched helplessly as Zahra saved Zev, and perhaps the bit that was the most impossible to forget, he'd seen the Candy Girl murdered before his very eyes. And while he didn't see the life fleeing from her eyes he could picture it a little too well. "Zev you okay?" He asked, in an attempted moment of calm and partially to distract from the racing of his own heart. Waiting the moment for some sort of nod before turning to the rest of the group. "What the hell is she talking about? What doesn't Clarissa know already?" He asked, his voice soft with profound fear as he glanced around the room. The first two clues while challenging in their own right, they seemed to fall into place, but he dreaded what could possibly be meant by the third.

SLOANE SALT: Sloane was definitely riding on more than one high at the moment, one of the unidentified form, from that pill she'd taken and one from saving Zev. She was breathing heavily, leaning on the table in the study room as she looked around at everyone who was still with them. They needed to get through this, that was the only thing that mattered, even if even the furniture was kind of freaking her out. Throwing her arms around Zev, she turned her head when she heard Noah's voice. Her mouth twisted as she fought off the urge to say something, a sly smile forming on her lips. "Come on, she doesn't know lots of secrets." Her eyes widened as she emphasised the 'lots'. In the state she was in, she was tempted to just start blurting out everything she knew, but then her head turned to Jamie and she suddenly felt guilty. "What do we do?"

JAMIE: Jamie had been watching the crew from the jump, lingering behind the rest not only due to his leg but his own dwindling motivation to be part of some messed up game when two of his favourite cohorts had gone missing with no promise of survival. This was what Cherry was now, a mecca of lost, frantic young adults enslaved to the whims of someone other than themselves. As terrible as they were, Jamie didn't believe any of them deserved to be forced to admit to something they weren't ready for. That was why he'd agreed to hide the note, wasn't it?

When Sloane's desperate eyes met his, he'd already made up his mind.

"I'll do it," he said, with little fanfare. "Can someone help me up the stairs?"

By the time he was seated at the computer, his heroic resolve had diminished. Words that normally came easy for him sat bated behind still fingers as he thought of exactly what to write when he'd never allowed the thoughts to come to real fruition.

𝐝𝐲𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞: Dear Clarissa, the day has finally come where I have to acknowledge your existence but rest assured that it's not by my own volition. I have a secret to tell you that I'm sure won't come as too big of a surprise.

Last semester, I snuck in and did the SATs for Cherry High graduates who had the means to pay. My family is in debt, thanks to my father and his frivolous new wife, and I thought I'd be able to pay it off. I couldn't, but that's not the point. The point is that I enjoyed every minute of it. The studying, the acceptance, the shining accolades.

I mean, I wouldn't have to talk to you if I just went to college, would I?

THE NARRATOR: It probably feels like a punch in the gut to be selling their own secret to the local paper, but as they press send on the keyboard - as Clarissa starts typing - the power goes out, and the room goes dark. It’s terrifying at first, enough to make the Gang clutch at each other, like it might be their last moment… But when the sound of chains dropping from the door handles echoes through the room - followed by the scurry of sprinting out of the library - they almost think to breathe a sigh of relief. Could that really be it? Could it be over?

They don’t move for nearly an hour - or maybe it just feels like an hour - but when they finally decide the coast is clear, the group of them - or what’s left of them - sprint down the stairs, and the hell out of CCU as quickly as they can. Maybe it’s a betrayal to not even look for their friends… or maybe their bodies. But how are they supposed to stomach the thought of it? How are they expected to stick around with those… killers still on the loose?

Are their friends still alive? Is the Candy Girl alive? Who knows. They just know they need to get the police down here to help their friends as soon as they can... even if it means leaving people behind for now.

MAKE A CHOICE: YOU HAVE SUCCESSFULLY COMPLETED YOUR PLOT EVENT. YOUR FRIEND'S FATES ARE UNKNOWN.

#bio rp #town rp #oc rp #skeleton rp #small town rp #secrets rp #gossip rp #gossip girl rp #90s rp #classic rp #college rp #secret rp #lsrp #small rp #small group rp #plot event 002 - the bonfire.#plot event 002 - ccu library.

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intellectys · 5 years ago

Photo

Being a studyblr is of course far more about the mindset and our shared passion for learning than the stationery, but in this digital world that revolves around photos, it doesn’t always feel that way. However, me that just saying “it’s who you are, not what you have!!” seems quite preachy and condescending, and I know from my own experience how not feeling the same can still hurt your confidence and make you feel like you don’t fit in- even if in reality, that’s completely untrue.

While I can’t solve all the underlying issues with the way this community often (unintentionally!!) functions, what I can do is share advice from my own experience- so here’s a few things I do as a studyblr on a budget to make my money go further.

Try using a makeup bag as a pencil case. So long as you’re not someone who likes lots of compartments, they’re often cheaper than bags specifically marketed as pencil cases (especially on sale). Plus, they’re waterproof and come in so many cute patterns!

Hold off on buying a planner or calendar until a couple of weeks into the year. If you can make do with a notebook for a while, you’ll save a tonne! Demand drops off massively after school starts so you can find some huge discounts on really nice quality planners.

Use AliExpress to buy cute stationery, especially sticky notes. As long as you’re willing to wait a bit longer, it’s usually pretty reliable and always super cheap. Plus, you can avoid dropshipping scams and save money to support your favourite creators & artists!

Don’t be put off by places like Walmart! Even though they’re not the first places that spring to mind when you think of stationery, supermarkets often stock some good, cheap, and reliable supplies. And they can still be super pretty- look at this adorable notebook!

Keep an eye on sales. If you’re after a specific brand, waiting for a sale or finding a coupon code can be a lifesaver. If it’s a specific product, try watching supermarket flyers until somewhere like the middle of Lidl or Aldi starts stocking it for cheap!

Become friends with DIY. One thing so many studyblrs are talented at is making things look pretty- make the most of that!! Decorate your notebooks! Embroider your bags! Use the skills you have to make the most of what you’ve got, and it’ll often look even better than something fancy and ridiculously expensive.

Try some thrift stores. While this isn’t directly related to stationery, if you’re after homewares for your photos or even a nice background, thrift stores can be a solution. Don’t have a glam white desk? Lay out a big white shirt from the thrift store! Plus, sustainability is always a plus.

Buy books secondhand or get them from the library. This isn’t just true for things like textbooks, but for things you want to read as well. Things like pretty bookshelves are definitely idealized but also very expensive. Secondhand books from places like Alibris, or my fave, AbeBooks, are not only cheaper but come with that vintage vibe that’s really in at the moment!

Save things like jam jars to use as stationery organizers. Who needs acrylic storage when we have glass? If you’re after the aesthetics, reused containers can look great for your desk (and photograph really well!) while things you use less often can be hidden away in shoeboxes elsewhere.

Make use of freebies!! Studyblr is great for providing free resources, from gorgeous free printables to free extensions to make your computer look prettier. This sort of thing can be a fab way to customize your setup without spending a tonne, plus you can change the vibe whenever!

Enter all the giveways you can. So long as you’re old enough to give away your mailing address (or have permission from your parents!) and check that’s it’s a legit giveaway, you have literally nothing to lose. Especially on Instagram, brands frequently offer giveaways of their products, and it can be an amazing way to cop some name brand bits and bobs completely for free.

Realize that a lot of the “studyblr aesthetic” is nothing more than framing. I once used a Starbucks doubleshot can in photos across three whole weeks just to make my photos look pretty- no lie. This is quite deceptive but I think everyone, myself included wants to put their best self forward. You, too, are in control of what people see, and there’s so many free resources available online! Take a peek at @studyquill’s guide to photography or some tips from @studypetals and make the most of free apps to edit your photos. Half the time, it’s not about the products, but rather what people perceive.

Please do remember, though, that your hard work, effort, and dedication are infinitely more valuable than the things you own. You don’t need a Mac or a Kanken or Tombows to be an incredible studyblr to motivate yourself and inspire others, even if it often seems that way.

If that sort of thing ever affects your confidence, you’re more than welcome to drop me a message for reassurance, or to suggest more tips, or even just to chat!! I’ll also reblog anything you tag me in (#intellectys)- regardless of how “””pretty””” it is.

This is just my (pretty small) effort to support everyone and make them feel welcome, since this community is filled with amazing people, all of whom deserve admiration and appreciation for the fantastic things they do <3

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amydancepants-peralta · 4 years ago

Note

36 for fluff prompts? 🥺🥰

36: “A thunderstorm is rolling through town and you’re scared of lightning/thunder, so I'll protect you”

This, and a bunch of other prompts that never made their way to AO3, have just been posted here. ♥️

boom, clap

It’s the steady roar from a shot of thunder that pulls Amy Santiago from her slumber that Thursday evening, her eyelids putting up a lazy fight against returning to sleep as she listens to the thunder’s reverberations coarse through the oft-unused metal of the fire escape outside.

Briefly, she remembers hearing the weather man mention something about a storm during his report earlier this evening. But her and Jake had been taking turns between cooking dinner and supervising their son as he coloured at the kitchen counter, and anything that wasn’t immediately in front of her had paled in importance.

Gripping the edge of her favourite blanket Amy shifts in place, turning her body towards the slightly open windows as she listens to the rain falling on the street below. She knows that she should probably get up and close the gaps before the rain has a chance to come in; but right now the warmth of their bed, mixed with the sound of the world outside, was just too good to ignore.

She’s long been a fan of rainy nights, ever since the first month or so of her and Jake’s relationship when they’d spent the better part of an entire stormy weekend lazing in bed, listening to the rain as it pounded against the brick outside. The coolness that inevitably seemed to come with such weather had held no match for the warmth of her newly-titled boyfriend’s arms (the overcast clouds unable to compete with the brightness of his smile whenever she leaned in to kiss him), and their days off had passed slowly in a tangle of limbs. Over time it had become her favourite thing to do: snoozing in the comfortable familiarity of Jake and waking to stubbly kisses; and although sleeping in doesn’t get to happen a lot these days, it is nights like these that pull the memories from their permanent home in the warmth of her heart.

Her eyes have already turned towards her sleeping husband’s figure when the sky is suddenly flooded by a flash of lightning, their bedroom lighting up for half a second, and Amy silently counts out the seconds before the crash of thunder, stopping at fifteen and dividing by five the way her father taught her so many years ago. Three miles - and not too far from home.

Jake’s body has turned towards her in his sleep, in a position that isn’t normal for either of them until they’re close to waking, and with her sight now well adjusted to the darkness Amy studies the familiar lines of his face. Mouth open slightly as he lets out a muffled snore … face slack in the kind of peacefulness that only a decent night’s sleep can bring.

The nights that followed his time in prison, when every strike of mother nature’s fury would make him quiver with fear, had never deviated far from Amy’s mind, and even though it had been years since he’d reacted that way her mind still went to her love every time a storm loomed above.

He’d told her one evening, with a voice that was shaking almost as hard as his body, that every clap of thunder sounded exactly like the doors of the jail cells in Jericho, slamming shut one by one along the corridor with an undeniable finality until it was his turn. Each crash of lightning would hurtle him back to freezing nights on that bottom bunk; ignoring the guard’s self-satisfied smirk as he was yet again reminded that the only certainty now, was a life without freedom.

The last time he’d cowered at the thunder, it had been about a month after they got engaged. She’d held him close while he dropped kiss after kiss against her engagement ring, head burrowed against her chest until he finally fell asleep. And it had made Amy realise that even though she herself held her own varying levels of fear - whether it be that drop-in-the-stomach feeling upon the realisation that the jokey, sometimes annoying detective that sat across every day somehow now occupied her every thought; or the heart-pounding-in-your-ears terror that took over all rational thought when she saw the same man (now, purely known as the love of her life) being held at gunpoint - truly, the one thing that both she and Jake were so scared to lose was a life without the other.

Whether it was the constant reassurance of her presence, or the inherent knowledge that their life together really was just around the corner from being officially offical, Amy isn’t entirely sure. What she does know is since that night, Jake had slept through every storm. But still, with every tempest that had passed since, she has always taken a moment to check.

Tonight, thankfully, seemed to be okay.

The next clap of thunder is violent - the kind that seems to splinter right through your eardrum - and Jake’s eyes snap open right before they both hear the terrified wail of their son from his bedroom down the hall. It’s followed a mere second later by the sound of his bare feet slapping against the floorboards as Mac races into their bedroom, bounding onto Jake and Amy’s bed without hesitation as the clouds grumble above.

His tiny fingers grapple with the edge of their comforter, scurrying underneath the covers and shuffling closer to Amy in the blink of an eye, whimpering into her shirt as another round of thunder rumbles above.

Amy feels Jake’s hands brush against her own as they both move to calm their son, murmuring soft words of comfort as he shakes beneath them.

“That last bang was a pretty loud one, huh buddy?” Jake’s voice sounds a little rough, and Amy can tell it’s a combination of recently waking and watching Mac tremble. Their three year old nods his head into her chest, and Jake continues. “Yeah, they can sound pretty scary sometimes.”

Mac’s transition to a ‘big boy bed’ was a relatively recent one, and he had been So Proud to climb underneath the blankets earlier this evening that both Jake and Amy knew he had probably tried really hard to stay in his room as the ‘big brave boy’ he had declared himself to be only a few days ago.

Snuffling against her neck, Mac nods quickly at what Jake said before lifting his head up to look at his parents, his deep brown eyes suddenly so wide with fear that Amy’s heart sinks just a little. This was her little lion, with his equally messy mane, and the owner of an incredibly contagious giggle. Even if he had tested her resolve earlier today by having a full-on meltdown in the middle of the department store because she would not let him take home the fire extinguisher as his new toy; he was her baby boy, and the urge to protect him from all the scary parts of life was unparalleled.

“But why?”

Jake and Amy lock eyes over the top of their son’s head, and with a comical roll of her eyes, Amy grins. Lately, but why? had become two of Mac’s most favourite words to say.

She wants to tell him that logically, thunder is merely a ‘cause and response’ action, the atmosphere clashing between sudden and expansive pockets of heat that cool just as quickly as they build. One day, they will take a trip to the library and read book after book on just how cool weather can be - make posters and projects about all of the different seasons and how they affect the earth as they pass through - but for now, she merely smiles at her son, and asks - “Do you remember when we went to watch Grandpa Ray play bowling with Kevin?”

“Gampa Way?” (The letter R has been one of the more difficult letters for Mac to master, and the tiredness that still hovered over his body did not help in the slightest.)

“Yeah. And remember how loud the bowling pins sounded every time he would roll a ball into them?”

(It had come as a complete surprise to everyone and no-one when fliers for Holt’s bowling tournament had landed on each of their desks. It was, after all, exactly as their captain had described: a simple - “and yet vastly entertaining” - combination of both geometry and Newton’s second law of motion. The entire squad had attended, if for no other reason than to watch their captain traipse along over-bleached wood in garishly red leather shoes, and had come away impressed by both he and Kevin’s smooth bowling techniques.)

Mac’s eyes grow wider at the memory and he nods, switching positions and burrowing into Jake’s arms as a quiet rumble rolls through the clouds.

“Well, thunder is just like that. It’s when Mother Nature decides to take all of her friends, and go bowling.” Amy pauses for a moment, waiting for any trace of doubt before continuing. “There’s a rumble as the ball rolls down the lane … and every time you hear a loud bang, it’s just someone making another really great score.”

Resting his chin on his father’s chest, Mac looks up at Jake. “Like Kevin?”

Giving him a gentle smile, Jake nods. “Yeah, just like Kevin and Grandpa Ray.” Wriggling slightly until his right arm is under the covers, Jake runs his index finger slowly along the bridge of his son’s nose back and forth. It’s something that he’s done with Mac ever since he was born, and has a fairly high success rate in calming him down.

“But you know what? It’s okay if the sounds scare you a little. Or even a lot. Daddy used to find the storms scary, too.”

Amy’s fingers weave through Mac’s curls from behind as she speaks. “And Mommy, too.”

Rolling back until his head rests on the edges of both their pillows, Mac looks over at Amy before turning to Jake, then back to Amy again. “Weally?”

“Yeah, bud. Really. Sometimes things are scary, and it’s okay if it makes you feel that way.”

Taking in a deep breath, Amy feels her eyebrows raise at the sheer perfection of Jake’s response. Since day dot, he’s been an amazing father to their son (and she knows he will be just the same to their next addition, still another eight months away) - providing that ideal mixture of attention and light-hearted approach to life that she loves so dearly. For all his reservations about fatherhood, Amy genuinely cannot imagine doing this with anybody else.

Stretching his neck slightly, Jake leans in towards them both. “I’m going to let you in on a little secret, Mr Mac, and you need to know it’s something that only us Peralta-Santiago’s will ever truly understand.”

Mac’s eyes seem to double in size as he scoots just that little bit closer to Jake, clearly intrigued. Playing up to the mystery of it all, Jake curls his finger in a ‘come hither’ action, a grin breaking out onto his face when Mac follows eagerly.

Unashamedly, Amy finds herself doing the same.

Dropping his head down towards his son, Jake glances up at Amy before locking eyes with Mac, his voice coming out in a stage whisper as he divulges - “There’s no safer place in the world, than in Mommy’s arms.”

“In the world?”

“In the whole. world.”

Flipping onto the mattress again, Mac turns to Amy - his eyes so wide with wonder that she cannot help but let out a chuckle, opening her arms in silent invitation. He wriggles over to her eagerly, already convinced that what his father has told him is 100% the truth; and at the feeling of her son’s still slightly chubby cheeks resting against her chest Amy makes a silent prayer for moments like this to never, ever fade.

“She gives the best hugs, that are completely filled with safety and protection and hope and … just love, My Mini Mac. Your mom is just choc-full of love for the both of us, and the real secret is just how lucky we both are to get her hugs every. single. day.”

As her eyes begin to pool with tears, Amy looks over at Jake, mouthing I love you and breaking into a grin when he mouths it right back. Even after all these years together, she still finds herself thinking that maybe she might just be the luckiest girl in the world. “I don’t about you, bubba, but I kinda think your Daddy’s cuddles are just the BEST.”

Mac’s forehead brushes against her chest repeatedly as he nods, turning again to watch both of them from the pillow (truly, he can be the wriggliest of worms at times). Tracing one of the buttons on his pyjamas with the tip of her finger, Amy deviates to give him a playful poke in the belly before tracing the button again. “We’ll always be here for hugs, Macadoodle. No matter what, no matter when. Okay?”

Jake reaches his hand across the small space between them, linking his fingers with Amy’s and resting them against Mac’s stomach as his curls bounce from an enthusiastic nod.

“Mama is right. No matter what, no matter when. But … for now, how about we try and get some sleep, little man? You can stay here between us, and be the safest boy in all the universe.”

Amy feels a soft kick as Mac wriggles further down the mattress, and she waits until he’s fully settled before tucking him in gently. “You’re right, Dadda. You’ve got a big day tomorrow with Aunty Ro-Ro, so you need to build up all your energy.” The clouds rumble slightly outside, and Jake slips out of bed quickly to close the windows as the rain begins to pelt down. “Don’t worry about the storm, my little lion. You’re safe here with us.”

As he returns to their bed, Jake leans forward slightly to press a kiss to Amy’s lips, following with a goodnight kiss to Mac’s forehead. “A snug as a bug you are, mister. Time for rest, okay?”

Both of the parents watch as Mac’s eyelids flutter shut, the tiniest of smiles staying on his face as he nestles into the blanket covering him. Craning her neck, Amy leans forward in a silent request for another kiss, and gives her husband a contented smile as they pull away. Despite how tired they both were, it was moments like this that made being a family all the more worth it.

Storms may come and go, but what they have together is stronger than anything the world could try to throw at them.

She wakes in the morning with a tiny arm stretched across her face and the sound of her husband singing off-key in the bathroom, and as Amy curls onto her side to bathe in the warmth of the morning sun, she is absolutely certain that she is the luckiest.

#my writing #it's ... been awhile #mini-Mac and the Scary Storm #peraltiago fic

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astralastrid · 5 years ago

Text

USUK/UKUS survey by @americapersonified

Tagged by @hariible so here we go!

In what decade did they officially become involved?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

The fics have ruined me. So I'd probably say during or after WWII. Plus that's when the "Special Relationship" was coined.

Who tops? (USUK or UKUS?)

*Looks at the UKUS server I made* idk you tell me

Honestly though Arthur probably has more relationship experience, so he's more confident and willing to take the lead. Alfred is actually secretly shy and modest about this stuff! (I mean, I do think we Americans are more conservative and modest when it comes to romance?) Plus like, Alfred finally feels like he can trust someone and let them take care of him, that he's loved when the whole world mocks him... Whoops got a little angsty there

Was either of them a virgin before their first hookup?

It's time for me to unveil my demi!America headcanon that's just me projecting aw yeah

Alfred is. He actually thought he was ace before he met Arthur because he was never interested in that kind of stuff, preferring to cuddle instead. But once he met Arthur he trusted that he'd take care of him and stuff and wanted to try it.

If not, to whom did each lose his virginity?

Alfred to Arthur.

Arthur to? Idk Francis probably? I do see FrUk as like, a past thing. Along with SpUk and PortEng. So one of them probably.

(Read more bc LONG post)

Are they more patient with each other in private, or do they bicker/tease each other all the time?

Haha projection time 2.0

Bro, like, a good relationship should have teasing anyway (unless your partner isn't ok with it!) so definitely. But Alfred actually gets self-conscious about the things that Arthur teases him about so he has to stop and tell him how much he loves him and stuff. But in general they're more patient because they've come to understand each other and love the other's quirks.

Will they ever get married?

Yeah but after a while. Alfred wants to do it right away but Arthur rejects him, saying that the don't need rings to prove that they love each other. He promises he will eventually. I like to think after gay marriage legalized in the States they celebrated by getting married.

If so, where will the wedding be held? (Add other details if you wish.)

Hopeless romantic Ame time!

Can you have more than one ceremony? No? Oh well. Summer wedding in America, Fall Wedding in England. I don't know much about wedding planning but I read a headcanon that was like "their vows were so beautiful it made everyone cry" and I support that. Both of them cry during the other's too. Lots of tears shed on both sides during everything. Lots of white and silver and gold because yeah. None of this stupid "one of them wears a dress" business. Like, it's ok for a relationship to be masc/masc and fem/fem like don't heteronormalize it. So two tuxes. Probably no "walking down the aisle?" Maybe they both come in from the sides idk. A cheer when they kiss. "Can't Help Falling in Love" by Elvis is their first dance. Arthur probably sings "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" after their first dance. Wedding cupcakes is galaxy brain so wedding cupcakes. Multiple flavors.

At whose house do they most often stay together?

Alfred's. It's larger anyway.

Do they refer to each other by their nation names or human names?

Human names. Nation only for business.

What pet names do they have for each other?

Arthur: Love, (The most common one) Darling, Dearest, Dear, Poppet (2nd most common) Alfie (extremely rare, or when drunk. Alfred adores when he calls him this though.)

Alfred: Babe, Baby, Artie, Art, Honey, Sweetie, Sweetiepie, Sweetheart, Sweetcheeks.

Who drives?

Both, Alfred loves to drive! But Arthur gets nervous because Alfred can drive like a New Yorker, (that is, aggressively, quickly, a bit dangerously, lots of honking from him and others) especially when he's in a rush or late, and god help everyone when he has road rage.

So Arthur judges the mood and insits if he knows Alfred is probably gonna drive like that.

Is Alfred good at making Arthur’s tea?

Dude of course. It's never quite perfect of course, but you don't date someone for decades without learning how to make their lifeline. In this vein Arthur also knows how to make Alfred's coffee. (And since this isn't a question, Alfred likes it blacker than black in the mornings, and all sugared and creamered up after work and in the evenings.)

It’s universally accepted that Arthur sucks at cooking. Does Alfred enjoy cooking? Is he good at it? Or does he usually stick to McDonald’s and fast food?

Ok yeah but I headcanon Arthur can bake, like really well. Ok yeah I know about his scones but maybe he's just bad at making those specifically.

Alfred loves to cook. He loves to grill even more. But he likes to experiment and try new stuff and he's damn good at it (because cooking is just another science!) So his meals are like comfort food. Almost restaurant quality. Boy could be a chef. But he also loves his fast food and instants. (Kraft's Mac and Cheese is so good.) And yeah he loves Mickey D's but have y'all ever been to like, Noodles and Company or Sonic? Like, there are some GOOD fast food joints and I'm sure he loves them all. Arthur probably doesn't like burger joints but does like places like Panera.

Do they shower together? (Often; not specifically for sex.)

Sometimes? Idk man it's hard as shit to wash your back so yeah? Also the tenderness of giving your lover a bath? I'm🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Who smells better? (In your opinion.)

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

People just smell like, people, and to the other they each smell like home.

How vocal are they in bed?

Alfred’s so LOUD lmao. But Arthur loves it. If he was more of a memelord he'd record and make a remix of his sounds.

Who has the more active libido?

Definitely Arthur.

Is spending time together easy, or are they forced apart for long periods at a time?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I don't know how politics work? Do important government officials have to be there in person for meetings?

Let's have two senarios here:

Let's say they do, and they have to be apart for periods of time. Both the boys have separation anxiety and HATE being apart, so there's always the fear and the paronia and concern when they are apart, and they have almost daily video chats. It's really hard on both of them. They text and call often too. They miss the other dearly. When they reunite they kiss and cuddle like they need it to survive. They're much more affectionate with each other and spend every moment they can together to "recharge" before the "hyper-affectioness" goes down. Leaving is super difficult. Lots of tears and hugs, promises to be back asap, longful stares and apologies. Cursing their job and such. Desire to quit or face the consequences and just stay. (Which is completely blocked by the other.)

Let's say somehow they work something out and they can spend long amounts of time together with minimal travel. Sometimes they get into fights or just get on each other's nerves or just need some alone time. Alfred will go run or excercise while Arthur goes to a café until they're ready to make up/miss and want to see the other. Business trips help keep tensions low, but they're still painful.

Are they wealthy? Or do they live modestly?

I’d say like average people. Arthur probably likes it a bit more tasteful and stylish though, so little hints of wealth. Also, Arthur basically has a library for his book collection that acts as his study and Alfred has his own study and a gaming room. They have the prettiest garden you ever did see though. And a really nice patio. With a nice backyard and grill.

For Alfred specifically: Glasses on or glasses off?

On! Except in the bedroom.

How often do they break up?

Rarely if at all. They probably did once and missed the other so badly that they promised never to do it again, and always talk it out. Sure they get into fights and one of them will storm off, but they both understand that that usually means the other needs to cool down before they can talk.

Open relationship?

No.

Did Arthur actually care for Alfred before the American Revolution?

I really want to say yes, because of how it was portrayed, but honestly? I don't think the U.S. was any different from England's other colonies. He'd occasionally check up on all of them, but he was super surprised at how fast America grew.

Of course once the war happens he's riddled with regret. Maybe if he treated him better this wouldn't have happened. War with a colony for their independence is ugly anyway. Even after the war, I don't think England was as heartbroken as it was portrayed. I think he was depressed about it for a while, but eventually got over it. It still took him, like any colonizer, a while to see him as an equal though, which infuriated America. However they are both completely over it and don't talk much about it anymore. It's all in the past for them.

@milopottz (I know we don't interact but 👀)

Tag people if you want, so

Also @alifeasvivid and @anyone who wants to

#whew! long post over #long post #tagged #usuk #ukus #this was fun though

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insomniac-dot-ink · 5 years ago

Text

Garden Walk

Genre: supernatural horror

Words: 3.7k

Summary: a young woman sees a figure strolling the gardens making an odd sound.

Ko-Fi ⭐Patreon ⭐ WordPress⭐Twitter

Content warning: slight blood and injury

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There’s something eating the bees.

You read about the bees disappearing all the time in the papers and on the news every few years in big investigative reports. Usually, it’s all the same alarm and studies about colony collapse and human pesticides and disease spreading rapidly through hives. I know all that and I’m sure it’s real and dangerous and one of the many ways we’re hurting the planet.

But this is different. I know it is, I feel it in my gut and under my skin and throughout my nerves with this itchy burn.

I like to go to the library on my days off. I work in a Bath and Body works shop so my hours are pretty random and my days off vary from week to week.

Still, I usually managed to make time once a week to hop downtown and go to the Fairfield Public library. I either walked when it was nice out or took the bus or Georgia used to drive me when we were together.

I went a lot more often that spring. I was in the process of getting over a nasty breakup and it was hard to be alone in my apartment. After you live with someone for so many years being alone in your own home can feel almost… like a punishment. You have to kill your own spiders in the corner and unclog your own drains and feed yourself old Mac and Cheese with no one to really care.

It was a difficult breakup to say the least and left this ache in my chest that I couldn’t get rid of, but managed to ignore most days. Distractions helped, so I went to the library.

Fairfield Public Library is this massive place that they renovated a couple years ago with new wings and a fresh paint job and better air conditioning. The bathrooms still had weak hand dryers and there was never enough chairs, but they did install some gorgeous immense windows in the central seating area. They’re ceiling-to-floor panels that let in gallons of sunshine that soak the floor and give the whole plan an almost enchanted feel. Some days I would just go in and walk beside them for long minutes with my hand trailing in the light.

The windows weren’t my favorite part of the library though. The inside still smelled a little dry and musty and they kept the temperature too cold for my liking. My favorite part of the library were the gardens outside.

There was a river that ran behind the library and a good acre of land spanning from the back of the building up to the edge of the water. In between the two was a complex public garden. Macy Dickson was one of the librarians and she would talk my ear off about how they used native Iowa plants and local plant fertilizer and set-up hummingbird feeders and plants that ladybugs liked.

I nodded along, but I wasn’t exactly an outdoors kind of person in the way Georgia had been. Most plants looked the same to me, and I was prone to stepping in poison ivy and itching for weeks and accidentally pissing off local Canadian geese and being chased.

These gardens were friendly though, easy. The bushes were low to the ground and the plots held sturdy herbs and a few flowers popping up depending on the time of year. A path wound in and out of red oak trees and honeysuckles and bird feeders until it made its way to a rock garden with stone benches facing it. I would take a deep breathe there, sit, and attempt to feel whatever it is you’re supposed to feel when you’re outside surrounded by tweeting birds and wildlife sounds. I was never very good at being calmed by ocean noises or wind in the trees or anything like that, but to be fair I was never really calmed by anything. I had nervous habits like washing my hands too much and picking at my skin and applying hand sanitizer every few hours like clockwork.

Maybe those were all the things Georgia couldn’t stand. I didn’t know.

Either way, sometimes that long walk out by the red trees and shrubbery did me good.

It was on a Wednesday in the middle of the week and the dreary weather had broken out into warm air and thin blue skies, I finally got to wear my strappy sandals again and walked all the way to the library. I was going through a reading period that my therapist might classify as “regression.”

One day I had been crying in the nonfiction aisle next to a true crime series and the next moment I found myself inching to the kids section. I crept into the bright wing as if in a sleep-walk and looked over the colorful covers of dragons and a boy and his dog and kids running from spooky shadows and little witches and I picked up a handful of kids chapter books.

I started reading all the books of my youth: Anne of Green Gables, Little House on the Prairie, Nancy Drew, and Hardy Boys.

I read through them like you shake an old friend’s hand and there was something comforting about the non-threatening stories and consuming words of my youth. Of course, being a grown woman who was almost thirty reading children’s books… didn’t make me feel great.

I dashed into the kids section of the library that Wednesday and picked out two stories: Ella Enchanted and the Princess Academy. There was something so sweet and feminine about the titles that had me swiping them up and carrying them off like a burglar in the night.

I visited the nonfiction section next and picked out a book called “The Knife Man” about historical surgeries and went on my way. I had been padding my check-outs with serious books so the librarians wouldn’t give me funny looks.

In all honesty, the librarians and patrons and everyone I passed probably didn’t care in the least. But I was a nervous person. And sometimes my brain played tricks on me and told me that everyone was staring or thinking thoughts about me and noticing everything I did.

I didn’t make eye contact with librarian as she checked-out my “princess” texts and I slipped outside to the gardens to read in private. I may not have found solace in nature per say, but I did find solace in being alone there. I wondered up the white gravel path past the daffodils and beds of sage.

I sighed into the sweet air and turned to go to my favorite bench with a chunk missing from one of the arms. And then I froze. There were three teens loitering at my bench and they were all on their phones and sometimes glancing up at me.

I clutched my books a little tighter and, as if attached to a string, turned fluidly away from my usual bench and walked up toward the river. I didn’t know where I was going, but I just didn’t want to seem like I was lost or put-off by the teens.

Teens were the worst. They always looked like they knew things and were always exchanging whispers and furtive glances- none of which helped my state of mind. I did feel silly, being scared away like that, but the river was full and glittering and it almost felt worth it.

It took me a second but I found a large stone to sit on and got out of one of my books. I told myself this was better and it was good to switch things up. The afternoon passed in slow honeyed hours as I ate up one book after the next in a way that finally let my nerves rest. I could get lost there, forever, in those other worlds.

I only stopped when I noticed that the sun had gotten low on the horizon and the shadows were winding and long, and I realized I was very hungry.

I dusted myself off, stretched my stiff legs and arms, and turned back toward the library and the gardens. That’s when I saw him.

“Him” is the wrong word, but so is every other word for it.

He stood on the path several feet away with the sun at his back. The path runs right beside the river and the area is usually empty since it’s at the very back of the garden and tends to accumulate trash like empty soda cans, lost plastic bags, and coffee cups and is not as pretty.

It was just me and the tall figure.

He was skinny, and gaunt and I squinted at him for a moment because he seemed even taller than my father who was 6’4. The figure wore a long jacket despite the nice weather and had a wide-brimmed hat that made his face disappear entirely. It was the type of hat you might see on farmers or adventures, beige and stiff and there was a loose string hanging beneath the chin. He had long, tangled brown hair that fell past his shoulders and hung lankly by his face in greasy clumps.

The fellow was slowly ambling forward, taking loud thunking steps down the path with these hulking dirty boots that were even larger than the rest of him. Something about him unnerved me deeply. He was too tall and he moved too slowly, too clunkily, as if he was gradually moving some great weight. I would even say he was limping, but there were no visible signs he was actually staggering or missing a beat. It was just off.

He wore gloves and I couldn’t see an inch of his skin.

My shoulders rose like the haunches of a cat as I realized he was moving closer and I quickly turned to leave. I heard it as I was striding back toward the building: whistling.

A noisy and bombastic whistling that drilled through me into my core and left a smear there. It was an un-melodic messy tune I couldn’t place. I picked up speed and nearly fell all the way back to the nearest parking lot and other people.

At the time I didn’t know why I thought “other people,” because the man was obviously just someone out on a stroll. But I thought it all the same.

-----------------

I was able to put the man out of my head for a good while. Our stores general manager position opened up and I was up for consideration, though I’m not sure I really wanted it. I was busy taking on extra hours and making sure my cashiers and floors people actually showed up for their shifts and lady’s in floral dresses didn’t make my workers regret showing up.

That sort of thing.

It must have been a month into proper spring when I finally returned. I got a day to myself and my apartment still didn’t feel welcoming or soft. It was always missing something and the ache was just as hungry as before.

I thought about her often. I wondered if Georgia was still making her famous quiche and bragging about her latest road trip she had planned but would probably never take and coloring her toenails a brilliant red color. I had hated the chemical smell of that nail polish during her weekly retouch, but now I missed it in a way you miss snowstorms in the lean months of summer. The hole in my chest gnawed at me and I entered the library and collected three titles: The Girl Who Swallowed the Moon, Julie of the Wolves, and a medical text detailing the history of malaria.

My eyes darted around to check that no one thought this was weird and then I slipped outside so I could breathe properly. I found my usual bench unoccupied and took a seat.

I ate the books up like a hot meal at your family’s house and was even smiling into the glaring sunlight when a whistling came. It was noisy and tuneless and entered my head space like a sharp thorn.

I jerked my head up and looked left and right to find a tall man with a long jacket and dirty lank brown hair standing in the gardens.

My mouth became very dry and the light was slanting in just the right way so that I could see his face this time. He was wearing these thick, black sunglasses and had a haggered look and very stiff expression.

The worst part about him beside the hellish whistling though was the faint color of his skin. I had seen it in medical texts. Ever since I was a little girl I had a fascination with illness and germs: I hated them, reviled them, detested stink and mess and the idea of tiny creatures that could wiggle inside me unnoticed and change my body in ways I couldn’t control.

But something drew me to stare at pictures of illness over and over again as if maybe looking alone could protect me. That if I read enough about smallpox and studied enough pictures of dengue fever that I could break their power over me.

I’m not sure if it ever worked, but I had one thought as I stared at the man and his yellowing frayed complexion: jaundice. It was the exact same off-yellow complexion that no healthy human being sports.

I scooted to the edge of my bench in order to get up and quickly hurry along, but the figure stopped in place. He was still out of reach and I had time to leave, but somehow I couldn’t tear my eyes away, in the same way I couldn’t look away from bubonic plague depictions.

He was standing by this wooden lattice work that held vines working their way toward the sun. He was humming his same terrible song and looking down.

I didn’t notice the bee until he put his hand out and the fat yellow creature was scooped into his palm. I didn’t usually notice the bees flying around with their complex paths and busy work that filled them with this determination to be on their way. I liked bees in that way, not just in the “helps the planet” way but how they always looked like they were on a mission.

Me and the man stood there and stared at the fuzzy yellow creature for what must have been a whole minute.

And then the man’s jaw dropped open and he crushed the tiny bee into his mouth and swallowed. I say “dropped” because his jaw shouldn’t have opened like that and it shouldn’t have closed like that either.

It was far too wide, his cheeks too concave, the skin too thin, and there was something crooked about the angle- as if the jaw wasn’t connected in a solid way. He had just gaped open his mouth into a black hole and ate the bee.

My heart squeezed painfully in my chest and eyes went huge. His head slowly tilted up as if to look at me and I didn’t stick around for him to really stare. I turned and fled down the path and as far away as I could possibly get.

I tried reporting it to library security and told the guard some man was eating things he shouldn’t outside, but the statements were dismissed and I could tell were not going to be followed up on it. I went home with that same eerie droning whistle playing in my head.

I had seen something eating the bees.

----------------

I tried to be rational.

It took several days, but I eventually smoothed out the jitters and settled into a type of shame-faced guilt. I wished I could have talked the events through with Georgia, but we had agreed on a “no communication” policy for the first few months.

I decided it was just another case of my nervousness and over imagination messing things up. The man at the library was obviously a very sick person who needed help. He was eating bees from a garden after all and his skin was an unnatural yellow. I kept replaying in my head how a “proper” adult would have handled the situation: how I should have went over to gently talk to him or called some sort of hospital.

I gave myself a good talking-to and two weeks later I resolved to visit the library again. It was one of my favorite places and I figured if I saw him again I would try to reach out or get one of the staff to intervene.

It was a proper weekend for once and after I got my three books I went outside and my normal bench was taken by a family. I edged away, shuffling past the wild ginger and squirrels high in a tree and the disturbed rock garden and up the hill to the river.

The path by the river was empty and sunny until I reached the water itself. The figure was there. He was turned away, low to the ground, and facing the plants.

I gulped with great effort and any thought of trying to do the “right” thing went out of my head as I heard the horrible whistling tune once more. He was kneeling next to a Goatsbeard bush, Goatsbeard is a wide thick plant that holds several long white plumes of tiny flower heads.

His gloved hand was hovering over a resting bee on one of the white flowers.

It struck me at that instant that I knew what was about to happen and I really really didn’t want it to. The thought of his thing opening it’s gaping mouth and swallowing that bee was too much for me and prospect of watching it happen again was even worse.

I didn’t think. I just acted.

“Sir!” I used my voice even though it sounded too loud and too forceful in the still air and the quiet whistling still shivered through my spine. “You don’t have to do that. Sir!”

He ignored me and brought his face closer to the insect. My books dropped from my hands to the path. I was running, my hand out and heart pounding as he had scooped up the bee and I couldn’t stand it. It’s bright yellow body was stark against his brown glove and he held it in place as his lips started to part.

“Stop.” I must have stumbled because I lurched forward and fell toward him. I caught myself with the toe of my shoe, but my fingers brushed against his cheek. I’ll never forget the way his skin felt.

My fingers just barely touched the flesh. It was hard though, like cement or marble, there was no give and was cool to the touch. Most of all it was bumpy, bump after bump of puckered skin like running your hand over a warped building wall or a terrible pustule-ridden rash.

The sensation of the bumpy skin was just for moment before one of his enormous hands darted up with quick efficiency and took my wrist in a hard grip. I gasped and he stood up to his full impressive height and grinned.

It wasn’t a grin with his teeth and I still couldn’t see his eyes behind his dark black glasses, but that smile was all I needed to confirm the worst. “Mmph!” I yelped, but not very loudly. I was never very good at yelling, even when I was a child and found a dead raccoon in the backyard or needed to shout at my dad when to turn on the road.

It just yelped once and then stared in rapt terror as my stomach dropped and whole world compounded into that second.

My hand looked tiny in his and the whistling hadn’t stopped. I was close enough at that point that I belatedly realized there was no way he could have been using his mouth to make that noise.

His mouth opened ever so slightly and the sound erupted from inside him and it wasn’t whistling. His thin yellow lips peeled back to reveal rows of sharp teeth, but not blunt teeth or canines or incisors. They were all sharp white shards- like that of broken glass or pieces of bleached wood chips.

They were all slightly different sizes, thin and long and coming into narrow points that hurt just to look at. As he opened his jaw in that unhinged crooked way I heard the sound clearly: a buzzing coming from within him. An unmistakable, low buzz that you hear from TV static. And bees.

It seemed to surge from somewhere deep inside him like a nest of tangled angry sound flooding from his core. It had a frantic quality. Like it was trying to escape.

The waves of humming grew louder and louder as his mouth expanded and I barely registered as he brought my hand up. I broke out of my stupor at the sight of his needle teeth leering toward my skin and tried to pull back with all of my force. I furiously kicked him in the shin, but he didn’t so much as flinch and my toe stung from contact with that same unyielding hard flesh.

He held my wrist firm and his face drew closer and closer with those those same slow deliberate movements. The points of his teeth delicately dug into my fingertips, the ones that had touched him, and a bright spike of pain crashed over me. I think I finally managed to scream.

It was a sticky blur as I lost those fingertips. I do remember the blood running down his yellow chin and spilling down his neck in a steady trickle.

I fell to the ground in shock and my next memories were waking up in a hospital with bandages over the middle and pointer fingers of my right hand. The pad of each was gone.

I shook violently and called Georgia without hesitation. She came right away and drove me home in silence, not forcing me to talk or bring up the future police reports and descriptions I might have to give. We might even be friends again after that first week, I’m not sure.

The police investigated but found no man with that description by the library. The only evidence I had was that the librarians had records of less and less bees visiting their gardens recently.

But nothing more.

I think I’m moving out of Fairfield soon. I think I’ll move somewhere with less gardens and more cement and people everywhere and get a roommate and big dog and start renting my books from online.

There is something eating the bees.

--------------

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#supernatural #horror #writing #story #original story #creepy/#my work #cw: blood #cw: injury

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vmheadquarters · 5 years ago

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We’re still playing our game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors are taking turns to tell a Veronica Mars mystery story. Each writer crafts their chapter and then “tosses” the story to the next person to continue the tale. No one knows what will happen, so expect the unexpected!

Follow the “vmhq presents” and “murder we wrote” tags for all the installments, or read the story as it develops on AO3. --Chapter Twenty of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @beezlebobble. And stayed tuned next week for Ch.21 from @DRiver2u - tag, you’re it!

—————————————————————————————————— CHAPTER TWENTY by @beezlebobble a/k/a orionseyes

“Wallace!” Veronica exclaimed as she hobbled as quickly as possible, clutching Logan’s arm. Logan dropped her hand as he raced over to the staircase to bend down and check Wallace’s pulse. As Veronica finally neared, he helped her clumsily and painfully crouch down to check on any other injuries Wallace might have. The rest of the group huddled around a very still Wallace.

“He’s alive! But we’ll have to wait to find out if he’s broken anything. I don’t see signs of broken bones, but he must have hit his head and back pretty hard coming down that slide.”

“Looks like a wild ride. Wallace was Slip, Sliding, Away…Slip, Sliding, Away…” Dick crooned as Veronica reached out and smacked his nearest limb hard, which happened to be his leg.

And slide it was. What had been previously a normal, albeit ornately fussy, wood-paneled staircase, was now a long, slick, wooden slide. The steps had collapsed like a funhouse trick and Wallace had been taken completely by surprise.

“Dick, how can you?! Someone’s trying to kill us! And I might be next. They know I’m wearing my Louboutins and I can’t outrun them or walk in the snow! Anyway, they would get totally ruined. Oh God, I almost went upstairs to get something out of my bag, that could have been me! Walter’s unconscious, but I might have been killed!” Gia wailed as she turned and cast herself dramatically into a nearby Luke’s arms. He patted her back ineffectually while Susan and Carrie simultaneously rolled their eyes. They caught each other and started to giggle. Alexis sighed and clutched arms around her middle as she looked down on Wallace’s still form. Duncan and Cole hovered behind Susan and Carrie with concerned looks on their faces.

“For the last time you idiots, his name is Wallace! Veronica shouted. She glanced around the room and rubbed her chin, “This seemingly-luxurious mansion appears to have a ridiculous number of secret rooms and hidden mechanisms, like it was built for the stage or as a movie set. I think we need to figure out what exactly this house is, who owns it, and see if anyone can recall its history.” Veronica had that steely, intent investigator’s look in her eye that made Logan equal parts impressed and aroused. He reached out and pushed a wild lock of hair that had escaped from her ponytail behind her ear.

“Baby, this is why I love you. There isn’t a challenge you won’t face.” He stood up briskly and brushed his hands on his jeans. He then reached out a warm hand to help her rise to her shaky feet.

She gladly took it. It was a solid comfort and she realized that she looked forward to Logan actually being her partner in the future. “At some point, sweetheart, you’re going to have to find me something I can use as a cane. I’m not built for resting. Us Mars’ are hardy, peasant stock, not made for swanning on some low-slung couch like Gloria Swanson. Girls like me gotta give birth in the cornfields and get back to milking the cattle, you know.”

Logan grinned and bent down to sweep her off her feet. “Honey, you need to sit still for at least fifteen minutes while we gather our collective wits and sort this out. Let Daddy Logan make you nice and comfortable.” He carried her carefully back to the living area and deposited her on the plush, heavily upholstered sofa which had been moved aside for the mattresses.

“Hey Casey, you and Dick grab Wallace and move him out here. Lay him out on the mattress by the dining table and we’ll get to business,” Logan directed as he grabbed a blanket to lay over Veronica’s lap. “Wait here a second.” He got up and left the room. A minute later he returned hoisting a leather tufted ottoman that had been in the library.

“In case you want to move around and keep that foot elevated.” Veronica cupped his face and gave him a quick, tender kiss. She’d missed how much he was always taking care of her.

“OK, everyone, gather round! Mother Goose has some stories for you kiddies. First, let’s figure out this house situation. Has anyone heard of this house, been at this house, or known anyone else who has? You’re all Richie Riches, surely, some of you must have visited or heard something.”

“I have never heard of this place, and please don’t call me Shirley,” Dick piped up. Logan reached over and slapped him on the side of his head. “Ow, man, why did you smack me so hard?”

“Shut up and quit fooling around, Dick. There’s at least one dead man and multiple attempts on other people’s lives and you have to keep acting like a fucking donkey.”

Dick grumbled and plopped himself down on one of the mattresses. Everyone else had seated themselves around in a circle.

“My dad used to sail out this way sometimes, but I don’t think he landed on the island or knew the owners. I think I remember something about it being a hotel or inn?” Casey suggested.

“No, I don’t think it was a hotel. There are no exit signs, or a front desk, or a lobby. It doesn’t have that institutional, sterile feel. It feels like someone’s not-so-welcoming home,” Carrie stated. “I’m not sure if I could live here, but it looks like someone did. This island is not exactly inviting.”

“I think you’re right, but I guess it was long shot to think that any of us Southern Californians would have an idea about this place. If only we could boot up Mac’s computer or someone’s phone and try to find more info about this place.” Veronica mulled this over while she stroked the arm of the couch as she leaned back.

“If it helps, I was told that this place had been used for murder mysteries for a really long time. Like, maybe decades? That should help narrow down any search,” Mac offered.

“Did Jen know anything?” Veronica asked her.

“Maybe.” Mac shrugged. “She seemed like she had been doing this for a while, and that the house itself served that purpose for a lot of groups.”

“OK. First, we have to find Jen. For information and probably for her own safety. She might be in cahoots with the killer, or he might have already gotten to her. Regardless, she has info that we need. Second, we are partnering up if we need to leave this room, but otherwise staying put. I don’t think any of you are in cahoots with the killer, mainly because some of you are just not that clever. So that means, everyone keeps an eye on each other. We are all going to leave this island alive. Even Dick.” Dick glanced over and pointed both his pointer fingers at himself as if to say, who, me?

“We know that our suspect is a large male. He managed to drag Leo’s body in the snow to the stable. He tossed me off the balcony like a ragdoll. But it’s entirely possible that he’s just the muscle because the mastermind behind this must be our hostess!” Everyone in the circle nodded in agreement and Alexis shivered.

“The other thing we are going to do is figure out how many hidden rooms, cubbies, compartments are in this place. That means going room by room, tapping walls and pushing unusual looking panels, knots in the wood, carvings, knobs, handles, sconces, books in bookcases, and lifting statue-like things. You’ve all seen it in the movies, so use some of those as guides. I have a feeling our mastermind can’t resist watching us and is hiding somewhere in the recesses of this large, weird house.”

Logan leaned over and threw his arms around her. “My girlfriend is so smart and sexy. You all listen up. There’s no way we’re getting out without Veronica’s help.”

“Your girlfriend, huh?”

“Yup.” Logan popped his mouth to say. “The smartest, sexiest, peskiest girlfriend a lucky goofball like me could have.” He hugged her to him and kissed her firmly on her head.

“Unnnhhhh.” Everyone turned sharply around as Wallace moaned. He groaned again as he slowly sat up while clutching his head. “Oww, my head. Did the Hulk club me or something?”

Logan rushed over as Veronica looked gratefully at him. They truly were going to be a team and it made her heart almost burst to see him showing care for one of the most important people in her life.

“Now, Wallace, you need to be careful. I think you bumped your noggin pretty hard as you came sliding down.”

“Ugh, now I remember! I took the first step and the stairs just disappeared, and that was it.”

“OK, Wallace, you need to lay back down, you might have a concussion.” Logan tenderly helped Wallace lay prone as he gazed up at Logan with a bemused expression.

“Look at you, helping me. Veronica would be so proud.” He sighed and laid back as Logan covered him a soft, camel-colored throw.

“I am proud.” Veronica called out with a huge smile on her face, showing all the affection she felt for him. Logan turned towards her and grinned back. It felt so good to be in tune with each other. They were going to grow together and face whatever the fates would bring.

“I can’t stand it anymore!” Dick cried as he rushed past Casey and pushed him into Cole, who raced after him. He grabbed both handrails and yanked himself to the top of the landing. There was a cry from the next room.

“Yee-haw!” There were some squeaks and then a low rumble as Dick rolled from the base of the stairs into the living area and rose with a flourish. “Ta-da!” Casey took one look at him and took off for the stairs. The next few minutes were chock-full of sound of a flurry of idiots and donkeys racing up the slope that remained of the stairs and hurling themselves down.

“I’m hungry.” Gia whined. “I don’t want pop-tarts for dinner. I’ll just die if I don’t eat anything. My doctor says I’m anemic and should forage at least every two hours. I wonder if there’s anything paleo in this god-forsaken dump?”

“Right, we’re all hungry, but the food is being guarded by Madison's corpse. Do you really want to eat that?” Logan asked, looking around at the glum faces.

Dick chimed in. “I don’t care; if no one else does, we should go for it. Logan cooks a mean pasta. I mean, my doctor says I’m a growing boy and I gotta forage every hour.”

“But pasta is carbs!” Gia complained.

“Gia, god help me, just shut up for once. I think pasta is a safe bet and there’s probably enough down there to feed all of us.” Logan got up and pointed at Cole and Duncan. “You and you are coming with me. I’ll go into the pantry, grab supplies, and pass them to you. We all have to keep up our strength for what lies ahead.”

The three of them headed down to the basement as Veronica leaned back and sighed. This was not going to be easy. Her injury was going to make everything so much harder and really put her at a disadvantage against her two or possibly more hidden foes.

In her hideout, Della watched the screen closely and focused on Veronica. She did not trust that girl. She was always kind of skeevy. Look at the way she ordered Logan around. And he was literally waiting on her hand and foot. It really was disgusting. She would never make Logan do that. She would worship him, and cuddle him, and stroke his hair, and then make delicious pasta meals for him. Pasta, wait? That gave her an idea. She couldn’t do anything to what they were currently going to eat, but she could sneak down there after and prime some of their future meals. Hmm. This was going to be lots of fun. She had the perfect stuff to spike their food. She walked over to the small desk in the room and pulled on its only drawer. Inside was a bottle of just what the doctor ordered.

#veronica mars #veronica mars fanfic #vm fanfic #vmhq presents #murder we wrote #round robin

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anna-mator · 5 years ago

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How to Draw a Toon - (In-Progress) Fandom: Warner Bros, Looney Tunes, Disney, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, Rating: M Categories: M/M Relationships: (eventual) Bugs/Daffy Warnings: Language, moderate violence, cartoon violence, racism, Additional tags: friends to lovers, mystery, adventure

Somewhere in Toon Town, a rabbit sat uncomfortably in the only library in town. He was pouring over autobiographies of other Toons. Each chapter of every book began the same: humble beginnings with a chance of stardom. Most were poor, some were sheltered… every single one was literally drawn into their lives. Their family, their class, their religion, their politics; it seemed to be all predetermined. Whether it was intentional from the creator, or heavily influenced, he still wasn’t sure.

“Bugs?” A small voice spoke.

Bugs Bunny jolted, placing his hands over the piles of books he collected on instinct. He quickly regained his posture and settled his eyes on a soft-colored and familiar face. “Belle?” He asked, shocked.

Belle was hovering over him slightly with a few books in hand. “It is you… Did you need any help, Bugs?” She asked politely.

“Oh ehh… nah.” Bugs said, trying to keep some of the books from her view. “I’m all good here. Say ehhh… shouldn’t you be at like…. Disneyland or somethin’?” he asked.

At that, Belle laughed slightly. “Oh Bugs… just because I’m a Disney princess doesn’t mean they keep us all holed up in their theme parks. Plus, with all of the royalty checks, I don’t really need a job. I volunteer here.”

“Ah. I see. I didn’t mean to offend.”

“Not at all…” Belle said, then looked curiously at Bugs’ pile of books. “It looks like you’re about to check out the entirety of the Autobiography section.” She chuckled.

“Ahaha… just about.” Bugs said, suddenly feeling slightly nervous about her nosiness.

“All of them are Toons, too…”

Just then, Bugs had an idea. “Ah!” He exclaimed before he stood up and gently turned her away from his pile of books, “Actually, I’ve been watchin’ some kids recently and wouldn’t ya know it, I can hardly put ‘em to bed. If you could find me the very best fairy-tale book you can think of, I would be foreva in your debt.”

“Uh, sure.” Belle said with a weary tone.

Bugs didn’t like the sound of her voice. Once he believed Belle was out of earshot, he scrambled to gather his haphazard notes and supplies. “I gotta get outta here.” He said from under his strained breath.

When Bugs placed things away, he turned tail to find the closest exit. The rabbit managed to slip through a back door completely unnoticed. He found his car and sped off in a hurry. This kind of prodding had consequences. He had heard rumors of Toons going missing over stuff like this. Luckily, Bugs was smarter than that.

In truth, Bugs trusted no Toon nor Human with the kind of information he was gathering. It was starting to weigh on his conscience, and even take a blow to his general health. Typically, when a Toon became stressed it visibly showed. Bugs was no exception.

Which was why an hour later, with no one else to turn to, Steven Spielberg took a look at Bugs and simply said, “God you’re a mess.” He commented once he approached the Toon rabbit.

“Thanks, Doc.” Bugs said with a slight roll to his eyes. “You looked in the mirror lately, yourself?” He japed, commenting on the distracting and ugly anti-paparazzi gear Steven had on.

Deciding to ignore the comment, “Please tell me it’s not…” Steven asked, as he brought his shades onto the brim of his baseball hat.

“It’s not the kids. I can take care of ‘em jus’ fine.” Bugs shot Steven down immediately.

They walked down the sunny L.A. street, headed towards Griffith Park. They were both well aware it was the entrance to Toon Town. Still, the park itself was the only place that provided Bugs with any comfort.

“So… what did you bring me out here for?” Steven asked.

It took every ounce of energy Bugs had not to just start spouting out every tiny piece of information he had been gathering for the past six months. Instead, he took a breath and exhaled softly. “I’m over eighty years-old, mac. I’ve been repainted a dozen times and there’s no end in sight.”

Immediately, Steven knew exactly what Bugs was dealing with. It was obviously some kind of mid-life crisis, but a Toon equivalent. “Go on…” He prompted.

“So a few months ago, I got ta thinkin’... What else am I gonna do with my life? I can’t be slingin’ dynamite foreva. I already toured the world when I was younger… but I never learned anything!” Bugs cried out, “Sure the occasional script had some kind of historical tidbit, or a line from another language, but I still felt… uneducated.”

Steven was already connecting certain dots in his head, leading up to what Bugs wanted to say. Because of it, a small smile was beginning to inch onto his face. However, he continued to let the Toon speak.

“Then I realized… what if it ain’t just me? And as it turns out--”

“Eighty-seven percent of Toons are uneducated.” Steven finished and the smile vanished, ”And the number keeps growing every year. There isn’t a single school in Toon Town. If Toons want an education, they acquire it themselves or through scholarships the studios award.”

Bugs and Steven stopped and looked at one another. “I came to you nearly a decade ago... “ Steven started, feeling slightly irritated at Bugs.

Immediately Bugs cringed, “I know, I know!” he shouted, starting to move away from him. While he wanted to tell Steven more about his findings about Toon education, he decided to keep his mouth shut. Paranoia struck him again.

Still, Steven gave a small chase. “I asked repeatedly if you wanted to make Acme Loo into a real school, and you said there was no need. I gave you my pitch all those years ago, now give me yours.” He said in a harsh tone.

Bugs tugged on his ears before looking at Steven in the eyes again. “People love me, Toons idolize me… but for what? Bein’ the lucky one? Always comin’ out on top? What good is that when you can’t protect the ones you care about? I just… I want to give somethin’ back’.”

After hearing that, Steven was more than pleased. He gave a nod to Bugs, “Alright, I’ll help you. We’ll make Acme Loo.”

“Thanks, Doc.” There was still so much on Bugs’ mind, but he tucked it away for later. Right now, he allowed himself to relax and feel good about these life-changing decisions.

A year passes, and somewhere along the coast of Central America there was a lowly island on the horizon. With a closer look, anyone could see the stark-white mansion that stood nearly three stories tall.

Even as a young Toon, Daffy Duck had pictured his retirement from his acting career very vividly. He dreamed about being alone on a private island, with an enormous mansion and every luxury he could possibly think of. And wouldn’t you know it, after nearly a decade of work, few movies and a couple of reboots, Daffy had that private island. Staying there continued to be a blessing for many, many years. With the royalty checks and occasional paychecks from public appearances rolling in, he was able to upkeep the mansion very well.

Daffy’s desire for attention was somewhat satiated by social media. He had a big presence online and made sure everyone knew it. From when he woke up to when he was preparing for bed, he would cross post about every detail onto every feed. People ate it up, as they were fascinated by his lifestyle. While he wasn’t the richest duck in the world, he was certainly one of the most popular. At least, he was in his mind.

As Daffy was tweeting about his incredible breakfast one morning, he noticed one of his butlers carrying in some mail. “What’s the big idea? Checks go straight to my financial adviser, and fan mail without any valuables inside are shredded! You all know the deal!” Daffy barked. To his knowledge, he hadn’t been expecting anything either. Still, the butler came to his side and silently handed him a letter.

Before he could protest further, the Butler turned away. Daffy simply huffed to himself and opened the letter. He took his time to read it, just to make sure he was reading it correctly. Once he had finished he slammed the letter onto the counter top, and ran up the stairs towards his room in seconds flat.

He pressed his help buzzer multiple times and shouted into the speaker, “I need to pack, now! Book me a flight to L.A.! Let’s go people!”

It was time to move back to Los Angeles.

The next day, Bugs Bunny got out of his Oober (Toon Town’s Uber equivalent), adjusting his suit as he looked on towards his greatest accomplishment. A stairway from the curb stood Acme Looniversity. Despite seeing the building many times over the course of its production, Bugs still couldn’t help but feel his chest swell with pride at the sight of the finished school.

And there, in front of the entrance, he saw a huge crowd gather. This wasn’t even taking into account for all of the cameras and people lined up along the sidewalk. Not even the Toons who were celebrating in the streets. The crowd split like a wave as Bugs approached the doorway of the school, finding it partially blocked by a stage with a ceremonial ribbon. Bugs could tell it was painted because of how large and neat the bow in the middle of it looked.

As he approached he saw the only human at the event (besides a few brave reporters) Steven Spielberg, sitting beside the podium on stage next to three empty seats. Bugs’ felt slightly saddened by the sight of the empty chairs, still Bugs shared a smile with Steven before he approached the podium. A deafening silence went over the crowd, with all eyes on the Toon rabbit.

“My fellow Toons,” Bugs began, “For too long, we’ve been deprived of our own education. More than 87% of Toons have never stepped foot in a school that wasn’t a painted set. After learnin’ that, we decided that wasn’t fair.”

The crowd cheered and clapped for Bugs. Over the crowd he continued, “Our newcomers should know our history! They should know our culture!” He paused slightly to wait for the crowd’s enthusiasm to die down, “And they should know their limits.”

Bugs felt his stomach twist, “Too many Toons have been lost simply because they didn’t know how to survive their next fall durin’ a stunt. We owe it to them to inform newcomers of the risks. No one on Earth can do what we do, and we need to learn to do it right.”

Gesturing to the building behind him, “Now, thanks to Warner Brothers studios and Steven Spielberg, Acme Looniversity ain’t just a fantasy we all saw on TV all those years ago. It’s here for everyone!”

The crowd once again burst into applause and cheers. Bugs looked out into the crowd, noticing a slight disturbance that was making its way to the stage. He wasn’t the least bit surprised when Daffy Duck emerged from the crowd and began to crawl his way onto the stage, rather than using the stairs on the side.

Immediately, Daffy wormed his way in front of Bugs in order to speak into the microphone. “Helloooo, Toon Town!!” He shouted. The only sound he was met with was the sound of crickets. “As the Master of Deception, I just wanted to say what an honor it is to have been recruited by my longtime co-Star, Bugs, to teach at this wonderful place of edumication.”

Bugs saw the shifty eyes from the crowd when Daffy had mentioned his unofficial title. “Eeeh… We’re still workin’ on the curriculum.” He said, addressing the crowd. Then he turned to Daffy, knowing exactly how to derail him from hogging the spotlight. “Hey Daff, ol’ pal, wouldja wanna join me in the honors of cuttin’ the ribbon?”

Daffy’s head whirled around as he gave out a gasp, “Really? You’d let me cut the ribbon?” He asked.

“Togetha, yeah. It feels only right.” Bugs said, just to butter him up even more.

The two of them were approached by a Toon who held out comically huge a pair of golden scissors. They took the scissors, holding them open above the ribbon for a little longer so photos could be taken. After a minute, they looked at each other and cut the ceremonial ribbon. Daffy and Bugs posed briefly with the scissors that were nearly the same height as them.

Once they were done posing, Daffy turned to look for the first camera he could find. For Bugs, he turned to Steven and gave him his hand. “Thank you… So much. For everything.”

Steven shook his hand, “Anytime, Bugs. I have a lot of faith in you.” Then he gave a slight nod towards Daffy, “You sure about hiring Daffy, though?” He asked.

Bugs looked over and watched as Daffy chatted up the remaining reporters. “If there’s anything I’ve learned in the years we've worked together, it’s that I know how he ticks.”

“Well, it’s your call. It is your school, after all.” Steven said with a shrug.

“I’m gonna go check on ‘im. I’ll be seein’ ya, Steven.” Bugs said before slipping away.

Bugs hovered over Daffy’s shoulder while he spoke to a reporter. “And that’s when I told my buddy Bugs, the only way we’re going to reach today's Toon youth is through education! And what better teachers than the oldest Toons out there?” He said.

When he heard that, Bugs rolled his eyes. Of course Daffy would lie and make this his idea. Bugs decided to butt in. “We’re opening our gates to humans, as well.” He told them.

At that, more reporters surrounded them. A chorus of questions were being launched at Daffy and Bugs. While Daffy shied away, Bugs lifted his hands to quiet the small crowd. “I wanna stress this; Acme Loo is gonna be the only school to focus on the importance of learning about Toons. As citizens and as a species. So we ain’t gonna turn away humans who wanna learn more about us.” Bugs said.

A reporter’s voice spoke up, “Who else do you have in place as teachers? Any word about Mickey Mouse?” they asked.

“That hack—?” Daffy said before Bugs pinched his beak.

“Mickey sent us his best wishes, but regrettably makes no plans of joinin’ the staff.” Bugs said with a shrug.

Daffy rolled his eyes when he felt Bugs let go of his beak.

“As for the rest of the staff, we’re still lookin’. So if any Toon wants to come forward and apply, they’re free to do so on our website.”

“When does class begin? And what’s the class size going to look like?” The same reporter asked.

“We’re startin’ in the next coupla months, just in time for the school year. Dependin’ on how many teachers we get, we’re gonna be expecting anywhere between 500 to 900. Applications for students will also be online.”

“900?!” Daffy exclaimed. Just how was he going to teach to a class of 900?

Bugs sighed a little, knowing Daffy had misinterpreted his information. He turned to talk to him, “900 altogetha, Daff. We’re lookin’ at a class of 40 for each homeroom.”

“Oh.” Daffy said softly.

Then Bugs turned to the cameras, “No more questions now. Thank you!” He said and waved them away.

Disappointed, Daffy watched the reporters shuffle along and pack away their equipment. He had truly missed being in the limelight. Then a tap on his shoulder brought him out of his daydream-like state. “Huh?” He asked as he turned towards Bugs again.

“Ehh… Daff?”

“Yeah?”

Bugs sat there like he was fighting to say something. “I’ll uh… I’ll see you later. We’ll have to look over that curriculum of yours, before school starts.” He finally said.

“...Yeah sure.” Daffy said. After looking at Bugs more he noticed something was off, “You should get yourself a new paint job. You look awful.”

Bugs deflated angrily at the comment before rolling his eyes and turning away. He knew that, in Daffy’s twisted way, that he was concerned for his health. So he let the comment slide off of his back. The truth was, Bugs had never let go of his Toon research; and the paranoia had set in so much that it was starting to alter his appearance. He hoped that the success of Acme Loo would be both a distraction and a resource at his own disposal.

Later, after numerous phone calls and even a couple of live interviews, Bugs managed to find his way home. He paid and tipped his Oober as much as he was allotted, due to the fact that they had to travel out of Toon Town during rush hour. As Bugs approached the steps of his white porch, he loosened his bow tie and unlocked the door.

Bugs threw his keys on a stand next to the door, just before closing and locking it behind himself. Just as he was about to call out for someone, his long ears perked at the sound of rattling glass and plastic coming from the kitchen. Immediately, Bugs’ eyes darted towards a lowly baseball bat sitting in his umbrella holder in the foyer.

Quickly and quietly, Bugs’ removed his black blazer and rolled up his dress shirt sleeves. All the while his mind was racing: Where had he slipped up? Who was onto him? What kind of force would be pitted against him? All these questions burned inside him while he picked up the bat and held it tight and high. With as much stealth as possible, he rounded the kitchen corner. As he suspected, the figure hidden partially inside of his fridge wasn’t any of the kids.

The fridge began to close and the figure swerved around to meet Bugs. Several plastic containers dropped to the kitchen floor as they exclaimed, “Bugs?!”

Bugs brought down the bat, stopping it only inches away from Daffy’s beak. “Daffy?!” He exclaimed.

“What the hell, Bugs? Is that any way to welcome an old friend into your household?” Daffy barked while pushing the bat away from his face.

Only a few seconds later, Bugs and Daffy heard a stampede of footsteps coming from upstairs. Settling on the staircase, three Toons looked down on Bugs and Daffy. “Well what’d ya know, the old Duck has decided to grace us with his presence.” The tallest smiled.

“Daffy, darling!! We had no idea you were in town.” The smallest chimed with an obnoxious accent of some kind.

“Really? I mean, he tweeted out his entire trip…” The middle one said in a thick Liverpool accent.

Daffy looked on in surprise and awe. “The Warner’s?! What are you three hooligans doing here?” He asked with a wide smile.

Bugs put down the bat, leaning it against the staircase, and turned towards Daffy. “They’re stayin’ with me.” He said simply.

Sure enough, the three siblings of undetermined origins ran down the steps and gave Daffy a group hug. “You three look a little different than I remember…” he said, looking over Yakko, Wakko and Dot.

Yakko peeled away first, “Haven’t ya heard? We got a reboot comin’ in! Two whole seasons, so far.”

“You don’t say? An’ they gave you a repaint jus’ for that? Your designs were fine before.” Daffy said, a little confused.

“It’s standard now. Nothin’ we could really do about it.” Wakko said as he pulled away with a slight shrug.

Dot continued to cling to Daffy, looking up at him with her glossy black eyes. “You don’t think we look ugly, do you?” She asked, her lips trembling.

“Ugly?! Nonsense!!” Daffy exclaimed, picking up Dot into his arms and holding her tight. “You three are the sharpest lookin’ Toons I know. Anyone who says otherwise is blind.”

Bugs looked curiously at the way Daffy was interacting with the three. He didn’t remember them being particularly close, but he assumed that was simply the effect the three had on adults and Toons alike. Still, he was certainly enjoying seeing this other side of Daffy.

“Alright, you three.” Bugs finally interrupted, “How’s about givin’ Daff and I some space?” He asked.

“Yeah yeah…” Yakko said before turning back up the stairs.

“See ya later, Daffy!” Wakko waved and followed the oldest.

“Always nice to see you, Daff.” Dot said when Daffy put her down so she could follow her siblings.

Once the three were out of sight Daffy turned to Bugs, “Now, I know it might not be the most convenient thing for you at this time…” He explained, “But I’m certainly not the richest Duck in the world. I had to sell all eight of my estates to get that private island.”

Bugs move towards the kitchen and began to clean up Daffy’s initial mess. He already knew what Daffy was about to ask, and he already knew his answer. Still, he let his friend speak.

“Each estate had to go, including the two I had in L.A.! Honestly, the price for rent in this forsaken city is so damn high, I really don’t know how you do it!”

“You can stay.”

Daffy gasped and looked deeply offended, “You would throw out your own flesh and blood onto the street? I thought I knew you better, Bugs Bunny!”

“Ehh… we ain’t related, but you can still stay wit us.” He tried again.

Daffy started to walk towards the door with a dramatic flair, “Fine! I know when I’m not wanted—” He stopped as soon as he draped himself on the corner of the closest wall, “Wait… what? You’ll let me stay?” He asked, bewildered.

“Of course I will, Daff. We’ll be able to look over your curriculum togetha, you’ll be able to do some shoppin’ for the house, maybe a few chores and you’ll be able to watch the kids…” Bugs said, closing the fridge door to get a better look at Daffy.

At that, Daffy looked even more surprised. “Watch those kids? Chores? Me?” He asked.

“Well yeah! What? You’d think I’d let you stay out of the goodness of my heart?” Bugs asked, leaning on the island counter.

“Well… Yeah!” Daffy exclaimed, manhandling the other side of the counter. Here he thought he could take advantage of Bugs’ feelings of existentialism and sudden generosity to fully weasel his way into staying with Bugs with zero obligations. But apparently this rabbit had other plans for him.

Bugs simply laughed in Daffy’s face. “Ahaha, oh that’s rich, Duck.” he laughed. Then there was a slight pause, “When are you gonna realize, we ain’t so different? You and I…”

Daffy and Bugs sat in silence for a little bit. Something about Bugs’ smug look made Daffy’s face feel warmer than usual underneath his feathers. He shook his head wildly. “Nope. I don’t see it.”

At that, Bugs simply rolled his eyes. “We can split chores in the mornin’... right now I just want to hit da hay.” He said, peeling himself off of the counter and moving to unbutton his dress shirt.

While Bugs navigated past the living room, Daffy gave a slight chase. “Wait, wait. I just gotta know one more thing,” then a slight pause, “okay a couple of things.”

A small sigh came from Bugs, then he decided to plop down onto the living room sofa. “Alright. A coupla questions.” He said, putting his feet up.

Daffy sat in a recliner adjacent to Bugs. “How’d you end up with the Warners?” He asked, his voice a little hushed in case they were being heard.

“...I was visiting the new set last year.” Bugs began to explain, “Steven told me that he was concerned about rumors that the Warners were livin’ in their trailer. No one was allowed to go near it. They even wrote up a contract about it, saying they’d leave the show if anyone on staff visited it. Because I wasn’t in the show, I could see the trailer for myself.”

The memory was still vivid in Bugs’ mind. A little more than a year ago, Bugs shared a weary glance with Steven before he slipped off the set. With the Warners busy in a scene, Bugs was able to make it to the trailer. And with a copy of the trailer key given to him by Steven, he pried it open.

The mess the three had accumulated was even taller than Bugs’ ears. He honestly didn’t know how anyone could navigate the trailer, let alone three Toons. Even as he was inside, he made an attempt to clean what he could. Still, it was a horrible mess.

After doing what he could, Bugs waited outside the trailer until the Warners began to approach it. Yakko was the first to catch eyes with Bugs, before rolling them. “God damn it…” Yakko groaned, seeing the look of disapproval spread across the rabbit’s face.

“Y’all really live in dere?” Bugs asked.

It was Wakko’s turn to be angry, “Yeah! What’s it to ya?” he barked.

“Guys, I’m jus’ concerned. A lot of the staff are concerned. Steven was even worried!” Bugs exclaimed, watching them weave around him and head into the trailer.

“Yeah? Well we don’t need your pity.” Dot snapped.

Bugs stopped the door from being slammed in his face with full force. The trailer door swung open and Bugs stepped inside once more. “Fine then. Lemme give you a place to stay. Eva since you were created, I’ve always told you guys you were welcome at my house!” He said.

“We’ve been fine on our own, Bugs. Didn’t need your help then, don’t need it now.” Yakko said. “Any day now, the show will air, we’ll get another wave of royalty checks and we’ll be livin’ it up in a mansion down the street from yours.”

“Those checks will only stretch so far. You already know this.” Bugs warned.

“Blah blah blah I learned my lesson. Like I said, I don’t need to stay at yours. I’m comfortable here.” To make his point, Yakko cleared off some space on the couch (which also acted as their bed) in the trailer and found his ideal position.

Immediately Bugs read this type of prideful attitude. He also knew where Yakko’s weak points were. “If you don’t do it for yourself, do it for your siblings.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Bugs saw Dot and Wakko perk up and look over at Yakko silently. Yakko sat up from the couch slowly and looked at Bugs with a hardened expression. “You’ve got a whole lotta nerve, rabbit.”

“And you’ve got a whole lotta attitude, kid.” Bugs snapped back.

And with that, Bugs took them in. Presently, he looked at Daffy across the way and gave a slight shrug. “I’ve always seen a lot of myself in Yakko. Scrappy, independent and plenty mature for his age. It took him the longest to adjust here and for me to adjust to him, honestly. That boy doesn’t let me lift a finger for ‘im. His siblings? Sure. When it comes to him? No way, no how.”

“Interesting.” Daffy finally said.

Feeling exhausted, “Any otha questions?” Bugs asked.

“Yes! Where do I sleep?”

Bugs got up from the couch and beckoned Daffy to follow him. Down the hall there were three doors. On the left side there was a white door with a gold star labeled Bugs Bunny in black lettering. Though, something told Daffy that it wasn’t his original master bedroom. The middle door was left open, so Bugs pushed in further and flipped on a light to reveal a bathroom. “Here’s the bathroom…” he announced, then pushed open the door on the right side of the hallway. “And here’s your room. G’night, Daff…”

Before Daffy could say anything else, Bugs slipped away into his bedroom and shut the door. “Night.” Daffy said more to himself. He maneuvered himself inside the bedroom and pulled out a suitcase from his Toon space. He flicked on the light and looked around, the decor was still predominantly white with the same hardwood floor that echoed through the house.

Daffy placed his suitcase on a chair sitting across from the bed and launched himself directly onto the comfortable mattress. It was something akin to a bed from a five-star hotel: soft as a cloud. It didn’t take long for Daffy to fall into a deep sleep.

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NEXT CHAPTER >>

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A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! It was a struggle but I’m happy with it and I can’t wait to continue. <3333

#looney tunes #baffy #my fanfiction #htdat

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reyesstrand · 5 years ago

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Tag Game!!

@ao3theskyisblue thank you for the tag, this gave me a much-needed break from online schoolwork!! 💗

1. What was the last movie you watched in theatres? Birds of Prey!! Before that I caught Parasite when it was re-released in theatres before the Oscars!

2. What’s your favourite game to play? I’m very boring and don’t play much besides classic board games, so I have to say Scrabble aksjdsdfks

3. Chocolate or vanilla? Oooh tough one, but probably chocolate.

4. What’s the last show you binge-watched? I feel like I’ve always got a show on the go, but the last one I fully binged was Tiger King with my family, and The Other Two right before that.

5. Do you have any pets? I do! A gentle giant, three-year-old rescue dog! She’s a Great-Pyrenees/Retriever mix, and is appropriately named Elsa.

6. What’s your favourite fairy tale? Hmmm, I remember reading The Little Red Riding Hood a lot as a kid, so let’s go with that!

7. Who’s your favourite superhero? This is a difficult one, but I’d probably have to say Thor, honourable mentions to She-Hulk, Falcon and the whole Young Avengers team from my teenage comic-reading phase.

8. Who’s your favourite Disney princess? I adored Jasmine as a kid, so either her, Mulan or maybe Rapunzel.

9. Where’s the first place you’re going to go after the social distancing is over? Hopefully to see a movie (whenever most of them are re-scheduled to be released lol) or back to my job when they re-open.

10. Cookies or cake? Ooh, I’ve gotta go with cake, I think. Especially on special occasions.

+10 questions

1. Which show could you watch over and over? Let’s see...definitely Schitt’s Creek, especially when it ends in a couple weeks (cut to me crying) and I can re-watch the whole series; 9-1-1 Lone Star (because of course), The Get Down, Fleabag, Veep, Black Sails, and Bob’s Burgers.

2. Favourite song lyric? It’s impossible for me to just pick one, so here’s some favourites from a few songs:

“I buried a hatchet, it’s coming up lavender, / The future’s unwritten, the past is a corridor, / I’m at the exit, looking back through the hall, / You are anonymous, I am a concrete wall” — Phoebe Bridgers, “Smoke Signals”

“Hold my hand and float back to the summer time, / Tangled in the willows, now our tongues are tied, / How can I believe you, how can I be nice? Tripping round tree stumps in your summer smile” — Glass Animals, “Gooey”

“So if I feel real good tonight, / I'm gonna put it high on the loudspeaker, / If I feel like crying, I won't hide it / I am a loudspeaker” — MUNA, “Loudspeaker”

“Be as you've always been (Lover, be good to me), / Be like the love that discovered the sin (Lover, be good to me), / That freed the first man and will do so again, / And, lover, be good to me (Lover, be good to me), / Be that hopeful feeling when Eden was lost (Lover, be good to me)” — Hozier, “Be”

3. Favourite season of your favourite TV show? This one’s difficult too! Ah! I really love seasons 3 and 4 of Schitt’s Creek, and I of course love the only (for now) season of Lone Star, so I’ll go with those choices as I can’t think of anything else right now!!

4. What never fails to make you smile/happy? Watching the sunset while reading a good book. My dog. Cooking. And I have to agree with @ao3theskyisblue — getting any AO3 notification makes my day brighter every time, without fail, and I want to thank anyone who’s ever even interacted with my fics because it brings me so much joy!!

5. How are you doing with all that’s going on in the world (virus, having to do social distancing, etc)? I’m very much so introverted, so staying in is something that I normally find myself doing. I feel very grateful of my privilege in being able to stay home with my family and knowing everyone in my personal circle is healthy, though I do feel spikes in my anxiety whenever more news comes out. I’m stressed right now with how many school assignments I have, on top of participating in online lectures/seminars, but there’s only a couple weeks left of that so I’m pushing through!!

6. We all love new music to listen to, name an artist that is underrated/you think people should check out? boygenius!! FKA twigs!!! Christine and the Queens!! Perfume Genius!!

7. TV show or movie? Yet another tough one!! I have to say both, here, I love them for different reasons!

8. Favourite holiday? I generally enjoy Halloween for the movies and weather, and I’d have to also say Christmas even though I’m not religious, I just love getting to have time to see my whole family and relax from school!

9. A song that describes you? This is very difficult and something I haven’t thought of before...going through my music library now, though, I’ve always felt a pull toward Landslide by Fleetwood Mac for the sentimental value since I was younger so I suppose I’d go with that. But I’m definitely going to keep thinking of another answer!!

10. Describe your tumblr in three words? Side-blog, writing, and (hopefully) welcoming!

+5 questions

1. What is your favourite hobby? Writing, reading, cooking, discovering new movies/tv shows.

2. What is your favourite book? Or/and a really good book you’ve read recently? Okay, so, I’m an English major and read lots of old books for my classes and I recently haven’t had much time for reading for pleasure (sadly), but I’d recommend The Goldfinch by Donna Tart, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong, and The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller!

3. What is your favourite ship that will never happen (or hasn’t happened yet)? Oh boy, I guess FinnPoe from the recent Star Wars movies?

4. If you could spend the day with any living celebrity, who would it be? I feel like I have so many possible answers! Dan Levy would be amazing, so would Natacha Karam, Florence Pugh, Taika Waititi, Tessa Thompson, Janelle Monae...I could go on lol!!

5. The best worst movie you’ve ever seen. A movie that you know objectively is trash but you can’t help but really enjoy it. The first thing I thought of were the live-action Scooby Doo movies from the early-2000s that my sister and I recently re-watched on a whim and I think that has to be my answer askjsdfks

Questions by @ao3theskyisblue

1. What is one thing you’ve recently watched/read that left you absolutely heartbroken? Oh, definitely the documentary I watched on migrant workers in Canada for a class the other day.

2. An activity (e.g., hobby, sport...etc) you wish you were better at? I would love to be able to draw/paint better!!

3. If you could stop time for 24 hours, what would you do? It’s very boring to say, but catch up on sleep!!

Questions by @reyesstrand

1. What is your all-time favourite movie?

2. If you could have any superpower, what would it be?

3. If you could alter any questionable plot point from a tv show or movie, what would it be?

Feel free to try this out, if you’d like, or haven’t already! @tkstreyes @cateyesinlove @summerfiing @tylerkennedysstrand @aziraphalescrowley @hcnkycat @anadearmsa @lonestarbabe @evaneddie @hawkeeyes @oscarissaac @brillliantbanshee @derek-shepherds & anyone else who wants to!

#tag games #about me

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daysiias · 4 years ago

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{ zendaya ♔ 24 ♔ she/her } well, well, well if it isn’t daysia collins running around peach hollow. legend has it, they come from tangerine towers and have lived here for six years. if you’re wondering what they’ve been up to, i hear they’re a crisis counselor for a living. they have been known to be quixotic yet nurturing. a word of advice to them, always look over your shoulder. you never know who is watching. { kim ♔ 25 ♔ est ♔ she/her }

yall know me. i’m kim, i play serenity, and i’m one of the admins!! this is my damaged but optimistic baby, daysia. ITS PRONOUNCED LIKE DEJA VU :’) i just created her in november but she so quickly became my favorite muse to write. so buckle up! and pls plot w me. i am fragile and if i don’t get any plots i will hide in a dumpster, where i belong.

TW FOR DEATH, DRUG USE, ALCOHOLISM, CAR ACCIDENT

here is her pinterest and a spotify playlist if you wanna check those out ~

daysia jade, day, dj, deej – anything goes. she’s 23 and will turn her head to just about anything. she’s a spring baby born march, 1996.

her childhood was pretty good. she and her brother grew up a year apart, and her parents divorced early. early enough that daysia can barely remember a time where the family was hole, and likes it that way.

however, her father did not take the divorce well and turned to drugs – meth to be specific. he only saw the kids on weekends and even then, daysia and marcus absolutely knew what was happening. perhaps they didn’t know his choice of poison, but they knew that it was just that: poison.

he was never abusive and always took care of the kids, even if he was tweaking out of his mind. there were a few instances that were touch and go, like when he forgot to take dinner out of the oven and it caught fire, or when he forgot to change the sheets – little things that added up.

when daysia was 16 and marcus was 15, they were involved in a car accident. her dad was high behind the wheel, lost control of the car, and they hit the guard rail. they went over an embankment and down a short hill before the vehicle came to a complete stop, flipped over. she watched the life drain from her brother’s face, and never got into a car again, up until recently when she started letting @malcolmvramsey drive her places she needed to go. she always tries to give him gas money, but he rarely takes it.

a good deal of resentment built up for her father, but she remained stoic, even when he went to prison for drug charges and the dui he’d racked up that ultimately killed her brother. she didn’t let anyone know that she was hurting, because she numbed it all. she threw herself into her school work and her artwork, painting constantly. melting colors together somehow helped her cope. she could get her emotions out on paper. in fact, that still rings true today. in her bedroom of the apartment she lives in, she has covered one of the walls in canvas and paints over and over.

in an effort to start life over, daysia left detroit when she graduated high school. she transferred to peach hollow where she went to winchester university, not wanting a lot of attention. this is where she really came to life.

daysia was able to push michigan to the back of her mind entirely, because peach hollow had so much to offer. the people were better. the music was better. the parties were better. the education was better. there wasn’t a single thing she missed from home aside from her mother, who she kept in regular contact with and still does. they’re always texting and facetime before bed every night.

she came alive. college changed her. she was studying a subject that interested her and meeting people who didn’t have to know about her past. she did, and does everything to keep michigan her dirty little secret. she liked the party scene, but only drank or smoked weed. she refuses to touch anything that might turn her into her father. she was even hired on as a crisis counselor for a local hotline, contractual to her graduation.

in the past month, daysia has plummeted, however. nobody would ever be able to tell. she is the queen of poker face, an absolute delight to be around. she can be a little aloof, and is constantly stoned, but it’s how she gets through the day. she is an absolute goof, loves to crack jokes and make people laugh. she loves to laugh herself. these are all traits that show and cover the inner turmoil constantly trying to bubble to the surface.

about three weeks ago, daysia received word that her father passed away in jail. he overdosed, and she wasn’t sure how to feel. so she didn’t. she did, however, stop doing school work and started drinking more. she’s mere days from flunking out of school and losing her job. but nobody knows, because she acts like she doesn’t know either.

all in all, she’s doing a lot of self sabotage but covering it up with every ounce of grace she has.

as for her personality and relationships, daysia excels. she is nurturing, so when a friend, or even a stranger is hurting, she tends to go to their side and comfort them. as long as she can make them laugh, then everything will be okay. she makes friends pretty easily, and keeps them for the most part. she is fiercely loyal and will absolutely scrap to defend her loved ones.

she loves love. there is no gender she isn’t curious about and absolutely loves romance, though she also tries to hide that. her walls are ten feet tall. she’s in to hook ups, flings, and polyamory. she’s very open in that sense!!

FUN FACTS

she has an english bull dog named frank!! he is her pride and joy. she dresses him up in outfits, has regular photo shoots with him and loves going to the dog park. he isn’t legally an emotional support animal, but that’s definitely what he is to her. if he doesn’t like you, she won’t either tbh

she has this lil purple pen looking thing that is always on her. it’s her weed vape and she will hit it anywhere. her dumb head is always in the mfing clouds

she has a spotify family plan that is currently only her, mac, and dom and she will absolutely invite anyone she meets bc spotify premium is something everyone should enjoy

wears a lot of graphic tees and jeans, kinda a tom boy. doesn’t love dressing up but will occasionally. also doesn’t rly like make up but DOES know how to beat her face

1000% unable to be alone for like any period of time?? like if she gets off work and no one is in her apartment she just leaves. she goes next door to mac, goes to the peach pit, anywhere she can socialize. being left to her own thoughts will always turn out poorly.

really loves poetry. cannot write it to save her life, but loves going to slam readings or checking out poetry books from the library. her adhd brain can’t handle novels – poetry is just the right length to keep her attention and dig into her soul.

oh yeah, she’s got some pretty intense untreated adhd lol

OK SO WANTED CONNECTIONS IF UR STILL HERE LMAO

ex-roommate: something happened between daysia and this person, whether it was a relationship gone wrong, a friendship with tension, or just the other person being a damn slob – and daysia removed them from the house and moved someone new in. they are probably on shitty terms.

roomate(s): ^^ the forementioned current roommate or two!! i would like her to be veeeery close to whoever lives here. they have to be ok with her dog, her weed, and how mf needy she is.

current flings: a few people are probably on her list of suitors right now. people she spends time with romantically, but hasn’t committed to. she absolutely cannot be alone, at any point… ever! so, she has someone with her at all times. m/f/nb, all good.

party friends: this one is pretty self explanatory!! these are friends that daysia may or may not talk to outside of a party, but will always cling to at one.

close friends: she lets very few people all the way in, but those that make it are generally taken care of by day. she makes sure that they are as comfortable with life as possible and spends a lot of time with them

exes: as daysia is a ticking time bomb, there have been many people she’s blown off. whether they once hooked up, were together, or what have you, daysia has a lot of exes. she never means to hurt anyone. it just sort of happens and she has accepted it.

#peaches:intro #i'm back lmao

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