#but people on here get So weird about kids it always boggles my mind | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

elodieunderglass · 2 years ago

Note

Firstly, I wanted to say thank you for finally making Moby Dick comprehensible to me over a decade after I attempted to read it and bounced aggressively off it! But the thing I actually wanted to ask and boggle about is, you get a full year of maternity leave??? I think literally the company with the most mind-bogglingly generous policy I ever worked for (I'm in the US) only gave 7 months, and the place I'm at now only gives I think 3 or so.

You're very welcome! It's very exciting to me that a line by line translation of Moby Dick can make it so much more accessible.

On your second point - yeah! I'm always happy to talk about parental leave policies etc and how different countries handle them, not in a smug "Well, in the UK..." way but in a, "here's very concrete examples of how policies can work, and the material impact they have on people" sort of way, because that's genuinely something that needs to be communicated. Just like with the environmental crises, we are all limited by our ability to imagine the Healed World and what we need to do to get there. So what are some policies that are a bit more Healed-World-ish than the reality that many people live in, and how do they actually work? You are welcome to send me asks! Rumination below the cut.

I wouldn't have had kids if I'd stayed in the USA. I've chosen to have 3 in the UK. This is directly because of maternity leave, free childcare hours for toddlers, quality of childcare, accessibility of school/daycare, flexible working policies, generous holiday leave, and other factors like that. Does that seem weird to say? Should I have moped about in floods of divine baby-desire and universal mother-yearnings and stuff, and sacrificed everything to have squidgy babies? IDK, I've never felt any of those things: I love the children a lot as people and I'm obviously terrifically glad they're here, but I wouldn't have had any desire to have them in the first place if I hadn't been sure they'd have decent childhoods. And a childhood where a parent resents them because that parent had UNFULFILLED INTELLECTUAL GOALS, or where there's always stress because of MATERIAL DIFFICULTIES, wouldn't be decent. My desire to acquire the children has been very much based in the knowledge that I can afford them (financially, emotionally, socially, career-wise, mentally) without sacrificing or martyring myself. So, literally: even though I have 2 life-defining children and one more on the way, even though I'm considered in my immediate social circles to be a real earth-mother crunchy-type, even though I work part-time to spend time with the kids and so on: if I didn't live THIS life, I wouldn't want the children. So I think it’s interesting to see how a simple piece of policy, a difference between nations, so totally impacts and directs the course of an individual’s life.

RE: the actual practicalities, it breaks down a funny way. In the UK, they hold your job for you for up to a year, usually hiring a temporary maternity cover: if they can't give you the same job back, they have to give you a similar one. If you return in 6 months it’s like you didn’t leave at all and get the exact job back. Maternity leave is usually taken for about 9 months, with paternity leave often adding an additional 3 months, and children usually entering childcare at the age of 1.

The actual way that this gets calculated is pretty complicated. My job offers 6 months on full pay, which is a "benefit" - otherwise the default is only 6 weeks on full pay. After the full pay runs out, you're on SMP - Statutory Maternity Pay - which is £156.66 per week. SMP runs out at nine months. If you want more time than that, your job gets held for a full year, but you'll be on 3 months unpaid. -> HOWEVER, you've been accruing annual leave the whole time you've been off, so when the baby is 9 months old, you might expect to have about 6 weeks of holiday that built up. Holiday is taken at full pay rates. So depending on how much holiday you have, you just return to work while on vacation and get paid again.

If you return to work at 6 months, which is sort of the minimum normal time to take off, you get your exact same job back. If you take longer than 6 months, you get that "offer of an equivalent job" but no promise of having your job back - which can worry people. So sometimes people happily choose to take only 6 months off, because they want their exact same projects back.

So what will happen with me is

6 months off on full pay, Dr Glass takes about 1 month off on full pay parental leave at the beginning to provide support

(Child2 enters age where they get 30 hours/week free childcare, daycare bills drop to basically just Child1's afterschool programs from here until last bullet point. As Dr Glass and I both work part time, this means that each day of the week will have a mix of different children, activities and work. We will hopefully be able to bank a little bit of childcare-budget to coast on for the next bits.)

3 months off where I'll only make £624 a month SMP: it’s not nothing and so should be grateful, except for the relentlessness of life. I also get £150/month from the government for having two children - nothing for the third because that would be encouraging families to rely on benefits and have children for money, or something, naturally. Dr Glass will be working, but no family can really lose almost half a wage and be cheerful about it, so we'll have to coast on savings banked from the room freed up in the childcare budget. (we thought it would just about work before the cost-of-living crisis, when we filed our plan paperwork, and gotta say, it’s looking pretty scary now.) we’ll prioritise the mortgage and utilities in cash, and should be able to coast it.

2-ish months off but "on holiday," i.e. back on full pay

Dr Glass overlaps one month off on full pay (holiday + shared parental leave) plus two months totally unpaid, i.e. Unpaid Leave, i.e. Dr Glass keeps his job and simply takes two months off, making £0 a month. Again, this will be hard to get through, but as we know it's coming, we have time to make SOME savings to live on. This allows Dr Glass to have time with his last child, which is a priority for us over debt, and gets the baby comfortably to the age that our nursery accepts.

Both parents return to work. Baby will enter daycare aged 1 (Child2 remains on free hours, daycare bills go back up to mortgage-level payments, finances return to exactly where they were before Baby3.) hopefully we’ll be able to quickly pay down any debts incurred with two full wages.

You can see it's doable, but there are some scary flippin' periods and a tremendous amount of footwork. We've somehow managed during harder times; with Child1 I was the sole breadwinner for the household and was at a job where I only got SMP, so I went back to work at 6 months and Dr Glass was a SAHP for a long time; with Child2 it was pandemic and lockdown etc, and no childcare was available, so we all ricocheted around the house together for a year. So clearly something absolutely bonkers is going to happen in 2023, but if it doesn't, we might actually have one (1) normal baby-leave.

As you can see, it's NOT the Healed World, but it has aspects that you'll want to include in the Healed World. You can see the impacts on things like family design - the kids all being 3 years apart for affordability, as that's when the free childcare hours kick in - and the way that fathers are still sort of wedging themselves in. You can see how it gets cobbled together and stressful, and the bits where you have to coast over patches that could just as easily destroy a family (watch this space! We might go completely fucking broke! We’re about £200 away from it at all times as it it!) You can see that there are some privileges (having a partner, partner having a job) that materially affect the experience people have. You can see how sometimes people can take a year and others return to work at 6 months (I've done both! Both can be great and both can suck, but it's MUCH better when you choose it for yourself, rather than being forced financially.) you can see that some cruel and stupid policy decisions are meant to punish poor people in the UK for having children despite the lack of internal logic (no child benefit for over 2 kids, when child benefit is meant to help you raise citizens.) You can see places where a conservative politician could shit on one vulnerable place (like the UK’s free childcare hours for three year olds! Liz Truss was thinking about killing it!) and entirely destroy my family at a stroke. You can see that for all my stance of “I am not a martyr” for my children, I’m expecting to have spent several years of my life flippantly being marginally-waged for the sake of having them: but also, you can see the difference between the support the UK gives my stance, and the support a 20-year-old military wife in the American heartland gets with her first baby: you can see how eased the paths of my children are, how isolated hers will be. You can step back from the worldwide generational immolation of mothers, their narratives of sacrifice and drudgery, and unpack how much of that is truly necessary, and how much damage could have been resolved by simply rinsing off the TERF shit, offering a few scraps of healthcare, and giving them a few fucking months off work.

We are all worldbuilding the Healed World: it makes sense to understand the different ways it could work. I’ll longpost about any policy you guys would like until then.

338 notes · View notes

maiverie · 3 years ago

Note

mai as one of the older kids on sfw enhablr (not saying ur old !! 😭😭 it’s just that there’s a lot of minors on here) how do you feel abt the current content for the maknae line? like ik it’s not always super sexualized or anything but sometimes i see stuff that’s just the way it’s worded really rubs me the wrong way ☹️ esp bc some of the kids on here are so young it makes me feel like if they see stuff like that , they might start think it’s okay for others to treat them the same or vice verse … whenever i see edits of niki on tiktok , i have to avoid the comments bc there’s almost always like a “daddy” , “how is he 16” or “you don’t know what you do to me” like wtf he’s a literal child ?? it makes me so mad and honestly so uncomfortable :( and i saw an article on kboo today too that said niki apparently has around 200 explicit or mature fics written abt him on ao3 … sometimes even the fboi trope (usually when it’s written abt minors) bothers me bc i see minors writing abt it (like 13-15 y/o) and i don’t understand why they don’t just use the term player or smtg … bc they’ll go out of their way to mention how the character has sex a lot an whatnot , even that feels way too suggestive for me personally for a minor too write let aline abt a minor too , sorry for the rant,, i was just wondering how you felt … omg also though tbh i noticed that some of the minors on here / blogs in gen seem way too comfy on here like they’ll be sharing where they live , their actual names and sometimes like giving a lot of personal info … like did they not learn abt internet safety or do they just no care? as one of the older kids , i kind of worry abt them :( i really hope everybody stays safe on here <3 & some reminders: never be afraid to block anyone ! bc i’ve seen a lot of minors on here get sent stuff from the p*rn bots or just weird dms :( & u don’t need to force yourself to interact with someone , make sure ur comfy with them first !

“AS ONE OF THE OLDER KIDS” ANON DO U HATE ME 😭😭😭😭😭 IS THIS A HATE ASK 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 GAHDHSJAHSKAK IM JUST KIDDING AJDJSHA THAT MADE ME LAUGH FR 😭😭😭 BUT I MIGHT KMS WATCH IT HAPPEN

OOOFTTT N E WAYS SHDHAHA i’m not sure if i’m the most equipped to talk about this, so as a preemptive disclaimer: this is just my opinion from what i’ve personally seen!! (this is super long? i’m so sorry 😭 there’s a tldr at the bottom if u wanna skip hehe)

tbh, i haven’t actually consumed much maknae line content (for obvious reasons, firstly heeseung has a, uh strong grip on me but also i personally just find myself more comfy w hyung line content) so i frankly haven’t seen an overwhelming amount of suggestive content w the maknae line, although i don’t doubt it exists. i definitely agree that there are times where i think the line has been crossed - like the examples you’ve cited, there are the few “daddy” comments here and there, and the weird thirst comments on tiktok too. i always give them the benefit of the doubt and assume the people making these comments are also minors who are a similar age to niki, which makes me feel a little better altho at the end of the day sexualising minors is always pretty wrong no matter who’s doing it. like you said, it’s wrong bc it makes it easier for adults to do it, and i would hate for minors to think it’s normal for other people to sexualise them! in saying that, if you’re an adult and you’re making these comments about minors, pls seek help and find someone ur age lmfao 😭😭 there’s a four year gap between niki and me and i literally find it mind-boggling to see him in such an overtly sexual way 😭

however, if you’re truly asking for my honest, honest opinion, i feel like this kind of topic is nuanced and there are some considerations to take place — as a blanket rule, there are things that are strictly prohibited of course. writing smut as a minor about an adult or another minor? no. writing smut as an adult ABOUT a minor? absolutely disgusting. any other content that’s explicitly sexual (for example, making a tiktok about niki grinding on the floor and comparing it to sex or whatever) is also so so wrong in my opinion.

i think it’s totally fine to find niki attractive (i also think he’s so handsome like fr… slay king), it’s just when you sexualise him that it gets hella weird. however, i do feel bad shaming minors for calling niki hot or sexy or whatever because i feel like the problem isn’t necessarily with them. with social media and the entertainment industry in general, i feel like sexualising minors has become so insidiously pervasive that you’ll literally see it everywhere. it’s becoming more and more normalised; think about charli damelio or britney spears or lindsay lohan or natalie portman and that role she played as a kid who had a relationship w an older man… society is just fucking disgusting and so geared toward exploiting kids for money that it feels normal to minors to sexualise other minors, i.e. calling niki sexy. not saying it isn’t wrong bc i don’t agree w it personally, but i understand why they do it because that’s probably exactly what society/the kpop industry wants :/ also, i feel like with our slang evolving and everything, we’re so quick to say shit like “daddy” without even thinking about it. sometimes hot is used interchangeably w handsome or attractive. anon i agree!! it makes me really mad and uncomfortable when people say that shit about niki too. if it were up to me, we’d let children be children and let niki live his life without being called fuckable. it’s disgusting, i hate it, that article about the 266 fics grossed me out :(

ive not personally seen fics about niki being a “player” or a “frat boy that gets around” but i agree that that’s really suggestive. particularly the “has a lot of sex” part, bc what?? 😭😭 i guess i don’t mind the “player” or “bad boy” part because personally i only ever think of those words as an aesthetic. characterisation is really important! i hope people aren’t writing about niki being a super sexual bad boy bc yeah…. ://///

internet safety is rlly important too!! id be a massive hypocrite if i said i wasn’t on the internet before i was 13 tho, so i feel like what’s most important is practising internet safety! yeah probably not a great idea to reveal your name/location and shove your pictures in every corner of the internet 😭 i think enhablr gives a false sense of security because most of the people here are also minors, so it doesn’t seem like the place you’re going to get preyed on by adults. but yeah, i suppose the danger is that you open yourself up to unsolicited porn asks (which i recently saw on my dash happened to someone) because people on the internet are fucked up 😐 i think at the end of the day if you’re being safe and you’re aware that people on the internet can be sick motherfuckers, minors on the internet is totally okay.

tl;dr — i hate it, pls don’t call niki daddy, pls don’t sexualise him in such an explicit way because there’s a line between finding him attractive (and allowing yourself to indulge in the “boyfriend” image the kpop industry loves to sell) and sexualising a minor. it’s wrong, it’s harmful, let’s all be rlly cool and happy and stream manifesto day 1 🙏🙏🙏🙏 thank u anon for asking!! i’m happy you wanted to know my opinion and hope my words make sense. i’m pretty horrible at expressing myself so if there’s any thing that needs clarification just let me know !! lots of luv 💖💖🥹🫶

#ask #@ : anon ♡︎#this is so long i’m so sorry #altho i don’t think i said anything super controversial pls don’t give me hate im very very fragile 😭🙏#i don’t mean to offend anyone or target anyone #this is not written with ANYBODY in mind :) 💖💗 peace n love

5 notes · View notes

ask-keeby · 3 years ago

Text

Fan

Hi! I use to visit your blog all the time as a teenager and it was always this secret guilty pleasure for me since instead of religiously being obsessed with sonic like most kids, It was Kirby for me and this was one of my main escapes. I constantly checked up on this blog and other Kirby role-players like Ask Great King Dedede, it was such a habit of mine that during school I pulled up your blog on one of the school computers and quickly panic closed it at ultra light speed when I realized what I was doing. I think you can probably imagine how classmates at that age would react if they knew you frequented a blog about homo-erotic puffballs that morphed genders and became pregnant... Still though as silly as it might sound I feel like your blog was a really important tool that helped me explore some inner feelings at that confusing phase and I really appreciate everything you've done here. Even if you aren't as active as you use to be, it still really warms my heart to see this blog and story-line continued in some capacity where-as most of the other Kirby blogs I use to visit are all barren.

Anyhow though your artstyle really inspired me to start exploring digital art as well and It's led me to pursue animation as a career. I loved your story telling from the silly "anon magic" that lead to some pretty funny scenarios, to the serious comics that you painted gorgeously. I almost created my own Kirby blog to roleplay as NOVA but I was just too shy, in real life and In the online space, to openly participate in the community. Just watching you do your thing was A-ok for me. There's so much more I want to say like how I was even there to watch a couple of your really old live streams where you played some game that I can't remember for the life of me, It was like one of those 2d indie horror games that youtubers like Pewdiepie use to play and I think it started off in an art museum? Regardless all I just wanted to say thank you and this community for existing. Peace

-----

((omg ;v; I just wanna say, I really enjoyed reading this! It still boggles my mind that people have been following this account since they were young! It doesn't feel like the account is that old, but in reality, it is lol

And don't worry, my account feels like a guilty pleasure to myself |D

As weird as it probably sounds, my blog actually helped me learn more about trans people, as well as learning how to write a gay couple as just any other couple with ups and downs. Although the drama I wrote was well out of the ordinary lol I was never good at writing stories in school (or any sort of creative writing lol), but I felt like I got to write freely and draw what I wanted without the fear of getting a bad grade. I got my fair share of judgement but people enjoyed what I put out, and that kept me going c:

I'm glad my art inspired you to get into digital art and pursue animation though! I can't explain how much that means to me! I never intended for my art to be an inspiration, but it really makes me happy that it had that effect ;v; I wish you all the best in your future career!

Now I would say to go ahead and make your NOVA blog, since the community is very welcome and open, but it's pretty much dead now on tumblr |'D I would have liked to have seen what you would have done with it. Who knows, it may revive again in the future or start fresh elsewhere c:

As for the game, it was called Ib! I'm honestly surprised you even remember those ancient streams lol

Anyway, thank you so much for the kind message~ ;v; Stuff like this really make me feel like the effort I put into this blog was really worth something. I feel I should also thank the people who pulled me into this community years ago lol But yes, have a good rest of your life, and as I said, good luck with your future career~ ))

#ooc #this gave me a warm feeling

19 notes · View notes

amispnrewatch · 4 years ago

Text

SPN 1x06 “Skin”

Okay, I’m gonna try to type while I watch this time instead of forgetting this blog exists until the episode is almost over.

You can tell the footage for the previously on segment was saved on a VHS copy instead of the original film that the show was shot with because even in the HD iTunes version I have it looks low quality as fuck. And jumpy in the way that brings me back to my teens watching the WB all the damn time.

I love this song. WTF is this song. Shazam says “Good Deal” by Mommy and Daddy. I… have no comment, except that it sounds like everything I was listening to in college at the time this shit was airing.

Aaaaand not!Dean turns around to face the SWAT team after obviously torturing some woman. THAT is a cold open.

I wanna know what that car is in the background. It’s pretty. Maybe a convertible Impala? They have similar grills. This is not at all important.

Also, I love that with these higher definition versions of the episodes you can see that Sam’s email is lawboy and whatever dot com and that people in the fandom have started calling him Law Boy. It’s hilarious.

DEAN: Well, what exactly do you tell ‘em? You know, about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doin’?

SAM: I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with my big brother. I tell ‘em I needed some time off after Jess.

DEAN: Oh, so you lie to ‘em.

SAM: No. I just don’t tell ‘em….everything.

DEAN: Yeah, that’s called lying. I mean, hey, man, I get it, tellin’ the truth is far worse.

SAM: So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life? (DEAN shrugs.) You’re serious?

DEAN: Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period.

Aaaaand now I have Dean and Cassie feelings again and we haven’t even gotten to her episode yet.

SAM: No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer.

DEAN: Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.

Aaaaaand now I have Dean and Lee feelings and we’re nowhere near Lee’s episode in season 15.

YOU JUST BLEW THROUGH A STOP SIGN DEAN WTF.

Little Becky. Oi with the reusing of names.

Of course Sam made friends with a bunch of rich kids while he was at college in a desperate attempt to try to be normal.

SAM: You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack’s house.

DEAN: We could.

REBECCA: Why? I mean, what could you do?

SAM: Well, me, not much. But Dean’s a cop. (DEAN laughs.)

DEAN: Detective, actually.

I love that Dean was like “how dare you call me that.”

Okay, after a bit of research, I totally want to take a day trip to Bisbee, Arizona, but it’s already in the 90s here in the desert and it’s not even May so that trip is going to have to wait until… winter or something. There is no way in hell I’m going deeper into the desert when the weather gets hotter.

It’s a historic mining town tourist trap looking place now which is exactly the kind of shit I love.

SAM: Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he’s innocent.

I mean, not technically, technically you would 1) NOT FUCK WITH A MURDER INVESTIGATION YOU’RE NOT LEGALLY INVOLVED IN BECAUSE ANYTHING YOU FIND WOULD BE INADMISSABLE IN COURT 2) find evidence to provide a reasonable doubt for the jury that he did commit the crime. You know, like a lawyer would need to do, Law Boy.

DEAN: I just don’t think this is our kind of problem.

When I made my husband watch this show with me (he’s seen it all at least once now over the years) this is the recurring thing that drove him crazy.

You guys can’t even go in through the back door? Or shut the front door behind you? Really?

REBECCA: (tearfully) Well, there’s no sign of a break-in. They say that Emily let her attacker in.

Yeah, that doesn’t even really mean that she knew her attacker. Just that it was someone she let her guard down around or got in some other way. See: The Son of Sam and Nightstalker, etc.

Love the pinup magnet on the fridge. I’d throw shade at that, but I have a pinup magnet on my fridge too so… pot kettle and all that.

Okay, both people in the next couple are gorgeous.

And oh wow those special effects changing eyes… wow.

This poor couple. I feel so bad for them in this episode.

How… how are the police gonna explain the way he was able to beat himself over the head with a bat??? I…

I love that 5:30 in the morning on TV is clearly like… 10 AM.

Okay, this is a really unrelated point, but the graffiti on the dumpster here reminds me of the Teen Wolf fandoms use of the name Void!Stiles when Stiles Stilinski was possessed by a Nogitsune… I just spent way too long digging through YouTube and my Tumblr tags from back when those episodes were airing looking for a few specific videos and couldn’t find them. The TL;DR reason I bring it up here is goofball, bi-coded main character guy getting possessed by an entity set on destroying the people he loves. SOUNDS LIKE THIS EPISODE AND A WHOLE LOT OF SPN RIGHT. I love that all these monster hunting shows call out to each other.

This scene haunts me years later and I don’t even WATCH Teen Wolf. I just watched the fandom on Tumblr collectively lose it’s shit then tripped down a Hale Pack fanfiction rabbit hole.

ANYWAY

Back to Supernatural, a show that also treated its fan base, cast, and characters like garbage! Huzzah!

DEAN: Well, there’s another way to go—down. (They look down and notice a manhole.)

I’m gonna be mature and ignore the double entendre there…

But I love that Dean thinks of the world in 3D. Which sounds like a dumb statement to make, but this is honestly a good example of that in action.

SAM: I bet this runs right by Zack’s house, too.

Really Sam, sewers run by houses? SO WEIRD. I WOULD HAVE NEVER GUESSED.

DEAN: You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape—maybe it sheds.

SAM: That is sick. (DEAN puts the bloody pile back on the ground.)

Guys, there is a WHOLE ASS EAR in that pile of yuck you’re looking at. I think it’s pretty safe to assume the shapeshifter indeed sheds its skin like a snake. A much… gooier snake.

Sam’s friend is rightfully pissed at him for fucking with the crime scene.

This is before the pearl gripped guns?! Wow. I never noticed that before.

Also, this whole episode gives me feelings.

++++

Cool. Tumblr mobile ate a whole section of my notes on this when it crashed for NO APPARENT REASON. Love that.

It always boggles my mind that actors can trust the people they’re working with enough to let people “tie” ropes around their neck or put them in actually dangerous positions in a scene.

SHAPESHIFTER: He’s sure got issues with you. You got to go to college. He had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home. With Dad. You don’t think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were you?

SAM: Where is my brother? (The shapeshifter leans in close to SAM.)

SHAPESHIFTER: I am your brother. See, deep down, I’m just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I’m a freak. And sooner or later, everybody’s gonna leave me. (He backs away.)

SAM: What are you talkin’ about?

SHAPESHIFTER: You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me, too. No explanation, nothin’, just poof. Left me with your sorry ass. But, still, this life? It’s not without its perks. (He laughs.) I meet the nicest people. Like little Becky. You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance. Let’s see what happens. (He smiles and covers SAM with a sheet.)

This exchange is just… so much. So many feelings. And I will forever (unless we magically get a fix-it fic mini season someday…) be SO MAD that none of this got resolved in that pointless, trash heap of a finale.

REBECCA: Okay, so, this thing—it can make itself look like anybody?

SHAPESHIFTER: That’s right. (She chuckles.)

REBECCA: Well, what is it, like a genetic freak? (The shapeshifter laughs.)

SHAPESHIFTER: Maybe. Evolution is about mutation, right? So, maybe this thing was born human but was different. Hideous and hated. Until he learned to become someone else. (REBECCA looks around, uncomfortable. The shapeshifter’s eyes glint silver, and he smiles.)

It always amazes me how much of this show is a pile of accidental queer allegories parading around in an ill-fitting toxic masculinity suit.

Vulcan mind meld! I love nerd!Dean. Also, I’m rewatching Star Trek: TOS with my husband, because that is what my life amounts to these days, rewatching comfort TV and flailing over the bits I love.

This post does a better job than I can do of pairing up screen caps with the dialogue of this next scene. SIX EPISODES IN. They’re dumping all of this character depth SIX EPISODES IN. FUCK THIS SHOW FOR NOT EMBRACING ITSELF.

Okay, I love that he screams back in her face after he threw the phone. It’s not something to laugh at because the situation is horrifying, but I can’t help laughing at it every time.

AND THE WAY THEY CUT THESE SCENES. Going from him winding his hand back to backslap her directly to him dropping the chains on the table to show how hard he must have hit her without actually making the actors hit each other. Good job editing department!

I… don’t understand the shifter’s motivation for killing people. If he can take over people’s identities without killing them, why kill them? Is it just because he’s a homicidal, rapist piece of shit? Cause that’s all it seems like.

How did the SWAT team even know she was being attacked? Why can the snipers aim no better than Storm Troopers?

Ugh, these kind of transformation body horror scenes are exactly why werewolf stories have never really appealed to me much. Like, I could do without watching your ribs move and teeth fall out, dude.

BUT.

THIS FUCKING SCENE.

I looked up the song that’s playing over shapeshifter!Dean being caught by the SWAT team and then going through the grotesque transformation. (And as far as I know, the iTunes version has the original music from the episodes.)

It’s a song called “Mary” by The Death Riders

Who's your mother, who's your mother here boy // Who's your mother, whos your mommy dear // Who's your father, who's your father here boy // Who's your father, who's your daddy dear

Silently screaming // Where everyone knows // Daddy's always watchin' // Where everywhere - everywhere I go

I don't wanna be a freak show pretty boy anymore // I don't wanna be a full time slave // I don't wanna be your midnight cowboy anymore // I just want to be Mary

This is… a fascinating choice. Here are the rest of the lyrics. The song as a whole has a weird incesty kinda vibe to it? Kinda like when SPN tries to straight-wash itself and misses the mark wildly. (Like Dean’s male siren episode.)

The midnight cowboy line reminded me of 12x11 and the bull riding scene with “Broomstick Cowboy” by Bobby Goldsboro playing over it

Dream on, little Broomstick Cowboy, // Dream while you can; // Of big green frogs, // And puppy dogs, // And castles in the sand.

For, all too soon you'll awaken; // Your toys will all be gone. // Your broomstick horse will ride away, // To find another home. // And you'll have grown into a man, // With cowboys of your own. // And then you'll have to go to war, // To try and save your home.

And then you'll have to learn to hate; // You'll have to learn to kill. // It's always been that way, my son; // I guess it always will.

Because, you know, why not add tons of feelings into the lyrics, right?

Props to the people who can embrace their rewatches and reclamations of the show with ease. Because every episode seems to remind me of how hollow and tragic Dean’s ending was and I just… struggle all over again.

Anyway, back to the episode so I can move on with my day.

REPORTER: An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End, where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home. (A sketch of DEAN appears on the screen.)

DEAN: Man! That’s not even a good picture. (SAM looks around cautiously.)

SAM: It’s good enough. (He walks away.)

DEAN: Man! (He follows SAM.)

(CUT TO: Alley. DEAN and SAM are walking. DEAN steps into a puddle.)

DEAN: Ugh, come on.

I love that we get two tiny little back-to-back vanity moments for Dean here. One commenting on the sketch artist rendition of him being broadcasted on the news and the other tripping in the puddle. There is literally someone running around the city trying to kill people while wearing Dean’s face, but Dean is still concerned with how he looks appears to others. He’s still concerned with keeping up his own performance. The shifter left him with just a t-shirt, so he doesn’t even have his usual comfort layers on and at any moment someone could spot him and call the police or try to kill him for assaulting Sam’s friend. His life is wildly out of control in that moment and the only thing he can try to focus on is his appearance (something semi-controllable) and finding the shifter before any of that other shit can happen.

One day I want to put together a like top 10 episodes focusing on / explaining each TFW character from the series. Like the kind of list you could show someone who’s never seen the show, but has OPINIONS about the characters (or who hasn’t seen the whole show and seen the growth they went through… you know, like the people responsible for the travesty of 15x20). This episode would be on that list. I’m not sure how I could manage to make a list of only 10 episodes to understand Dean Winchester by, but eh.

SAM: What are you gonna do to me?

SHAPESHIFTER: Oh, I’m not gonna do anything. Dean will, though.

SAM: They’ll never catch him.

SHAPESHIFTER: Oh, doesn’t matter. Murder in the first of his own brother? He’ll be hunted the rest of his life. (He picks up a sharp knife and examines it.)

Speaking of season 15 in general, this right here. This was Chuck’s villain story arc thesis statement. AND THEY DROPPED THE GODDAMN BALL WITH IT. I think that’s the thing that honestly pisses me off the most these days (about 5 1/2 months from when the finale aired) is that they tried making the whole thing a tragedy but did such an awful job with it that it just ended up like a deflating condom balloon at a dive bar concert. Disappointing and gross. The finale for season 14 set them up SO FUCKING WELL and it just… didn’t get there.

Becky’s parents are gonna be pissed at how torn up their house is after all this shit…

And you’re not shooting him when you first see him strangling Sam because…?????

I like that he took the necklace back. Also, is this kinda Dean death number .5 of the show? Like it wasn’t him but it was also kinda him. Eh.

At least they left the windshield on Baby this time. Reflections are better than tearing her apart.

#SPN 1x06 #amispnrewatch #reclaiming spn #performing!dean #lawboy #bi!dean #dean x cassie #dean x lee #stiles stilinski #void!stiles #teen wolf #dean deserved better

47 notes · View notes

shizukateal · 3 years ago

Text

I posted 12,277 times in 2021

132 posts created (1%)

12145 posts reblogged (99%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 92.0 posts.

I added 893 tags in 2021

#deltarune spoilers - 146 posts

#deltarune - 137 posts

#paranatural - 122 posts

#revolutionary girl utena - 102 posts

#infinity train - 76 posts

#homestuck - 74 posts

#wandavision - 72 posts

#magical girl fashion - 68 posts

#jjba liveblog - 55 posts

#spy x family - 41 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#if that thing so much as touched the skin of my stomach it would dissolve my flesh and come out cleanly through the other side of my torso

My Top Posts in 2021

What are your thoughts on Godoka and Homucifer?

Homucifer looks better than Godoka.

I'm sorry, but Godoka is just... all she does is attach "more". A lot of fanart makes her look great, but lets not kid ourselves, people. That hairstyle isn't actually good, it's just "more" hair. Everytime I look at it I feel like I could just pull the extensions off and leave Madoka with her actual hair, but I get that they put it because the ponytails alone wouldn't go with the train. Still, Madoka does not have the body type for a boob window, hell, she can only pull off that skirt without her usual side ribbons when it puffs up. There was no reason to put pointy stilettoes under thigh-high socks when they could have just been thigh-high boots. On itself as a piece of fashion, yeah, the dress alone is great. I prefer trains when they don't look detachable from the main skirt, sure, but even I am not so nitpicky, especially with the galaxy insole. It's just that Madoka is not the right model for it, especially with all the other choices they made around it.

See the full post

55 notes • Posted 2021-08-11 23:22:37 GMT

what do you think of the costumes in w.i.t.c.h (and by extension c.h.y.k.n)?

See the full post

56 notes • Posted 2021-07-16 03:34:29 GMT

Deltarune Theory: Kris the Messianic LITERAL Zombie (w/ possible Gaster interference)

Boy, those endings, huh? Is Kris even really a human?

Well of course they are! At least to an extent. If they were suddenly, say, a werewolf that would be a pretty stupid plot twist. But I think it is not an unreasonable claim to say that one of Undertale's themes was how humanity could be monstrous. And wouldn't you know it, there's a specific type of monster that is always human shaped: a zombie!

Kris is disheveled, languid unless they're causing mischief, creepy, perpetually hungry... and can move (albeit jerkily) without a SOUL, at least for a while. It seems to me that that window of time is not too long. After all, if they could live without it, why would Kris choose to put us back inside and be submitted to our control? But that brought back a memory of a specific line in Undertale:

"What happens when something without a soul... gains the will to live?" -Entry 8

And right after that realization I remembered all of the weird focus on christian symbolism in the story. Kris was always to an extent a Jesus figure, albeit a very vague one: named like him, son of an idealized mother figure that didn't conceive him through sex, a chosen one/avatar channeling the will of the Higher Power (us) sent to guide others (ACTing)... all good but, you know, generic for the most part. So what if there was a more direct parallel? What if Kris died and came back from the dead? There's even a place that looks like a sepulture. One which Kris seems nervous about:

See the full post

77 notes • Posted 2021-09-23 02:14:15 GMT

I’m gonna catch up to Jojo since the arc with Jolyne just got announced for an anime adaptation. I know nothing about her except for the fact that I would die for her if she asked me to.

Still can’t get over the fact that the villains in Battle Tendency dress in Mesopotamian fetish gear, though.

105 notes • Posted 2021-04-05 16:03:01 GMT

The Holy Quintet: The BEST DRESSED Magical Girl Team EVER. Part 2: Characters made of symbols and shapes.

Part 1 here.

Mami Tomoe

Mami Tomoe’s outfit is a work of genius that really humbles me as an aspiring character designer. Watching the perfection in its simplicity only boggles my mind trying to reverse engineer the thought process behind it. Even if they already had decided on the huntress theme before they finished her, how did Ume Aoki came up with cutting the sleeves like that? Or with the perfect skirt shape that allows the corset to show all of her curves while puffing at just the right height to not make the hipline transition awkward and giving the shape of a flower? How long did it take her to find this particular color scheme? Did she immediately know where to put the purple to balance the outfit without feeling artificial? How did she realize that the stripes on the socks would add the ideal touch to the whole setup? Or the perfect way to turn the soulgem into a hair accessory? I would have gone the easy way and put it in the chest ribbon like the amateur I am! Did she have doubts about it while she was figuring out the exact design of the boots?!

This outfit does everything. It’s sexy without being unnecessarily tasteless, it’s girly and fancy but battle-ready, it even passes the silhouette test, it’s nuanced, almost realistic. Even Mami’s hairstyle, which in a lesser design would look too childish, is perfect for her. Mami’s whole theme is that she’s a little girl desperately trying to convince herself that she’s an adult. Her low drill-tails are doll-like, which is to say a little girl’s idea of what a fancy adult woman looks like. The side-swept bangs also give a youthful roundness to her face while being elegant, and the way the hat and hairpin complements the whole thing is just * cheff’s kiss *.

Kyouko Sakura

See the full post

205 notes • Posted 2021-03-22 21:09:52 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

7 notes · View notes

novantinuum · 4 years ago

Text

Tides of Renewal (SU one-shot)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T (Mild TW for vague allusions to past suicidal thoughts.)

Words: 2500~

Summary: Now twenty years old and living on the other side of the country, Steven spends his morning relaxing on the beach, musing about his past, and having a chat with his dad.

Hi folks! This is actually my two-months-late “Happy Birthday, Steven” fic, ahah- amusingly, posted two months late to the day. I’m quite happy with how this short turned out.

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3 as well. AO3 link will be provided in the reblogs. Thank you! <3

____

Tides of Renewal

Steven rises alongside the sun, but not by choice.

As he abruptly stirs, jerking onto his side under his tangled blanket, he soon realizes that he has little lingering memory of the nightmare that shook him from his slumber. Nevertheless, his heart pounds so hard it feels like it’s hanging in his throat. There’s feelings, faint impressions— someone’s blood (his, or hers?), Connie’s screams, a bubble of terror boiling from within— but that’s all he’s left with. The young man clutches at his sheets, struggling to catch his breath as is the norm most mornings. Dim light sneaks in between the edges of the curtains, offering a rough estimate of the time.

Once it’s clear his chances of sleeping in have become null and void, he entices himself out of bed with the promise of buying himself a muffin at the local coffee shop later today, a birthday treat. His routine is sluggish, but precise. He uses the bathroom, throws on his swim trunks and a thin cotton shirt, downs the pills he forgot to take last night with a quick swig of water, carefully runs his fingers through his long curls to work out the tangles, and slips his feet into the flip flops he always leaves lying right at the foot of his bed.

The young adult only takes his guitar, phone, and keys with him as he walks the mile distance from his humble studio apartment to the public beach. Around him, the world is at peace. The only sound intermingling with the gentle ebb and flow of the Pacific at this hour of the morning is the chattering of puffins that nest on the large rock outcroppings in the tide pools nearby. The edge of his lip quirks up when he finally crosses that sacred boundary— the sidewalk meeting the shore— and removes his sandals, reveling in the satisfying, grainy texture of sand squishing between his toes. Hah... the beach. Funny, that. All his traveling these past years, from mountains, to prairies, to sprawling suburbs to wooded forest towns, and it only succeeded in deepening his childhood love for the familiarity of saltwater air and tourist-filled boardwalks. Still, the secluded, rustic charm of Haystack Cove is a far cry from the Beach City he grew up in. Different people, different sights, different types of seafood sold at the markets. This place feels like a home all his own, appropriately distant from the Gem influenced settlement he’d left behind.

He crosses the fine grained sands towards his favorite sitting spot, a hefty stone jutting out from the ground, its surface buffed to a glossy finish over the years by the high tides. The water’s still distant this early in the morning, glimmers of sunlight sparkling off of the foam and spray. Yawning, he plops himself down on the stone and lifts his guitar into his lap. He strums a few random chords as a warm-up before settling into an experimental melodic sequence.

As he plays, the early morning breeze teases at the ends of his shoulder-length hair, untied and let free in all its curly splendor. It’s still quite chilly, but with the sun peaking over the horizon behind him and not a cloud in sight, the air’s bound to heat up in no time. Steven inhales deeply, soaking in the salt and light and pushing away the shadows lurking at the periphery of his mind, that twitching, exhausting anxiety that never quite seems to leave him alone these days. Unfortunately, functional does not mean carefree. While far fewer in number then when he was a teen, he still runs into plenty of moments where he’s struck blind by particularly painful reminders of his past, his gem snapping into overdrive in an instant. He’s a bit better at coping in these moments now, and walking himself down from panic attacks, but deep-rooted traumas don’t simply melt away. With that in mind, at this point he suspects he’ll likely have to deal with a mixture of therapy and meds for the rest of his life. That’s fine, though. If that’s what it takes to be at peace. He’s thankfully reached a point in his recovery where he’s more than willing to work for it.

Startling him out of his roaming thoughts, his phone chimes to life, touting the same cheery ring tone he had as a kid. He gently sets his guitar down in the sand and fishes his cell phone out of his pocket, a silent bet as to who’s calling rising within his mind. Sure enough, his dad’s contact photo proudly greets him. Hah— he called it. Steven stifles a giggle as he hits accept and lifts the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Dad!”

“Hey, Schtu-ball!” his father chimes from the other side of the country, three hours ahead. He hears a faint shuffle over the line, and then the beginnings of guitar accompaniment as the man begins to sing:

“Happy birthday to you~!”

Dad ends the line with a resounding vibrato, and a few extra jazzy chords for good measure.

“Heh heh, thanks,” he says, bashfully blushing at the attention, and gazing across the loose sands as if ensuring the secret of his birth hasn’t swelled into a nauseatingly public affair like half of his birthdays had since the start of Era 3. “Gotta say, the impromptu guitar solo pushed that to a whole new level. You just get up?”

“Yep! Bright and early. Garnet said you’d probably be awake by now, so I figured I’d call and give ya’ a good greeting to start the day. Lemme guess, you’re down there at the beach already? I think I heard waves.”

Steven’s glance lifts to admire the slowly rising tides, and the promise of each tomorrow that lies beyond. “Hah, you know me,” he says softly, taking a deep lungful of that precious salt-touched air he’s always adored. “I live for the water. Might force myself to go for a swim later before all of you come. Not sure yet,” he says, shrugging as he turns and squints in the wake of the steadily rising sun. “But my therapist said I should probably keep as active as po—“

“It’s your birthday. You do whatever makes you happy, bud,” his dad promptly reminds him, slight concern sticking to his voice. And yes, it’s practically a father’s job to worry, but his chest tightens with lingering guilt for pressing that upon him anyways. Ugh, this is because he said ‘force myself,’ isn’t it?

“Doing my best to,” he lamely offers, hoping it’ll at least end that segment of conversation. He twirls a stray strand of hair around his finger as he scours his memory for something new to offer. Thankfully, his mind quickly lands on the exciting email he received last night. He grins, knowing for sure his dad’ll love this. “Oh, uh- topic change, but I got that last job I applied for, by the way.”

“Oh? The taffy shop one?”

“Yeah! I start on Tuesday.”

“Wow, that’s- that’s awesome! They responded fast, then.”

“Yup,” Steven nods, popping the ‘p.’ “Honestly, it’s nothing much, just stocking and working the register, but it’ll give me some cash to work with.”

Some cash to finally pay for his own food instead of continuously bumming money off his dad. There’s no way he can handle full month’s rent on his own with this minimum wage job, (who on Earth could in this economy), but it might be enough to cover the smaller things. Groceries, electricity, internet. That sorta stuff. Fidgeting on the edge of the stone outcropping, his bare toes dig narrow lines in the sand. He hasn’t really had this discussion with Dad yet, but the mere concept of being wholly reliant on other people steers his mind uncomfortably close to the I’m a Burden Zone. He’d far prefer to feel like he has a stake in the game.

“I know you said you don’t mind supporting me,” he continues in a hesitant tone, twirling his finger through one of his curls, “but I still feel kinda bad—“

“Don’t. I’d rather you not have to stress yourself to the bone about money like I did when I was your age.”

The line shakes for a second. He’s pretty sure he hears the faint clink of a bowl meeting the counter from his dad’s side.

“Dad...?”

“Sorry, bud. Just putting ya’ on speaker. Figured I’d make myself some instant oatmeal,” he says, his voice sounding a bit further away from the microphone. “Goodness, though. Twenty years. That still boggles the mind.”

He gives a soft laugh. “You’re telling me. Could’ve sworn I was twelve just yesterday. And to be honest, it’s... it’s kinda weird sometimes, you know?”

“What is?”

“Being another year older. ‘Cause... well, uh...”

Steven grits his teeth, searching for the most delicate manner in which he can discuss these emotions. The feelings of his past are a really hard topic to dwell on sometimes, even in therapy, and even though he and his dad have long since had scattered discussions about what a poor mental state he was in then, he doesn’t wanna upset him too much.

“There were definitely days I assumed I wouldn’t have a future, or didn’t want one to begin with,” he continues, throat thick. “Back during all the conflict, before Homeworld reformed. And even after that, when I was... you know. And things are better, now, they’re definitely a lot better. But the idea of a ‘future’... even if I’ve got a job, a home, a girlfriend... it’s still weird to think about, I guess.“

There’s a brief silence on the line as this vulnerable admission sinks in.

“Yeah,” Dad replies eventually, clear sorrow in his voice despite how careful he thought he was in phrasing these matters. “I hear ya’.”

With a quick nervous laugh, he scratches at the nape of his neck, fingertips brushing against the thin, wispy strands of hair growing back there. “Geeze, sorry for bringing the mood down so quick. Didn’t even know I had all that on my mind until it spilled right out.”

“No, no! No need for apologies, I’m always here to listen. And in any case, I’m glad you’re in a better place now.”

Steven nods his head to himself in full agreement (momentarily forgetting that his dad isn’t actually here in the flesh to see this response). Sixteen and seventeen really, really weren’t good years for him. And even though he’s put lot of work into himself since then, he can’t help but constantly fear the possibility of relapse. His therapist told him a few sessions ago when he expressed this worry that... relapses into old thinking patterns can be common for people living with C-PSTD, and that it’s important for him to be cognizant of any unusual changes in his patterns and routines so he can quickly intervene with his box of healthy coping tactics, but... geeze. The dark, traumatic destinations his wandering thoughts end up stagnating in when the concept of relapse brushes his mind aren’t fun to acknowledge. It makes him yearn with deafening hunger for a simple switch he could flip, some magic cure-all for his brain that would stop him from having to deal with any of this awful shit in the first place— but of course, cruel universe this can be at times, those don’t exist.

“Speaking of that,” Dad speaks up again after clearing his throat, “how are those new meds treating you? You said last call your doctor was gonna change them, yes?”

“Nah, not change. There’s no need to change types,” he shrugs. “It’s just a dosage shift. And it’s fine, I think. I’ve been on ‘em for a few days, and there’s no problems so far. Brain's been treating me a little better.”

Nightmares aren’t quite as bad.

His energy isn’t totally zapped by noon.

The whirling, panicked trajectory of his thought patterns is a little easier to wrest control of.

All in all, nothing’s perfect, but he certainly feels a good deal more stable than before. Now, if only he can remember to consistently take his meds before he goes to bed like he’s supposed to instead of totally forgetting like he did last night and having to scarf it down when he sees that forsaken capsule in his pill box the next morning. Tsk, tsk.

“That’s real good to hear,” his dad responds to his news.

He flexes his knuckles against his lap, gaze reflexively drifting back towards the welcomed distraction of the tides. “Yeah.”

“Anyways, I, uh...”

“So, party logistics,” he cuts in with an overly cheery tone, changing the topic from his boring mental health crap entirely. “We should probably hash this out now. I know Connie’s planning on dropping around about noon. What’s your guys’ plan? She can probably send Lion to you after she gets here, if you want.”

“Yeah, that’d be best. Pearl said there weren’t any convenient warps nearby. Well, there’s one- but apparently it empties out into an active lava tube. And that’s not exactly Dad-friendly.”

“Aww, you mean you’re not filled with the intense desire to dip your hand into molten lava and shlorp it up like it’s soup?” Steven retorts, only barely holding back his laughter as he thinks of this absurd text thread he had going with Connie a few weeks back, wherein she sent him a video of some volcanic flows and told him, verbatim, that 'despite all logic and reason sometimes I can’t help but look at super viscous lava and think... forbidden s o u p, mmmm.’

“Not particularly, no,” his dad says, sounding thoroughly confused. “I’m- why are you laughing? Is this some sort of weird internet thing I’m not familiar with again?”

He wipes tears from his eyes as he tries to catch his breath. “You, ah- you kinda had to be there, sorry. Anyways, yeah. I’ll have Connie send Lion. I’ll text you right before, how’s that?”

“Sounds great! Can’t wait to see ya’, bud. I’m gonna let you go, now, okay? I can talk your ears off later. Go enjoy your morning. Love you.”

“Love you too, Dad,” he says, grinning. “Bye.”

“Buh-bye.”

Once his dad hangs up he sets his phone beside him on the rock and takes a deep, steady breath, trying to capture the full nuance of each diverse scent in the air. He may just be imagining it, but he swears he’s able to pick out the faint scent of taffy intermingling with the ocean saltiness and the hint of cedar from the nearby state forest. In the end though, whether it’s real or not it’s a welcomed reminder of all the possibility the future holds for him.

He’s twenty now. It’s a brand new decade of life. He’s got a new job lined up, a stable and loving relationship, a supportive family, and plenty of courage in facing the shadows of his past. Sure, so maybe he’ll never know with certainty what will happen— maybe he’ll relapse a little, maybe he’ll still have some bad days sprinkled amongst the good ones— but as he watches the tides flow in to greet him, he smiles... and resolves to just take this year as a renewal of his vow to care for himself as best he can.

#su #su future #steven universe #greg universe #su fanfiction #my writing stuff

95 notes · View notes

shirtlesssammy · 4 years ago

Text

15x16: Drag Me Away (From You)

Then:

Castiel confesses a bombshell to Dean

Now:

We pick up right where we left off. Dean and Cas are about to share mutual I love yous and ---. A man checks into a motel late at night. The man is nervous entering the room, but reassures himself that he “can do this.” He sets up shop, and by “shop”, I mean he starts hitting the bottle.

Travis gets a text from Caitlin asking him why he would go “back to that place.” The creepy ring he grasps as he tells himself it was never real tells me it was VERY REAL. Get out of there, Travis!

Alas, it’s very real and he’s murdered by Closet Ghost Boy.

Sam and Dean are on the case!

Oh wait, I guess they knew the guy back in the halcyon days of their youth and they’re actually heading to his funeral. Sam recaps recent events, including Cas bailing on the fam. Then he asks if Dean and him are fighting again.

AND IT SENDS ME. #SamKnows

Dean denies knowing anything (AHEM. I sense DRAMA by the end of this episode --I’d normally say this would be left for the end of the season, but we’re really at the end of the season and the END OF THE SHOW...what’s with all the manufactured drama??) Dean then gets a text from Cas asking if he’s told Sam.

That’s a negative.

*Flashback Alert*

January 1993

Dean’s about 14 or 15 and Sam is 10. They’re dropped off by John to chill at a motel while he heads out on a hunt. Sam’s hiding something under his coat, and with a little prodding from Dean, it’s revealed to be a college guide.

#NerdAlert

Also, angst alert, I guess. This sets up the rift between brothers. Sam wants a normal life, Dean’s happy being a good little soldier. (Hmmm, something tells me neither of them will be in The Life when this is all said and done…)

Sam laments his life but unpacks his bag anyway.

Dean, meanwhile, heads to the vending machine to grab dinner. A young girl and her younger brother catch him stealing and introduce themselves as the mysterious Caitlin and Travis. And the young Travis is the DEAD KID.

They exchange life stories and Caitlin insults Dean’s Precious.

Present Day Sam and Dean meet up with Caitlin again.

(Mid recap mind-melt: THERE ARE FIVE EPISODES LEFT! What are we doing here????)

She tells them that the funeral was last week, but she needed them to help her. “I think she’s back.”

*Flashback Alert*

Travis was her first “victim”. He attempts to get a candy bar from the vending machine, and her gnarly hand attacks him instead. Travis DOES NOT deal well with it.

The group gathers in the motel room and Travis is upset that no one else saw the old lady in the candy machine. Dean tells Caitlin and Travis that monsters are real. Dean asks if weird things are happening in the town.

Apparently kids go missing in this town.

And in the present day, Dean tells Caitlin that he killed the thing that preys on children, so Travis had to have killed himself.

Team Youth start their investigation.

They think they’ve got things figured out, and Dean is IN CHARGE...or a dumbass even at 14. He heads out alone to fix things. Caitlin follows. (Insert Lucille Bluth gif: Good for her!)

Sam and Travis stay behind to play Boggle. #nerdalert

But seriously, now they’re setting up the idea that SAM might die at the end? No.

Dean and Caitlin continue their explorations, and Caitlin takes their endeavors less than seriously. GIRL. They find a nest, and something Dean freaks out about and pushes Caitlin to leave the area.

Sam and Travis start to spell out very grim Boggle results, when the game shakes and the room goes dark. The hag appears in a tangle of gnarled hair and dirty robes and heads straight for them. Dean and Caitlin burst in just in time! Dean chops off her fingers and gives her a bit of a stabbin’ and the witch evaporates into dust. Her ring is left behind on the floor.

Grown up Dean paces through the motel and encounters a ghostly version of his younger self. Young!Dean mocks him, tells him he failed, and hands him a knife. “You know what you have to do.” Dean sinks to his knees, the knife poised to slice into his heart.

When Sam interrupts him, Dean discovers that he’s been hallucinating everything - even the knife.

Later at the bar, Dean confesses to Sam and Caitlin that he saw the monster’s nest when he was hunting her as a kid. It was full of dead kids around their age. Sam’s horrified and asks why Dean never told him. Sweet bby Sammy, you know why! Though he tried to forget, the experience cursed him with nightmares for a long time. “We were both just kids,” Sam says to Dean’s BIGGEST GUILTY FACE MY GOD. “We used to keep a lot of secrets from each other!” Sam assures him. But that’s toooootally not the case now!

At the adjoining cafe, Dean orders dinner to go when Billie appears. “Working a case? NOW?” she asks. (Mmmmmm yes Billie lay it on us!) She’s fresh from the last of the alternate universes, having just watched it burn alive. (Guys, it was probably squirrel-verse but Boris saved Team Free Squirrel 2.0 for us!) Billie warns Dean that Chuck’s only days away. Amara’s on board and Jack’s ready so...let’s go Team Free Destruction! Dean asks her how she convinced Jack to turn himself into a bomb. Billie flips that right back on Dean. She told Jack that destroying Chuck and Amara (and incidentally, himself) was the only way to earn Dean’s forgiveness. And just...YEESH EVERYBODY.

Anyway, Billie’s not in Chuck’s book again until the very end, so she bids Dean a broody farewell. “This is on you, Dean.” No presssuuuuure! “I don’t like loose ends. I don’t like disorder,” she scolds. She orders Dean to come clean to Sam about Jack.

At the motel, Sam and Caitlin research monsters. She wonders whether he wants a normal life. GURL there ain’t no normal in Winchester-land. Sam stumbles across an article on Baba Yaga. She wears a ring which contains her heart, and is the source of her power. Caitlin recognizes the ring as belonging to her brother. Her mom had given it to Travis from the lost and found years ago. She heads outside to her car to find it.

In her trunk sits a box of Travis’s belongings. She can’t find the ring and is soon confronted by her dead brother holding the ring and grinning maniacally.

Dean returns with dinner, only to find Sam ready to hunt Baba Yaga and find the now-missing Caitlin. Because the attacks have all been at the motel, they prowl from wing to wing. Dean heads to room 214.

He walks inside, and I am momentarily agog at the wonders of these perhaps final motel rooms of the series. I love that the floor tiles in the rooms echo the Patchwork logo from the prior episode and that the quilt square design itself emulates tradition and family. And all the eyes in the wallpaper!

For Motel Room Science:

Ahem. Anyway. Dean heads inside, only to be instantly trapped behind the slamming door. Suddenly, he’s not in the motel room anymore. He’s back in the cannery, prowling its quiet spaces. He finds the site of the nest and flips back the tarp, only to reveal young Sam’s face lying there. Rattled, he tries to leave. Travis confronts him, but of course it’s not him. Baba Yaga tells him that she’s hungry for delicious people, and starts to throttle Dean.

Sam hears the struggle and heads in, stabbing the witch. Stabbing is distraction enough that Dean can yank the ring off her finger and smash it with the butt of his gun.

Later, Caitlin bids Dean farewell. He confesses to always being afraid and she smiles. “The old you never would have admitted that. What do they say about getting older? You tell the truth more because lies...they don’t make anything better.” Okay, first of all, literally nobody says that. Second, thank you for this theme acorn - I shall settle on my haunches to eat it! Nom nom nom.

Flashback to Dean and Caitlin parting ways as children. Dean hands her a phone number to call if she ever encounters trouble. So...typical kid stuff.

Young Sam asks if anyone ever found the missing kids. Baby Dean lies to his face and tells him that they were never found. John pulls up in the Impala and honks to beckon them out. The boys head out, a team for the moment.

As adults driving in the Impala of Feelings, Sam tries to call Cas. Dean orders him to hang up because he’s got a confession - I mean, update - to make. Billie visited him and told him that it was time to fight Chuck. “And there’s something else,” Dean adds. Jack’s going to die from the encounter and he’s ready and willing to sacrifice himself. Furthermore, Dean tells Sam that he learned this a while ago from Cas before he left.

Sam’s outraged that Dean would keep this from him. “I knew you couldn’t handle it,” Dean shouts at him. “You raise these ethical questions.” (I perk up.) He tries to justify it, but Sam shouts him down in turn.

They drive into the fade-to-black in brooding silence.

Brooding Quotes Lay Fragile Eggs:

I thought your imaginary friend told you it was bad to steal

Don’t you want a partner?

Hunting usually means going to gross places

Shoved it down the ol’ memory hole!

Not to make light of the death star galactic genocide, but what else is new?

I’ve seen this movie before

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn spoilers #spn recap #dean winchester #sam winchester #spn 15x16 #drag me away (from you)#supernatural season 15

51 notes · View notes

kelyon · 4 years ago

Text

Golden Rings 17: A Name

The Storybrooke sequel to Golden Cuffs

Mrs. Gold revisits her past

Read on AO3

Mrs. Gold looked on in mute horror as Hunter Duke dumped more hot sauce on his triple bacon hamburger. He’d asked Ruby to give him three meat patties with no bun and steamed broccoli instead of fries. When Mrs. Gold had questioned that lunch choice, he had explained his new diet to her.

At length.

Hunter had always been the kind of boy who thought meat and spicy food were substitutes for a personality. He’d been the star athlete at Storybrooke High, taking home championships in football and wrestling. He’d been popular with everyone--except for the one girl he’d arbitrarily decided was the hottest girl in school. That girl, the valedictorian, hadn’t given the quarterback the time of day. Not until she lost her scholarship and suddenly dating the son of a lawyer sounded like the way to the best future she would ever get.

“They do the burgers way too overdone here,” Hunter said with his mouth full. “You don’t get enough protein if it isn’t bloody.”

Mrs. Gold shrugged and took a bite of her own burger. It needed more pickles, but it was still amazing. Toasted bun, crisp lettuce, a patty that was juicy but not messy. She hadn’t had a Granny’s burger in forever. When she was a kid, her parents had taken her out for burgers every Friday night after their shop closed. Mom would bring her own supply of extra-zesty mustard and Dad…

She set her bun on her plate. On those idyllic, bygone Friday nights, her father would spend the whole meal grumbling about money and expenses and couldn’t they have eaten at home? Mom had always told him to stop worrying and enjoy the moment. It was the end of another week and they were together, happy and healthy. She’d calmed him down and kept him focused, every time there was a crisis.

Until they faced the biggest crisis of their lives.

Mrs. Gold blinked out of her thoughts. For some reason, Hunter was still talking. Maybe it looked like she was listening. She’d gotten good at that when they had dated. Now that she was listening for real, she tried to catch up.

“I keep telling my dad he needs to just change the sign. ‘Duke & Duke & Duke’ has a great ring to it, right? Or he could for ‘Duke & Sons.’ I don’t mind sharing the spotlight with Steven. Or he could leave the sign as it is and retire! ‘Duke & Duke’ is classic, everyone knows we’re the best bankruptcy lawyers in town. Just let my brother be the first Duke and I’ll be second Duke and we’ll take this firm into the future! But Dad keeps brushing me off for some reason.”

Mrs. Gold took a sip of iced tea and desperately wished it was something stronger. “Did you… go to law school?”

She had the oddest feeling that she couldn’t remember how long they had been out of high school. All she knew for sure was that Hunter had enrolled at Storybrooke Community College--and she hadn’t. It was possible that he had gotten his bachelor’s. As Hunter was fond of saying, “Cs get degrees.” But SCC didn’t have a graduate program. Had he taken more classes on the internet? Or correspondence courses? It boggled her mind to think of Hunter of all people had gotten a law degree during the years she’d been Mr. Gold’s stupid slut.

“Well actually,” he explained, “you don’t need to go to law school to take the bar exam. I’ve got a bachelor’s in poli-sci and I’ve been around lawyers all my life. My dad knows everyone at the state bar. He’ll pull some strings and I’ll be all set.”

Mrs. Gold stabbed her straw at the ice cubes in her glass. It was so fucking unfair. Hunter was an idiot child who had never worked for anything in his life. His father--Richard “Big Dick” Duke--had bought him a Humvee when he turned sixteen, a speedboat when he graduated high school, and a college education just because no son of his wasn’t going to go to college. Now he would give his son the bar exam and a ready job and everything he would need for a future, without Hunter ever having to grow up past the maturity level of a toddler.

She’d lost her virginity to this boy. One summer night after senior year, in the back seat of that gas-guzzling monstrosity. They’d been dating for a while and Hunter had been perfectly content with her amateurish attempts at blowing him. But for her, the novelty had begun to wear off. So she’d suggested that he “put it in” instead. It was mostly a way for him to get his rocks off while she could just lie back and think of something more interesting.

Her memories of that night were dark and cramped and disappointing. She kept her shoes and her bra on the whole time. When Hunter was done, she had been more confused than anything else. This is what people made such a big deal about? Wasn’t sex supposed to be better than that?

It wasn’t until later, with Mr. Gold, that she had understood what people were talking about in romance novels.

But now that things were so strained with her husband, she found herself thinking back to the only other sexual partner she’d ever had. Looking at Hunter now, she had to remind herself of how bad things had been that summer, when he had been a welcome distraction. Hunter hadn’t wanted to talk about doctors’ appointments or shop inventory or arguing with financial aid departments--every fight a losing battle. All he wanted to do was drink, screw around, and have fun, and he welcomed her along for the ride.

I thought he would help us. I was wrong. He wasn’t what I needed.

Mrs. Gold shook the thought out of her head. The thought was true, but she recognized it as not being her own, so she talked over it.

“Have you been hanging out with any of the old gang? Sean or Jesse or anyone?”

It had been exciting to be included with the rich kids, to feel like she belonged in the world of the young and the reckless--people who didn’t have to worry about things because their parents would always be around to bail them out. They could do whatever they wanted because the world belonged to them.

Hunter shrugged. “Jesse’s an idiot, so no change there. But Sean’s been such a pussy ever since Ashley had her baby.”

Ashely Boyd had been in that group with her. Rich boys liked running around with poor girls because they were easier to impress than the rich girls. New Town young ladies also had parents who bought them cars for their sixteenth birthdays. They didn’t need to rely on spoiled boys to pay their way every time they went out, so they didn’t have to go along with whatever stupidity the boys came up with. Mrs. Gold had taken a lot of risks just so Hunter would keep thinking she was interesting.

But Ashley had loved Sean for more than his money and toys. All she ever wanted was for him to love her back and stay with her. Once, Mrs. Gold had thought Ashley was stupid for pining so hard after a boy who would never commit. But now she had a little more sympathy.

“What happened with Sean?”

“Mr. Herman kicked him out, cut him off. Now he’s living at Ashley’s place, working his ass off at the fish factory.”

“The cannery,” Mrs. Gold corrected quietly. Fish King Canned Foods was always hiring. It was always looking for people who could stand waist-deep in ice and fish guts for twelve hour shifts, operating machinery that could cut through a human hand as easily as it did a whole herring. Her cousin Andrew had gotten a job right out of high school. Her Uncle Peter had worked there for twenty years before he died.

“Like I said, he’s a total pussy now. All he does is work and hang out with Ashley, work and take care of the baby, work and sleep. You know he asked her to marry him a couple days ago? Utterly whipped.”

“Wow,” she said.

She had never respected Sean Herman, so it was weird to think of him actually growing up. People didn’t usually change around Storybrooke. But now the spoiled party boy was taking responsibility for his child and the woman who loved him. He had given up his own wealth and family status because he loved a penniless girl from Old Town.

It was impressive.

She finished her burger while Hunter started another monologue, this time about all the fat, lazy, poor people who came to his father’s office to declare bankruptcy. Forget being a lawyer, he should go into talk radio.

“I did ask you to lunch for a reason.” She grabbed her chance to talk while he was taking a breath.

“Oh yeah?” Hunter wiped hot sauce off his face with the back of his hand. “What’s up?”

“You know a lot of people,” Mrs. Gold said. “I was wondering if you might know somebody that I don’t.”

He slurped up the dregs of his diet soda. “Yeah? Who?”

Mrs. Gold gripped the edge of the table and desperately hoped he wouldn’t notice how hard it was for her to say this. The gold of her wedding ring was dull on this cloudy afternoon. “I… just have a name right now. I think it’s a woman named Belle.”

She could see the wheels in his head turning as he thought. “Belle? Hmm. I don’t know.”

“She’s probably young. Maybe our age. Maybe younger. Or older? Maybe she’s one of your mom’s friends or something?”

A woman as old as Karen Duke would still be younger than Mr. Gold. Maybe he was looking for more maturity now. In the days since she found out about Belle, Mrs. Gold had been racking her brain to try to imagine what kind of person she was. She was only moderately sure that Belle even was a woman. If Mr. Gold wanted this Belle person more than he wanted his own wife, she was probably the opposite of her in some crucial way.

Hunter made a face and scratched the back of his head. “Nah, I got nothing. Sorry.”

“Yeah,” Mrs. Gold looked down at her empty plate. “I’m not surprised.”

Seeing that they were both done with their food, Ruby came up to the table. “Now is this gonna be one check or two?”

It was almost funny how quickly Hunter looked to Mrs. Gold. He panicked at the thought of paying for his own lunch. Daddy must not be giving him an allowance anymore.

“You invited me,” he said, almost chiding her with the reminder of how things worked.

“Yeah, that was my first mistake.” Mrs. Gold took the check from Ruby and pulled out her purse.

A fifty would be enough to pay for two hamburgers and Ruby’s discretion. Not that Mrs. Gold was being particularly sneaky, arranging lunch with her ex-boyfriend at the most popular restaurant in town. But that didn’t matter either. She could take Hunter to the pawn shop and bang him in front of the cash register and Mr. Gold wouldn’t give a fuck.

And neither would she.

****

Wandering listlessly up and down Main Street, Mrs. Gold tried to keep warm. The clouds were dark and heavy with more snow. The sidewalks were shoveled, but there was always a residue of dirty slush. It was the time of year when trash kept showing up in the streets, no matter how many anti-littering signs Mayor Mills put up.

Mrs. Gold’s suede boots were more fashionable than sturdy. The same could be said for her coat, scarf, and hat. The cold seeped through her flimsy layers, until she was nothing but numb and damp, until it was hard to breathe, until she was so desperate to be warm again she resolved to go into the next open store, no matter which one it was.

Sugar’n’Spice was always warm and it always smelled good. Mara Trudine burned a different scented candle every day the shop was open. Today the candle was cinnamon and cloves. The whole place smelled like cider.

Mrs. Gold entered as quietly as she could. She hadn’t been in the store since before Christmas. And she had never walked through that door without strutting proudly, loudly announcing her intentions to buy whatever lingerie it would take to drive Mr. Gold wild.

Was Mr. Gold even capable of going wild for her anymore? Or did the sight of her just turn his stomach? He thought she was trash, she disgusted him, he didn’t want her and he never would again.

Ducking behind a rack of silky robes, Mrs. Gold took a breath to calm herself down. It was a bad habit she’d developed lately, thinking of the worst-case scenario just to make herself feel something. Her mind kept poking and prodding at her pain, pulling out her darkest fears and putting them front and center. She could push it away if she concentrated. If she tried to act normal, she could almost feel normal. Sometimes.

“Oh hey.” Mara had spotted her from the sales counter in the back of the shop. “Mrs. Gold, I didn’t see you come in.”

Steeling herself, Mrs. Gold walked out from behind the robes. “That’s me.” She tried to smile.

Mara stayed where she was. Bits of fabric were spread out over the counter. It looked like she was sewing something.

Mrs. Gold’s heart skipped a beat. The fabric was a shiny yellow-gold. Sometimes, when Mr. Gold was really pleased with her, he liked her to wear that color. Without thinking about what she was doing, she began to walk towards the counter.

“What are you working on?”

Mara looked up from her needle. Even after all these years, she had the same face she’d had as a kid--sharp brown eyes, adorably crooked smile, freckles all over her round cheeks. She looked so innocent. You’d never think she made a living off of unmentionables.

“Custom order,” she said proudly. “I’ve been trying to get tailor-made lingerie off the ground for as long as I can remember. Got my first order in October and more have been coming in.” She held up the fabric and Mrs. Gold saw a pair of panties that would go up to a person’s rib cage.

“Somebody wants that?”

Mara’s excitement dimmed in the face of Mrs. Gold’s skepticism, but she did her best to explain. “It’s shapewear,” she said. “See the reinforced panels? The idea is to smooth out tummy rolls and make a more flattering silhouette.”

Mrs. Gold looked over at the rack of Spanx. “Don’t you already sell that?”

“Yeah, but the stuff I make is sturdier than the mass-produced product. Better for people with non-standard bodies. And prettier too. Nothing over there comes in straw yellow.”

It was true. Most of the stuff in that section was nude or black. Mrs. Gold knew a thing or two about wearing corsets, but she had never actually needed one. She had thought Mr. Gold liked her to be skinny.

“That is a pretty color,” she said. “Who’s it for?”

Mara looked at her dubiously. “I can’t talk about a client, it’s confidential.”

“How are you planning on getting more orders without word of mouth?”

“Well, normally word of mouth comes from customers talking about the product, not a creator talking about their customers.”

Falling into old habits, Mrs. Gold tilted her head back as her voice went up an octave. “I know, but it’s just such a pretty shade of gold, I was wondering if someone special might have ordered it...?”

She let the question hang. Mara just frowned and shook her head.

“Come on, you’re smarter than that.” She held up the garment again. “This is for a plus-sized woman. Two of you could fit in here without straining the elastic. Mr. Gold didn’t order this for you.”

Without thinking, she leaned over the counter and got in her friend’s face. “Did he order it for someone else?”

Mara’s eyes went wide. Her mouth transformed into a tiny little O of surprise. Mrs. Gold pulled away and kept her eyes on the ground.

“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Gold said. “That was out of line.”

“Wow,” Mara said softly. “I, uh, I’d heard that something had happened. But I didn’t know it was that bad. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.” She turned around, pretended to look at something lacy until the urge to scream had passed. When she glanced at Mara, her brown eyes were trained on her.

“It’s not from him,” she said simply. “I’ll even tell you that my client paid with a credit card, so it was definitely her own money.”

Or maybe Mr. Gold was just covering his tracks. But at least he hadn’t called in the order himself. At least he wasn’t flaunting his disregard for her.

“Does he… Have you ever heard from him? Is he buying anybody lingerie?”

Mara shook her head. “I only see him on Rent Day.”

With nothing left to lose, she asked her old friend the same question she’d asked her ex-boyfriend. “Do you know anybody named Belle?”

Mara blinked. “I don’t… think so. The name sounds familiar, but I’m probably thinking of a character from a book or a movie. It’s not the sort of name you hear around Storybrooke.”

“No,” Mrs. Gold agreed.

“But I’ll keep my ears open, if you want.”

Mrs. Gold raised her eyebrows. “What about client confidentiality?”

“Well, whoever Belle is, she’s definitely not a client. And until Mr. Gold pays me himself, neither is he.”

You’re a good friend.

This time, Mrs. Gold didn’t swat at the thought that intruded into her head. She let it rest over her brain like a blanket. She let the thought warm her up.

She leaned against the counter and watched Mara work. The shapewear was fully constructed, and she was embroidering stalks of straw in a pattern along the sides. It was really pretty. The sort of thing that would give a girl a boost in confidence and excitement about her own body, her own clothes. Mrs. Gold remembered how fancy she’d felt the first time she wore something as simple as a bra and panties that were the same color. That sort of energy could get people through interviews or contract negotiations, any time you needed to feel powerful. Mara was helping people here, she was good at it, and it seemed to make her happy.

“So, business is good?”

“Yeah, it’s picking up. Valentine’s Day was a madhouse, but you know how that goes.”

Mrs. Gold nodded. Lingerie could be as popular as flowers when it came to last-minute gifts that men always thought would be cheaper than they were.

“Did you spend the day with anyone?”

Mara scrunched her nose. “I’m working too hard for that. Besides, I don’t meet a lot of single men in this business.”

She was able to snicker at the joke, and she was able to mean it. “Yeah, I guess not.”

They were quiet together for a minute, then Mrs. Gold asked a more personal question: “How’s your mom?”

Mara looked up from her embroidery for a second, but then went back to work. “She’s fine. I think she’s bored, now that the preschool is only open for half-days. She keeps asking me to move in with her.”

“I take it you don’t want to?”

A halfhearted shrug. “I don’t have a good reason not to. It would make sense, we could split the bills and keep each other company. But there is also something really nice about living by yourself. Even if it’s just a one bedroom apartment on top of your store.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Mrs. Gold drummed her fingers against the counter. She had gone from living with her father to living with Mr. Gold. The night after their anniversary had been the first time she had slept in any building by herself.

But she understood what Mara meant. When you lived with your parents, it was hard to feel like an adult. To make matters worse, Irma Trudine--Mara’s mother--had been a preschool teacher for as long as anyone could remember. She tended to treat everyone she talked to like they were a four-year-old whining for more juice and crackers.

Mama’s closest friend.

Now the voice was annoying her again. It was true that Irma and Mom had been good friends. That was why she had grown up with Mara as much as she had grown up with her cousin Janine. The three girls were inseparable, just like their mothers had been.

Until…

Mrs. Gold sighed. She was warmer now. She should probably buy something before she moved along.

“Do you have anything comfy around here?”

“What, like no underwire?”

“No, like pajamas, I guess. Or loungewear? I think I need to get a pair of sweatpants.”

Mara grinned. “The last time I saw you wear sweatpants, they had dinosaurs on them.”

“And they were fucking awesome.”

She had gotten those pants for her eighth birthday and worn them until the knees gave out. Even after that, Mom had cut them up for shorts and she’d worn them for another six months. If she could find sweatpants that had dinosaurs on them now, she wouldn’t think the mere act of wearing sweatpants was a sign of the end of her life.

But Sugar’n’Spice only had pajama sets with flowers on them--or hearts, but Mrs. Gold couldn’t bring herself to buy anything that looked like love. It was enough to buy comfort, something that would make it a little easier to be in her own skin.

Mara rang her up and gracefully accepted the extra fifty Mrs. Gold handed her.

“How about I call this a down payment on a custom order for you?”

Taking her bag, Mrs. Gold shrugged. “I don’t think Mr. Gold will want me in lingerie for a long time.”

“I didn’t say it was for Mr. Gold, I said it was for you.” Mara looked her steadily in the eye. “Come back some time and we can talk about what you need. Okay?”

She opened her mouth, and then closed it. “Yeah,” she said at last. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Good.”

****

The day wasn’t over. Mr. Gold was still in his shop. She could go there for a few hours of awkward silence. Or she could go back to the house, for a few hours of lonely silence. Then he would come home and make dinner. They would eat together and make stilted small talk. And then she would go to her bedroom, and he would go to his.

That was their life now.

He said he wanted her to stay. He said he wanted to take care of her. He said he loved somebody else.

It didn’t make sense. It was wrong. They were supposed to be together. Being near him, but not being with him, trying to act like everything was fine, trying to act like he didn’t matter to her as much as she obviously didn’t matter to him…

It was tearing her apart.

So she walked. Like a circling shark, she kept moving so she wouldn’t drown. She was trapped. Storybrooke was a small town, there were only so many places you could go in one day. And she had lots of days ahead of her. Mrs. Gold had the image of the rest of her life, stretching out to the horizon. She would have to keep walking, she would never be able to rest. She would never have a home again.

She was in Old Town now. The flower shop was behind her. Aunt Teri’s yellow and purple house was on this street. How many times had she walked the route between those two places? Her whole childhood, her whole life until she married Mr. Gold and moved into his house. She used to belong in this neighborhood.

Was there a way she could belong here again?

Turning at the plastic sign that said Hair Today! she went to the side door of the yellow house and knocked. Then she stepped away from the door and waited for an answer. She held herself against the cold.

Janine came up from the basement salon. Her mouth opened when she saw Mrs. Gold.

“Oh hi,” she said. “Mrs. Gold, you don’t… usually knock.”

“Yeah, I’m usually a bitch to you and I’m sorry.” She hadn’t meant to start that way, but she couldn’t avoid the truth anymore.

Janine’s eyebrows raised and her sky-blue eyes--a family trait--went wide. “O...kay,” she said slowly. Stepping outside, she shut the door behind her. The cold made her keep her arms crossed over her chest. “What’s going on?”

“I…” She didn’t know what to say. She had started, but what was the next step? “Things suck, right now, for me. And I kind of suck too. And I realized…”

What had she realized? That no one in her family would help her in an emergency? That she had built her whole identity around one relationship and without that she had nothing? That she had spent years intentionally, maliciously, pushing away all the people that had loved her in exchange for a man who only paid her? That all of those things were really fucking shitty? None of that was a realization. Mrs. Gold had always known what her life was. But she was just now starting to care.

“I realized I’m sorry,” she said. “For as long as I’ve been with Mr. Gold, I’ve been so caught up in him and it made me a worse person. And I want to be better.” She looked at Janine. “You deserve a better cousin.”

Janine sighed, her breath visible in the twilight. “So the honeymoon is finally over, huh? Are you tired of him or is he tired of you?”

Mrs. Gold pressed her lips together. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. At the same time, she didn’t begrudge her cousin the snark.

“He’s tired of me,” she admitted softly. “And I’m kind of tired of me too.”

Now Janine looked more sympathetic. “What happened?”

“You didn’t hear? I thought everyone in Storybrooke knew by now.”

“Yeah, no, I’ve heard a lot of rumors. But I’m asking you what happened. What’s the truth?”

“He loves someone else.” The words slipped from her mouth like a burden off her shoulders. “Some Belle person. And like, like he loves her, Janine. More than he ever loved me.”

“Oof,” Janine let out a long breath. “Oh honey, that’s terrible. I’m sorry.”

Until now, Janine had been standing in the doorway, and Mrs. Gold had been in the driveway, with about five feet between them. Janine stepped out first, one arm open in invitation. The two cousins met in the middle. They didn’t hug, exactly, but they huddled together for warmth and comfort.

“Do you need to stay with us?” Janine asked. “We never did anything with Andrew’s room after--”

“No,” she shook her head. Mr. Gold asked her to stay with him, and even that had to be better than sleeping in her dead cousin’s bedroom. “I’m fine, I… He’s taking care of me.”

“What, like alimony?”

“No, we’re not… I’m not leaving him.”

Janine pulled away. “But you said he loved someone else.”

She nodded. “He does, but he doesn’t want the marriage to be over.”

There was a moment of silence while Janine’s face twisted in anger and disbelief. Then she burst out: “Oh screw him! Does he really get to decide that? That man is cheating on you and you don’t even get the satisfaction of walking away? Come on!”

Mrs. Gold couldn’t look her in the face. “It’s not as simple as that,” she said. “I--I married him, I need him, I…” The next words were small and soft: “I don’t want the marriage to be over either.”

Closing her eyes, Janine pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead. “I don’t know what to say,” she said. “I mean, the sanctity of marriage is great and all, but Mr. Gold has been nothing but bad to you for so long. And now you have a reason to get out, but you’re not taking it? Why?”

“Because this is different,” she said the words before she knew what they meant. “He’s different than he was when we got married. There’s something… good about him now. Something kind and gentle. Something that wasn’t there before.”

Janine rolled her eyes. “So now you have feelings for the monster?”

“He’s not a monster now. Maybe he was before--I can see that more clearly now. But now the only thing he’s doing wrong is… not wanting me. And it hurts, but it’s not an evil thing.”

He’s my husband and I love him. Can you understand that?

Shifting her weight back and forth, Janine kept her arms over her chest. “And he’s not… hurting you anymore?”

She shook her head. “Not even in a way I like.”

“Gross,” Janine said, matter-of-factly. “I mean, good for you that it used to be something you liked, but it is very gross for me to think about. Too much information is a very real thing.”

Both of them snickered at that. The years of lingering tension eased a little more.

“Can you at least stay for dinner? We’re having Spaghetti-Os a la Chloe.”

“Chloe’s cooking?” How old was she now?

“It was her idea. Under careful supervision, she is going to dump a can of Spaghetti-Os into a pot and warm it up. Mom might even let her into the spice cabinet for some basil.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun.” She shuffled her feet. “But I should get going. I still eat with Mr. Gold. It’s… weird.”

“I bet.” Janine put her hands in the pockets of her work smock. “Listen, I… I’m sorry. All this time… I could have been a better cousin too. We--I think the general idea was that… we were waiting for you to meet us halfway.”

“I get that,” she said. “And I never came close to halfway. Not with anybody.”

“Well, you did today. And I’m glad. We missed you.”

Nodding, she tried to keep the tears out of her eyes. All this time, she could have had her family. If she had just eased up on being Mrs. Gold, she could have been the same girl everyone had loved.

“I’m trying to make things better now, you know?”

Janine nodded. “I know.” They were quiet for a minute, then she asked. “Have you talked to your dad lately?”

“Not yet,” she shook her head. “Not him or Uncle Manny. I… I kinda thought I’d start easy.”

Janine half-smiled, half-winced. “Manny will be happy to see you. You’re the only niece he’s got.”

She snorted. “I’m the only daughter my dad has and that didn’t make anything any easier.”

“He loves you, Lacey,” Janine said. It was the first time Mrs. Gold had heard her first name in as long as she could remember. “We all do.”

#golden rings #rumbelle #rumbelle fic #ouat #you like ocs? I've got so many ocs

8 notes · View notes

atopvisenyashill · 8 months ago

Text

sidebar- listening to a podcast about this season of survivor w two former players (it was rob cesternino and cassidy clarke, if u watch survivor) and there’s a player on this season, venus, who’s been the outcast for a while, but last few weeks all her opps have walked out one by one and rob goes “i think she’s got kind of an arya stark arc going on” and before he could finish cassidy whispers into her mic “she’s no one” it was hilarious aksjd (he meant as in venus is going through her kill list and might get to the end alive) ANYWAYS-

some changes i’ve noticed

i feel like part of why the series stumbles is bc it doesn’t discuss lyanna as much as it should. having that added “we’ll talk about your mother when i return” scene right before robert & ned’s talk about jon snow’s mother And the targaryens was really good tho, narratively linking the two concepts.

HOWEVER i think like rhaegar & robert, d&d saw lyanna more as a puzzle than a person, but the whole point of lyanna is that she was a living breathing girl to ned and her death completely wrecks him in an irreparable way. so when they cut out his entire milk of the poppy dream sequence later on, it cuts out that she wasn’t just the answer to a riddle of “who was jon snow’s mother” but instead an integral part of the narrative whose absence defines the people ned and jon become. but i’m getting ahead of myself bc they haven’t actually changed anything here yet and the scene where ned and robert stop to talk is really good and more or less what happens in the book aksjdj.

i don't understand why they don't have catelyn thank summer for saving her and bran from the assassin. just another mind boggling decision and weird, unnecessary departure from cat's character

another unnecessary change is taking away ned’s fashionista tendencies smFh they don’t get nedcat at all

the way jaime is like oh ned is gonna be my bestie we’re gonna trade war stories we’re gonna flirt i’ll tell him about his brother’s gruesome death and he’ll be so grateful he’ll become MY best friend instead of robert’s and meanwhile ned is like, openly snarling the whole speech. the way ned’s mouth drops open at the GALL of jaime to say killing aerys felt like justice and jaime looks DEVASTATED and PERPLEXED that this man hates him so much when they’ve talked twice aksjdjd

okay first of all I DO IN FACT GET THE CHANGE of having bran say he had to have fallen whole robb insists he never falls, and we all know this scene lives forever in my mind but i also think it’s a) another weird departure from bran’s canon, very stubborn character and b) a PALE imitation of the talk in the dark between robb & bran where they say they’ll go on an adventure

that said, there’s something that Really fucks me up about the North having this culture wherein the sick and disabled are sent out in the winter to fight and die because they’re not like, worth feeding, but at the same time As A Disabled Person i guess finding it almost enticing to be given to the chance to like Die For A Reason ya know. you always have that out. And then here’s poor sweet Bran who it just never occurred to him that he would have to take that out and now it’s all he wants. anyways i’m crying ig

it’s the stubborn streak in him. he doesn’t want platitudes, he doesn’t want to be strong. his whole life has changed for the worse and he just needs to sit in it. it’s not fair and it all sucks and he’s just a kid!!!

the robert and barristan scene is another good one and it’s bc it plays into robert’s character, really elevates the elephant in the room of rhaenys & aegon, and the way barristan is just. disgusted. standing there consumed with loathing for everything he’s become, refusing to engage with being a driving force for why everything is this way. dragging jaime in to humiliate him in front of barristan, to humiliate barristan in front of jaime. the way barristan almost reaches out to jaime emotionally in a way he refuses to reach out to robert, but robert only gets angry and picks at them more.

“he said the same thing he’d been saying for hours. ‘burn them all.’” OH NOW ITS NOT SO FUN ANYMORE IS IT WISE GUY

gonna be honest i think the weapon talk between jorah and rakharo is one of the sexiest scenes in the show, listening to two dudes who are hit in REALLY different ways talk about their favorite ways of murdering people is really fun and hot to me also elyes gabel and amrita acharia were wasted on this show, they would have killed in later seasons smh

i don’t understand why they made the drogo storyline like a REAL TYPICAL sort of rape romance story. what was the point if they were just gonna be ~in love~ at the end anyway. such a weird choice.

do i love the change from “fear cuts deeper than swords” to “what do we say to the god of death”? like it’s fine. they should have kept both if they liked that line so much. the actor who plays syrio is so good tho he’s got such great chemistry with maisie, you really understand why syrio impacts her so much

that ending close up on ned’s trauma face is so good it’s such a shame they CUT THE DREAM SEQUENCE WHERE WE FINALLY UNDERSTAND WHY NED IS LOSING IT WATXGING ARYA GET FAKE STABBED IN THE GUT. ITS FINE. IM FINE.

general thoughts

“it’ll get easier” jorah is a useless binch just like aemon the dragonknight. what’s the point of your sword if you don’t kill your girl’s evil husband. go fall on it shithead.

i do love that jorah is like “ned is a little bitch for trying to behead me for slavery even tho it’s been illegal in westeros for like hundreds of years. but also maybe having a king that allows behavior like that is kinda crazy actually bc viserys is not right in the head. i’m not gonna reflect on that at all tho” iain glenn the actor that you are.

love the lannister breakfast scene. the way tyrion clearly knows but is pointedly talking around it. jaime thinks tyrion is the height of comedy and wants them to have a nice breakfast but cersei leaves haughtily halfway through even tho tommen & myrcella are having a good time. the Loaded Look jaime gives tyrion during the “life is full of possibilities” line, where he like,,,, Almost realizes Tyrion is saying something to him here emotionally about being disabled before he puts it aside to be self involved about the incest.

kit’s acting is always several degrees of magnitude better when he’s with other starklings. idk if he’s trying harder or if maisie sophie and isaac are so good they infect him with acting abilities.

there’s something fun about the cycles continuing bc joffrey gets drunk & belligerent like his father has a thousand times, but he doesn’t have half the skill or charm as his father and just gets his ass completely handed to him by a practical toddler with zero training. and he’s so embarrassed it helps snowball this situation into a war.

the kid who plays micah is real awkward. i'm not bullying i'm just saying.

“we all pray for prince joffrey’s full recovery” “pity you didn’t spare a prayer for the butcher’s boy” GET HIS ASS

have i mentioned how much i hate aiden’s acting. oh my god i’m not gonna get through this rewatch aksjsj

“war was easier than daughters” ned every emotion you’ve ever felt is harder to deal with than the war that’s why you’re so fucked in the head be so fucking fr with me rn lmao

septa mordane is a terrible guardian i think this can’t be understated

“she must take his side even when he is wrong” “but how could you let her marry someone like that?” GET HIS ASS

bran literally shivering with fear as nan talks my baby!!!!!!!!

“ah the starks. quick tempers. slow minds.” CAN WE SKIP THE EVIL VILLAIN MONOLOGUES TO THE CAMERA PLEASE

“i think we can outfox a ten year old” jaime you couldn’t even kill that ten year old correctly let’s walk before we run

nedcat giggling over ned throttling petyr and then making out in front of petyr’s establishment is amazing i’m literally so depressed right now i hope petyr cried into his pillow that night

the way both ned AND benjen just give the most ass goodbyes to jon for no good reason. are they TRYING to give him a complex oh my god

i think i’m on episode 4. once i get past season one i think it’ll be easier when the writing gets worse actually.

#rani liveblogs game of thrones #gif warning

3 notes · View notes

yournewapartment · 5 years ago

Text

Wedding Planning

It is impossible to write an entire post on all of the intricacies of wedding planning, because it would just be too long and frankly exhausting. But here are some of the highlights that I think will help people in need! There are also extensive sources on the internet that are way more in-depth, but here’s an overview for you…

The Venue

The first thing you should do when planning a wedding is to pick your venue. Picking your venue will likely inform what date you set to be your wedding date. Most venues have limited availability, and if you want a specific venue for your dream wedding, best get that locked down ASAP. You may already have something in mind! If you don’t, my recommendation is to look for venues that host weddings year-round.

Choosing your venue will determine how “hands on” you’ll have to be in regards to planning your wedding. Venues that specialize in weddings and similar events will come with an entire staff of vendors ready to go for your wedding. If you’re doing a DIY wedding (like I did) you’ll have to find your own vendors. On that note- choosing a reliable and trustworthy vendor is SUPER important. There are so many options, it can be overwhelming to choose which will be right for your wedding.

If you choose a venue that is specifically used for weddings throughout the year, you will have the EASIEST time planning the resources part of your wedding. The venue will provide contact information for trusted vendors including (but not limited to): caterers they trust (or they may even have an in-house chef), photographers, make up artists, flower arrangers, DJs or musicians, etc. Simply choose which vendors you would like at your wedding, and of course, if you find a different vendor you like better, you’ll be able to use them. The venue will also assign you a key person who will manage all of the comings and goings of vendors and employees at your wedding itself. This is different than a wedding planner who you hire, this is just specifically a point person for you to go to with any issues during the wedding planning process.

If you choose a venue that may not specifically be made for weddings but is allowing you to get married there, they may or may not have contact numbers of trusted vendors. You may or may not have a point person, and I recommend that you at least consult with a wedding planner to make sure that you have everything under control.

If you’re creating your own venue (that’s what I did) you’re completely on your own and will have to find vendors your own way! See “DIY Vendors”.

Wedding Planning

Setting the right deadlines and expectations for your wedding will help the process be as smooth as possible. The easiest way to do this is to use an app specifically made for wedding planning. There are many good options out there, but I personally used The Knot.

These apps will create timelines for you based on when your wedding needs. They’re easy to personalize and disregard tasks and plans that are not relevant to your wedding. For example, I didn’t have bridesmaids, so I removed all the bridesmaid-related notifications from my timeline so I wouldn’t get notifications about those tasks.

You’ll receive notifications on your phone, reminding you to accomplish specific tasks. You’ll know which tasks are overdue and the order of which you should accomplish specific things. You’ll also learn how much contact you’ll have with specific vendors before locking them down.

My favorite part of using The Knot was the fact that it gave me a realistic expectation of when I should accomplish specific tasks. Which things would take more time, how many meetings I would need to set with specific vendors, etc. As a newbie, having all of these deadlines already created for me was wonderful.

The Knot doesn’t just stop there. It helps you set up your honeymoon, rehearsals dinner, as well as writing thank-you cards.

DIY Vendors

Because my husband manages a restaurant that also does catering, he had lots of networking connections he used to secure reputable vendors for us. While you may not have that direct of a connection, someone you know does have that connection! I recommend reaching out to friends, families, co-workers for recommendations. People LOVE giving recommendations.

If you went to a friend or family member’s wedding that was local, ask them for any recommendations. Ask them what worked and what didn’t work.

If a friend or family member has a wedding-related side hustle, consider working out a deal with them. For example, my parents own a garden, and one of their workers moonlights as a wedding photographer. We hired her, and she turned out to be AMAZING. Of course, always verify someone is legit before hiring them by checking their references and/or website.

If you find a trustworthy vendor, ask them for recommendations on other vendors. For example, our caterer recommended an ice cream truck company that we ended up using.

Use your network! You can always make a post on social media if no one in your immediate circle can help.

Creating “Save the Dates”, “RSVPs”, announcements … etc

We used Vistaprint for all of our paper goods. But there are SO many websites out there to explore! These websites have many different formatting options and always allow you to create your own formats. Make sure you have high quality photos saved on your computer that you can use to create cute mailings.

If you use a website like Vistaprint to create your mailings, they’ll have templates specifically labeled for weddings.

Also simply searching “wedding RSVP” on Google will give you millions of ideas.

Shop around on all the sites and create a dummy program and or mailing to see which site is the cheapest.

Search online for discount codes! A lot of websites will give you a discount for signing up for their email list

ALWAYS order more copies than you think you need. You’ll find yourself adding people to the guest list last minute and will be glad you’ll have extra. You also want to have extra copies of everything for your wedding scrapbook.

RSVPs

Shocking thing that I learned about weddings- most people DO NOT RSVP! If they’re coming, they’ll assume that you know that they’re coming. Even if you haven’t talked to them in two years. They may even be insulted that you’re asking them to RSVP. It’s bananas. I invited just under two hundred people to my wedding, and only fifty five RSVP’d. I’m not kidding.

There are lots of ways to track the mail you send to your guests, but from my experience, none are foolproof. In all likelihood you’ll find yourself contacting friends and family and asking them outright. This wasn’t an issue for me, because I didn’t have a formal dinner. If you do have a formal dinner planned and need people to make reservations for food, you may have to send out multiple reminders to RSVP and set a firm deadline.

There are ways to track the mail you send using an app, such as The Knot. But they only work if you have every single person’s email address. That may work if you have a smaller wedding, but asking two hundred people for their email is a time waste and not something I was willing to do. However, my friend got married, and communicated with people exclusively using Knot emails. The Knot even offers to bug people who haven’t RSVP’d for you, which is a nice feature. The Knot also allows you to go on and RSVP for people, which they can later go back in and edit, which is what I used.

There’s always the old fashioned way of tracking RSVPs… track of who responds via a spreadsheet or written document. Utter madness.

Registries

Online registries are so common, that most major retailors or stores have their own. For example- Amazon, Target, Etsy, all have their own registries. You can set these registries up so that the items are shipped directly to an address of your choosing. There are also apps that allow you to make “wedding fund” registries where people can send you money that is then deposited directly into your bank account.

If you don’t want to use The Knot for anything else, consider using them for your registry. The Knot registry is easy to use and connects to literally every website. You can literally find something obscure on some weird corner of the internet, and link it to your registry on The Knot for people to buy for you.

ALL of these registries keep track of who bought what for you, which is super helpful for after the wedding when you’re feverishly trying to complete your hundreds of thank you notes.

“Wedding fund” registries are great. Usually you’re asked to set a goaled monetary amount and to explain what you’re using the money for. People who donate are charged a small amount for sending you money, but that is something they pay on top of what they’re sending you.

Make sure to include items from a variety of different price points!

Don’t put an overwhelming amount of things on your registry. I don’t recommend putting more than forty things. You can always replenish if needed (I did that once).

Many people won’t buy anything from your registry until the week before your wedding. It sucks.

People with either buy you exactly what you want from your registry, will give you cash or a check at your wedding (make sure you have a box for these), or will just give you something random that you don’t want. We had a beautiful set of bowls and dinner ware on Etsy requested on our registry, most of which was purchased for us. And my husband’s one aunt went on to the artist’s profile on Etsy, and ordered us something random that did not fit our color scheme AT ALL. So now everything matches, except these random ugly bowls that she bought us.

General Tips/Tricks

The “wedding surcharge” is real fam! Vendors will charge you more for your wedding then they will for a regular party. Avoid using wedding terminology when speaking to specific vendors, if you can.

Some people will simply not give you anything for your wedding. It’s mind boggling and never who you would expect. Try not to take it personally.

If you do not grant every single guest a “plus one”, it’s likely that at least a few people will text you angrily and demand that you give them a plus one. So may even just show up with a “plus one” without talking to you.

Your family WILL get super offended that you didn’t invite an obscure person you haven’t spoken to in over a decade. Deal with it in the way you feel is best.

Speaking of your family, wedding guests will likely reach out to your parents before reaching out to you. So make sure to keep your close family updated on all of the wedding details.

People are OPINIONATED and it SUCKS. Bless her heart, but my Bubbie spent the months leading up to my wedding predicting every choice we made would blow up in our faces. She helped bankroll the wedding, so we had to sit there and take it. Nothing blew up in our faces, the wedding literally went off without a single hitch, and Bubbie even apologized afterwards and said it was the best wedding she ever went to. That hoe was trying to tell us that an ice cream truck instead of a cake was a bad idea! What nonsense.

In conclusion- You do YOU! Weddings are super stressful and EVERYBODY is judgmental and has an opinion, even if they aren’t married. Even if they have no direct relation to you and haven’t spoken to you since you were a child. Be willing to hear other suggestions, but stick to your guns. LIE LIE LIE if you have to. It’s your wedding! Your friends and family may seem upset in the moment, even though that’s dumb because it isn’t their wedding, but in the end they will love your wedding for what it is, and will forget they ever complained.

#wedding #wedding planning #how to plan a wedding

403 notes · View notes

perseusjackson-jasongrace · 5 years ago

Note

omg just read your teacher au ahhhhh. Love it smsmsmsm. Any chance if a sequel because omfg I love you're writing and will take anything ahah. If not no biggie. But omg love your writing a lot ahhh. Sorry if this is a lot but wowowow.

Hello Anon! SO SO SO glad you enjoyed it! They are just the blushiest, most clueless losers aren’t they?

Also me whenever anyone says they like my writing:

THANK YOU DARLING!!!!!!!!

And i am but your humble servant so here is a continuation of the first part. This really was supposed to be a quick drabble and it ended up being 1,5K+ words but no-one is surprised at this point :/ ;)

Masterlist

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

The week passed by in a blur of classes, coffee, and contemplation over a certain black-haired, green-eyed professor. Jason was becoming fed up with how much he thought about the marine biologist, but everything reminded him of Percy Jackson.

Just yesterday he had passed by a little kid with a dolphin backpack and his first thought was Percy probably knows what species that is. It was such a bizarre and unexciting thought he almost knocked his own teeth in. Now it was Friday: the day he would be surrounded by Percy and everything marine related. He wasn’t sure he was going to survive.

With a deep, calming breathe he hopped out the car and headed towards the Biology and Oceanography building.

“Jason!” A bright voice called.

He turned around, a smile already taking over his face, “Good morning Percy,”

“How are you doing? You ready for today?”

“I’m doing great thanks. Kind of excited.”

Green eyes twinkled, “Well that’s nice to hear, at least one of us is.”

Before he could ask what that meant Percy shoved a cup into his hand, “I got us coffee. Figured we’d need the energy if we’re going to be chaperones for a bunch of over-excited sea creatures.” He winked.

Jason laughed, “Are they a handful?”

“Nah,” Percy chuckled, “They’re just excited for this because we haven’t been able to go for two years.”

“Good morning Prof!” An energetic yell from a dark-skinned, bouncy-curled girl echoed behind them.

“Good morning Hazel,” Percy gave her a dazzling smile.

“Oh and good morning Dr Jason. Prof told us you’d be joining the trip.” He didn’t have the chance to return the greeting before she plunged on. “I hope you’re ready for today, Leo and Frank are bound to do something dumb and end up in a fish tank,” She rolled her eyes, “You know they always manage to break something when we’re in labs. Isn’t that right prof?” She turned to Percy who was smiling unrestrained.

“Yep, I swear those two are more chaotic than I was.”

Jason’s mind immediately conjured up a twenty-one-year-old Percy, tucked into a lab coat and goggles; a frown etched into his forehead and his tongue sticking out in concentration; black hair probably poking up in all directions, and skin bronzed from a combination of his Hispanic heritage and a well-spent summer. He had no doubt the biologist had been a sight for sore eyes even then.

“What’s got you all caught up Dr Grace?” A voice startled him out of his thoughts.

He shook his head, smiling, “Sorry, not fully awake.”

“This is the very reason they invented coffee.” Percy laughed, tipping his own cup in point.

“Hello everyone,” A girl with flowers in her hair and about a dozen pins tacked to her backpack greeted.

“Hello Katie, I like the daisies.”

“Thanks Doc, they’re the easiest to pin down and I figured today was not the day for something elaborate like hibiscus or chrysanthemums. Too many petals you know?” She mused.

Jason was fast realising why Percy was so close to his students. They interacted with each other so easily and with completely unique personalities.

“I’m sure you know Dr Jason Grace,”

“Hello,” He smiled.

“Oh I most certainly know Dr Grace,” Katie grinned, giving her professor a look.

He didn’t miss the blush creeping up Percy’s cheeks.

“Where is everyone?” She frowned, turning to Hazel with a smile and a hug.

Percy checked his watch, “I don’t kn-“

A chorus of hellos, and how are you’s filled the space as students poured in.

“Guys!” Hazel squealed and rushed towards the group.

Once everyone had gathered around and gotten through their various catch-ups, they turned their attention towards their Professor.

“Right I see you’re all here so lets quickly do introductions and then we can pile on the bus. Everyone this is Dr Jason Grace, he’s a neurologist and a professor in the medical department. He will be our first-aid and a chaperone to help me handle you chaotic bunch.”

They all said good morning, exchanging glances and hushed whispers.

A curly-haired blonde grinned, “Hello Doc, how do you feel about swimming with sharks?”

Jason’s eyes widened, turning to Percy.

With a sigh the biologist gave his student a look, “Will, stop trying to get people to go shark-tank diving with you. I told you Dr Grace only has to do what he’s comfortable with.”

“Yes Prof,” The freckles on his face bunched as he smiled cheekily.

“Now let’s get going. We have a guided tour at ten and my mother said only two things are important in life. Punctuality and pancakes.”

“Yea, yea we know,” They all grumbled.

One torturous bus ride later in which Jason was only a couple inches away from Percy they arrived at the Conservation Center.

“Alright everyone, we have a tour now and then it’s free time till one. After that everyone meets up in the main exhibit so we can Feed the Fish and then we’ll make our way to the shark-tank diving for anyone who wants to do it.”

Even though Jason had no idea what was being said half the time the tour was still incredible. The way sea life interacted with one another was fascinating and some of the creatures were mind-boggling, in looks and in activity. The best thing about the tour though, was seeing Percy and his students light up, huge, curious eyes and rapt attention plastered to the various tanks. He knew it wasn’t a regular aquarium tour because the guide and Percy got into intricate details about the anatomies and functions of corals, fish, predators vs. prey and various other topics. The students were fully attentive asking and answering questions like they knew exactly what they needed to know and how they needed to know it.

When it finished at half-eleven the group were chattering incessantly, comparing notes and discussing all sorts of ideas.

Percy’s eyes were lit up with pride and passion as he thanked the guide and turned to his class, “Alright seaweed-brains go enjoy your time. Hazel, Leo and Katie please set alarms to be back here by one.”

“Yes Prof!” They shouted, already bounding away and into the exhibits once more.

“They will all stick together?” Jason asked, wondering why only three of them had to set alarms.

“Yea, they do everything together. I’ve caught them messing around in the library or all grabbing coffee at the café a number of times. I don’t know what it is about this group but they really like each other.”

“And you are very fond of them,” He observed, looking straight into those glowing green eyes.

“Yea, they’re complete chaos but they’re good people and they’re really passionate about my subject. It’s hard not to like them.”

“I’m sure with a professor like you it’s not hard to have passion about anything. I’m sure you’d make rocks interesting.”

“Actually,” Percy lit up, “Rocks are really interesting. There’s so many different types and they all have different functions. Also it’s fascinating to understand why some rocks look this way and others developed that way and-“ He cut himself off, blushing profusely, “Sorry you probably don’t care.”

“I think I care more now than I did before,” Jason grinned, willing to do anything to keep that brightness in those sea-green eyes.

Percy’s cheeks turned a deep shade of ruby, “I minored in geology because there was a lot of useful information regarding formation that helped with marine biology.”

“How’d you get into marine biology anyway?”

He shrugged, “I’ve always been fascinated with the ocean. It’s a whole ecosystem living by a completely different set of rules to land-systems. How did you get into neurology?”

“A lot of head injuries as a kid,” He smirked.

Percy burst out laughing, “What?”

“Yea, I fell on my head a lot as a child and I got a concussion a few times. It fascinated me that my brain could be impacted by it. I mean falling on your leg doesn’t generally stop you from walking, A scrape, maybe some blood and tears, and a band-aid is all we think of it. But falling on your head causes much more damage and it could affect your whole body.”

“That is... dedicated,” Percy gasped, still laughing.

“I was a weird child,” His mouth twitched in amusement.

“Any other strange anecdotes that decided your future?”

“Hours’ worth of them,” He grinned, “I can tell you about the time we lived near a wolf sanctuary and my mother thought it’d be a good idea to have me interact with them. I interned there for a little while so i’m pretty good at analysing wolf injuries and anatomy.”

“I-“ Green eyes blinked in surprise.

“Can I entertain you with my peculiar childhood over dinner? Tomorrow night?” He asked, voice scratchy with nerves.

The smile that graced Percy’s face could make flowers grow, “I would love that.”

“You would?” Jason could not believe what he was hearing.

“Very, very much. And I’m glad you had the guts to ask because I’m ninety percent sure my students were going to throw you in a shark tank and make me rescue you just to get us together.”

It was Jason’s turn to dissolve into laughter. He had never been so full of the future but gods it was invigorating.

#jercy fic #baby fanfic #baby fanfic series #jercy drabble #jercy #PJSSG asks #PJSSG fanfic #PJSSSG series #she speaks #Ciara's convos #jercy teacher AU

58 notes · View notes

anboringday · 4 years ago

Text

Tracey x Franklin: Just Friends

Summary: Tracey De Santa, a college freshman, has a crush on the most popular boy on campus, Chad Dillington. Determined to win his heart, she turns to her best friend Franklin Clinton for help. However, she never expected to start developing feelings for her best friend instead...

Word Count: 5.8k

Tags: Fluff!! And more fluff!! Slow burn. Friends to Lovers. (Post Ending-C)

Read on Ao3

Franklin barreled through the door of my room.

Carefully applying my eyeliner in the mirror, I glanced at him. Chiseled jaw clenched and hands balled into fists, a frown marred the space between his arrogantly shaped brows. His strong, muscled arms wired tight beneath his white T-shirt, he stood at the ready for battle.

His cognac-brown eyes searched my room from top to bottom for unknown threats. “Tracey? You good?”

“Um, duh. I’m always fine.” I returned my attention to my makeup. “I’m gonna need you to tone down some of that masculinity. It’s totally uncalled for, super distracting, and it’s ruining my good vibes—”

His warm hand came down on my shoulder. I stiffened, his eyes shrewd and accessing as they bored into me. “You sent me a text saying that you were dying, that you needed my help. You sure you good?”

His voice was soft, filled with concern. My gut kicked. Maybe I shouldn’t have sent that overly dramatic text, but desperate times called for desperate measures. I needed help. Badly. Dad was always busy doing movie director stuff, Mom was too preoccupied with shopping and yoga, and Jimmy was a complete idiot, so Franklin was the only person I could rely on.

It’s been that way for months. He picked me up from school, assisted with my homework, helped me take selfies for Bleeter, talked me through every one of my frequent mental breakdowns—he was a life saver, literally. Because he was so selflessly awesome, I decided to keep him around. Mostly because he did stuff for me, but he also had a nice personality to boot.

And we looked hella good together. Whenever we were out and about in the city, people would stop and turn their heads to gawk at our beauty. I was a celebrity after all, the sexiest girl in Los Santos according to my Bleeter stalkers. And Franklin was powerfully built, dark-haired with stunningly amber eyes. He was a man who looked absolutely gorgeous just about every day of his life. It seemed effortless for him, and I would’ve resented that if weren’t besties.

I confessed, “I lied to get you here, okay?”

“Tracey…” Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You scared the shit outta me, girl. What were you thinking—”

“Don’t be mad. I’m sorry.” I hugged him.

The tension in his muscles relaxed beneath my touch. I took his hand and flopped down on my bed. He sat beside me, our fingers intertwined. “A’ight, Trace. I’m here now, so what’s going on with you?”

“I have news,” I smiled. “The best news. You’re not gonna believe this, but Chad Dillington asked me on a date!”

He stared at me, his expression blank.

“Well?” I tapped his shoulder. “Say something! Aren’t you excited for me?”

“Who the fuck is Chad Dillington?” he asked.

“Are you kidding me?” Energy thrumming through me, I jumped to my feet. “He’s like the hottest, most popular guy at my university! He’s a quarterback for the football team, a committed member of the Alpha Omega Theta Pi—”

“The Alpha Omega what?”

“It’s a fraternity, Frank! Chad Dillington is a big effing deal, literally every chick on campus wants to bone him. He has the prettiest blue eyes and the cutest smile ever.” I twirled on my heels. “I can’t believe he chose me of all people to go on a date with. This is so, like, amazing!”

“That’s cool, I guess.” He shrugged. “You called me over here just to tell me that?”

“No! If there’s any hope in winning Chad Dillington’s heart, I’ll need support. Your support and guidance, in particular.”

His brows furrowed. “Uh…why?”

“Because you can help me understand him! Guys know what other guys are thinking, right? You and Chad have so much in common too. You’re both around the same age, you both like getting sweaty at the gym, you both like getting high—”

“No offense, Trace, but me and that preppy ass frat boy ain’t got shit in common. I’m sorry, but I’m finna pass on this one. Maybe one of yo’ friends at school can help you.” He stood and took off for the door.

“Wait!” I swerved in front of him, blocking the exit with outstretched arms. “You’re right, there are some stuff you and Chad don’t have in common. Like, for example, he’s way smarter than you and his parents are filthy rich.”

Franklin glared a hole into me, a muscle in his jaw twitched. Yikes. Probably shouldn’t have said that.

“But you’re sane,” I complimented. “Sensible, wise beyond your years, and levelheaded. You’re playing with a full deck, Frank. That’s a rarity in Los Santos, you know? Everyone here is crazy.”

“Including you,” he snapped.

“But you love me.” I hugged his muscled arm. “You’re like the ping to my pong, the yin to my yang, the butter to my bread, the chocolate to my milkshake…”

“That was cute until you mentioned the part about chocolate. Now it’s weird.”

“Frank, you have to help me!” I pleaded desperately; my mouth set in a pout. “I’m your best friend, you can’t abandon me when I need you most. It’s not fair! I’ll hate you forever if you do—”

He smothered my mouth with his palm, silencing me. “Fine, I’ll help you on one condition. No more whining and crying like a damn baby, it’s embarrassing. Makes my ears bleed, it’s horrible.”

I smacked his hand away. “Deal. Now shut up and listen.” Standing on the tip of my toes, I spoke quietly into his ear. “Chad invited me to a masquerade ball. It’s a top secret, invitation only party the fraternity is hosting at some old, underground speakeasy—”

“Girl, why you whispering?”

“Because it’s a secret. Mom and Dad can’t know about this, they’ll freak out. Promise me you won’t tell them. You know how overprotective they are, they never let me have any fun.”

“It’s all good, relax. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Swear on it.” I rose my pinky.

“I promise.” His finger curled around mine. “So the most popular douche bag motherfucker in school invites you to an invitation only masquerade ball…”

“Could you refrain from calling him a ‘douche bag motherfucker’, please?” I rolled my eyes. “Anyway, all the cool kids are gonna be there. The party is happening this weekend. Friday night. I only have two days to prepare. This is so short notice, I haven’t even picked out a dress.”

“Hey, you could always cancel.”

“No! A date with Chad Dillington is a once in a lifetime opportunity. I can’t back out now. I have to do this.” My stomach grew queasy and my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I paced the room, my fingers laced taut until my knuckles turned white. “What if I screw everything up? What if he doesn’t like me?”

Franklin appeared in front of me. I jerked to a halt, riveted to the spot as his searching gaze burned into me, glimmering with golden flecks. Lost in the intensity of his eyes, something shifted in the air between us.

As he stared back, he changed…as if the impalpable wall he kept between us began to chip and splinter. His tough, guarded demeanor crumbled before me, revealing a soft vulnerability in his eyes. A tenderness I had no clue he was capable of.

He patted my shoulder and squeezed lightly, affectionately. My skin tingled from the warm, steady pressure of his touch. “Of course the frat boy is feelin’ you,” he said softly. “He’d be crazy not to.”

My cheeks heated. Since when did he become so flattering? “You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” I mumbled.

“Nah. I mean it.” He reached into his pocket for his phone and started tapping away at the keyboard.

I peeked at the screen. “What are you doing?”

“If you’re going to a ball, you gotta know how to dance.” He pulled up a Bleeter video of dancers clad in silk doing the Waltz. “Think you can do that?”

“Uh, I dunno. Last time I tried to slow dance with a guy was at high school prom. I slipped and twisted my ankle in front of everyone. Super embarrassing.”

“Let’s make sure you don’t trip this Friday, a’ight? We can practice together.” He propped his phone on my desk and took my hand in his, the other rested on the small of my back. “You ready?”

Our eyes locked, I nodded weakly, my breath coming in short and fast. The contact was electric, I could feel the edgy energy radiating from him—like a magnetic pull that grew harder to reject by the second. He started moving, his strapping body gliding across the carpeted floor with confidence and easy rhythm. Jeez, when did he get so good at this? He was a natural! My knees wobbly, I followed his lead to the best of my ability.

I felt so small and insignificant in comparison to him, my movement stiff and awkward. And it didn’t help that I was petite, barely over five feet, and he was huge—a tall, deep brown slab of solid muscle and well-exercised strength. The force of his presence was difficult to ignore in a crowded room, and doubly so in an enclosed place like this, so close to me…

After a few beats, the heat of his direct, prolonged gaze became overwhelming. I lowered my head shyly.

“Chin up,” he instructed, tipping my head upward with a gentle push of his thumb under my chin.

Sucking in a harsh breath from the mind-boggling intimacy, I lost my footing and tripped over my own feet. He caught me in his arms just before I collided with the floor, his strong-featured face hovered over mine. Hit with all that striking masculinity at eye-level, I could only stare. Stunned. His beard was well-groomed, complimenting the hard lines of his square cut jaw, and his lips were like the icing on the cake…the fullness gave his rugged good looks the perfect touch of sensuality.

He helped me to my feet. “That wasn’t part of the dance, Trace.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” Pinching my lips together, I kicked a tube of old nail polish across the floor. “I’m never going to get this right. I’m so screwed.”

“It ain’t the end of the world. You still got time. Don’t give up, girl.”

“I wish I could be as optimistic as you are.” I sighed. “I’m sorry for being a bitch. There’s a lot of pressure on me and I’m taking it out on you.”

“It’s all good. I’m used to you being bitchy. I’m used to the screaming temper tantrums—when you beat yo’ fists against the floor and your legs start flailing like a fish outta water …” He grinned.

My stomach dropped. “It’s not funny.”

His laughter quickly faded. “My bad.”

An awkward silence filled the room. Twisting a finger around the hem of my blouse, I broke the quiet. “I’ve been working on my temperament with Doctor Friedlander. Do you think I’m getting any better?”

He leaned against the wall, his hands tucked casually into his jean pockets. “You haven’t had any episodes recently.”

“Because you calm me down right before I snap. Every time.”

“So why are wasting stacks on therapy, then? You’ve been seeing a therapist for what? Years? And you were still having panic attacks until…”

“Until you came along,” I completed his sentence. “I don’t want to become so dependent on you, Frank. It’s like, totally unfair to you.”

“Shit, I don’t mind. I ain’t going nowhere, unless you want me to—”

“No!” My heart lurched at the thought of losing him. Shocked by the fury of my reaction, I took a careful step away from him. “You wouldn’t leave me. You’d miss me too much.”

He stared at me for a moment, silent and thoughtful, his brow quirked.

I tensed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Uh, no reason.” He lifted the brim of his black Los Santos snapback to scratch his head. “I should probably bounce. It’s getting late, and you got class in the morning.”

“Wait.” I passed him his phone and gave him a brief good-bye hug. “Do you think you could give me some guitar lessons after school tomorrow? Music class is kinda kicking my ass. I could use the extra help.”

“Yeah. Of course. No problem.” He chuckled, seemingly nervous for some reason. “I ain’t the best with the guitar, but uh, I know a few things so…”

“Are you kidding? You’re way better at it than me.”

“Slightly better.” His teeth gleamed in a smile. “A’ight. I’ll hit you up tomorrow.”

I was a little bummed about him leaving, but he was right. I needed the rest so I could wake up bright and early tomorrow. I returned a smile. “Bye, Frank.”

“Bye, Trace.” He turned to leave but stopped at the door, his gaze shifted to me. “By the way, you don’t have to lie to get me here. You ain’t gotta send no dramatic texts or nothin’ crazy like that. If you need to see me, whatever the reason, just…call. I’ll be here in a heartbeat.”

A pang struck my heart. I swallowed deep, fumbling for words. Before I managed to find my words, he was gone.

With a heavy sigh, I collapsed on my bed. What was the matter with me? Why were my brain cells starting to fry around Franklin? I had a huge date planned with Chad Dillington, but for some reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about my best friend.

My phone vibrated on my nightstand. I grabbed it and found two new texts from Franklin.

Still thinking bout how tripped over your own damn feet earlier.

Girl, you clumsy.

Oh my god. With an embarrassed grin, I texted him back; Wow. You sure know just what to say to boost a girl’s confidence :P

He responded a minute later. What if I told you that I like when you’re clumsy? I get to pick you up whenever you fall.

I read the message with wide eyes and then powered down my phone, my nerves danced wildly in my stomach. There was an ache in my chest, and I rubbed at it. Jeez. Pull yourself together, Tracey…