#but this is really such a nice memory. childhood adventure with a kind stranger given treasure to go home

[machidielontheway]

Eating cherries and feeling like summer

[retroellie]

hi!! could i request ellie imagine/headcanon (whatever you want) where her and the reader used to be best friends but got separated for years until they reunite? like maybe the reader shows up in jackson

Summary: Reuniting with Ellie after being separated for 5 years 

A/N: Thanks for the request<3 I had this planned out so well but i got lazy lol, i hope you enjoyed and i added a bit of romance in it cause i’m a whore for this woman wbk (also again i didn’t proof read much so sorry) 

Warnings: None

Word count: 3.1k

You weren’t exactly sure where you were, all you knew was there was a town in front of you. Were they friendly? You had no fucking idea but you were exhausted, bloodied and bruised. This could just be a quick rest stop, you had nowhere to be and no one to see so it didn’t really matter much. 

“Stop right there!” a voice called out. 

“Hey! I’m not here to hurt anyone, I'm just a bit lost and I was hoping i could rest here.” You raised your hands in the air hoping they would just let you sit in peace for a minute. 

The man looked you up and down, trying to see if your intentions were good or not. He then whispered down to another man before turning back to you. You were silently praying he let you stay here, you just needed a couple hours.

“Okay, take her to Maria. You can leave your stuff over here.” He said, throwing a signal up. A signal that caused the door to open. 

You gave a small smirk of appreciation, so glad they let you in. They led you through the town, you saw how developed and advanced they were. There was running water, food gardens and even electricity. You’ve been around and you’ve never seen anything like this. 

They led you into a bar. There was actual food, not just beans that you have been eating for weeks straight. Your mouth was almost watering when you saw the meat and fresh fruits they had been serving. 

“Maria, we got a friendly or we think she is.” The man said. 

The woman, or Maria, was a tall blonde. She looked no more than 40, if her hair wasn’t greying you’d say she was in her early 30′s. She looked over at the 2 men and then at you, examining you. 

“You take her weapons?” She asked, sizing you up. You looked awkwardly between her and the men, her stare terrified you more than any infected out there. 

“Yeah, she’s clean.” The man replied. 

“Good, i don’t want to have to put a bullet in between your eyes.” She said, your mouth went dry. 

She signaled the men to leave and you wanted to go with them, you’ve been in rooms with men much bigger than her and so much more bossier but she terrified the hell out of you. She patted the seat next to her, not even looking over at you. 

“You look starved. Seth, get me something for this girl to eat.” She called out, she looked up at you. You tried not to make eye contact. “ What brings you out here.” She leaned closer to you. 

“Uh, I was out searching for supplies when some hunters attacked me. They killed my horse and stole some of my supplies, I chased after them but I ended up getting lost.” You explained, she sat there and listened. 

A man had brought you food, it was a burger and some fresh carrots. Not a combination you would go for but it didn’t matter, you were starved and you 're not gonna complain. You basically stuffed your mouth full of food, causing Maria to chuckled. 

“Well you're safe now, you can stay here as long as you need. Just don’t cause any trouble and we’ll be good.” She started, standing up from the table. “I’ll have someone come show you where you can rest when you get done eating.” She said, giving you a grin. 

“Thank you maria, you’ve been so kind to me.” You smirked up at her, mouth full of carrots. 

She shook her head and laughed, walking away. You continued to stuff your mouth with food, not caring if you were being impolite. They’ll understand, they’ve all probably been in your situation before. 

When your plate was empty, you decided to stay there for a minute. Waiting for the person that Maria sent to you. You looked at all the pretty paintings they had here, pictures of nature and horse, even some photographs of the people of the town. 

“I just don’t understand why they didn’t just kill her right then. It would’ve saved them the burden of making 2 more movies.” A voice stuck out to you, it sounded like you heard it before. 

You looked over past everyone and saw no one familiar, you did see a girl with auburn hair but that can’t be her, right? You saw her get bit, it couldn’t be. You just turned around, sitting back in your seat. 

“Oh hey, can i get a glass of water.” You said, perking up to ask the man who had given you the food. 

He gave you a small nod before disappearing into the back. You could really use a glass of wine or whiskey, but you didn’t want to be greedy. You sat back once more, your eyes feeling really heavy. This would be a nice place to live, it’s nice and cozy. 

“Ellie, it was the 80′s. They tried to drag out movies as long as they could.” A deeper voice said. 

That name, you thought to yourself before snapping your head back to look for the voice. You knew it wasn’t her, she was dead but you had to know who the hell this woman was. You looked at the auburn haired girl once again, trying to get a glimpse of her face. 

You watched her closely, studying her movements. She finally turned her head towards the bar, you saw half of her face. She had these freckles and you got a glimpse of her green eyes in the light of the bar. You sunk down in your seat, were you going crazy or is that her. 

“are you okay?” A voice said, you looked up to see the man with your water. You nodded. 

“Do you see that girl over there?” You asked, he looked over to where you pointed and he nodded. “Who is she?” 

“That is Ellie Williams, i don’t know much more than that.” The man said, leaving you once again. 

Your heart speeds up, pounding at an unbelievable pace. Was it really her? Should you go up to her? What would you even say? ‘hey sorry for leaving you and Riley to die, do you still wanna be friends?’ 

You sunk lower into your seat, hoping she didn’t see you. Every time you think of her, you see the way she did when she got bit or when she thought she got bit, or if she did get bit and somehow survived. You honestly have no fucking idea how she survived, you saw her get bit. 

You had a mental battle with yourself but you came to a conclusion, you were gonna talk to her. You felt so guilty about leaving them so if she beat you up or killed you it would make you somewhat even right? 

You slid out of the booth and walked over to her slowly, watching her and the man she was with talk about whatever they were talking about. Every step made your heartbeat a little more faster, ‘if she beats you up, you deserve it.’ you thought to yourself. 

There she was standing right in front of you, the man that was with her stared up at you confused about why you were hovering over her. You let out a sigh before you shaky tapped her. She turned around, you saw her full face and you couldn’t believe it was actually her. 

“Y/N?” She asked, letting a huge grin show before pulling you into a hug. 

You were so confused, why wasn’t she beating you up... you left her to die. You decided to hug back, feeling the warm familiar feeling of her embrace. All the memories of your childhoods together and little did you know 5 years later she would be a stranger to you. She let you go, still holding on to your arms. She looked at you up and down, seeing everything she missed for 5 years. 

“Why are you here??” She asked, still smiling 

“Uhh, I was attacked and I need a place to stay. so i stumbled on this place.” You replied, giving her a small smile. 

“Well,  you can stay here as long as you want. Your always welcomed here.” She grinded 

You were really happy to see her. You hadn’t been around other humans in a while so being here with your best friend, being safe again gave you such a rush. You had so many questions to ask her and you're sure she had some too.

“I thought you died?” You blurted out. She just let a low chuckled out and looked at her feet. 

“I thought you did too, i heard you got kicked out because of that entire “adventure” we had that day.” She started. “ i thought for sure you would have died out there.” 

That was a time you didn’t want to remember, you guys were just kids and they punished you like that. I guess 2 girls go infected that day, or 1 girl you guess. 

“Hey! I did pretty good out there, i’m still here aren’t i?” You joked. 

She laughed, looking over at the man she was with. He looked amused but confused, ‘you and me both man’ you thought to yourself. 

“Y/n, this is joel. He takes care of me I guess.” she said, causing him to nudge her jokingly. “And Joel, this is Y/n. She was my best friend back at that military school I was in. “ 

You reached your hand out to shake his hand, he looked down at your hand not used to shaking hands much anymore but he reached out your hand and shook it anyways. You smiled up at him, he was intimidating to say the least. 

“So you just passing through?” He asked, waiting for an answer. 

You didn’t really know honestly, this place was nice and Ellie was here so should you ask to live here or just pass through. You looked over at Ellie and then Joel, Ellie looked so happy. 

“Yeah, i was gonna stay a night here before i got back on the road.” You stated, Joel nodded and Ellie's smile dropped a bit. You knew she expected you to stay for good but that’s a really big decision to make at the moment. 

“Your staying the night!?” Ellie acted like she couldn’t believe it, causing you to laugh. “You have to stay over at my house! just like the good old days!” She was practically yelling, she didn’t change a bit. 

-

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“You live in a garage.” You said, looking around her poster covered walls.

There were paint brushes and paint covering things. There were books upon books of space and comic books, it felt like her room back in Boston. That was the room you both stayed in when you got scared at night, she would always hold you while you shook. It’s the thing you should've done when she got bit, she was so upset. 

“You don’t like it.” She asked, plopping down on her bed. 

“No, i like it. It’s very...” You paused, picking up the rocket shaped lava lamp. “You.” You finished, setting it down. 

She laughed, shaking her head slightly. You walked over to her and plopped down on the bed with her, laying back. You watched the star covered ceiling. She laid back with you, her head right next to you. 

You both sat there in a comfortable silence, you had so much to say, you had it all planned out but now that you were here you didn’t know what to say. You thought about all the times you, her and Riley had together. You guys were always in some kind of trouble, always talking back to teachers and just being a pain in everyone’s ass.

“Remember that one time for my 14th birthday when you and Riley made this birthday cake for me.” You asked, smiling at the memory. 

“And we accidently set your bed on fire trying to light the candles.” She added, laughing out at the memory. 

You laughed with her, throwing your head back. You guys were such assholes back then, it’s so weird how things have changed. You guys were all such good friends and now look where you were. You and Ellie were together, staring up at fake stars in a garage without riley... 

You started feeling bad again, it was all so fast. You found someone who you thought was dead and all the memories flying back to you, it made you sick to your stomach. Riley's face, she was so scared but her being so strong tried to cover it up to calm Ellie down. You reached out for ellies hand, something you guys did a lot in her room at night. 

“You know, i always think about that night..” she paused, trailing off, thinking about what and how to say this. “That night when you kissed me” She finished. 

You remember, how could you forget. It was probably the best and worst day of your life. You had been in her room, just like how you were now. You were holding hands, the rain was heavy on the window. You don’t know how it happened or why you did it but you leaned down and kissed her, she kissed back. That was also the day Riley came back and you saw them both get bit, you saw the marks and you left. No goodbye. 

Ellie sat up on her elbows, looking down at you and you up at her. Her hand caressed t’s way down to your thigh, Your body reacted to her touch. As much as you wanted her you couldn’t, you can’t get the image of her face out of your head and it brought so many questions. She leaned down, her lips almost on yours until you pushed her away. You shot up and walked over to the couch before turning to her. 

“Did I do s...” 

“Why don’t you hate me.”  You interrupted, eyes starting to water a bit. 

“Why would i hate you?” She asked, standing up with you. 

You paced around a little bit, all the frustration you had was building up. You couldn’t even forgive yourself so why was she pretending it didn’t happen. 

“I left you and Riley to die, I freaked out and split. it’s my fault.” Your voice cracked a bit, tears starting to form. 

Ellie moved in closer, she didn’t know what to say. In the moment she just believed it wasn’t anyone's fault, things like this just happened; she never blamed you. She knew Riley didn’t either. 

“Y/n..” She trailed off, her own tears forming. “It wasn’t your fault and you didn’t leave us there. We told you to leave, you were just doing what we said to do.” She tried to calm you down, placing her hand on your shoulder. 

“I should’ve stayed, you two were dying and i left.” You burst into tears, taking a seat on the coffee table in the middle of the room. 

Ellie let out a sigh, she didn’t like to remember that day. It was horrible for all of you, she stayed at  the mall for a while after that waiting to turn but she never did. She eventually had to shoot Riley, making that experience 10x worse. She tried to find you but you were gone, so she had no choice but to go to the fireflies. 

“It’s okay, we got bit, you weren’t. we wanted you to get out before all of us died.” She tried to calm you down, she would never be mad at you for protecting yourself. 

“Even if it wasn’t my fault, you still got bit.” You said, locking her in a place she didn’t want to be. “What the fuck happened, why didn’t you turn.” 

A breath got caught in her throat, she wasn’t prepared for that. She knew she would have to tell you at one point but she didn’t know it was going to be so fast. She sat next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“Y/n,” She started. “I'm not supposed to tell anyone but you're my best friend and I trust you.” 

She told you everything, every single detail of her immunity. She pulled up her sleeve to show a tattoo covering a bite sized scar. That caused you to cry even harder, if you were to stay in Boston for a little bit longer you could have helped her.  You thought maybe you both meeting again was a sign, a sign of what you had no idea. 

“I’m sorry..” you started, placing your hand on her knee. “I’ve always just felt so guilty for living. I thought i should've died with you two and me leaving without even saying goodbye, it made me feel shitty.” 

She placed her hand on top of yours, holding it once again. You put your head on her shoulder, more tired than you already had been. From the crying and exhausting memories you could pass out right her. 

“I knew it would, you’ve always been such a sap.” She joked. 

You punched her playfully, giggling at her dumbass. You both sat there for a minute, taking in the feeling you both felt right now. You were both able to get out everything you felt guilty for and everything you’ve been hiding, it’s been eating at you for years. 

“You should stay.” She spoke, breaking the silence. “I mean permanently.” She clarified. 

You wanted to but will you two ever be the same, the kiss and the death you felt things have changed. Good or bad change you didn’t know, you just didn’t want to live here and remember Boston every time you looked at her. 

“I don't know ellie...” You replied. 

You could hear her sigh, she shifted around. She turned to you once more and stared you down. You could feel a whole lecture of why you should stay coming. You were pleasantly surprised when she leaned in once again but this time you leaned in as well. Your lips touched, syncing together. It made your heart pound a mile and minute, you thought at any minute you could have a heart attack. She finally pulled away, smiling at you. 

“Was that your way of trying to get me to stay?” You chuckled out, her smile dropped. She knew she couldn’t get you to stay, you were always a loner even in Boston. You caught on to her sadness. 

 “Cause it worked.” You said before pulling her into another kiss. 

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(Credit to gif owner) 

[thecomposerofstories]

Information on Amy.

(Be warned it's a ~little bit~ long, any other pieces of information you want to know I'll gladly answer if you ask.)

~General Information~

Fandom: Toy Story.

Name: Amy the Ragdoll.

Nickname, if any: Amy, Ames, and Doll-Face(usually by more villainous characters or used in a joking manner).

Gender: Female.

Sexuality: ??? (I mean I know the gender of who she has a crush on, but I'm unsure on what her actual sexuality should be tbh)

Age: Mentally, mid-twenties in the first story second movie, thirties to forties in the third and fourth. Physically, she doesn’t have an age, but in regards to when she was made (the 1950’s) makes her fifty to sixty.

City they currently live in: San Francisco, apparently that’s where Toy Story takes place.

Any pets: Would Rex count? He just follows her around like a nervous puppy.

Current occupation: I mean she’s practically a therapist, but she’s a toy and she only treats Rex so it probably doesn’t count lol

~Physical Appearance~

Height: 10 inches.

Body type: Stocky, but a bit gangly too, similar to Sally from The Nightmare Before Christmas.

Eye colour: Black.

Skin tone: Light.

Clothing style: Pale green/turquoise shirt with short puffed sleeves, with a denim dungaree dress with a daisy print in the centre over it. She wears yellow rain boots.

Hairstyle: No style, it’s just there. It’s messy and gets in her face easily and is made out of dark brown thin string.

~Speech/Language/Communication~

Amy speaks quietly and politely, rambles a bit if left without a reply or under pressure, very nervous in front of intimidating characters.

First language: English.

Learned languages: A bit of Spanish (Ya’ll remember Toy Story 3!)

Accent: American.

Pitch of voice: High, but soft, not quite annoying, unless she’s stressed, then it gets very pitchy and shrill.

~Behaviour/Habits~

Amy tends to just stand there when she can’t find anything to do, and will immediately try to find Rex, Hamm, Buzz or Jessie if surrounded by strangers (Though she’s not sure if it’s for their comfort or her own) Amy is very polite.

Spending habits: She doesn’t like to be made a fuss of at all, the very fact of someone giving something to her is unnerving (even if the thing never costed anything at all) and she feels compelled to give the giver something in return.

Morning routine: She gets up same time as the others, but wishes she could stay in bed a bit longer though. Before she came to Andy’s room, her sleep pattern was all over the place.

Bedtime routine: Similar to above, now she goes to bed the same time as the others, but before she just slept and got up willy-nilly.

Nervous habits: Amy will try to find Rex if she’s nervous, and she’ll pretend it’s because she’s worried for him, which is quite true, but she also just feels most safe with him. Speaking of, Amy will let Rex hold her hand and squish it whenever he or Amy is nervous, it’s calming to the both of them.

Bad habits: Not a very good exerciser, but then again, she’s spend basically half her life in a small attic, so I’ll give her a break.

Skills/talents: She’ very logical, mind-over-matter, (mostly, very good at calming others down and/or convincing them. She’s very good at spelling and knows quite a lot of words, some of which others haven’t even heard of.

Hobbies: Reading, talking (especially with Rex, Jessie or Hamm), and generally just lazing about or walking around somewhere, on her own or with a friend.

~The Past~

Amy’s first owner was a little girl called Alice. Alice loved nothing more than to read Amy stories (Mostly fairy tales), but of course, Alice grew up like all kids do, and she left Amy in the attic for someone else to have her.

Amy waited for many years, and all that time she’d never given up that someone would find her.

She thought she’s hit the jackpot when Andy and his family move into Alice’s old house, but they don’t go up into the attic to collect her. Some weeks later, though, Andy’s mother brings a set of boxes filled with junk into the attic and leaves. Woody, Buzz, Slinky, and Rex were trapped in one of the boxes (Call me a cheater but this part was actually inspired by a Toy Story comic, where those four toys get stuck in the attic that way and have to escape. It struck me odd that they never met at least one new friend there, so I made one. It was also my first story, I needed some inspiration!)

Amy, in a fit of panic, goes and hides.

But then she’s found by Rex as he and the others try to find a way out.

They then decide to let the strange, dust-covered ragdoll come back to Andy’s rom with them. (well, Rex did, anyway.)

Home town: Would Alice’s old room count? But it’s now Andy’s Room, so it won’t count will it?

Happy or sad childhood: Pretty normal to be honest, as normal a life as a toy could have anyway. And as for sadness, having spent all that time on her own for all those years, having missed out on so much, is a little sad. But Amy made sure she never became bitter over it or used it as an excuse for anything.

Earliest memory: Waking up in her toy store, with a friend of hers for company (a ragdoll Prospector, a much as she remembers) and as she gets bought by Alice’s Auntie, she says she hopes he gets picked up by a kid. (Unbeknownst to her, she would meet him again in a while to find out he never got to experience it)

Saddest memory: One, being left by Alice, yet being so happy for her and how much she’s grown up, if she could cry tears of joy for her owner, she would. Two, some (or most) of the days she spent waiting for a new owner to arrive. And three, watching Rex have a mental breakdown of anxiety.

Happiest memory: One, the time she and Alice went to the park, (Amy absolutely adores nature) Two after sliding down a drainpipe to get to Andy’s room, and three, having known she’d helped her friend out.

Significant events: Being bought, being left in an attic, being rescued from the attic, while gaining some new friends.

~Family~

The entirety of Andy’s room, whether they like it or not, they’re all in this together and are some kind of mish-mash, found family in a sense.

Siblings: I’ve been thinking of giving Amy a brother (since I based her on Raggedy Ann, a matching bootleg Raggedy Andy seems reasonable) bur I’m unsure about it, since I’ve already mapped out Amy’s entire series of stories (Around six or seven all together, so far I’m currently writing only the third) and I can only fit him in the fifth or sixth if I can.

~Relationships~

Romantically? I’d like to say she has a crush on Rex, I don’t know why I thought of it, I was contemplating it one day as I sketched a rough (and terrible) sketch of her, and I drew Rex too because he’s just so fun to draw and I wanted to make a scale for Amy’s size, and one of my friends (who had been watching me) immediately said “I ship it!” and well, the rest is history, I made the decision to ship it too.

Friends: Jessie, Hamm, Buzz, and Rex are her closet friends, but she’d like to say that all the Gang are her friends. Later on she becomes good friends with Mr. Prickle Pants, Buttercup, Trixie and Totoro, and she absolutely loves the peas and Forky.

Best friend(s): Hamm, Mr. Prickle Pants, Jessie, and Rex.

What do people like about them? Amy’s pretty easy to talk to, she’s polite and attentive and will sit in companionable silence with someone if they need it. But she won’t hesitate to give hard truths and advice if it’s needed.

What do people dislike about them? Amy is quite a doormat, if someone is rude to her or breaches anything she just lets it happen, and sometimes she’s too indecisive about her own stuff, unsure whether she’s going to offend others or not over the smallest things, which annoys others quite a bit.

~Mentality/Personal Beliefs~

Amy is a toy of logic, and though she believes others can do it if they set their minds to it, she doesn’t quite believe in herself. She believes she must follow the rules of being a toy at all times, no matter what.

Phobias: Dust. She hates it. It took a good five weeks to brush all the dust out her hair and clothes, and even so there’s still some in her pockets and places she can’t reach. And being alone, too. Now she can’t be alone for more than an hour before she starts to get antsy and nervous. And for a short time books gave her a strange tiredness, after reading them for so long and for so many years she couldn’t even stand the sight of them.

But of course, not for long, since Amy found out Andy had a copy of Red’s Dream by a Mr. William Reeves.

Optimist or pessimist: Depends on the situation really, if her mind can’t come up with a solution, then there’s no point in trying anymore. Unless someone else can think of something, that is.

Personal philosophies: “You are here to make good things happen. No person here is made for one reason only, or even only one. There’s no point in pretending to be someone you’re not just for the attention of others, no matter how cool they are. We should find are own meaning, as we’re the only ones who have control of it.

It’ll take a while, but I swear, it’ll be worth it.”

Biggest dream/wish: Amy wants nothing more than to find meaning for herself, but finds it rather hard to do so. Of course, that doesn’t mean she’ll settle for someone else’s meaning. As cheesy as it sounds, she just wants an adventure. She doesn’t necessarily want to be the hero, though, she’s just happy to go along with the ride so long as it gets her out the house for a few hours. She also, above all else, wants Rex to find meaning too, even if she never does, it would be nice to know that he had.

Greatest strength(s): Persuasion, story-telling, logic, and good grammar.

Biggest flaw: Despite being a ragdoll, Amy can’t sew because of her fingerless hands, which are just soft mittens in shape. Amy is also quite a doormat, as I said before, so if her calm persuasion and reasoning doesn’t work, she’s left to be walked all over.

Regrets: Staying in that dratted attic too long, the window was open, she could’ve just climbed out, but no, she had to stay there for some mind-rotting decades. But if she had just escaped, she would never have met her new friends. Amy just wishes she had met them a lot sooner.

Achievements: Escaped the attic, slid down a drainpipe, leapt onto the windowsill (though nearly knocking Woody and Buzz over in the process) stopped her friend from having a panic attack, and managed to remember the entire Dictionary and is able to recite it down from A to Z, and even Z to A.

Secrets: Not much, just strange feelings for one of her friends, but it’s not much of a secret, Bo knows, and Mr. Potato Head and Hamm could see it from a mile away, and the others have their suspicions.

Goals: Read the entirety of Andy’s (and later Bonnie’s) bookshelves, become more confident in herself, have her own book-worthy adventure, and figure out what those strange feelings for her friend is.

~Likes/Favourites~

Favourite colour: Even before meeting Rex, Amy’s favourite colour was always green. Every time Alice had taken her to the park, Amy adored watching the sunlight pour through the leaves with a golden-green glow.

Favourite book(s): Because it’s sentimental to her, being her owner’s favourites, she loves Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Peter Pan, and The Wizard of Oz. They all hold similar plots (a little girl in a blue dress goes to a fantasy land, has a few adventures, and then leaves said fantasy land to go home to her family and responsibilities) but it reminds Amy of her old owner Alice (who was actually named after Alice from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland) and their playtimes together.

Favourite Book Quotation(s):

“Green is the prime color of the world, and that from which its loveliness arises.”

“There is no living thing that is not afraid when it faces danger. The true courage is facing danger when you are afraid.”

Favourite movie: Amy does much prefer books, since they allow her to imagine the setting and characters in her own way, but doesn’t mind movies, and isn’t picky on what they watch, though she does quite like horror films.

Favourite song: Amy likes any kind of music, new or old.

Favourite game: Amy never really cared for games, the competitiveness always bothered her and stressed her out. But she’s more than happy to watch Rex play his video games and cheer him on.

~Relationships with other characters~

~Rex~

- Hit it off pretty quickly.

- Amy helps him with his anxiety, and helps him find confidence in himself, she acts as a certain therapist to him.

- Both become very stressed without the other around.

- Rex will hold and knead at Amy’s hands sometimes; it calms him down.

- Rex will let Amy ride on his back if she’s tired or needs to see something (Because she’s so short).

- One of them can basically be talking about the most boring-est things ever, yet still the other will hang on to their every word.

~Jessie~

- Became friends pretty quickly.

- Will drag Amy along anywhere.

- Get along fairly well.

- Jessie does the talking and Amy does the planning.

- Jessie always pranks the other toys and makes Amy tag along (along with Hamm).

- Introvert/Extrovert dynamic for sure.

- Both were left in alone for years so like to find solace in each other.

~Hamm~

- Hamm begrudgingly warmed up to the timorous ragdoll.

- Surprisingly good pals.

- Have full conversations without saying anything.

- Like to sit and look out of the window together.

- Hamm makes Amy laugh when she really shouldn’t (mainly when he makes fun of the other toys, mainly Woody).

- Hamm makes fun of Amy having a crush on Rex every once in a while, though he doesn’t mean any harm.

~The Potato Heads~

- Mr. doesn’t really interact with Amy much, but finds her surprisingly tolerable, if a bit high-strung and annoying.

- Like Hamm, Mr. makes Amy laugh at the most wrong moments.

- She and Mrs. Are quite good friends, and she sometimes lets Amy take care of the aliens if she and her husband are busy.

~Woody~

- Are aquianteces.

- Don’t exactly interact much, even though the whole room practically revolves around him, in Amy’s opinion, though she would never say it to his face.

~Buzz~

- Amy thinks he’s super cool (then again, he is Buzz Lightyear, he practically invented coolness)

- Both are just as clueless as one another when it comes to social cues and interactions.

- Amy helps him with vocabulary and spelling every once in a while.

~Mr. Prickle Pants~

- Are absolute BFF’s.

- Go back and forth with book quotes to the point of driving the other toys insane.

~Bo Peep~

- Amy's not exactly sure if Bo has befriended her or not.

- (She has)

- They later become good friends.

- Amy misses their talks, Bo was one of the only toys she could talk to that could keep a secret.

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 5.7}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5.4k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

"What's this?" Robin asked before her eyes would be tempted to simply read, and intentionally kept her gaze locked with his to avoid just that.

"My reason." He stated calmly, but before Robin could even voice any of her protests, he added, "Just get over it and read, will you?"

Thus, Robin merely nodded and finally gave in to her curiosity. The crawling of her skin lingered nonetheless.

I have been lenient in the past years, but this time I need you to take care of an issue I have with the ministry. I believe you know enough people, have enough connections there. It should be easy for you, and thus the very least I can expect of you after so long. I need you to clear up the charges held against me for good, as soon as possible.

Happy birthday,

Mom

For a moment, Robin kept staring at the words as she waited for them to start making sense to her. When they didn't, she started with the only thing she understood.

"It's your birthday?" She asked in a weirdly croaky tone that was rather reflective of the disconcerting and cold irritation she felt after reading this.

"No."

"Then consider me entirely confused." Robin's brows furrowed in both concern and insecurity, and she probably conveyed just that as she looked up at Snape at last. He didn't seem uncomfortable at all, even though they were moving into yet uncharted territory.

"My mother seems to be involved in some kind of conflict with the ministry, but I have no idea what it is about. We haven't spoken a word in many years." He explained with a sigh. "But she seems to believe that I will see to it that whatever charges are held against her will be dropped."

"Will you?"

"Of course not. I have no intention to get involved in whatever business she has gotten herself into this time. Even if she seems to believe that I must."

"She, uhm… she didn't really phrase her request all that nicely."

"She never has. It seems to be a common mode of speech in pureblood families."

"Oh, so you're…?" She couldn't really bring herself to say it, and she blamed herself for sounding so surprised. It wasn't even unlikely!

He sighed again, rolled his eyes to himself about something, and then leaned back in his chair. "No. My father, unfortunately, is a muggle."

"...unfortunately?"

"I meant to say that it's unfortunate that he is my father, not that there is an issue with my father being a muggle." He clarified immediately though, as he obviously only now realized that what he'd said might actually be misunderstood. "He isn't what you would call a decent man."

"Seems like an odd couple…" Robin mused before she could help it.

"You could say that, yes. They split years ago; I haven't spoken to either since."

"So this is the first thing you hear from your mother after years of silence?"

"Yes."

The thought angered Robin with a start, and she frowned down at the paper she was still holding in her hands. Sure, her own mother wasn't perfect either, but this woman was just… horrible. Why would someone talk to him like this?! And as it seems, she had always done so. The thought filled Robin with immediate hatred for a person she didn't even know, and it urged her to act.

"Sorry if it's not my place to, but I just have to say that I can't stand this woman." She spoke in an instant, and she meant it to the very bottom of her heart. "I might not know her, but I still think she's a terrible person."

"That is the very conclusion I came to as well." He replied with a small smirk. "And the very reason why I will not help her. She has no right to demand that of me."

"She seems to believe that she does, for some reason I don't understand."

His expression fell into that of disdain, but it was not directed at Robin. "In… my childhood it was expected of me that for my birthday I give a gift to my parents. To prove my gratitude for what they sacrificed for me. It was a pathetic excuse for their own craving for recognition, and it seems that my mother remembered it just in time to wrap her demand in a veil of her own nostalgia."

Robin didn't know what to reply to that; she merely stared at him in a way that couldn't possibly convey her thoughts. What he'd just said was terribly sad on its own already, and together with everything else she was learning right now, it painted a heartbreakingly bleak picture of his childhood, and his family. Even if the fact that he actually shared all this with her was delightful, Robin was very far from happy. But she also was far from pity, because pity was for people who had lost and given in. And he was the very opposite of that.

"Why now? You said that it's not even your birthday…" She finally asked, and even though she didn't want to be inquiring for more than he was willing to share, it still was better than anything else she could have said in return.

"No, but it is my father's. That obviously is close enough, if it's not all the same anyway."

And here Robin was, thinking that her own parents didn't care. Her heart broke even more for him, and she finally understood why he'd been so upset all day. She could only imagine that hearing from someone after such a long time, especially in a way like this, brought back memories, no matter if they're good or bad. In this case, they seemed to be even worse. But he had moved past it enough to even tell her about it, which was something she still couldn't believe was happening.

"When is your birthday then?" She finally wondered, leaning her head to the side with a small smile. Maybe they could move past the darkness, but keep the honesty.

"Why do you want to know that?" He frowned, slightly doubtful but not defensive.

"I'm trying to win an argument." Her smile widened ever so slightly as his frown deepened. "Wasn't that what you said about telling people when my birthday was?"

"It was indeed, but I do not see how you could win an argument by knowing on which day I was born."

"No, but by proving to you that it's not all the same. Because to me it isn't."

"Will you stop bugging me if I tell you?"

"No." She replied easily, with a smile in return to his exaggerated eye rolling. "Where would be the point in that?"

"I was born on the ninth of January in nineteen sixty, in a town called Cokeworth in England. Are you content now?" He sighed in annoyance that might have been feigned or real, or maybe both.

"I am indeed. Was that really so difficult?"

"Yes." He stated in absolute seriousness, in honesty, and Robin immediately felt bad for pushing him into telling her. Just what she had not wanted to do.

Her eyes clearly reflected her regret, but she held his gaze nonetheless. "I… I shouldn't have asked. I'm sorry."

"I am not."

"Huh?" At that, Robin's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"I am not sorry that you asked. However I'm not used to conversing about my personal matters, nor do I usually choose to. So this really is… difficult, as you put it." He replied calmly, and Robin felt like she could finally breathe again.

"I didn't mean to be difficult."

"You challenge me, that is entirely different."

"Good different or bad different?"

"That would depend on the person you ask."

"I'm asking you."

"I wouldn't like you half as much if you wouldn't challenge me."

Robin's lips curled into an unstoppable smirk. "So you admit that you do actually like me?"

"I take that back. You are insufferable and I cannot stand you."

"You know that you like me." She couldn't help grinning, especially at his feigned annoyance. It really was reassuring on so many levels.

"Unfortunately." He sighed with a not-smirk, and Robin's heart did an instant happy dance. That he did in fact like her wasn't news, but he had never straight out admitted it before. That was enough reason for her heart to soar. "But do not believe that this… redundant discussing of my personal affairs will be a regular thing now. I was cruelly bribed with cake tonight."

"I really should bring you cake more often then."

"You can try."

"I will."

"I know." He huffed, but with the tiniest of smiles that made it rather clear that he wasn't actually opposed to the idea. Robin wouldn't push him though, not tonight and not in the future. It was just like with the sassing… there was a line that could be walked at times like this, but it should never be crossed. And just to be safe now, Robin moved a step away back into safer territory. She had learned so much about him, and he had shared more about himself tonight than in the past few years combined. That was already quite enough to turn Robin's insides into a puddle of mushy tingles.

"Do you see the dawn from in here more often?" She asked after a while, and watched the light of morning creeping through the small window more and more. It was incredibly cool toned, especially in comparison to the usual candlelight she had lived by for the past days, but it also brought a breath of serenity into the office.

"Rarely. Hardly ever."

"Neither do I. See the dawn, I mean."

"Unsurprisingly, I only ever stay up until dawn when you happen to get yourself in trouble."

"Today I didn't." Robin complained lightly with a chuckle, and the desire to go out into the courtyard to watch the sunrise bubbled up within her mind. Probably it was too cloudy for that though, especially now in December.

"Indeed. This time I kept you up all night, which hardly makes it any better, if not all the worse."

"I prefer it, actually. It makes the break of day quite the bit more enjoyable."

"Still I do not like the fact that you lost sleep because you spent the entire night helping me."

"I absolutely do not mind in the least. Not at all." Robin took her eyes off the window and looked back to Snape at last. "I would do it again any time."

"Would you now?"

"Yes. I would even be happy to." The ease of her voice that yet conveyed absolute certainty lingered in the room for a moment, as its soundless echo was louder than the silence. Snape looked like he was actually short for any decent reply for once, and Robin understood that. She didn't know what she would have wanted him to reply either.

"Will you at least promise me that you will use today to rest?" He finally asked, and Robin sighed.

"I can't. Sorry…"

"Whyever not? Do you have work to do?"

"No, but I have made another promise, and that makes it impossible to do what you ask for. I make no promises I know I cannot keep."

"What would that be about?" It wasn't an accusatory question, nor a demanding inquiry, but rather sincere curiosity, and Robin had to smile at that. She didn't have to explain herself if she didn't want to, it was her choice. Right now, they were nothing more and nothing less than two people having a chat.

"I promised Cas and Jorien that I would tutor them today, and that usually takes a while. They couldn't find decent books on their current topic, so I will have to teach them a few things myself."

"What subject?"

"Potions, actually." Robin couldn't help smiling at him, and once he raised an eyebrow she straight out laughed. "I told them not to use the textbook for assignments, so now I have to deal with the consequences of that."

"There are decent books on the current second year topic, you know that." He pointed out, but Robin's grin still didn't falter.

"I do know, and I gave them one to start with last night. But as far as I'm aware they have to turn the essay in on Monday, and I can hardly have them read all of my books before then."

"So you will teach them the topic."

"Yes."

"In my subject."

"Yes…?"

"Doesn't that count as cheating?"

"Not if you don't tell the professor." Robin replied with a smirk, and for once she got a chuckle in return. "No but seriously, I don't write their essays for them. I give them information on all subjects they come asking about, and what they do with it is their own business."

"And today you promised to give them a lesson in potions."

"Yes. Right after breakfast so that they can use the afternoon to write the essay. Speaking of breakfast, I believe it has already started… Should we be going?"

"Since neither you nor I are obviously going to find any rest until afternoon, we might as well."

With a smile, Robin rose to her feet and together they made their way towards the great hall in comfortable silence. However before they passed through the huge doorway and thereby into the line of sight of other people, Snape turned to Robin once more.

"Seeing as I obviously could never convince you to break your promise to your roommates, I was wondering if you, perhaps, would be willing to include a few other students in your tutoring today. I happen to have three or four other second years in mind who could use some extra help with the current topic in my class."

"I… have never tried to tutor so many people before, especially not people I don't even know. But sure, if I'm gonna talk about the topic already, I guess I don't mind if a few more people profit from hearing it. If you really think that's a good idea…"

"I do indeed. I shall see to it that the individuals I have in mind will find their way to my classroom after breakfast; it should be preferable to any other place in the castle for this occasion. And I have work to attend to in my office anyway."

Robin's lips curled into a smile before she knew, then into a smirk as she caught on to what he was doing there. "Sneaky." She said, and didn't even try to hide her amusement. "I'll gladly tutor a few more people, and I'll very gladly use your classroom for it. But you know, you could have just asked if you wanted to keep an eye on what I teach them. Or simply admit that you're curious."

Snape gave her a glare that did nothing but make her smirk even more, then he turned back towards the door with a not-smirk of his own. "You do spend too much time with me indeed."

"Not nearly enough." Robin wasn't sure if he still heard her words or not, as he pushed the doors open to make his way towards the head table with the perfect facade of cold indifference he always seemed to wear around everyone but her.

But it didn't matter if he had heard her after all, and Robin made her way towards her own table with a lingering smirk. If he wanted to see her taking over his classroom, she would gladly do him the favor. But first, coffee.

_______________

Sooner than it seemed like it should, the day that was long anticipated for most, and long dreaded for few finally arrived. The day of the New Year's ball… a nuisance as always, especially during breakfast and lunch, for the solemn topic of discussion seemed to be who went with whom, and who would be wearing what. Had Robin not been so determined to keep Snape company again, she would actually have fled the castle for the day. Asked for permission to camp in the gardens, perhaps.

But she had decided that she would attend for his sake, and this year she had come somewhat prepared in terms of clothing at least. During summer she had not felt like it would be necessary to actually go out and buy a suitable dress, which she did kind of regret by now, but instead she'd packed what she had also worn to the conference: the green blouse and the high-waisted skirt. It had seemed like a good idea back then, and even if it seemed a bit underwhelming now, Robin figured that it wouldn't actually matter. She'd just go sit in her corner again, and nobody would see what she was wearing anyhow.

So that's what she did once she arrived down in the great hall, finding herself an empty table way off to the side once again. Nobody paid her attention, and she in return paid close attention to everyone once she was seated. The procedure of the night had been changed in hindsight to last year, and once Dumbledore had made an official welcoming speech, the first dance was announced and only then the music actually started. And as it seemed, the dancing lessons had paid off, for the floor was literally crowded with couples eager to partake in this first dance.

That was also when Snape found Robin, only moments after Dumbledore's speech –as the only 'official' part of the night– had ended with applause. Without a word he sat down next to her as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and it actually felt like just that indeed. For a while they simply listened to the music in silence, for appropriateness' sake while the first dance was still taking place. But when the last notes passed and the overall chatter in the room picked up in noise instead, they went along with it.

"You are wearing the same… pieces you wore to the conference last summer." He stated first, and Robin let out a humored huff.

"You actually remember that?"

"Only because I received various letters which clearly pointed out the respective addressor's opinion on your choice of garments."

"Oh…" Robin felt the heat rising to her cheeks immediately. Yeah, she remembered the variety of reactions as well.

"Most of them were… positive, in case you care to know. Entirely inappropriate, but positive."

"Inappropriate? In which way?" She couldn't help asking, even if she had a rough idea of what he meant. She hadn't forgotten the weird gazes of the man who had been sitting next to her at the conference.

"The way that will not have me say out loud a single word of what was written in those letters." He grumbled more to himself than to Robin, and her cheeks heated up even more in a weird kind of discomfort. But at least it seemed to make him equally uncomfortable.

"I can go and change if what I'm wearing is inappropriate." Robin suggested with a shrug, and tried to force the heat off her face with her own feigned casualness.

"Don't. You do look very… appropriate."

"Alright…"

He didn't reply, and neither did Robin know what to say to break the for once rather uncomfortable silence that had now fallen between them. Compliments weren't his thing, if that wasn't obvious enough, and Robin didn't even know how she would accept one in the first place if it ever came to that.

"Change of topic?" She thus suggested, with a hopeful half smile.

"Please." He sighed immediately in return, and Robin's smile widened into a full one that reached her eyes as well.

For the next three hours they talked about anything and everything, or sometimes not at all for a while, but mostly they made fun of the other people in the room. And just like last year, just like before, nobody actually paid them any attention. People were dancing, chatting with their friends or eating canapes, and generally having a good time by any common standards. They had no mind for the two distant figures in the corner who came up with new creative and artistic ways to mock the people around them by the minute. Which probably was a good thing.

At some point around eleven, Robin stood up from the table for the first time in hours to get them a drink. Not because she'd been eager to mingle with the crowd at the buffet, hell no, but because she had lost a bet about how many times a particularly clumsy Gryffindor boy on the dancefloor would step onto his date's feet. Robin had put a guess on three times, while Snape had been entirely convinced that the boy would step onto his date's dress, not onto her feet. Unfortunately he had been right, and thus Robin made her way through the hall now, in the hope to be back at her table as soon as possible. Yet, she hadn't even reached the buffet when she was stopped in her track.

"Ah, Miss Mitchell!" Professor Dumbledore smiled at her as he very intentionally stepped into her path. "I hope you are enjoying the ball? If I'm not mistaken, I haven't seen you dancing even a single time."

"Good evening, sir." She replied politely, even if she hoped that the conversation would be over before it even got started. "I'm enjoying the ball, but I'd rather stay at my table though."

"I must admit, I was under the impression that you would be here with Mister Weasley tonight."

"Who?" Robin frowned before she could think better of it. She most definitely wasn't attending with anyone, and she didn't plan to change that. She was only here to keep Snape company.

"Professor McGonagall told me that you danced with him during her lesson, and that quite successfully as well. She seems to have gotten the impression that you two would be a good match."

Oh bloody hell… so that's who he was talking about; the redheaded Gryffindor boy. Robin had no clue how McGonagall had gotten the idea that they would go to the ball together, but the thought alone made her stomach churn. Staffroom gossip was nasty. "Professor McGonagall was wrong, then. She must've been misled by the fact that we didn't trip over our own two feet like most of the other dunderheads. Students, I mean."

"I see." The headmaster smiled that stupid small smile again, and Robin wanted to know what he really thought. But he was as enigmatic as ever. "A merely professional encounter by chance then?"

"If you want to phrase it like that, yes." Robin's frown stayed on her face as she answered, and the tiny hairs in her neck rose as a cold heat ran down her spine. She crossed her arms over her chest to suppress the shiver. Why was he trying to converse with her in the first place? Surely he must have better things to do.

"Please excuse my curiosity, Miss Mitchell, I merely could not help noticing how much time you spend not only with additional studies beyond the school curriculum, but now also by helping students in the grades below you. Some teachers seem to give you a surprising amount of additional work, and it left me wondering if you are given enough time to pursue your own interests as well. Social ones, in particular."

Robin wanted to scoff at him, but she bit the insides of her cheeks because she knew that she shouldn't. Social interests? Did he mean dating? Friends? His out of context inquiring made her wish to get away from here grow even stronger, and she instinctively thought that her personal matters were none of his business. Unfortunately, they probably were… especially if it concerned the work that was given to her by his staff. Just give him an answer he wants to hear and it will be over. "I certainly have everything I need, sir. The-… "

"Excuse me for interrupting your conversation so rudely, but I would have to steal Miss Mitchell from you now, headmaster." Snape's deep voice came out of nowhere, and brought an immediate wave of relief to Robin's entire being as he came to stand next to her. Soundless in his movement as ever, he practically radiated a calm collectedness that erased the discomfort of everything else. And yet the relief turned into electric excitement when he placed a hand on the small of her back. Gods, how could something so minor be so reassuring and yet so… exhilarating?

"I see." Dumbledore's smile widened for a second to look almost sincerely amused. "Don't let me stop you then, Severus. I believe I have kept Miss Mitchell from enjoying her evenings for long enough." With a courteous nod and the very same enigmatic smile as always, he turned around and then disappeared in the crowd at last.

Robin let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, trying to clear her mind, but her focus remained on the hand that was still resting on her back. Snape's touch was scorching, even through the many layers of fabric, and she had to remind herself to breathe.

"Come." He merely said, and his hand stayed in place even as he led Robin out of the great hall.

"It's still a good while until midnight, isn't it? Is something wrong?" She finally inquired once they slowed down in the candlelit hallway. At least she could speak again now, without her heartbeat filling the silence between every word.

"You looked uncomfortable." He replied, but obviously tried to keep his voice neutral as if simply stating a fact. "I thought I might as well put an end to that."

"I desperately wanted to get away from there, actually. The crowd, I mean, the conversation… the entire situation probably. Thank you for saving me." Robin smiled as she let him lead her down into the dungeons even though she had no idea what he was up to. It didn't matter; she'd gladly go along with about anything right now. Only once they stopped in the middle of a crossing of hallways, his hand finally dropped from her back and Robin immediately missed the subtle touch. Even if its echo lingered on her skin like an imprint.

"You should go and get your warmest robes, it is dreadfully cold out in the wind." He stated as he took a step further into one of the hallways. "Meet me back here in five minutes." Without another word, he walked on and away, leaving Robin alone in the crossing with a frown on her face. It would be another forty minutes until midnight, and the courtyard was mostly shielded from the wind anyway… but she might just as well question him about his plans after she had done as she was told for once. He'd saved her out of the uncomfortable situation with Dumbledore after all. Without wasting more of her now barely four minutes, Robin made for her room that she resided in alone over the holidays, as always, and spontaneously decided that she would change entirely. Instead of the skirt and blouse, she put on her beloved black jeans and a warm jumper, then her boots and at last her winter robes and Slytherin scarf. One minute left… She locked her door with a wordless spell on the go and then ran back through the dorm, through the common room, through the hallways, and finally came to stand in their designated meeting point at the very same time as him. Robin's chest heaved visibly, and yet she made an effort not to pant while the ringing in her ears slowly faded. Geez, running just wasn't for her. Never had been.

Snape merely raised an eyebrow at her in amusement. "Why the hurry?"

"You said be back in five minutes!" She complained, and the lingering rasp of her voice clearly gave away that she didn't engage in such physical activities all too often.

"Since when do you actually listen to what I tell you to do?"

"Good point. I tried, for once."

"You used the time to change; obviously five minutes is fairly little time to do so."

"Well yeah… Whatever we're going to do now, I didn't want to do it in a skirt." Robin shrugged, and her lungs finally stopped burning with every breath she took. "Skirts and cold weather don't exactly work in any combination for me. I'd rather be warm than well dressed."

"Come on then. I would prefer to be gone before the crowd of students takes over the hallways." He said, and they made their way back to where they had come from, back to the entrance hall of the castle. Yet, instead of the great hall, they ventured out into the courtyard, and bloody hell, it was cold indeed. Robin shivered immediately as the cold air blew into her face, and she was only glad that she had changed. Definitely worth the run.

"What was the headmaster's business with you?" Snape finally wondered as they sauntered through the arcades.

"Are you asking or demanding an answer?"

"Asking. I haven't demanded an answer from you in a long time, and I have no intention to do so in the future."

"I appreciate that, just so you know." Robin smiled, mainly because she knew it was true what he said. Then her smile faded as she went to explain. "Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall were under the impression that I would be attending the ball with someone tonight, and I assured him that they were very much mistaken."

"And whom did they have in mind?"

"I honestly can't even remember his name." Robin said in subtle annoyance at the headmaster for being so assuming indeed. "Some redhead in Gryffindor. I danced with him during McGonagall's lesson, and obviously our common not-failing led her to believe that we were… better acquainted. A lot better."

"Are you?"

"No! As I said, I don't even know his name nor did I care to find out. He was a decent partner for the dance practice, after I snapped at him for being an arse, but that's it. I really didn't see the point in talking to him any more than necessary."

"I can imagine. Vividly."

"Imagine what?"

"You, snapping at someone for being an arse." He said, undoubtedly humored, and when Robin looked up at him he actually was smirking openly for once.

"Am I that rude usually or where does the vivid impression come from?" She asked with a laugh in return, just as they reached the far corner of the courtyard. The point where the wooden bridge began. With a start, Robin remembered how they had talked about coming here last year on new year's eve, but never again since. And still he had remembered it somehow, as this clearly was just the place he was leading her.

"You snapped at me for being an arse before." He replied easily, still in amusement, and Robin knew exactly which instance he was talking about.

"I won't apologise for that." She said with a glance at him out of the corners of her eyes. This conversation could take a turn very quickly from this point, and she could only hope that it wouldn't.

"I wouldn't want you to." He stated, almost with a smile, then his expression turned back into neutral territory. "However I still have no idea why Professor Dumbledore would make an assumption about your… company, for tonight."

"He said he was worried that I didn't get to spend enough time doing that pathetic stuff other people my age fancy doing. That, perhaps, you give me too much extra work."

"He said that?"

"In other words, but yes."

"And what did you reply?"

"I was going to tell him that I'm perfectly happy with the way things are, but you came to my rescue before I could make that abundantly clear to him."

"Are you though?"

"Am I what?"

"Happy." He spoke the word like it had a foreign taste to him, careful yet deliberate in a way that conveyed an invisible layer of meaning Robin didn't understand. But it was the question itself that surprised her to a point where she was short of any reply. Thus, for now, she didn't say anything at all.

______________________________

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[richietoaster]

(1) The separation was a little bit terrifying, but it meant freedom. Eddie's friends at the office ribbed him a little about how 'freedom' included the freedom to hook up, get a little action. He doesn't remember getting drunk at an office party and admitting to never having slept with anyone but his wife, but apparently he had. He's not interested in that, though, in other women. He just wants to do things for himself, and do things his wife wouldn't necessarily approve of.

(2) Which is why he's at a show, a comedian he knows Myra hates, whose tour just happens to include a few nights in New York. And the show is... it's weird. It leaves him feeling conflicted and strange. Tozier himself, he's funny. He has great timing, delivery, goes in and out of voices, it's just the material itself. The way he tells a joke is fresh, but the jokes themselves are stale, and there's something a little rote about it all. He doesn't really know whether or not he likes it.

(3) And then, Eddie's in the bar, and it's Richie Tozier who approaches him, who sidles over with a beer in hand to greet him, a quick flash of a smile, a little 'hey', awkward in a way Eddie finds charming, he's not supposed to find men charming, he's not supposed to look at a man's mouth the way he looks at Tozier's when it wraps around the neck of his beer bottle, he's not supposed to feel any of the things he feels when he finds himself face to face with the man.

[[MORE]]

(4) "Sorry to bother you, man, I just-- Do we know each other from somewhere? I just... you looked familiar for a second, and I didn't want to blow you off if we, uh... if we've met before." Tozier continues, when Eddie doesn't manage anything more than a 'hey' in return. "Or possibly I'm just crazy. That's pretty likely, actually. I've got... exactly the kind of issues that make a man become a comedian, so. Yeah, sorry."

(5) "Don't be." Eddie's hand shoots out before he can stop himself, touching his arm. He feels electrified, he feels alive for the first time in memory-- not that 'in memory' is saying much. He'd tried to ignore this long enough, the real reason he had to leave his marriage, the reason it was never going to work. The reason he wasn't out looking for other women to hook up with now that they've split. "I mean, I don't... I don't think so, but... you can meet me now. Eddie."

(6) "Eddie. Richie." He smiles, and looks a little sick and a little terrified and a little excited himself, his gaze flickering down to where Eddie's hand still rests on his arm, back up to meet Eddie's eyes. He seems to steel himself, licking his lips. Lips Eddie shouldn't look at the way he's looking, but he just wants to be reckless for once in his life. He just wants to say yes to whatever Richie Tozier might want to do. "Can I buy you a drink, Eddie?

(7) "I'd like that." Eddie nods, his thumb caressing Richie's forearm once, before he takes his hand back. This is uncharted territory, and he doesn't know how you flirt with a man or what you do with one, but just being next to Richie makes him feel like he's brave enough to try. He'd been waiting to make his usual order, but he abandons that idea. He's going to be adventurous. "Why don't you order me what's good?"

(8) He drinks in the reaction, the way Richie's eyebrows lift, the twitch at the corner of his smile, before he nods and motions for the bartender. He makes a show of looking Eddie up and down before he orders, as if he could divine his tastes, and maybe he can-- the drink he places in front of Eddie tastes better than his usual cocktail order, kind of like apricot. Well, apricot and booze, but... nice.

(9) "So, did I do good?" Richie asks, his gaze lingering on Eddie's mouth-- and when Eddie licks his lips, Richie does the same, shifting towards him. He leans against the bar, twisting his bottle between his hands, and Eddie considers what it would be like to reach out. To wrap his hand around the neck of the bottle Richie is holding, hands brushing, to urge him closer still. How does he get him closer?

(10) "You did. Maybe I should ask interesting strangers to turn me onto new things more often." Eddie takes another sip, and dares a long slow look up and down Richie. He's tall, Eddie likes that. Likes to imagine what it would feel like to be in his arms, his head tucked under Richie's chin, feeling the breadth of his chest... "I don't think I've ever had an adventure before, I think it's time I started. My life's been... safe. Maybe it's been safe long enough."

(11) “You don’t think you’ve had any adventures?” Richie shifts closer again, and he very gently clinks the mouth of his bottle to the rim of Eddie’s glass. The way he smiles makes Eddie feel warm, tugs at something long-buried inside him and threatens to unravel him like a sweater with a loose end, and Eddie's never been so eager to be unraveled as he is when he looks into Richie's eyes. “What, you’re not sure?”

(12) “Crazy story, actually.” Eddie laughs. “I’m not. I, uh… I’ve got retrograde amnesia, my childhood’s a blank, man. But given what I know about me, it’s hard to imagine I ever had much adventure in my life.” And people normally look at him weird when he brings that one up, but no one’s ever looked at him the way Richie Tozier looks at him now. Not like he's crazy, not like he pities him, not like he wishes he never said something so weird, like... Eddie doesn't know.

(13) “Shit, for reals? Dude, swear you’re not, like, having me on right now. You don’t remember being a kid?” He sets down his drink, his hands shaking, and Eddie finds himself doing the same, before reaching out to take one trembling hand in his, and they’re both shaking, clammy with a sudden sweat, gripping onto each other, and he’s not sure what it means but it’s something. It's something he thinks he's been waiting a long time for.

(14) “Why would I make that up?” He asks, shakes his head. Richie’s hand is cold, but it’s strong, and he finds a weird comfort in it. He feels like everything in him is turning inside out, and he’s holding onto a stranger who feels like some kind of home, and if he didn't have Richie to hold onto he thinks he'd just... fall. “No-- no, it’s real. I don’t… I don’t remember anything, from when I was a kid.”

(15) “I don’t remember my childhood.” Richie says, and his hand is cold but still it feels like it burns somehow. His voice is so quiet, and yet Eddie hears it as if it’s the only sound in the room. Richie looks at him like he’s a miracle, and Eddie doesn’t know what to think about that. “Um-- look, I’ve… I’ve never… But if you… I don't do this, man, but-- I've never really met anyone else who got that, and I don't know if you wanna talk or if you wanna get out of here, but...”

(16) Eddie nods. He drains his drink, Richie does the same. The nerves nearly overtake them both by the time they get to Richie’s hotel room, and then he’s in his arms at last, and they’re… strong. Stronger than he’d have imagined, wrapped around him tight as they kiss. He wants those arms to pin him down to the bed, he wants to feel him. They tear at each other's clothes, they push and pull at each other until the bed is there, and Eddie has no idea what he's doing, just what he wants.

(17) Eddie's never felt this before-- passion, desire, lust for the person he's with. Never felt this animal heat. And it's only one night-- it can't be anything else, they both know it, but... but it isn't only the heat. It's the way Richie makes him laugh in bed, and the tenderness in the way he brushes his fingers over Eddie's hair after, and kisses him goodbye when he says he can't stay. Thanks him, like Eddie's done him a favor somehow. Maybe they've done each other one.

(18) He goes back to Myra, after his night with Richie Tozier. Panics a little and goes back to her, and hates himself for it. He can't deal with the way he'd felt, he can't deal with being so alive. Myra is safe. And she says she told him so, but she doesn't punish him for it. Smiles when he said he didn't look at any other women while they were apart and forgives him for trying to exercise his freedom. And things aren't good but things are normal, until Mike Hanlon calls him.

(19/19) When he gets to Derry, when he remembers, he doesn't know what to do with himself or how to feel. Richie Tozier, HIS Richie, his first love. That's who he'd gone crazy on in a hotel room, without giving his last name, that's who he... He wishes he'd stayed the whole night, or he wishes he'd never gone to his show at all, he doesn't know which. He just knows he can't handle the way Richie looks at him when he admits to being married.

OKAY ANON I NEED A WHOLE ASS FIC THANKS

[davidmann95]

So, what's the deal with Kingdom Hearts? I mean, it's a Disney/Final Fantasy crossover, right? Hard to see why would that cause such dedicated whatever.

I’ve had this in my drafts for a while, and given today’s the series’ 17th anniversary it seems like the time to finally get back and finish it. Simple answer: the music slaps and you just want the soft children to get to go home.

Long answer: Even now people joke about the baseline absurdity of a universe in which Donald Duck can go toe-to-toe with Cloud, and while I think 17 years in we’re past the point where it’s time to accept that this is just a part of the landscape for these characters, yes, that does remain objectively bonkers. It’s not a natural, intuitive combination like your JLA/Avengers, this is Mortal Kombat vs. DC Universe-level “well, I suppose they both exist in…the, uh, medium of visual storytelling” stuff, other than I suppose that they both tend towards fantasy in this case. And then that whole wacko premise got hijacked by Tetsuya Nomura for an extended epoch-spanning drama driven by labyrinthine, (occasionally literal) dream logic mythology where it’s genuinely impossible to tell at this point what’s being thrown in by the seat of the creators’ pants and what was planned out since day one, pretty much casting aside the franchises that were in theory the main appeal as relevant parts of the plot even as you still hang out with Baymax from Big Hero 6. Step back even a touch, and there will always be a whiff of derangement about the entire affair - it’s simply baked in at this point.

My controversial opinion however: it’s actually good. There are structural issues and awkward moments and aspects ill-served, I’d never deny that, but even diehard lifelong Kingdom Hearts fans tend towards prefacing appreciation with at least two or three levels of irony and self-critique. I suppose it’s in part a response to the general reaction to it I mentioned before, but no, I absolutely think these are genuinely good, ambitious stories build on a foundation that’s still holding strong. An important note in service of that point: Winnie the Pooh, maybe Hercules, and with III Toy Story aside, I have basically zero childhood nostalgia for any of the properties involved. Wasn’t a huge Disney kid outside maybe very very early childhood, and only dabbled with Final Fantasy after the fact (still intend to play through XV someday though). It won me over young, yes, but on its own.

The building blocks help: the characters designs are great, the individual Disney settings in their platonic representations of various locales and landscapes make perfect towns packed with quirky locals to roam through on your quest, the Final Fantasy elements are tried and tested for this sort of thing, the original worlds each have their own unique aesthetics and touchstones and come out lovely, by my estimation the gameplay’s fun adventure/slasher stuff even if it’s had ups and downs over the years, the actors largely bring it, it all looks pretty, and as noted, the score is as good as it gets. They’re games that look, sound, and play good made up of component parts that unify into a sensible whole. And for me, the scope and convolution of the plot that so many leap at as the easy target - with its memory manipulations and replicas and time travel and ancient prophecies and possessions and hearts grown from scratch and universes that live in computers and storybooks and dreams - is half the appeal; I live for that kind of nonsense. Not that folks aren’t justified as hell in taking jabs at it, but I’ll admit I often quietly raise an eyebrow when I see the kind of people I tend to follow having an unironic laugh at it given *gestures toward the last 40 years of superhero comics*.

All that through is ultimately window dressing. The most powerful appeal of Kingdom Hearts is I suppose hidden if you��re going by commercials and isolated GIFs and whatnot, and even the bulk of the content of the average Disney world, charming as they are. It’s deceptively easy to pick out something else as the fundamental appeal too; even if I’d call them incredibly well-executed examples of such the character archetypes it deals in are relatively broad, and while it handles the necessary shifts in its tone from fanciful Disney shenanigans to apocalyptic cosmic showdowns for the heart of all that is with incredible skill - and that might be its most unique aspect, and certainly a critical one - a lot of that comes down to raw technical ability on the part of the writers, appropriate dramatic buildup, and demarcation between environments and acts of the story.

The real heart of the matter, to speak to my typical audience, is that Kingdom Hearts in a profound way resembles 1960s Superman comics and stories inspired by the same: it’s 90% dopey lovely cornball folk tale stuff, until every now and again it spins around and sucker punches you in the goddamn soul with Extremely Real Human Shit. Except here instead of being lone panels and subtext, it builds and builds throughout each given adventure until it takes over and flips for the finale from fairytale to fantasy epic.

That can probably be credited directly to Final Fantasy creator Hironobu Sakaguchi suggesting to Tetsuya Nomura to try treating this weird gig seriously instead of as the licensed cash-in it seemed destined to be, since if this didn’t have a soul the target audience would recognize it. But in spite of that seriousness, it’s perhaps its most joyfully mocked aspect in its entirely unselfconscious dedication to making Hearts and Feelings and Light and/or Darkness the most important things in the universe that lets it do what it does. It’s childish in the most primal way, absolutely, but what that translates to is that there aren’t cosmic or personal stakes that swap places as major or subsidiary at any given point, because in this world they’re always literally the same thing. There’s no major relationship where the fate of a primal power or a last chance at salvation doesn’t ultimately hang in the balance depending on how it shakes out, and there’s no prophecy or ultimate weapon or grand scheme that doesn’t have direct, fundamental ramifications on the life of an innocent or the memories that define them or whether they’ll ever be able to find a place to call home. ‘Hearts’ is an all-encompassing theme, whether in strength of will or redemption or questions of personhood or the ties that bind us, and by making it a literal source of power, it lends personal dimension to the unfathomable universal and the grand weight of destiny to whether or not someone can come to terms with who they want to be or apologize to those they’ve wronged. It’s a world where emotional openness and personal growth ultimately works the same way and achieves the same results as doing calisthenics in five hundred times Earth’s gravity does in Dragon Ball. and it’s tender and exuberant and thoughtful enough where it counts to take advantage of that as a storytelling engine.

That’d be why Sora works so well as the main character, because he straddles the line most directly between those poles. He may stand out as a spiky anime boy when actually next to Aladdin and the rest, but when it comes down to it he’s a Disney character, just a really nice, cheeky, dopey kid who wants to hang out with his friends and go on an adventure and believes in people really really hard. As the stranger in a strange land he’s a tether to a wider, sometimes more somber and weighty world when he’s sticking his head into the movie plots, but when he’s in the midst of stacked-up conspiracies and mythic wars that make all seem lost, he’s the one whose concerns remain purely, firmly rooted in the lives of those connected to him. Other characters get to go out there into bleak questions of self-identity or forgiveness, but while he might wrestle with doubt and fear Sora’s the guy who holds the ship steady and reminds all these classic heroes and flawed-yet-resolute champions and doomed Chosen Ones what they’re fighting for by just being a really good dude.

Given superhero comics are my bread and butter it doesn’t come up much, but Kingdom Hearts is really about as foundational to the landscape of my imagination as Superman and company, and while 100% that’s in part because it came into my life early it didn’t take hold by chance. It manages its stakes and its drama in a way and on a scale unlike just about anything else I’ve ever seen (even prior to getting to the weird mythology stuff that’s so profoundly up my alley), and somehow the aesthetics and gameplay and dialogue and all the million and one details that needed to come together to facilitate that story joined together into something that’s become one of the most curious, beloved touchstones of its medium. It’s a small, lovely bastion of warmth and sincerity in a way that only feels more like a breath of fresh air with time, playing out over decades a bunch of kids’ journeys to try and find the people they love most and help them and go home together when everything in the universe seems to be against them. It’s special in ways that will for me always be unique and meaningful, and I’m glad it seems to have plenty more in it before it’s through.

And seriously THAT MUSIC.

[geneshaven]

The House On Hamlin Street

I wanted to briefly step out of my Olicity Fanfiction comfort zone and offer the following short story. As I mentioned a couple posts ago, I’ve recently started going to therapy, and this is kind of a cause and effect of that. Five years ago, I made a trip back to the neighborhood and the house I lived in when I was ten. When I got back, I wrote this tale. I thought it was okay, yet when I was finished, I stuffed it into a drawer in my desk and forgot about it.

So if I may…I want to share this with those of you out there who enjoy reading and writing. You know who you are.

 My plane landed at the Bob Hope Airport in Burbank, California just after 2:00pm. It was the first time in forty-three years I had set foot in the San Fernando Valley. As the plane taxied down the runway, I looked out of my window from seat 30F and could see a piece of my past enshrouded in the smog that lay over the land.

Once I disembarked from the 737, I made my way through the tiny terminal and retrieved my luggage and my rental car. Twenty minutes later, I steered a fairly new Ford Expedition onto North Hollywood Way.

I had a map spread out on the seat next to me. I turned west onto Sherman Way and drove deeper into my old neighborhood. I passed by strip malls and various fast food joints, places that had not yet found their foothold when I was last in the area. I was only ten then, and the congested activity on those blocks seemed like a world of their own. Sherman Way stretched on forever, and as I thought back to that ten-year old boy, I could remember how far I thought the street seemed to go. It always made me feel lost and a long way from home.

Finally, I reached Coldwater Canyon Blvd. My ultimate destination was rapidly approaching. As I turned south, I could feel a light flutter of anticipation in my stomach. It was only a couple more miles to Hamlin Street. Would the house still be there? God, I hope so.

Six blocks before my turn off, Coldwater Canyon Elementary school came into view. The school looked just as I remembered it; albeit a lot smaller, but back then it was a vast jungle of classroom bungalows and wide playgrounds. A sudden memory of my first fistfight flashed in my mind. I saw a crowd of kids circled around my opponent and me. We were clenched in headlocks, the standard strategy for fifth graders back then. Damn, I can’t think of what that kid’s name was----Robert or Russell. I do remember this person had given me my first black eye. Thinking back to that day, I could almost feel the throbbing above my left eyebrow from the punch I took, and how I had stood within that circle of kids and cried. Shame danced in my heart like a ghost haunting my memories. I would return later and take some pictures, but home was so very close now and I passed my old school without another thought.

Hamlin Street came up next and I turned left. Two blocks down, at the corner of Alcove Street, I finally reached my goal. I was amazed that I could still find my way home after forty-three years. Relief surged through me as I pulled up to the curb across from my boyhood home. It was still there. A stone wall had been built around the perimeter of the front yard, but essentially nothing had changed. I noticed that the street sign on the corner was the same one that stood there all those years ago. Sure, it was weathered and faded and it leaned a bit to the right, but I could still read the letters through the dents in its surface. A smile stretched my mouth as I remembered those times I had thrown rocks at the sign.

Looking out the windshield of my Expedition, I was suddenly ten-years old again. More memories took hold of me and guided my mind back to the summer of 1970.  School would be letting out and the warm days ahead would be filled with high adventures. There were dirt wars in my backyard, green plastic soldiers arranged in attack formations and ready to wipe out Charlie and his communist evil. Little League would be starting up and I would be in the outfield shagging pop-ups with the odor of freshly mowed grass wafting all around. My mother would be in our kitchen making Kool-Aid popsicles and dad would be out in the garage tuning up his old Indian motorcycle, getting ready to take me on a ride out to the Mojave Desert. My best friend, Dave Munson, would come over and we would go down Victory Blvd to Matt and Tony’s Sub Shop, where two dollars would get us two meatball subs with a dime left over for the jukebox.

They were nice memories. Unfortunately, they were completed fantasy. I have spent all these years hidden behind their softness, away from the pain and loss that I really lived with that long, dark summer. There were no adventures, no green plastic soldiers or Little League. Mom didn’t make those popsicles and dad never did take me on that ride to the desert. Dave never came by and we didn’t have any meatball subs or listen to Steppenwolf play Born to be Wild on the jukebox.

No, that summer was the year my parents were killed, smashed up on the highway when a truck driver with too much coffee and not enough sleep drifted over the white line and ended their lives, along with my innocence.

As these memories held me, I did not notice the front door of my old house open or see the elderly Asian couple step out onto the porch. Nostalgic tears threatened to streak down my cheeks. Finally, through those pools of mist, I saw the couple moving out front. They were gazing my way and the old man pointed at my rental. It suddenly occurred to me that my presence there on the street might appear mysterious, perhaps even sinister to the old couple. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat and opened my door. I would go over and explain why I was there.

As I crossed the street and approached the house, the Asian couple seemed to stiffen with fear, watching this strange white man walk towards them, about to disrupt their simple lives. The old man stepped forward, as if he was prepared to protect his wife from the evils of the world---definitely from one stranger who did not belong in their driveway.

“Can I help you,” the man warily asked me?

I shook my head. “I’m sorry,” I replied. “I don’t mean to intrude, but…I, uh well…I used to live here when I was a boy.”

The fear and suspicion in the couple’s eyes fell away. The woman actually smiled at me and the  man quit his protectiveness and returned to her side.

“Is that right,” the woman responded? “How long ago was that?”

I shook my head again and sighed. “Forty-three years,” I answered.

“Wow,” the old man marveled. “Forty-three years, huh? You haven’t been back here since then?”

I nodded. “That’s right.”

Then the woman spoke and completely blew me away. “Would you like to come inside and look around?”

Just before I left Seattle to make this trip, I remember telling my wife Shelia how great it would be if the house was still there and wouldn’t it be a gas if I could actually go inside and look around. She smiled at me, but did not respond; perhaps still a little angry at me for insisting she not come. I guess it was some crazy macho need I had to face all of this alone. So when the old woman offered me that look inside, I felt some guilt for denying Shelia the chance to share some of my past with me.

However, standing there on the front porch of the house of Hamlin Street, I also felt some decorum, a cursory show of manners. I heard myself decline the woman’s invitation. “No, I don’t want to impose on you. It is enough just to see the place again.”

“Nonsense,” the woman replied. “My husband and I would be happy to have you come inside and see your childhood again.” She paused with a sudden distant look in her eyes. “You know,” she went on. “It has been too long since we have been home as well. We met as kids living in our village back in Japan. Gosh, that was sixty-years ago.”

Gratitude swelled in my heart and I was almost moved to tears again. Suddenly, I wanted to know these two people, thank them by their proper names. “Thank you so much,” my voice croaked. I reached my hand out to the woman. “I’m Roy. Roy Banner.”

She took my hand in her leathery grip. “Roy, it is nice to meet you. I am Keiko. My husband’s name is Shiro. Please come inside.”

She turned to enter the house. I followed them inside. When I passed over the threshold, it felt like I had crossed through a time warp. We stood in the living room, and as I gazed around its small but cozy confines, a sudden image of me stretched out on the floor in front of our Magnavox TV slammed into my brain. I actually took a couple steps backward. The memory was very vivid and it was easy to imagine the theme songs for Gilligan’s Island or the Brady Bunch echoing in the stillness of the room. Keiko and Shiro merely stood off to one side and let me wonder at all those years gone by---which suddenly seemed like no time at all.

I didn’t want to be rude, but I was compelled to move further into the house. I turned around and saw the hallway that led back to my old bedroom. It was only a few steps away, but again, through the eyes of a child, it seemed to stretch into infinity. I was barely aware of myself walking to the end of it. When I finally did arrive at the bedroom door, a hush seemed to settle in the air, as if the act of opening that door would bring an audience of angels. I held my breath and turned the doorknob.

I stood silent for a few seconds. I gazed about the room, overcome with so many images. I did not see the modern furniture the old couple had decorated with. Instead, I saw my old bed stretched below the window, filled with boyhood dreams. Over in the corner, my scarred desk sat on the floor…Peanuts comic book and Hardy Boys mysteries scattered on top of it. My dresser sat just inside the door---more childhood bric-a-brac cluttered on its tarnished surface. Finally, I turned to face the closet. The real reason I so badly wanted to have a look around was hopefully still inside. Would it still be there? I moved over and softly slid the closet door open.

When I was nine, I found a small hole in the back of the closet---a mouse had left it there. I widened it and fashioned a door to cover that space. It was my secret place, where I hid some of my more treasured items as a boy. When that awful summer of 1970 ended and I was forced to go live with my aunt, I completely forgot about my hiding place. Over the years I had many dreams of that house, and in one of them, I remembered the hole in the wall. As I stood there in the semi-darkness, I reached my hand down and felt along the back of the closet. Slowly, I hunkered down and found the latch. I reached inside and felt the valuable trinkets I buried there forty-three years ago.

I first pulled out an old tin box. A sheen of dust lay on it, thick and undisturbed. I opened the lid and my father’s voice suddenly spoke in my head, as if a radio had been turned on.

“Here Roy. My dad gave me these when I was just about your age.” He handed me five silver-colored coins. They dropped into my hand, clinking together with a dull sound. “During World War 2, they used steel pennies instead of copper, which was needed for other things, you know, to supply the war effort. I guess they’re not worth much today, but when you get older, perhaps time will bring them more value.”

I took the pennies out of the tin box and hefted them in my hand. Yes, dad was right. They were valuable now, but more than monetary worth. I reached back inside the hole and brought out the next item. It was the baseball I had caught in foul ball territory out at Dodger Stadium back in 1969.  Turning it over in my hand, the signatures on it were a little faded but still there: Steve Garvey, Ron Cey, Don Sutton, Maury Wills. Those names are now collector’s items.

Finally, I took the last item out. It was wrapped in silk handkerchief.  I unfolded the cloth. The Saint Christopher’s medallion my mother used to wear lay inside. I remembered that I had taken it from her jewelry box the day after she died and squirreled it away in my secret place, as if it were a sacred token from beyond the grave. I knelt there in my old closet and began to cry. It was so good to be home. After ten minutes or so, I wiped my eyes and stood, walking out of my old room.

Keiko and Shiro were still waiting for me in the living room when I returned. I suddenly felt guilty in their presence, holding my plunder as if I had stolen something of theirs. But when I looked in their eyes, I knew I had nothing to worry about.

“Roy,” Shiro softly spoke. “We found your hiding place shortly after we moved in here. You should know that we are the only people who have lived here since you moved away. We did not disturb those things you are holding in your hand. We believe there is something honorable about a little boy’s secrets, don’t you?”

I could only stand there and look at them as if they were part of that audience of angels I had imagined. Fresh tears rolled down my face. I went over to my new friends and hugged them, as if I finally had that one chance I missed to say goodbye to my parents.

They hugged me back.

*

It’s been three weeks since I got back from California. Sitting here in the quiet ambiance surrounding my desk, I close my eyes and think about what I’ve written. Shelia is taking a nap, having sensed that I wanted to be alone for a couple of hours. I can hear Troublesome Creek outside my window, speaking to me in its white water voice. Since I returned, I have brief moments when the tranquility of our house seems out of place, as if the noise and pollution of Southern California feels more right to me. Before I left, I gave Keiko and Shiro my address and asked them if they would write me once in a while, to keep me up to date on the old neighborhood. I really don’t expect them to. When I climbed into my Expedition and drove away, I knew I would probably never return to the house on Hamlin Street.

In a couple of hours, my son Trevor will be home from school. I still haven’t mentioned to my family about the things I found in the back of my closet. I think today I will finally share them with my boy, and perhaps together we will appreciate the wonderful time it is being ten-years old.

@memcjo @it-was-a-red-heeler @swordandarrow @hope-for-olicity @almondblossomme @blondeeoneexox @miriam1779

[thisweekingundamwing]

TWIGW April 15-21

Good morning lovely fandom!

Here’s your round up for this week!  If you submitted something we missed, drop us a line, we’ll get it corrected! 

And if you find something you like, remember to leave the creator some love!

XOXO,

Mod CB

Fanfiction:

A Little Piece of Gundam Wing

The archive is being ported to AO3! Check it out!

AerisEithne

The Snow Queen

Days after the incident that nearly sparked a new war, Relena returns to the Sanc Kingdom to contemplate her future. She can’t help but wonder which path the perfect soldier will choose… and whether their destinies will continue to collide.

Pairings: 1xR

Warnings: Gundam Wing (Frozen Teardrop), Preventers

@anaranesindanarie

Tout pour toi mon amour

A collection of Dorothy and Relena oneshots for @maevemauvaise

Pairings: DxR

Warnings: none

Death Unspeaking (Chapters 19 and 20!!)

What happens when a Gundam Pilot is mute? Will the other Pilots look down at him because of it? Will he overcome the odds or will the odds overcome him?

Pairings: 2x3

Warnings: Graphic Descriptions of Violence, Underage, Mute!Duo Gundams, Eventual Canon Divergence, Mobile Suits, Fighting, Eventual Yaoi, AU, Sign Language, just pure awesomeness, Blowing Shit Up, blowing ships up, Circus

a_river_of_stars

Post Nihil

Much of Trowa’s past is lost to him, but he can’t help feeling drawn to the pale boy who’s been haunting his dreams. When the boy turns out to be real, Trowa follows him into space. But something’s not right. A deep sense of sadness has taken hold of Quatre, and Trowa makes it his mission to free him from it. Unfortunately, Quatre seems to think he deserves to be miserable.A love story told as a series of codas, all taking place between Episodes 35-49. This is my first fic for this fandom, so please be kind. I'm new to this site.

Pairings: 3x4

Warnings: Temporary Amnesia, Troquat, Quattro - Freeform, 3x4 - Freeform, 4x3 - Freeform, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Guilt, Teens Acting Like Teens, Atypical Treatment of Amnesia, Probably ooc, Canon Compliant

@claraxbarton

Of All People

After his relationship with Zechs ends, Trowa meets Duo - a vaguely familiar, handsome stranger who promises to help him forget his ex.  Giftfic for @kangofu-cb

Pairings: 2x3, 4x5, past 3x6

Warnings: AU, academic au, nice and fluffy, no really, happy endings and fun times, and SMUT

@claraxbarton , @kangofu-cb

Bad Company

"The only hell and the only paradise are the ones we build ourselves." - Unknown Years after the wars, Preventers has decided to tackle one of the most powerful and oldest of all the Terran crime syndicates. Embedded dangerously deep in an undercover operation targeting the violent and bloodthirsty Sinaloa Cartel, Trowa Barton is pushed beyond even his flexible morals - and when his new "partner" arrives in the very unexpected and unwelcome form of Duo Maxwell, the one person he'd been trying to protect at all costs, both men must deal with the realization that preserving peace for humanity is turning into a bloodsport.What follows is race against time to uncover the evidence they need to bring Sinaloa, and its beautiful but deadly leaders, down - all while keeping each other alive in the process

Pairings: 2x3

Warnings: Post-Canon, Undercover Missions, Undercover as a Couple, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Human Trafficking, Gang Violence, Canon Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, Moral Dilemmas

@duointherain

The Dance Politic

A star-struck Heero finally confesses to Duo, who is now the mayor of L2.

Pairings: 1x2, 5xR

Warnings: none

Foopy, kirallie

Knights of Avalon

Multi-series crossover fic

The Galaxy is a weird, wonderful and dangerous place. There is far more to history than anyone remembers.

Warnings: Very AU, Stargate pushed up to movie in '04, sentient weapons, many dates have been played with to fit

Ginnybag

Past Tense

'Milliardo.... I'll be waiting on the other side....'A quarter of a century after the fight at MOII, the Epyon System follows the last command given by its maker, returning him to where he will, once again, be needed. But 25 years is a long time and the world he left behind is not the one he wakes in, and fighting to be more than the ghost that he has become to his friends and family may be one battle Treize Khushrenada really cannot win.

Pairings: 6x13, 3xUne, 5xMariemaia, 4xR, 2xDorothy

Warnings: Other Children, Past Relationship(s, )Past Zechs/Noin, Past Treize/Une, Hints of Treize/Dorothy, Newtypes, POLITICS!, Sanc, Past Heero/Relena, Past Treize/OFC, Past Treize/OMC, Dysfunctional Family, Family Issues, Parents & Children, Discussions of Politics/War/Abuse/Sex, References to Drugs, Romefeller Foundation, Mentions of Past Nastiness, ZERO System, Canon - to a point

Wild Roses: Cold Comfort

December AC 191: Six months after creation, Treize's new Wing is rapidly gathering a reputation as the best of the best. A routine patrol in space cements Zechs's status as an Ace and leaves Treize injured, revealing the depths of his religious beliefs.As the 10th Anniversary of the Fall of Sanc combines with the fallout, Leia begins to doubt her husband, Lady Une summons the Zodiac to form, and Noin earns her wings. On Christmas Eve, Treize marks his 21st with a mission he did not expect, culminating in professional triumph and personal revelation for both men.

Pairings: Zechs Merquise/Original Male Character(s), Zechs/Otto, Treize Khushrenada/Lady Une, Leia Barton/Treize Khushrenada, Zechs/Otto/OMC

Warnings: Graphic Descriptions of Violence, Nuclear-powered suits, The Duchess of Richmond's Ball, Medical Euthanasia

lithle

Salt

Three months after the events of Like Oxygen, Duo shows up on Wufei's doorstep. As familiar, dangerous patterns assert themselves, Wufei's left wondering if there is, or could be, anything between them beyond self-destructive desire. Sequel to Like Oxygen

Pairings: 5x2

Warnings: Unhealthy Relationships, Post War Trauma, Suicidal Thoughts, no EW, Post-Warm Explicit Language, Sex, Bad Decisions, POV Chang Wufei, everyone is broken, But Maybe Trying to Get Better?

Lthanz

Life is War

Multi-series crossover fic

Sequel to 'Life is Fringe'. Five years later, Max, Chloe, and Kevin have settled into their new lives. However, they soon find themselves caught up in a power-struggle between two powerful men competing to control the fate of the world. Loyalties will be tested but a greater threat looms in the darkness, ready to strike.

Characters: Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price, Kate Marsh/Original Character(s), Maxine "Max" Caulfield, Chloe Price (Life Is Strange), Kate Marsh, Olivia Dunham, Treize Khushrenada, Natasi Daala, Lucrezia Noin, Lady Une

Warnings: Science Fiction & Fantasy, War, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Original Character(s), Post-Canon, Crossover, Multiple Crossovers, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, pricefield

Luvsanime02

To Be Kind

A @gwcocktailfriday submission

Cathy knows that this isn't going to work anymore.

Pairings: Cathy x OMC

Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Mild Sexual Content, Mild Language, Mild Angst, Cocktail Friday

Maldoror

The Source of All Things

Center, a planet where magic and technology blend. Or more accurately, fight tooth and nail. A planet of Sources, holes in our boring dimension letting through arcane power, chaos and pseudo-deities. In this hot-house of myths and very real dangers, Trowa and Quatre find a mysterious man at the end of a shamanic voyage. Portents suggest this Heero Yuy is crucial to Center’s survival. He’s important enough to have some interesting enemies after him, at any rate: a devious killer and thief called ‘Shinigami’, and a very irate Dragon. Beyond them looms an even greater threat. Indeed, the greatest of them all.

Pairings: 3x4, 2x5, eventual 1x2x5

Warnings:  alternative universe, Science Fiction, Fantasy, Plot Twists, fairly graphic depiction of sex, Mild description of self-harm, Mathematical Magic, weird science, crones - Freeform, Magic and Technology brawling and eventually screwing, Eventual Threesome, Kinda, Insanity of arcane origin, The universe is a pile of marbles and other dubious allegories

Two Halves

The two kingdoms of Sanq and Lin were at war for years; a conflagration involving magic, armies and political murder. The conflict left both nations devastated and strewn with refugees. The king of Sanq finds his infant son, lost at birth, among the death and the ruin, a miracle he barely dared to hope for. But there isn't just one boy, there are two, clinging together like two halves of a whole that cannot be separated. Decades later, the truth behind that second child’s existence will put a hole in the world, or possibly save it.

Pairings: 1x2

Warnings: Fantasy AU, medieval setting with magic, starts with our heroes as children, Cousin Incest, sort of, eventually, being royalty this is in fact the norm and rather expected of them, Canon-Typical Violence

Neutral

La última impresión

Pienso en todo esto mientras espero que Duo Maxwell haga su aparición anual. Cuatro años han pasado desde que abandonamos nuestras vidas militares y él, desde el término de los conflictos armados, cada año aparece en la misma fecha, sin importar en qué parte del mundo esté yo instalado.

Pairings: 1x2

Warnings: Creator chose not to use archive warnings

@remsyk-blog

Souls for the Bayou for @maevemauvaise and written for @fandomtrumpshate

For Trowa Barton, exploring the bayou is the ultimate adventure. Drawn to its borders since before he could walk, he spent his childhood learning its paths and uncovering its secrets.  But a chance encounter sets him on a path that spans across time, challenging everything he thought he knew, plunging him deeper into its mysteries than he ever thought possible.

Pairings: 2x3

Warnings: Supernatural - Freeform, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Bayou, Cajun, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Mystery, Slow Burn, Technically Speaking, Young Love, Use of accents, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, I don't want to give it all away at once, Fandom Trumps Hate

Martini Time

Trowa is not the first pick for Relena's protection detail, nor is he even second or third, but his presence is requested at this particular party, involving a very particular dress code.

Pairings: 3xR, implied 2xR, implied future 2x3xR

Warnings: Cocktail Friday, 1950s Theme, Another stupid charity party, dressing up, Comments on Trowa's hair, Unwanted attention, Sharing

SkullQueenLorita

Wrong Number

Duo, as Quatre's self appointed wing-man and in an attempt to reduce some of Quatre's innocence, gives Quatre the number to a sex hotline. Quatre reluctantly agrees to it. Unfortunately for Quatre, Duo got distracted and gave him the wrong number. But maybe that's a good thing.

Pairings: 4xOFC, 2xOFC

Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Wrong Number AU thingy, Quatre is a cinnamon roll, Duo is Quatre's self appointed wingman, Duo shouldn't be Quatre's wingman, Duo was trying to help but messed up, Quatre is weak against freckles, but that's later, Heero has a gilfriend, Duo doesn't believe she's real though, Booy is he proven wrong later, Quatre swears, and gets mildly flirted with, Texting, group chats, Quatre has a tattoo, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Drunk Texting, Drunk flirting

tb_ll57

Properties of Zero

Four years after the war, Zechs is an embittered relic wrapped up in his own suffering. A chance meeting with Quatre Winner may lead to something more, if Zechs is willing to try. If ZERO will let him.

Pairings: 4x6 (main) with multiple background pairings

Warnings: Post-Endless Waltz, Artificial Intelligence, Psychic Bond, Psychic Violence, OZ wins the war, Everybody Lives, Politics, Rough Sex, Dubious Consent, Drug Use, Drug Addiction, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Zechs is not a great person, But kind of wants to be, Quatre is not that innocent, ZERO is not your friend, ZERO may not be your enemy either, Resistance

white_fox

Life Is A Highway

On an impulsive plan to travel from California to New York City to propose to his longtime girlfriend, Heero Yuy did not plan to pick up a hitchhiker in nowhere Texas. Faced with some setbacks and a growing attraction to his passenger, Heero goes through more challenges than he planned on facing.

Pairings: 1x2, 1xR

Warnings: light slash, Fluff, Road Trips, Dubious Morality

Snippets:

@fadedsepiascribbles

WIP Wednesday - Awkward Une

@lifeaftermeteor

LAM!verse - Snippet featuring Wufei and Sally discussing future opportunities

@remsyk-blog

Dreamscape

Photo Edits/Manipulations

@gundamwing-ellesmith

What if Gundam Wing was real? - Chang Wufei’s office ft. Sally

Headcanons / Meta / Discussions:

@lifeaftermeteor

L5′s origins and history

@robo-rad

Pet headcanons

Multiple Contributors

White Fang meta discussion

Fanart:

@anaranesindanarie

Pilots as pixies

@constantscribbles

Relena meme

@duointherain

Duo

His Excellency, Mayor of the Confederate Second LaGrange States, Duo Maxwell

@drkstars-art

Quatre stickers

@elfbingo

Duo VS Wufei a commission for @lifeaftermeteor 

@forksplitdoorknob-blog

Gundam desktop wallpapers

@napalmarts

Post-war Duo and Heero

@noelleian

Meilan Long

@shigerugal

Gundam Titans

@zibelinbelt

Gundam Wing PDF cover

Calendar Events:

Cocktail Friday

https://gwcocktailfriday.tumblr.com/

A new prompt every Monday!

Submissions should be posted Fridays between 3 and 5pm EST, and tagged with @gwcocktailfriday, and are included in the This Week roundup on Sundays.

Interview with a Creator by @remsyk-blog @interview-with-a-creator

Remsyk has created an online interview for fandom creators to fill out and then she features one each week so that everyone in the fandom can learn a bit about each other.

If you haven’t filled out her interview, go! do! now!

This week’s featured creator is @ellewritesfiction check her interview out here!

Discord Meet Up!

@lifeaftermeteor has organized our next fandom-wide Discord Meet

You can join the channel at any time (it is permanently open), but “official” events will start around 0900 EST both April 28 and April 29 and run until…well, whenever!  Fans are encouraged to pop in and out of the channel as their schedule and time zone allows.  

More information can be found here

Diamonds in Stars Challenge

@terrablaze514 has posed an OT5 challenge to the fandom!

Hello Gundam Fans! April is the month of Gundanium and the warriors who use them. It is also the month where Art and Creativity is celebrated. 

Those who are interested will write an OT5 (friendly, platonic or romantic). A diamond has five points, just like a star. This challenge is just for fun; writers are free to choose which trope, type, rating, genre, etc. to work with. If you want to write a poem about Gundam Wing (pertaining to the five pilots, gundams or other major characters) that’s a bonus! So send your shooting star here (or post on AO3). Make sure you tag it as #diamondsinstars or #gwdis. Entries are due on April 30th. Have fun! 

30 Day Gundam Wing Challenge

Daily questions about Gundam Wing. Please tag your participation posts with @gundamwing30daychallenge for them to be recognized.

Challenge questions and more information can be found here

Pick and choose which questions you wish to answer (or tackle them all!). The point of this challenge is to stimulate fandom participation and to promote conversation and interaction between all fans!

[mydreamcatcherblogme]

Review: Blood Song [Raven's Shadow #1]

Title: Blood Song Author: Anthony Ryan Genre: Fantasy / Adventure / War Publication date: 2011 Summary: “The Sixth Order wields the sword of justice and smites the enemies of the Faith and the Realm.” Vaelin Al Sorna was only a child of ten when his father left him at the iron gate of the Sixth Order. The Brothers of the Sixth Order are devoted to battle, and Vaelin will be trained and hardened to the austere, celibate, and dangerous life of a Warrior of the Faith. He has no family now save the Order. Vaelin’s father was Battle Lord to King Janus, ruler of the unified realm. Vaelin’s rage at being deprived of his birthright and dropped at the doorstep of the Sixth Order like a foundling knows no bounds. He cherishes the memory of his mother, and what he will come to learn of her at the Order will confound him. His father, too, has motives that Vaelin will come to understand. But one truth overpowers all the rest: Vaelin Al Sorna is destined for a future he has yet to comprehend. A future that will alter not only the realm, but the world.     Blood Song is Anthony Ryan's first book of the fantasy series Raven's Shadow (and in general). It follows the story of Vaelin Al Sorna, a boy with a destiny bigger than anyone can imagine. I was rather sceptical about that part, it has been done too many times (I'm guilty of that too, I'm afraid) but I read on nonetheless. Vaelin is the son of the Battle Lord of King Janus, the monarch ruling the kingdom he lives in. Vaelin is given to the Sixth Order to become a warrior and serve and protect the one true Faith. From there on Vaelin sets on a path of war and politics, trying to keep his humanity and friends alive. An unwilling puppet in powerful men's plans, he turns from a boy to a

man to a commander to the Killer of Hope.     There are a lot of things I liked about the story - Ryan's way with words is really cool, even his prophanities are original and funny; the world he paints is super detailed and well thought through so it was pleasure to immerse in it without being distracted by irregularities and plotholes. I also liked the story itself even though I am not a fan of the format he used (more about that in a bit).   One thing that overwhelmed me was the amount of detailed descriptions when it came to battles, tactics and fighting in general. It was vivid and sounded legit, I'll give him that, but it went a bit overboard for me. Maybe it was necessary, considering that all Vaelin knows and does is fight and plan offense/defence. If you cut most of that, the book would be really short. But still, those who decide to read on should either love reading about  fighting in minute details or learn to endure it (or skim over some scenes like me).    Another thing that kind of threw me off, and this is a personal preference rather than an actual structure problem, was the fact that the whole book was written like a memory, basically Vaelin tells his life story to a stranger - all the way back to his childhood when his father abandons him at the threshold of the Sixth

Order. And it is not that it starts with them talking and then comes the memory but the whole thing switches back and forth a few times. This type of structure kills my momentum and annoys me so that is why it took me a few weeks to finish the book (otherwise I would have probably devoured it in a couple of days).    In any case, none of those things were enough to deter me from reading it. And I'm glad. As I said, the story was great - if you don't count the battle descriptions there was pretty much a nice balance between the other elements - there was love(forbidden, naturally), friendship, lies, betrayals, enemies that hide in the shadows and a lot of inner turmoil. The hero has to suffer,  eh?  So yes, if you ask me if you should read the book - you totally should. I'll give you solid 4/5 points and I'll cross my fingers for the next one to have less sword waving and more story developing. Now that the war is over (oops, spoiler) I am curious what else Anthony Ryan has in story for us.     What about you? What rating would you give? What are your thoughts and takes on Blood Song? Read the full article

[fire-toolz]

This Nonlocal Forecast Mix Offers Smooth Jazz Fit for Tears and Bong Rips

The Chicago-based artist best known as Fire-Toolz shares a mix of sounds from the world of her proggy computer jazz record ‘Bubble Universe!’


The Weather Channel isn’t really designed to be watched actively. It was part of the fabric of my Florida upbringing, a constant presence amid the stressful storm prep that accompanied hurricane season every year. As cyclones inched closer to our part of the state, my sisters and I would play board games with it on in the background. Some poor man in a poncho holding a microphone would be getting blown down the street in Boca Raton as our parents mulled whether or not this was a natural disaster worth fleeing the Tampa suburbs over.

That went for their musical direction as well. During their local weather segments, the station programmed these beautifully chintzy jazz tracks, borderline muzak so distinctive to the station that they began selling compilations of it. Those compilations don’t really hold up all that well, but there’s this memory in my head of emotionally layered and unrelentingly uplifting music that accompanied these segments. It’s probably some construction of nostalgia for simpler times, when even something as grave as a natural disaster was part of the background noise of childhood. But I feel an affection for the spirit of music like this nevertheless, all these years later.

A tape released earlier this year by Angel Marcloid—a Chicago-based musician who’s best known under the moniker Fire-Toolz—proves I’m not alone. The name she chose for the project, Nonlocal Forecast, is telling of its sonic motivations. In an interview with The Wire this week, she said that she too grew up with The Weather Channel as part of the background of her home environment, which developed into a genuine love of these sorts of sounds—emotional, swooning, and dramatic as they are. “I didn’t really end up finding out the names and faces until years later when the classic Weather Channel website popped up and nostalgic fans would upload recordings of old forecasts,” she told The Wire. “I remember back in maybe 2011-2012 scouring that website and writing down every single name.”

Bubble Universe!, the tape that resulted from her years of appreciating these sax-laden mood-setters, is a fair bit stranger than Weather Channel jazz compilations. Marcloid, who grew up a drummer, consciously evokes proggy rhythmic contortions and computer music editing trickier to create a surreal version of the sounds that one might hear on Local on the 8s. It’s sort of like when a digital TV broadcast glitches out and blurs things up a bit. You can still tell there’s a meteorologist on screen, but the colors are a little more vivid—the boundaries a little more jagged and twisted.

It’s a wonderfully strange record, and today, she’s offering another peek into her love for this music with a mix of fusion-y new age sounds. It’s beautiful, sweeping stuff, that Marcloid says should be fitting for just about any pleasant activity you can imagine doing, including, but not limited to: staring out of a window, crying, and taking bong rips. Listen below alongside an interview with Marcloid about the project.

NOISEY: How are we meant to enjoy the mix? What’s the perfect setting?


Nonlocal Forecast: Although this mix is generally uplifting, it’s an emotional roller coaster for me. For some reason the first song makes me cry every time I hear it so I can’t listen to it at work. But then other songs are pretty adventurous. Track 2 makes me see lightning. In my world, it’s the perfect accompaniment to whatever you love doing the most. Sitting by yourself and listening to a light rain shower beating against your window. A windy chilly walk through a meadow where the sun is warming your skin. Driving through the desert. Floating in space. Sucking down bongs in your room with a nice pair of headphones on and a cat in your lap.

Was there any specific concept to the mix?


I have a lot of music, and I acquire a lot at once. I throw it all on shuffle. Songs will stick out like sore thumbs, so I drag them to a folder. This process leads to getting lost in full albums of course, but this folder of songs just becomes so fucking charged. I took songs from that folder.

Do you have a favorite moment on this mix?


Perhaps the violin solo build-up in Jerry Goodman’s “I Hate You.” My least favorite moment however, is when Goodman chose a name for the song.

Is synesthesia a real thing? If so, what color is this mix?


My experience is that I see shapes, textures, colors and shades, emotional qualities, sentiments and values, recollections of past experiences, all sort of molded together in one matrix. It’s quite a rainbow of things if I look at the mix linearly. As a whole, it’s warm, glowing, glassy, full of green growth, completely safe, watery and flowing, cushy and fluffy, soft but refined. Blankets, rivers, lens flares, stuffed animals, wide open night skies, cats purring, maybe a little facing traumas with LSD as an aid.

When we chatted about the last Fire-Toolz release we talked about the function the more peaceful moments served on that record. What does it mean to you to do a record like Bubble Universe! that’s more consistently focused on that sort of headspace?


That album flowed out of me so quickly and easily. I felt an effortless flow and peace putting it together. The drive to create was because I had just finished my next Fire-Toolz album and felt a strong momentum to keep going. Writing Bubble Universe! I felt no need to be hyper-focused on the compositional detail I put into Fire-Toolz productions. I guess to some people Fire-Toolz sounds like a mess while Nonlocal Forecast might sound meticulous and intricate in comparison. Screenshots of the programs I use would convince you otherwise. I felt like I made no conscious decision in composing this record besides deciding what preset to start with. Play a chord, next preset, play a chord, next preset. Next thing you know I had a full length. No second thoughts, no months of going back and forth and tweaking like I do with any given Fire-Toolz track.

I know I’ve seen you post tracks on Twitter before that are kind of like this mix and sound a bit like the stuff you’ve done on the Nonlocal Forecast record. Do you, as your name implies, have specific memories about hearing this stuff on the Weather Channel?


The name Nonlocal Forecast has a double meaning. It is a reference to classic Weather Channel vibes, but it is also (and mostly) a reference to the phenomenon of Quantum Nonlocality, and viewing it through the lenses of both ancient spiritual wisdom and cutting edge physics.

I didn’t have this idea to make a record that intentionally ~channels~ the sounds of 80s and 90s new age, jazz fusion, and easy listening. Nor did I have the idea to adopt a Weather Channel theme. I just wanted to make some music and this is what came out organically and naturally. Probably because I haven’t listened to much of any other genres in the past several years.

As a listener, what specifically catches your ear in songs like these?


There are melodies or chord progressions that will emerge out of these songs that stop me dead in my tracks. It’s what makes me drag them to my favorites folder. I really love the saxophone as a melody instrument, but somehow a lot of guitars and violins wound up on this mix to fill that role. Sonically, it’s all about the spaciousness, that unapologetically saccharine lead, and the timbre of popular 80s digital synthesizers and MIDI instruments. Put them all together with some jazzy chords and I’m drooling or crying.

Ninety-nine percent of the synth sounds on the Nonlocal album come from VST’s of the Korg M1 and Wavestation, and those instruments are scattered throughout the mix and staples of 80s music in general. I was definitely able to translate vastness, oneness, peace, vivid color, observing the beauty of weather patterns, inner-eye gazing into natural micro/macroscopic marvels, experiencing humanity as a single being. However I am nowhere near the jazz geniuses some of these artists are, and I couldn’t possibly have come up with their melodies and progressions if I tried. I’m coming at jazz fusion from a terribly unseasoned perspective. I’ve no legit jazz background. The Weather Channel raised me, but I was playing metal, punk, emo, noise. I rejected Tony Williams and Buddy Rich and embraced Chad Sexton and Mike Portnoy instead. Yes, Chad Sexton, and that gorgeous-sounding snare drum of his.

New age music sits at this interesting boundary between being functional music (whether for meditation or commerce) and like vaguely spiritual practice. Does any of this inform the way you listen or approach making music like this? What aspects of the packaging—for lack of a better word—of this stuff do you feel resonates with your approach?


For some artists making new age music, spiritual or nature-themed track titles and artwork was a marketing trend. But for many others, they felt personally drawn to nature, relaxation, simple beauties and pleasures, presence and awareness, love and devotion. Often this music would be specifically presented as an assistant to a spiritual practice from a mystical and contemplative tradition. I think things like nature, relaxation, and spirituality are tight as hell. So naturally this music meshes well with my interests and passions. However my love for the music came long before I uncovered an unquenchable thirst for understanding the nature of reality and experiencing higher vibrations.

It’s all extremely functional music to me. It doesn’t blend into the background. It’s not shallow or plastic. It has a significant personality and value. Even the most bland, directionless sax solo over the most generic 80s electro-pop tune has an emotional depth and safe harbor to it that I could never finagle language to describe.

So this being a pretty focused genre-exercise, do you have any more projects like this kicking around your head? Are there other new directions you want to pursue outside of the Fire-Toolz stuff?


I didn’t even want to do a new project at first. I felt completely fulfilled with Fire-Toolz and MindSpring Memories because I can do anything I want with Fire-Toolz and it still sounds like Fire-Toolz, and I can use songs I already love as my toolkit with MindSpring Memories. Nonlocal Forecast happened because that emotionally intuitive creative stream was flowing, and I was whining to Max from Hausu Mountain about how annoying it is trying not to get too backed up with new Fire-Toolz material. At the time I wouldn’t have a new LP out for another year and I was in raging MIDI mode, ready to translate insights into rectangles on a grid. I sent him some songs I was working on that were originally intended to be a new direction for Fire-Toolz. He told me to just pick a different moniker, forget the vocals as to separate it further from Fire-Toolz, and they’d release an album of it. Two months later Bubble Universe! was fully produced and mixed. I felt like I had just taken a big pee. All over Max.

There are a lot of sounds that I haven’t explored enough. New age ambient ska with death vocals and mixer feedback maybe? No new monikers, though. Exploring new things is what Fire-Toolz albums are for.

Tracklist: 0:00:00 Fowler & Branca - Etched In Stone (Etched In Stone, Silver Wave Records, 1993) 
0:04:40 Brian Bromberg - Sedona (Brian Bromberg, Nova Records, 1993)
 0:11:00 Jerry Goodman - I Hate You (It’s Alive, Private Music, 1987) 
0:15:54 Tom Grant - Journey Within (The View From Here, Polygram, 1993)
0:21:04 Doug Cameron - Vertigo (Passion Suite, Spindletop, 1987) 
0:24:32 Tom Scott - Water Colors (Flashpoint, GRP, 1988) 
0:29:47 Checkfield - Live At Five (Through The Lens, American Gramaphone, 1988)
 0:34:34 Christophe Franke - Black Garden View (Pacific Coast Highway, Virgin, 1991)
 0:39:13 Trammel Starks - Old Town (Gentle Storms, Intersound, 1995)
 0:43:48 Victor Biglione - Za-Tum (Baleia Azul, WEA, 1987) 
0:49:00 Dancing Fantasy - Happy Harry (California Grooves, Innovative Communication, 1991)
 0:53:16 Allan Holdsworth - Dodgy Boat (Wardenclyffe Tower, Restless, 1992) 
0:58:42 Maxxess - Castle On The Mountain (Landscapes [1990-1995], Klangdesign, 2011)

[stetervault]

I'm new to the steter fandom, can you rec some of your favourite or fan favourite fics?

Ugh there’s just so many, but this is a question I’m always willing to answer XD I’ll try to rec fics from a variety of writers, and if you like them, you can check to see if they’ve written others :)

Proposing To Strangers by moonstalker24

At the end of a strained relationship, crime novelist Stiles chooses to hide from the world inside a bar with far too many motorcycles outside it for comfort. Here he’ll meet the man of his dreams, eat food and propose marriage, all within the first five minutes.

Peter doesn’t know who this kid is, but he’s cute and looks like he could use a break. So he feeds him. He’s not expecting a marriage proposal, but with what comes after, he doesn’t really mind.

it’s not the color i came in by nezstorm

Stiles is a bit of an anomaly among the Omegas he knows, or everyone on the spectrum really.

For him, heats are about comfort and safety, and not at all about sex.

Baby Stilinski-Hale by Triangulum

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Peter says. Stiles just shrugs. “Are you going to tell me why, or do I have to guess?” Stiles would love to glare at him and snark back like they always do, but her nerves are just too frayed and she doesn’t have it in her. Peter seems to sense this and frowns, his face morphing into one of concern. “Stiles..?”

He takes a few steps closer, slowly as if he’s trying not to startle her and that makes her want to let out a hysterical laugh, but she keeps it in. He sets his hand on her shoulder, the other going to the side of her neck. He frowns at the way her pulse is racing, as if he needs to physically confirm what his ears are already telling him. She lets him touch her, knowing without even needing to think about it that he won’t hurt her. She does let out a bitter little laugh at that. Well, physically he won’t.

“What is it?” he asks and the genuine concern in his voice almost breaks her. He leans down and stares into her eyes, their faces so close, and she sees his nostrils flare. “You smell…different.”

Well, that’s her cue.

“I’m pregnant,” she whispers.

Or

The one where Peter gets Stiles pregnant and is a big old softie about it.

The Devil You Know by Twisted_Mind

He’s so tired, in every way it’s possible to be tired. He tried going for a walk tonight to prevent a panic attack, and ended up being rescued, dazed and bleeding, by Peter Hale. There are so many things wrong with that sentence he doesn’t even know where to start. Panic attacks. Being stuck inside his brain sucking so hard he needed to be alone and moving. The sense of relief that came with crashing into Peter. He shouldn’t be okay with this. He didn’t give Peter permission to sleep in his bed. His dad will be home soon. Peter’s more than a decade older than him. Peter can’t be trusted.

But he’s tired, and this feels so, so good.

drowning in the sea of you by Corpium

Beacon Hills was perfect for Stiles growing up, but now, with werewolves, hunters, and an anxious best friend running around, it’s turning into a place too chaotic for an empath like Stiles to handle alone. And pain killers can only go so far.

The World That Is Not Ours by Ragga

”Are you sure?” Noah asked as he stared at the plush Claudia was holding. It was a rather scary-looking thing if he had to describe it with just one word. It was some sort of a monster, he thought, and not a wolf like the tag called it. Its hair was slightly coarse, not silky smooth like children’s toys usually were, and a sort of a dark colour; not black but not brown either, just a muddy shade of dark. Its body shape was also rather interesting. It seemed almost disfigured with its back and legs twisted and its snout was long with sharp-looking teeth (which actually weren’t, sharp that is, thankfully). But even those traits weren’t the one Noah objected to. No, that honour belonged to the shining red eyes that seemed to stare into his soul.

“Stiles is going to love him.”

Eventually (I’ll Crash Into You) by ToAStranger

Derek pushes Stiles away to keep him safe.

Stiles more than just leaves.

You’ve Got Me by Inell

Stiles arrives home earlier than expected and finds someone sleeping in his bed.

Baby Boy by SushiOwl

What the heck is FetLife?

Stiles is too curious for his own good, and he can’t help himself, so he joins a website advertising to be a good place for “kinksters.” He just wants to be nosy and see what total strangers are up to. Then he meets Peter, who wants to be called Daddy.

Could Stiles be his baby boy?

Whiskey is My Kind of Lullaby by taylorpotato

Peter is a simple saloon owner on one of the outer planets between the Aaru Belt and the Olympus Galaxy. He’s done with trouble. Done with adventure. So fucking done with rustlers. That is, until a cute young outlaw named Stiles wanders into his bar. Peter has this problem where he can’t seem to resist charming narcissists (perhaps because they remind him of himself). And when said narcissists turn his life upside-down, the worst part is he’s not even that upset about it.

Take Care of Me by Mysenia

Prompt: It was so hard to choose on that list so I won’t instead I’ll go with W and the pairing Peter & Stiles. Peter to Stiles “I take care of you because you’re Pack.” Along with or in place of that one if it doesn’t work for you (still Peter to Stiles.) “I’ve failed you once I won’t do it again.”

According to plan by FeelingsDusk

The plan was very simple: go back in time, kill Kate, kill Gerard, never ever make contact with his parents, try to find a place within the Hale pack or not, but either way, live the rest of his life displaced and without the people he loves.

Of course, as it always is with him these days, nothing goes according to plan.

The Sphinx of Beacon Hills by Guede (Stetopher)

Stiles is a sphinx, and he’s winging his way to visit his buddy Scott when a storm drops him in Beacon Hills, the craziest, crankiest, coldest place ever. And somehow, he ends up with a bunch of werewolves.

Note: Bestiality warning is because the version of sphinx here is lion-shaped from waist down, and I don’t know how else to tag that.

Bite Down by EclipseWing

In which Stiles is forced to survive the zombie apocalypse with a sociopathic murdering werewolf for company.

At the End of All Things (What’s Another Sin?) by Ceris_Malfoy

The first year of her solitary existence had been all about survival.

The second year was learning how to want to survive.

And then the wolf arrives.

The Terrible Things We Do (For Love) by Rrrowr

Being a demon, he’s seen some of the pretty nasty things that humans are willing to do for love. Things that, were he still alive (and human), would make him hesitate to be in a relationship with anyone lest his partner start getting some funny ideas. That said—

“This seems a little desperate for a kid your age,” he says to Stiles.

A welcome arrow by 1001cranes

The wedding is small and grim, because Stiles is being carted off to parts unknown, married to a thirty-something year old dude who wants to marry a seventeen year old dude - totally not creepy at all.

Hold Me Down by sneksonaplane

Waking up in Peter Hale’s bed was weird. Waking up in Peter Hale’s body was even weirder. Stiles had been disoriented and confused when he’d found himself in a plush, king sized bed in an unfamiliar bedroom instead of in his own room (and seriously, why did Peter even need a king sized bed? Why would anyone need a bed that big?) It had all come back to him when he’d glimpsed the body he was inhabiting, one that was shorter but more defined than his own, and older, and kind of hot.

OR

The one where Stiles and Peter swap bodies, Peter relives his adolescence, Stiles suffers, and then suffers a little less when he discovers Peter’s fetlife profile where he’s listed as a submissive seeking a daddy.

Cast in Stone by wynnebat

To think, people would kill for this.

run away and hide with you by Green

Stiles has been taking care of himself for far too long.

Can I Tattoo a Baby? by Elpie (Horribibble)

Before he inked his first tattoo, Stiles Stilinski had filled a dozen sketchbooks.Before he knew what he wanted to do with his life, Stiles Stilinski had a kid to take care of.Before he threw in the towel completely, Stiles Stilinski met Peter Hale.

Life is made up almost exclusively of happy accidents. (And some really terrifying childhood memories.) But that’s okay.

(Really they’re all kind of morons, but the Buffy style asskicking doesn’t hurt.)

Waves that rolled you under by radishwine

AU in which Peter has the good sense to get the hell out of town after killing Laura. He drives up the Pacific coast to the old Hale cabin and stays for a while.

Beyond The Shore by SmartKIN

When Peter Hale leaves Beacon Hills and moves into his family’s lake house, all he expects to find is solitude and freedom.He definitely doesn’t expect the loud-mouthed, too-pretty-for-his-own-good merman who breaks into his house in the middle of the night, unable to curb his curiosity.

Lucky Penny (Tastes Like Copper on Your Tongue) by pibroch (littleblackdog)

When Peter woke up, he spent a good fifteen or twenty seconds earnestly wishing that whatever had hit him had the courtesy to kill him outright. Because this? This was bullshit.

AKA the time I decided to give Peter all the nice things, but made him get hit by a car first. Like you do.

Naughty Hookers (Swathed in Wool) by pprfaith

Stiles is happy with his store, his hobbies, his friends. Peter’s just trying to figure out how to raise his nieces and nephew without fucking them up too badly.

Paths cross.

Red String verse by gryvon

Peter had given up hope of ever finding his soulmate until the red string on his finger leads him to a four-year-old. He’s going to Hell. Or jail. Or both.

If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out by mia6363

Commander Stilinski looked like he fell out of a propaganda video, his armor still smoking as he pulled off his helmet and handed it off to First Officer Argent. He had a few bruises down his neck but his smile was bright.

“Glad to see you safe and sound, Mr. Hale. I’d hate for Derek to lose a member of his family.”

“I told you,” Derek snapped at his superior, “he’s not worth this, Commander.”

There you go, enjoy ^_^