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sl-newsie · 11 months ago

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American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 7: New Perspective

“Are you bloody mad?” Arthur barks at Thomas from the table. “You’re mad, Tommy! Since when do you get to decide if we let an American broad into our business?”

They must have just found out about my “promotion.” I’ve just walked out of my room and there’s already shouting. Come to think of it, the Peaky Blinders aren’t just Thomas. It makes sense that there’d be an argument over my sudden arrival.

“I agree,” John speaks up. “Don’t get me wrong, I love her as a tutor. Finn does too. I’ve never seen him so happy to learn. But we don’t know squat about where she’s from or who her family is. She could be the daughter of a bloody mayor and then the Americans will be out to get us too!”

I’m still hiding behind the corner so they haven’t seen me yet. Thomas is awfully calm to their anger and takes a puff from his cigarette.

“She’s odd, I’ll give her that. Do you know what she told me? Said Campbell interrogated her about us. Asked if she knew anything.”

Arthur groans. “That does it. We’re done for because of some soft-mouth American bitch!”

“That’s what I thought,” Thomas replies. “But then she surprised me. I was this close to choking the life right out of her and asked what she said to him. She said she never told him anything. Said it would be disloyal and betraying her employers.” I hear him chuckle. “Verena says she still owes a debt to us and won’t budge until she’s paid it off and earned enough to go back to America. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

“Not a clue,” I hear John say.

“Let’s just say that I think there’s more to her than being a simple American from New York. She’s smart.”

“And that’s abnormal?”

“You don’t understand. She knows things. Deep history, philosophy, macroeconomics. Things that most women I know aren’t fond of. She never mentioned anything about attending university. Now I say she either has peculiar interests or she’s been taught in them by her family.”

A part of me wants to come clean and tell them about my uncle but I keep my mouth shut. It would only complicate things more. If Thomas trusts me enough to allow me to be an official Shelby employee then I know I’ve earned it out of being myself. Not from mob rule.

I hear the Shelby brothers break off the conversation and head in separate directions, causing me to scramble back to my room to keep from looking suspicious. Now I pretend to peek my head out just as Arthur stomps towards the back door. When he sees me he gives me a loathing scowl.

“You may have twisted Tommy to like you.” He points to himself. “But not me. You just watch yourself, Steenstra.”

I will say I think I’ve started to grow a tolerance over the Shelby temper. Instead of shrinking away I stand steady and don’t let my eyes weaken. “I mean no harm to your family, Mr. Shelby. You forget I’m only here until I can afford to go home. Then I’m out of your hair.”

His face doesn’t change as he huffs and walks out the door. I may have won this small battle of wits but I have yet to win the war of trust. My only comfort is that he isn’t still yelling at me.

“Verena, can we do another lesson?” Finn asks as he approaches. “Maybe something with philosophy?”

I raise a brow. “I thought you didn’t like that subject, hm?”

The youngest Shelby gets a sheepish look. “Um, sort of. But when you had me read The Jungle I started thinking that maybe there’s more to it than just wishy-washy nonsense.”

“Ah, very insightful, Finn. You’re learning that there’s a deeper meaning behind the simplest things in life.” Something his brothers won’t understand. “Maybe not spiritually or religiously like your aunt and myself, but possibly through enlightenment.” I pull out a scrap piece of paper and begin making a list. “John Locke, Mary Wollstonecraft, Montesquieu… Or possibly the Age of Transcendentalism. Ralph Waldo Emerson, perhaps…”

Finn watches me curiously as I scribble down more books. “Are they all American?”

Thomas’ dislike for Common Sense (figuratively and literally) must have rubbed off on his brother.

“Not all Americans are scatter-brained lunatics, nor are Europeans the only philosophers.” I point a slightly warning finger at him. “Your brothers don’t know everything, Finn. Sometimes we can’t rely on family to tell us everything. We must go out into the world and experience things for ourselves.”

Once I’ve finished the list and decided on today’s topic we see John appear. He seems to have a softer dislike for me. Not as stern as Arthur but not as laid-back as Thomas.

“You might be Finn’s tutor but you’re still a stranger,” he mutters as he examines the cupboard.

“I’m aware of that, Mr. Shelby. What are you searching for?”

John hums and keeps looking. “Those biscuits Ada made the other day…”

Finn and I share knowing smiles. “Actually sir, I made them.”

He glances at me with a new look of surprise. “Really? How on Earth did you bake them so- so…?”

“It’s a family recipe, sir,” I smile proudly. “It was my grandmother’s. Now if you’re done belittling my credit there’s plenty more cookies in the refrigerator.”

John’s eyes soften even as his face keeps its cold demeanor as he pulls out the cookies. “Why would you store them here?”

“They stay fresh that way. Besides, I think they taste better when cooled.”

It’s charming to see one of the notorious Peaky Blinders soften up over cookies. Even Finn is trying to contain a laugh. John sees his brother snickering and he rolls his eyes.

“Yes, well… You’re still a stranger no matter how delicious your biscuits are. Finn, are you doing your studies?”

Finn nods eagerly. “We were just getting started on philosophy.”

“Philosophy?” Another voice says.

We all turn around to see Thomas leaning against the wall, no doubt sulking there listening to everything.

“So that’s your secret, is it, love? You bribe my brothers with baked goods?”

I can’t tell if he’s concerned or impressed. Thankfully Finn comes to my rescue and hands Thomas his own cookie. Once Thomas takes a bite it’s no question that he shares the same delight. Grandma always said you can’t buy happiness but you can bake it. Sadly the moment is short-lived when Thomas comes to his senses.

“Right, anyways… John, have you heard about Danny?”

As usual I tone out and head to the living room to give them privacy. Just because I’m an employee doesn’t mean I’m allowed to hear everything-

“...stabbed him.”

The faint conversation jerks me from my embroidery. “Someone’s dead?”

Thomas rolls his eyes. “I said: Danny stabbed an Italian. Now we've gotta deal with them too!”

“A friend of yours?”

He nods. “Yeah, from back during the war. He ain’t been right in the head ever since.”

“What’s the plan?” I ask cautiously.

Thomas calmly takes out his pistol and checks to see if it’s loaded. “Dispatch of him myself before they can torture his poor mind even more.”

Oh my God. He’s going to kill him. It makes my heart ache and I have to remember who I work for. Obviously Thomas is saddened to do it but I still have a nagging concern about him playing God’s executioner.

“Does he have family?” I ask softly once I’ve gathered my thoughts.

John sighs. “A wife and two sons.”

I shake my head in sadness. “Dear Lord…”

Thomas doesn’t seem to share my tender feeling because he brushes this off as if it were throwing out the trash.

“Danny’s always been a bit dazed. At least now he can die with dignity instead of another bonkers episode.”

John doesn’t dare to say anything and Finn knows too little to understand. But that doesn’t mean I’ll stay quiet.

“‘Die with dignity?’ I’m not sure having his brains blown out will be a memorable death, Thomas. Does he really have to die?”

The gangster looks up and for a split second I see something in his eyes change. “This is how it is, love. You just need to trust me.”

By now Finn’s getting bored and stands next to me awaiting our lesson. Maybe that will help me forget this melancholy feeling.

“Later I shall need an escort to take me to the library, if it’s not too much to ask.”

John looks over at Thomas, who just shrugs. “Why the library?”

“I have a list of books I’d like to borrow for Finn’s lessons. It shouldn’t take too long-”

“You won’t have to,” Thomas interrupts in a lazy tone.

I frown in confusion. “Pardon?”

“You won’t have to, because I can have them ordered for you,” Thomas says simply. “We’re the Shelbys, love. We don’t go borrowing things when we can buy them. Borrowing always means you’re indebted to someone, which is something we steer clear of. So what books will you need?”

He- He’s serious? My, Polly must have given Thomas a good talking to for him to have gotten so cooperative.

“I- I have a list-”

“Give it here.” Thomas holds out a hand and swipes the paper I hold out, giving it a quick read. “I recognize some of these people. What makes you think Finn needs to learn about them?”

His question sounds less harsh and more out of curiosity. Though I now understand why Thomas is apprehensive about these things. His family has seen many grim trials, so he relies on his own wits instead of those that might betray him. It’s all about seeing things through a new perspective.

“Well, John Locke is known by many as one of the most influential of Enlightenment thinkers and titled the ‘father of liberalism.’ Mary Wollstonecraft was a very influential advocate for women’s rights. Montesquieu’s The Spirit of Laws was a major contribution to political theory, and Ralph Waldo Emerson helped push the idea of transcendentalism.” I hold up a finger to stop Thomas before he interrupts. “I’m not saying that all their beliefs and teachings are perfect. I’m not saying that I agree with them or expect you to. I do think it’s healthy for Finn to be exposed to multiple viewpoints to allow him to decide his own beliefs.”

John and Thomas exchange a look that I hope means they think I’m right. John holds up both hands as if to excuse himself from the conversation and walks off to where Arthur just left. Thomas still has a flabbergasted expression as he stands up to head towards the side door, shaking his head and looking between Finn and me.

“Finn, you- You enjoy this? I thought you’d be bored to madness by now.”

The young man nods. “It’s not boring, Tommy. It’s actually fascinating. Verena’s a good teacher.”

The mention of my name drives Thomas to look me in the eye before he leaves. The icy blue eyes that once seemed to tear my confidence apart are now filled with a shadow of respect.

“That she is, Finn.” He pauses. “You’ll have your books by the end of the week.”

With that he shuts the door, leaving me proud to have risen up to become this esteemed. My quiet life at home will never compare to this. I’ll have to thank Uncle Colon for the personal lessons. How did being stranded in Birmingham get to be the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me?

“While we’re waiting for the books, can we do a history study?” Finn asks, knocking out my thoughts.

“Yes, Finn. What era would you like to research?”

He thinks for a minute. “The American Revolution.”

A smirk slowly grows on my face. “It would be my honor, Mr. Shelby.”

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky fucking blinders #peaky fookin blinders #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #finn shelby #polly gray #grace burgess

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ask-mallory-and-detective · 5 months ago

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_[ERROR] [ERROR]…

_[SPLIT POINT FOUND]…

A Wheres Waldo (OC’s) ASK BLOG

Inbox: open

Rp: Of course.

Main Acc: @brewingcoffi

Rules and information undercut

>[Coding Character Selection..]

File_Name: [Mallory]

File_Name: [Detective]

>RULES

I won't do anything related to romance unless its with Detective. It’s not like I am against the impression of shipping and I don't mind jokes hinting at ships between specific characters too, I'm just not comfortable and don’t know how to RPing that sort of thing. no NSFW either for the same reason, but some NSFW jokes are always welcome. Just don’t overdo it, I don't want my ask blog to be filled with NSFW jokes all the time.

I'm willing to RP with other OC’s and crossover characters, Canon or not. But please DM or at least give me some info about them or the plot of the RP if you're using an au of these characters, before we start RPing, my knowledge of characters and you're OCs is limited. So, I might not get them all the time.

[NOTES AND SOURCES]

> OC/Canon Friendly, Crossover Friendly.

> I'm an minor

> A bit rusty on Roleplaying

> Can get overwhelmed easily, so please be patient!

> Responses will be replied with text and sometimes art like this!

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thesapphictimelady · 10 months ago

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Rebinding

Word Count: 600 words

A/N: While some of these may not be true in your state, I did some research into a few different states to keep this as factual as possible. Is Mel and Jacob’s solution the best one? Maybe not. But Jacob is correct, in some states you can face jail time of 2 ½ years. All of the books mentioned have been banned or challenged at some point in history. Some books are banned or challenged because they make us feel uncomfortable with how they show us our history. We should not be comfortable learning about the things we did wrong. Books are important and should be available to everyone. There are many reasons some of these books are banned and if I had listed all of them, this would have been a lot longer. Anyways, this is super short and thrown together before I head to bed but I hope you enjoy it!

“I can’t believe this,” Jacob said from his seat at the kitchen island.

“Are you reading who gives a crap biweekly again,” Melissa asked, rolling her eyes as she assembled her lasagna.

“Mel Mel, they’re banning books!”

“What do you mean they’re banning books?”

“I mean, if our school library keeps copies of these books, we could face criminal charges!”

“Let me see that,” Melissa said, dusting off her hands, “you must be reading it wrong”

Jacob passed her his phone and set his head in his hands as she started reading aloud:

“A Light in the Attic by Shel Silverstein…Encouraging bad behavior? A Wrinkle in Time…Witchcraft? Animal Farm…Encouraging revolt? Fahrenheit 451…Hang on, they do recognize the irony in banning that, right?”

Jacob grimaced and gestured for her to keep reading.

“James and the Giant Peach for Witchcraft, The Giver for violence, To Kill a Mockingbird for racial slurs, Where’s Waldo for NUDITY?”

“Yeah, that one I did find kind of amusing,” Jacob said

“Well I don’t see any history or nonfiction books so it doesn’t affect your class…” Melissa said.

“Keep scrolling.”

“The Diary of A Young Girl…that’s Anne Frank. It’s banned for homosexual themes. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings…‘anti white sentiment’? A People’s History of the United States for ‘Leftist Propaganda?”

“See! This is bad! These books are important!”

Melissa handed his phone back, humming thoughtfully as she turned back to her lasagna. After a few minutes, she turned back to him.

“Jacob, what do you know about binding books?”

“Not a lot. Why?”

“I think Book Nook number 3 is going to have to wait.”

The next day, Melissa and Jacob checked out as many books as they could fit in her car from the school library and brought them home.

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Jacob asked nervously, stroking the spine of ‘And Tango Makes Three’ (banned because the penguins are gay).

“Do you want the kids to be able to read these or not?” Melissa asked, carefully removing the cover of ‘Are You There God, It’s Me, Margaret’ (Banned because of content relating to menstrual cycles).

“Of course I do!” Jacob said.

“Get to work then,” Melissa said, passing him the new covers portraying state approved books to put on the banned books.

Together, they worked through the night and into the next day, replacing covers for ‘The Wizard of Oz’ (promotion of socialist values), ‘The Lorax’ (Being anti-logging), and ‘The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe’ (Mysticism). Around noon the next day, a knock on the door jolted them from their work.

“Who is it?” Melissa called.

“Reinforcements!”

Melissa opened the door to the rest of the Abbott Crew, plus Kristin Marie.

“What are you all doing here?”

“I invited them,” Jacob said, “Please don’t be mad. There’s so many books to rebind before Monday.”

“I brought wine!” Janine sang, rushing to the kitchen to get glasses.

Melissa yawned and stepped aside to let them all in. Barbara smiled softly and held the redheads arm.

“You and Jacob are doing a good thing,” she said softly, “But it’s time for us to take over. You go to bed. We’ll take care of this.”

Melissa nodded gratefully and climbed the stairs, glancing down at her work family and smiling. She’d never admit it, but she kind of liked having people in her house. They were all crowded around the table, a glass of wine and a book in each of their hands.

“For the kids!” Jacob said, lifting his glass in a toast.

Melissa mimed raising a glass to him as she headed to her room.

“For the kids,” she whispered, collapsing into bed.

#abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #melissa schemmenti #jacob hill

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zombie-rott · 8 months ago

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Survival Is A Talent: 3

Part 1. Part 2.

Pairing: Gen. None.

Rating: Mature for difficult themes throughout.

Summary:

“Weakness was not something Phantom had ever been permitted to show back beneath the ground. His father, a tyrant leader of their pack, came down harshly on anyone who dared to show an ounce of discomfort or disdain. Male or female, grown or child; he was a brutal man with brutal ideals. But despite Phantom’s inept ability to hide his pain, he’d never felt quite like this before. Nor had he trembled quite as much as he had done since coming to the surface.”

Phantom, the new quintessence ghoul, is struggling to adapt to live on the surface. What started as surface sickness has quickly developed into quintessence burn out. And with a reluctance to ask for help, Phantom finds himself down a dark path. It’s up to Papa, Aether and the pack to drag him back; kicking, screaming but alive.

In full on A03.

When the tour ended Copia was given approximately sixteen hours of which to decompress, ten he used for sleeping, two he used to organise his diary for the coming days and the rest were spent dissociating. Simply sitting on the couch in front of the television and getting lost in his weariness.

He would be lying if he didn’t admit to having a few thoughts about his young quintessence ghoul. Namely how lonely it was to wake to a cold bed, nobody to curl around for warmth and comfort. Then his mind drifted to a darker place, one where he was caught up in worry. How would Phantom cope now he was home? Would the change send him spiralling and, if so, how was he linguistically going to be there for him when they were worlds apart? He, in his ivory tower, shackled with paperwork and meetings, and the ghoul four stories below in the laundry rooms folding sheets?

Copia made an effort to keep in touch. Honestly, he did. But life as figurehead of the clergy was exhausting. Every spare moment he had become reserved for silence and rest. Endless meetings, reports mounting, sister on his back, siblings confessionals, disciplinary hearings, job appraisals, talks of the next big thing; more and more and more until his brain felt like mush.

His communication fell by the wayside and he opted for stolen glances and moments instead. They chatted briefly after chapel and caught up in the hallway but it wasn’t the same. Their candid conversations rapidly trickled away to nothing more than mundane greetings and, eventually, lies.

You don’t ascend to Papa and not learn to read your flock. Especially Phantom, a ghoul he had spent some amount of intimate time with to the point where he knew him by smell; the undertone of quintessence ozone mixed with lavender and chamomile. It was easy to see the lies and little fibs the creature told when asked about his welfare. The clergyman could spot them a mile away as if they were brightly illuminated with neon and plastered on the walls.

Phantom was struggling.

And as the weeks continued, the struggle only grew. Bigger and wider, deeper and more menacing. Eventually catching sight of the ghoul became like a game of ‘ Where’s Waldo? ’. It was as if he’d fallen off the face of the earth and, if the clergyman didn’t know any better, he would be mistaken for believing just that.

The few glances Copia did get sent a pang of guilt through his chest. The ghoul had become haggard, right down to the very way he held himself. Long gone was the confidence Phantom oozed on stage. In its place, the broken creature Copia had comforted on the streets of Milwaukee, or the one he’d held closely after his post-show panic attack.

When Phantom showed up shaking and incoherent at his office door one Tuesday afternoon, it was all Copia could do to stop himself from pulling him inward into a hug. Instead, he sent him on his way with a promise and a burning sense of regret in his gut. The clergy were persistent in their working matters, so much so that time didn’t stop for a simple ghoul, and Secundo was pushy when it came to timekeeping.

Of course, Copia, true to his word, called the young Quint in the evening. Twice, in fact. But was met with a grainy voicemail message. It only served to twist his guilt further. He shouldn’t have shooed him away. Clergy matters were a given, damn near engrained into his daily life from the moment he woke up until he closed his eyes, but seeing Phantom was not. And to witness him so distressed, practically shaking with fear? Copia didn’t think he could forgive himself for how bluntly he had dismissed him.

From that day things grew steadily more concerning. The ghoul showed up late to mass, disassembled and barely holding it together. And when he missed practice, Copia knew this had grown deeper than anxiety. The wound had opened and had begun to fester.

~ Read In Full Here ~

#the band ghost #my fan fiction #my fanfic #ghostband #ghost tumblr #ghost band #ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfiction #papa emeritus iv #papa copia #nameless ghoul #nameless ghouls

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themerriweathermage · 1 month ago

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Rules of the Baron's Court

Summary: Wanting someone to be there for him the way Sunny is to his sister, Bren agrees to open up a Baron's Court for his hand

Pairing(s): Gen, Sunny X Nix, Quinn X Bren (It's Complicated)

POV: 1st Person POV (Bren), 3rd Person (Gen)

Warnings: Angst, Quinn being a toxic POS (but what else is new)

Co-creator: @i-drink-and-i-write-fics

Divider Credit: firefly-graphics

Not even a few days had passed for us to get settled back home when Lydia came into the office and presented me with a book I wasn’t familiar with.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“Rules of the Baron’s Court.” She tapped the faded gold embossing on the hardcover. I raised an eyebrow slightly, waiting for her to elaborate. “You mentioned to me once that you’d give anything to have a man like Sunny, the way Sunny is to Nix. Someone to help you rule the barony.”

“Yes, I can recall the rest of that conversation as well. Specifically, the part about needing a man like Sunny, but wanting a man like Quinn.” I retorted.

“So arrange a baron’s court.” I opened the book, thumbing through the pages and skimming the chapters.

“A court... of suitors?”

“Open it up to all the baronies, to be fair.”

“I’m not sure I follow.” I murmured.

“The court is a game of skill. But courting the baron is serious, and with the title of Lord of Nost Bronadui on the line, there are rules that a suitor must follow, for one.”

“And for two?”

“I suggest you make yourself familiar with your new reading material. And of course as the Baron, you’re welcome to make your own house rules.” I grumbled quietly at her, taking the book and settling down on the couch.

She came back a few hours later to find me still engrossed and jotting down notes.

“I take it you like it?”

“I... know this is better than letting my impulsivity run wild.” I replied. “Where did you get the book?”

“I don’t think there’s a soul in the Chau family who’s married for love. This is how it was once done, but I think most of their marriages are arranged these days.” Lydia replied.

“I pity the person that does get an arranged marriage with Juliet Chau.” I muttered.

“And I pity her.” Lydia remarked back. I raised an eyebrow slightly. “I wanted children, but Quinn didn’t give a rat’s ass about children. Chau will be expected to carry on the line, whether by her will or not.”

“Ugh.” I shivered. “Not a fate I’d wish on my worst enemy.” Lydia sat down on the edge of the couch.

“So what are your thoughts?” I closed the book, setting it aside and sitting up to go over my notes.

“I like the basic rules. Open up the court to all the baronies, Broadmore, Chau, Quinn’s included. Let them offer up suitors, and show off their exports. That way it’s fair across all territories. Our first court can be a night court.”

“A dinner party?”

“Something of the sorts. And I... well I expect everyone to be in no less than their best.” I replied. “The barons can show off their exports; I won’t deny them that, but I want suitors to bring a gift themselves, something personal. It’ll be their ticket into the event, so to speak.”

“And the ones that think they’re the gods’ gift to men?” Lydia teased.

“You have my explicit permission to deny them at the front door.”

“He’s not a smart man, Bren.”

“I guess I’d better start praying that he wises up then.” I replied. “I have a list of things in a general vicinity that I like, but I’m not encouraging explicit hint dropping either. And if anyone puts a toe out of line, I’m sending them home, baron or not.”

“So, fancy dress, a set of manners, and a tailored gift? I think I can work out some polite invitations that capture that.” Lydia sighed softly, taking my notes.

“Do be sure that Waldo gets an invitation with information that he can disseminate to the rest of the barony.” I added. “We all know that invitation won’t ever leave Quinn’s desk.”

“It sounds to me like you’re saying Quinn’s not the baron.” She stated but it was still a question. I snorted.

“He is baron in title only, like Chau. Arrogant enough to think he still has mastery of his own empire, and stupid enough not to realize that it’s already been poached from under him.” She raised an eyebrow. “Waldo took the oath. I knew before Gideon’s. There is a reckoning coming for Quinn.”

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my favorite Regent come knocking on my door.” Waldo teased, opening the door and seeing Lydia standing there. “To what do I owe the occasion?” Lydia simply smiled and handed him a fancy invitation sealed with the wax crest of House Enduring. “Fancy. Not a social call then, I take it?”

“A sort of social call. The invitation is for you and for you to provide to the rest of the barony.” Lydia took a seat when Waldo gestured for her to come in.

“I don’t suppose there’s one on Quinn’s desk too, is there?” Lydia shrugged.

“I don’t know. I couldn’t be assed to deliver it to him.”

“Given you’re here to hand-deliver this to me, I take it you’re out there hand-delivering these to all the barons?” Waldo asked. “Just not to Quinn.”

“Our staff will still deliver it one way or another. They can just deliver it a day or two late.” Waldo raised an eyebrow, opening the invitation.

“My oh my. Bren is hosting a baron’s court?”

“He’s... he’s lonely, Waldo. Can you fault him for wanting something like Sunny and Nix have?”

“I don’t fault him for wanting companionship; I just know he has proclivities towards Quinn.”

“And now you know why the invitation will be a day late getting to him.” Lydia replied.

“Ah, alright, you’re not just here for the invitation. Spit it out, Lydia.”

“Bren knows about the coup.”

“Yeah.” Waldo wasn’t surprised. “Considering he all but called me Baron before he went to Gideon’s.”

“And he still went to Gideon’s, with that knowledge?”

“Bren got Quinn out of the barony for a few days, while I looked for a capable Regent among the Clippers.”

“Does he...”

“Does he know? Kid’s smart. Sure, he might have been holding out real hope for Quinn, but he knew what I was doing behind his back, sure enough.” Waldo replied.

“Well,” Lydia sighed and stood. “I have a few more stops to make and you have a barony to attend to.”

I looked out the window, letting out a long sigh, watching our staff run my errands.

“Quite the sigh.” Nix murmured. “Are you going to tell me what happened out there beyond the Wall that’s got you planning this?” She held up the invitation. “Not that Lydia didn’t run it by me first and get my approval, but...”

“But Quinn?” I asked. “He’ll never be someone for me like Sunny is to you. Much as both their pasts might be written in blood, there is a goodness in Sunny that Quinn doesn’t have.”

“But could you ever love someone else?”

“I... I don’t know.” I finally replied. “I found answers out there, not the ones I wanted or the ones I expected. And I found family out there, family in Lydia, which I suppose is why I’m so much more willing to take a step back and--”

“Listen? You?” Nix teased.

“Let her help.” I finished, giving Nix a look. “I am tired, Nix, and I know that tiredness comes from chasing Quinn down. I love him so much it hurts, that the thought of letting him go is unfathomable, but I can’t... I can’t live like this. If he wants a relationship, his so-called prize, and he wants to work for it? I won’t turn him down. But I can’t keep giving and giving with nothing in return.”

“I read the rules of the court.” Nix started. “And noted that suitors without a gift will be turned away at the door.”

“Yes,” I sighed. “Yes, you have my permission to throw him out.”

“Am I allowed to use force if he retaliates to being told no?”

“If he storms the gates like the raging bull he is, just let him pass. I’ll throw him out myself. Maybe that will be a rude enough awakening for him that this isn’t a game to me.”

“And if it isn’t?” I couldn’t look her in the eyes or entirely keep the warble out of my voice next I spoke.

“Well that’s Fate, I guess.”

#Rules of the Baron's Court #Welcome to the Badlands Series #Welcome to the Badlands #Sunny X OFC #Quinn X OMC #angst

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gayliketheancients · 1 year ago

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Welcome to the challenge prompt AU

Hello friends, and welcome back to Gay✨ has brainrot for her own fanfic. This post is a welcome to the AU guide where I explain what we’re looking at.

Before I say anything else, a PSA. Fuck JKR. LGBT rights are human rights. How did she write the most queer coded characters and then be like “sorry, only Fumbledore is gay. Love him!” Lol nah.

This au is based loosely off the criteria in this post, where the lovely anonymousqualities called into the Tumblr void for someone to take on their idea. I’ve heard their call, they looked over my outline, and I am posting part one today! Woo! The OG prompt was meant to be plotless, kinda crack fic ish, but I don’t know how to quit when I’m ahead so there will be a good deal of lore-building/lore-fixing from the source material.

Enjoy! ✨

Timeline: Halloween 1981 - Harry’s 8th year

Ships:

To Death, With Love: gifts within the love affair between Life and Death

Jegulus, Wolfstar, NobleFlower, RoseKiller, PandaLily, platonic MoonWater, Drarry (in the future), and more!

Things it will be featuring:

Regulus raising Harry

Harry and Draco becoming friends as young children

Regulus being a spy for James - but not the Order, never the Order. Him building a resistance of former death eaters with Narcissa Malfoy’s help.

Harry being a prodigy - and a scary one at that

Lily and James are alive (surprise! Regulus put them in a coma and adopted their son!)

BAMF Minerva McGonagall and BAMF Narcissa Malfoy

Snape gets an actual reception arc instead of dying a trash lord (hello, Uncle Severus)

And so much more!!!

A link to the series ❤️

1-There Is No One Else

Regulus saves Lily, James, and Harry. Minerva saves him. Custody changes, Remus goes ape shit on Dumbledore, and the smallest moments of context.

2-Family Home

Regulus raising Harry from ages 1-4 (ft Grandma Minerva), meeting Miss Cissy and Draco

So many cute moments in this one.

3-We Who Remain When The Price Was Paid

Harry Potter becomes the Master of Death on his 5th birthday. It's like playing where's Waldo, but instead, it's where are Harry's uncles???

Narcissa starts the resistance of exclusively wives of Death Eaters (blood magic pta moms)

Uncle Moony, Uncle Padfoot, Uncle Barty, Uncle Sev

4-Ragtag Little Family

Regulus just wants to hold a family meeting. But you can't hold a family meeting unless you can get the whole family in the same place.

A prison break, wolfstar reunion, wolfsbane potion trials, blood magic pta moms get a name, another prison break, a unicorn, a rat, and a birthday.

(happy adoption day, Uncle Moony)

5-Moony, Bobcat, Padfoot and Prongs are proud to introduce Harry James Potter-Black

Harry's last year before Hogwarts. Lily and James are awake, we get the family meeting Regulus has been wanting, and everyone tries to figure out how to function again.

6-Mirror Images, Distorted Reflections

Year One (in progress)

7-Forbidden knowledge and misunderstood monsters

8-Turns (in the tides of war)

9-The choice no one gets to make

10-The ones who lived

11-I love (the ghost of) you

12-Roads unseen guide us home

13-Always and forever with you

Fan Art (yall, you have no idea how exciting it was to even just typer that omg)

From our beloved prompt giver, @anonymousqualities from little Luna in 4-Ragtag Little Family ❣️

#glta #glta writes on ao3 #glta writes fanfic #glta writes #glta has brainrot #challenge prompt au #regulus raising harry #Moonwater raising Harry #platonic Moonwater #marauders era #marauders fanfic #Jegulus #supportive + platonic Jily after the birth of Harry #Harry calls Regulus Papa #I will give no spoilers of the Hogwarts years yet my plan is too good #wolfstar #nobleflower #Drarry

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tryskomys · 1 month ago

Text

Wet Sand

Stone Gossard x OC

Chapter 13 - Mona Lisas And Mad Hatters

Summary: too late.

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

notes: warning: an extra hefty batch has been cooked in the copium lab and these two are passing that shit back and forth like a big juicy spliff.

uh. so. this is a big one. i feel like i’m force-feeding you, it’s fucking 9,1k words. and yes, yes, i know - working title is ‘tryskomys’s wonderous trope extravaganza’. i hope you’ll enjoy this as the reader meta-beings you are. you’re all invited for a game of where’s waldo (waldo = a trope) - let’s see how many you can get! gotta catch ‘em all, man. gotta catch them all.

jokes aside, this chapter is really a labour of love and some of the lines in this were the first ones i’ve written for this story. so i hope you’ll enjoy <3

tws: uh, how do i word this without spoilers…bloody injuries - squeamish folk be careful. fighting, fists. allusions to the ol’ es eggs. nothing explicit - not how we roll here. but come on, you can imagine what’s happening. bad deals (seriously, don’t do this). i’m chronically european so i may have delusional ideas about how travelling through the states works - google maps are my only friend, please don’t laugh at me xx

if you read all of that, here’s a warm forehead kiss <3

songs:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

April 4th, 1989

“Green light, Keeks! You’re going on a little tour, starting April. First stop - New York.”

“Holy shit!”

At the beginning of March, Keeva was stopping by the office of Love Bone’s manager Kelly to pick up some printed promo posters for their first EP - he immediately pulled her aside to give her the exhilarating news.

“Polygram will get you a van, it’s a little run-down but it will do,” Kelly said, tapping on a bunch of papers on his desk that had all the details on them. He handed one to her - it listed the properties of their van. Keeva didn’t understand the first shit about cars, though.

“We’d travel on a bloody wheelbarrow if it meant we could go on the road,” she chuckled and flipped the paper to check the tour dates. “God, I can’t believe it! Ahh!”

“Booked you the hotels already, the label will pay for everything,” he explained and took a drag from his cigarette with a genuinely excited grin. “Check this out - they’ll supply three rooms at every hotel -”

“Oh, shit,” she interrupted, mouth agape. “They’ve got money money.”

“Yup. Tell the guys to split into pairs,” Kelly finished the sentence and paused, clearly carefully choosing his next words. She’d noticed.

“Hm. What’s the catch?” she asked and leaned on his desk as he handed her his cigarette so she could hit it. He sucked his teeth.

“Fuck, nothing gets past you, does it?” he scoffed and took the cig back after she took a puff, a curious squint on her face. “Uh, well - they will give us three rooms because there are no other rooms. And except for Philly, San Francisco and Portland, even these rooms each have just one double bed.”

Keeva had to hold back a cackle.

Of course you were gonna hit me with that.

“Ah. You know, somehow I knew you were going to say that and I was hoping you wouldn’t,” she nodded with a tight-lipped smile and then let out a huge sigh. “But you never disappoint me, Kelly, that’s what I love about you.”

He was obviously pleading with his eyes to make Keeva spread the message to the band herself. She put a hand on Kelly’s shoulder with a mockingly consoling expression.

“I’ll make sure to tell the guys very delicately for you, no worries. I’m sure they’ll be happy to cuddle after a few nights away from home.”

Kelly visibly relaxed with a sigh and slumped his shoulders.

“You’re my shining star, babycakes,” he said and walked around the table. He took Keeva’s face in his palms, shaking her head from side to side. Sometimes he did that - squished her cheeks and turned on his lisping baby voice. “Light at the end of the tunnel. The thorniest, most majestic rose in the Garden of E-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Keeva rolled her eyes and in turn patted his shoulders. “So I’ve been told many times.”

“I’ll make sure yours and Stoney’s bed is the best,” Kelly pointed a finger in her face, gave her cheek one last squeeze and then walked back behind his desk. He sat down and started organizing the scattered papers.

“Don’t waste your time. The Ritz or the Bronx - he snores, anyway,” she nonchalantly scoffed as she gathered the posters that were stacked in the printer. But meanwhile, her heart rose all the way up to her throat.

Wait. Wait, wait, wait. One bed.

Oh, that’s bad.

Polygram might’ve been generous enough to give them an ugly van, but they couldn’t spend more money on plane tickets to get them to New York first so they could drive around the tour dates from there.

Which meant a three-day ride from Seattle across the whole States just to get to the first venue, switching at the wheel every few hours so the other could get some sleep - and there were only five of them, because Keeva never had the money or the time to get a driver’s license.

The ride was exhausting. Even though she was sitting in the front seat the whole time, Bruce had to pull over so she could go puke in a ditch three times before they even got out of Washington.

The guys in the back seemed to be having fun, though. Greg spent most of the time he wasn’t driving by sleeping, Andy brought his portable video game so he could keep his little fantasy football league rolling - Jeff was really into it, too.

Oh, Andy. He came back a few days before his birthday and he was drained. Weak, hungry, tired. Exhausted but determined - even through all that, he looked healthier than before and the tour was somewhat of a distraction for him, easing him into the dawning reality of coming back to normal life.

For his sake, there were a few rules set up before they left - no partying, no excessive drinking and hard or soft drugs in his presence, preferably not at all.

The guys seemed a bit bummed at first - it wasn’t like they were planning to get fucked up every night, but this was their first tour - everyone in their twenties, what else were they supposed to do than have a good time? And ‘a good time’ was always stereotypically tied to substances. Loosening people up, connecting. Almost a necessity to make a group of differing personalities get along, albeit for a limited amount of time.

Thankfully, they were all intelligent enough to set all the expectations and youthful recklessness aside and promised to behave for their friend.

Stone spent the whole ride reading - he was going through his Lovecraftian phase. Everything cosmic horror excited him. The fear of the unknown, the horror of silence, of colours, of what lurks in places we cannot possibly reach.

Keeva wondered if he found himself in that. The threatening of things that are personal to him - stuff that disrupts the usual, disturbing the comfortable silence that’s shared with someone important, the vast smallness and inconsequence of our existence when facing the skies.

Loneliness. Deep-seated fear. Pain.

He’d just say to her that he needs to get scared sometimes to see if he still has emotions - with that stupid smug smirk on his face.

When they arrived at the hotel and walked into their room for the first time, Keeva was genuinely taken aback.

She didn’t expect anything fancy, but this looked a bit like her parents’ flat back in London - and that was a drug den.

There was a disgustingly ragged red carpet in the middle of the room, a double bed with iron posts, a tiny bedtable next to it and one armchair in the corner, covered in holes.

The most luxurious thing about it was the little balcony next to the window - it gave them a beautiful view of the peeling wall of the building next to them.

“Well, isn’t this nice,” Stone said with an amused smile as he dropped his duffle bag next to the bed.

Keeva had to swallow a few times to push down the lump in her throat. She’d hoped that somehow, somewhere, a mistake was made and they would end up having two beds - even though she knew that was just delusional.

Fucking hell. Someone up there has really got it in for me.

“Wow, The Plaza really isn’t what I thought it would be like,” she chuckled and walked over to the window to let some fresh air into the stale room.

Sadly, the breeze wasn’t as satisfying as she thought - New York definitely had nothing on the crisp mountain air that was floating around Seattle.

Nonetheless, she inhaled a big breath and took a quick peek at Stone over her shoulder. He was searching through the bag for something.

“Uh, you wanna take the bed?” she said, her voice coming out just as meek as she’d feared. “I’m fine with the floor, it looks clean enough.”

He looked up with a smirk and continued to rummage around.

“I don’t bite, Baby,” he hummed and when he noticed Keeva’s eyes widened for a split second, he chuckled and looked away again. “Kidding, you take the bed, of course. I like sleeping on the floor. Makes me feel grounded.”

Stone clearly expected her to laugh at his stupid pun, raising his eyebrow when she just looked away and took another breath of the smoke-laced air outside.

“I mean - we can -” she stuttered out, but he shook his head and finally found his pipe and a little zip bag with a few clumps of weed buried under all the clothes. Keeva was glad that he at least had the decency to dig it in so deep - every time they passed a state border, she was so on edge that she thought she’d fall out of the open window.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Stone said without much care in his voice and threw the pipe and his book on the bed. He took a towel out of his bag and headed to the bathroom to shower. They still had a good few hours before the quick soundcheck for tonight’s show.

Keeva rested her elbows on the windowsill, watching all the stereotypical yellow taxis pass down the street below.

Picture-perfect New York. Just like she’d imagined when she was selling cheap postcards at her dodgy music shop in the dumps of Shoreditch.

Ever since the dawning thought came to her mind on that roof six months ago, she’d been scrutinized by the memory of every second spent with him.

She didn’t understand - how can you be haunted by something that is still in the process of happening?

It was like a dam broke when she allowed herself to think those words - and it was irreparable, no matter how hard she tried to rebuild it.

Suddenly, Stone was occupying her head from the moment she woke up to the moment she fell asleep at dawn. Before, she’d thought that her supposed friend was on her mind way too often.

But it was nothing compared to…this.

Every time he closed his eyes while playing, making himself miss a few notes. Every time the corner of his mouth twitched when he threw a jab her way. Every time he scratched his jaw while reading his notes in the studio. Every time he looked at her with a thoughtful frown during their lunches at Julia’s, his eyes swirling with an unreadable emotion.

Every single move he made, her brain taunted her by repeating the same sentence.

I’m in love with you.

Over…and over…and over.

Keeva felt much less cool these days. More prone to blushing at his digs, having a hard time coming up with witty quips to combat his. She was pretty certain that from an outsider’s point of view, it wasn’t too noticeable - but deep inside her bones, there was a civil war going on.

And then - somewhen along the excruciating timeline of the past months of recording the EP and spending more and more time with him due to having fewer shifts at the café - came an earth-shattering consensus of her heart and her mind: Stone’s pragmatic idea of ‘the friendly help-out’ was the only way to get rid of the silly false idea that she could actually be properly in love with him.

It would set her free of this romantic nonsense. She would do it and realize that there’s no noble feeling behind this madness. He’s just hot and rude, that’s it. They can still like each other as pals and have fun, blow off some steam. But nothing else.

That is a terrible, terrible idea.

That is actually a viable solution to all of my problems.

After pondering those two opinions back and forth from dusk to dawn, Keeva convinced herself that the second one was the right way to go.

She already felt like she was ruining their friendship by having those thoughts about him - sometimes, she thought, Stone looked at her as if he could hear them and that was the last thing she’d want to risk.

Well, if I offer this, it will send a clear message. And then he won’t suspect anything because -

Ugh, there’s nothing to suspect, shh.

He won’t feel weird about it because I’ll affirm that there is no it. And that there will be no it. Fuck, I’m not making any sense.

This building had a strange energy. She felt like she was in closer proximity to him than at home, where they were living in the same room. Maybe it was the different environment. Different state. The beginning of life on road - even if it was only a few dates now.

Keeva was thinking so loudly that she hadn’t noticed that Stone got out of the shower, put on clean clothes and walked out on the flimsy balcony. He sat down on the iron floor, clearly not caring that it was both cold and dirty.

She peeked out of the window so she could see him - the still-crispy Spring breeze flowed through his freshly washed hair. The scent of strawberries and the weed he was puffing on - that strange mixture that had grown to encompass everything he was to her - carried over to the window even through the stench of car fumes.

His nose peeked out of the curtains of damp hair that obscured the rest of his face. He rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes.

And the soft smile that appeared on his face as faint sunbeams sparkled through the clouds and shined on his face charmed Keeva so intensely that she moved away from the window and made the few challenging steps toward the balcony.

She walked out and sat opposite him with a sigh, waited for a few moments and then fixed her eyes on the wicker pattern under her feet - he looked at her with a questioning grin, but she was prepared to avoid his eyes at any cost.

Stone tried to loosen up her obvious nervousness by jokingly offering her a puff, fully expecting her to throw him one of her looks and do something like kick his shin. So, he jumped a bit when she actually reached for the pipe, raised it to her lips and took a big hit.

Keeva would’ve loved to see his expression when she handed it back, but she valued her already fleeting confidence more.

Fuck it.

“You know, I’ve been kind of thinking about that whole, uh, proposal of yours.”

She didn’t lift her eyes, but she could tell that Stone paused for a double-take between her and his pipe.

“Huh?” he said, curious and confused.

Keeva held her breath as she thought her next words through.

“You know, how you said that you’d help,” she said softly, still adamant about not looking at him. He sat back and laid his hands in his lap, spreading his legs. She’d noticed that he started picking on his nails.

“I’m lost.”

He really did sound lost, but as always, there was a hint of tease in his voice that could’ve been interpreted as taunting.

“I mean - uh, that friendly help-out thing?” she peeped out, squeezing her eyes closed as she finally lifted her head. “That you said we could do anytime we needed?”

Keeva opened one eye to see Stone’s surprised face, his expression going from a confused frown to a reserved smile.

God. He wasn’t teasing.

“Oh. Uh, sure. Sure, I mean…” he stuttered out, clearly taken aback. “Fuck, you good?”

This is bad.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? Sorry, I -” she started and felt her determination gush out of her ears as if her head was a broken hydrant. “- it was just a stupid question, forget about it. No worries, really.”

I’ll be leaving to bury myself alive now, bye.

“No, the offer still stands. I’m just surprised,” he chuckled and took a puff, quickly going back to his ever-so-cool attitude. “I thought that we’d established that that’s not ever happening, so what’s going on?”

Keeva blinked a few times to digest his words.

Shit. I didn’t think he was going to question it.

“Um…it’s just - there’s, like, a guy that I like and, you know, if something happens I don’t wanna look like a clueless idiot in front of him,” she lied through her teeth, giving him a cramped smile.

Please believe me. Please believe me.

“Uh, right,” Stone squinted at her, slowly breaking into a smirk.

He doesn’t believe me.

“Jeez, what kind of a best friend are you? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he continued, nudging her leg with his foot. She quickly tucked her knees under her chin to get out of his reach - she wanted to keep at least the few remaining bits of her dignity.

Best friend.

“I - didn’t wanna jinx it,” she mumbled. Stone just nodded.

“Who’s the lucky guy?”

Keeva had to push back an eye-roll.

That’s not the point and you know it, dickhead.

“Met him at The Ditto. You don’t know him,” she explained and folded her arms to hide her flinch.

He knows everybody. Shit.

“Oh. Phew,” Stone whistled. “So he’s an out-of-town? What’s his name?”

This was quickly spinning into an interrogation she did not appreciate. On one hand, he had a right to ask his questions, but knowing him - he already read her like a book. Keeva was a terrible liar and he knew that very well.

“Yeah, uh, K-Kentucky. Jed from Kentucky.”

Stone snorted.

“Jed from Kentucky?” he repeated with raised eyebrows and put a strand of his wet hair behind his ear. I’m in love with you. “Didn’t know you were into hicks, I would’ve tried my redneck accent on you. People say it’s indistinguishable from the real deal.”

“That wouldn’t work because, unlike you, he’s hot,” she spat back with a taunting frown. He wasn’t having any of it, though.

“Ouch, you’re giving me a whiplash,” he chuckled and theatrically threw his head back, accidentally bumping into the wall with a thud. “Didn’t you just say you wanna have sex with me, like, thirty seconds ago?”

Keeva’s cheeks grew so red that she actually feared a vein would burst under her skin. She rolled her eyes and banged her forehead against her knees a few times. She had holes in her denim overalls and her legs was pleasantly cold, unlike her face.

“Describe him then, maybe I just don’t recognize him by name,” he kept pushing and now she was certain he was just fucking with her. It was written all over his smug face.

“He’s, uh…”

Her brain froze on a single set of features long ago. Almost like she wasn’t able to recall any other ones existing anymore. No matter how hard she tried, she could never see anything else.

Brown waves, huge green eyes, elven nose. Pale, gangly and a self-righteous prick.

“He’s, uh, blonde,” she mumbled, snapping away from his face. “Blue eyes, little button nose, kinda tan. Sweet guy.”

Nailed it.

Stone gave her a slow praising nod, humming.

“Solid choice, Baby,” he said and dragged his leg up, resting his elbow on his knee. I’m in love with you. “I might not be a good training wheel for that, though. Quite the opposite. You sure that we’re on the same page here?”

Oh, come on.

“I, uh…fucking hell, Stone,” Keeva sighed and dropped her arms in frustration, finally snapping. “Stop grilling me, ‘kay? You know I just wanna try it out. If you’re not up for it, I completely get it, but I’m already dying from embarrassment here so stop doing this whole fucking Stoney thing you do.”

“What Stoney thing?” he innocently asked and had to bite his cheek to hold back a laugh.

“This!” she groaned and stretched out to repeatedly slap his arm. “Acting - like - you’re - clueless - while - you - laugh - in - my - fucking - face!”

“Sorry, sorry, yield!” Stone giggled and shuffled away, running his hand through his hair again. I’m in love with you. “Couldn’t resist, come on. I can’t just let it slide without fucking with you a bit. Of course I’m up for it.”

Of course I’m up for it.

“You are?” she frowned as the weight of the moment finally hit her. She didn’t even realize she was holding her breath almost the entire time.

“Sure, why wouldn’t I be? Already offered it, too,” he shrugged as if all of this didn’t phase him at all.

“Yeah. But I thought you, like, changed your mind or something,” she said and reached out, taking the pipe from him to take another hit. “Got sick of me and all that, now that I’m not fresh meat.”

Now she could enjoy the way Stone’s jaw dropped - at her gesture or her prickly comment, she didn’t know. But it was adorable, nonetheless.

“Fresh meat?” he questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, I didn’t realize your attention span was so solid. Kinda impressed,” she nodded and handed back the pipe. He scoffed.

“You’re a sardonic little shit and you look like a Gelfling. How could I get sick of that?”

The sincerity in his voice hit Keeva right in the stomach, melting her from the inside like a laser beam. She could do nothing but hide her wide grin by resting her head on her knees again. A few moments of silence passed before Stone cleared his throat.

“So is there a Jed from Kentucky or…”

“I hate you,” she lamented and couldn’t help but start laughing as the tension slowly left her muscles. He joined her, slapping his knees.

“Just making sure I’m not stepping on any redneck toes here,” he raised his palms in defence with a shrug. She groaned.

“Ugh. Fuck. Me.”

“Yeah, I think that’s the theory,” he said when the laughter died down, a sly smile still resting on his face.

Keeva chuckled and then the air started getting heavy again. The high of finally getting this off her chest started fading and the realization of started weighing on her shoulders, making her physically slump.

What the fuck have I done?

“Just, uh…just come up to me when you’re ready, okay?” Stone interrupted the creeping silence, his voice as soft as a feather. “Whenever you want. I’ll wait.”

She wouldn’t dare to look at him, just giving him a nod and a silent ‘thanks’.

“There’s just a few points to go through,” he added, a bit more serious. It felt like it was dawning on him, too.

Keeva raised her eyebrows with an amused grin, trying to lighten the situation.

“Jesus, you’re so professional it’s frightening. Is this a blood pact?” she lunged forward, putting her hand over her mouth. “Do I have to sign a contract? Like an NDA or something?”

Stone mocked a laugh and shook his head in disapproval.

“If you ask nicely, I will print one out for you,” he replied and reached out to flick her nose. She hummed.

“Maybe we’ll find it in the Ten Commandments. ‘Thou shalt not spreadest the word of Stone’s obscene cock size -’”

“I appreciate your sentiments, but please shut your piehole for a second,” he shot back, shaking his head again when she stifled a laugh.

“I just can’t take you seriously, you’re so fucking dramatic -”

“First things first,” he interrupted her again, clearly growing a bit irritated at her nervous rambling. “I’m tested and disease-free, just so you know.”

“Yeah, Stoney, I figured,” she said with a soft smile. It wasn’t like she didn’t expect Stone to be serious about it, but the softness of his approach still sent a warm wave through her body.

“Just putting it out there,” he shrugged and started counting on his fingers. “Second, I try my best, but I’m not clairvoyant, believe it or not. So you have to tell me to stop when you want me to stop. It’s okay to say ‘no’. I need you to say ‘no’. Otherwise, it could mess you up real bad and that’s not happening on my watch.”

Christ. This is really going to happen one day, isn’t it?

Keeva tried to shoo away the anxiety by joking - as per usual.

“Thought we were gonna have sex, not go into a battlefield.”

“Same thing,” Stone said and took a quick puff, ignoring how her eyes widened. She knew that he had a problem with joking to avoid stress, too, but... “Third, I don’t know if you’re taking pills -”

She scoffed.

“I’m a virgin and I’m poor.”

“Right,” he shook his head after a small pause. “Either way, wrapper it is, always. We don’t need any more Stoneys running around this shithole planet.”

“Uh,” she cleared her throat. “I beg to differ.”

“Shush,” he hissed and bit his tongue to hide a smile. He took a longer pause now. Heavier than the last one, which made her shudder. “One final thing. I don’t do ki-”

“Kissing.”

Stone blinked a few times and shuffled in his seat, clearly taken aback when Keeva finished his sentence. His lips tightened into a thin line - she was fairly surprised at his shock.

“You think I haven’t noticed?” she said, giving him a small chuckle. “You might not remember, but virginity doesn’t make you blind, you know.”

Silence.

“You okay with it?” he asked and she could swear she heard a smidge of insecurity in his voice.

Okay is a relative term. Disappointed would be more accurate.

“No kisses, no attachment, no hearts broken. Makes sense,” she shrugged and cautiously watched as Stone sat back, his eyebrow slightly twitching.

“Yeah?”

No.

“Yeah.”

If Keeva didn’t know better, she would’ve taken his sigh as awkward frustration. But Andy’s wise words from all that time ago echoed through her mind. Sometimes girls mistake his sarcasm for flirting.

“Good. Great,” he said, mirroring her polite smile. “Uh, any questions?”

If this is a friendly transaction, I guess it’s childish to ask if you’ll continue to fuck other girls.

“Will it hurt?”

Sure, much less childish.

God dammit. Long pause.

Stone’s expression softened as he broke into a sweet smile.

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t,” he reassured her and reached out to affectionately squeeze her ankle. Keeva couldn’t help but relax.

“You’re sweet,” she said with a chuckle, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

It was all tangled and matted from the long drive and on top of that, desperately asking for a trim. The pink from her teenage years was long grown out and the stress-induced premature grey streak above her forehead was back, further adding to all of her insecurities.

Stone raised his hand as if on cue, twirled the few colourless curls around his index finger and then tucked them behind her ear.

“You’re cute,” he whispered and Keeva darted across his face for a few more seconds before slapping her thighs.

I’m in love with you.

“Well, I promised Jeff that I’ll take a look at his tuning pegs so his bass stays in tune for more than thirty seconds,” she scoffed and started to get up. “Am I dismissed now, professor, sir?”

Stone chuckled, sat back again and - unbeknownst to her - followed her with his eyes as she walked away, all the way through the room and until the very last second before she closed the door behind her.

“Yeah, sure.”

● ● ● ● ● ●

As soon as they walked out on stage, something felt off.

None of them didn’t expect a huge sold-out crowd, but they were so hungry and excited for this tour that they couldn’t help the disappointment.

The Cat Club was decently packed, but full of either label people or random tourists. There were a few people in the front who rocked out to every song from the very beginning, but there were also a couple of others who were clearly off their heads on MDMA.

There were also a bunch of guys that looked like they were from a biker gang, occasionally yelling a slur or two from the back table they were sitting at.

What bothered Keeva the most, though, was the group of what looked like three wasted frat boys that were regretfully standing right in front of her - and the stage and her treasured pedals were way too close to the crowd for her liking.

They were usually taking turns on solos from gig to gig - she, Bruce and Stone sometimes played little games to decide who would be soloing on which songs and today’s rock paper scissors landed her the Stardog instrumental. She loved that one - she could unleash all the boiling swirls of confusion that made their home inside her and channel them into psychedelic madness.

But now, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to pull that kind of attention to herself.

Andy didn’t seem too bothered by the lacklustre crowd. He just did what he did best - he was being a fucking rockstar. And a sharp-tongued one at that.

“Pooks. My sweet, sweet Pookster. Let’s do this bit, baby girl,” he exclaimed into the microphone and walked over to Keeva, taking her around the shoulders. She used to feel embarrassed when he involved her in his routines, but by now she was not only used to it - she entertained it. “How about you tell all of us one outrageous opinion of yours? Loud and proud so we can get a little feel of the audience, please.”

“Okay, uh…” she stuttered when Andy stuck the microphone into her face, brushing her hair aside. She scratched her head and scanned the crowd.

Okay, frat boys right here, biker gang back there, oh - there’s a few punks right here too. Label guys. Oh god, there are metalheads in that corner. This is like a Molotov.

“Oh, there we go: any fucker here that says that they don’t enjoy ABBA is a liar and a stinky, filthy, smelly little poser. Thank you,”

Keeva’s bow was met with a few giggles - mostly from the band - and noticeably more boos. That made her laugh.

“Woah, tough crowd,” she said, backing away from the microphone as Andy and the rest of the band kept on laughing their asses off.

One of the frat boys right in front of her thought that it would be a perfect time to holler.

“Show us your tits!”

That made her stop laughing. She raised her eyebrows as high as they could go.

“You wanna see my tits?” she asked when she walked over to her own mic, patting the ‘I FUCKED TIPPER GORE’ sign on her chest - the guy screamed from the top of his lungs. And by the nature of herd behavior, soon many in the room started whistling and wooing, too. She looked over her shoulder at the band. “Okay, how much were the tickets?”

“Like, three, four bucks,” Bruce answered, a sly smile plastered on his face because he already figured out the punchline.

“Yeah,” she sucked her teeth and turned back at the guy, a pitiful frown on her face. “Looks like you didn’t pay even nearly enough, pal.”

A few more boos echoed through the small room and the band laughed even harder. Although, Jeff was clearly just a snap away from spitting on someone.

“Oh, she’s a little feisty, isn’t she?” Andy giggled, pacing around the stage while toying with the mic cord. “You know, I’ll let you in on a little insider story. This one is dedicated to the front row. Keeks here, she’s a pretty lady, huh?”

Oh no.

As a new wave of whistles appeared, Keeva pleaded with her eyes to Andy to just drop it. She could handle herself. But he just raised his finger as if to say ‘trust the process’. So she just cracked an embarrassed smile and walked over to her amp to hopefully calm down with a beer.

“Yeah, she’s like…some type of a fairy, I think,” Andy continued pacing and waved his arms around as if he was telling the most gripping fairytale of the century. “She’s like four feet tall, pointy ears, tiny little feet. They can kick some ass, but still. Aaanyway, she’s like our resident teddy bear or something. And we call her Pooky. Now, I’m sure that most of you are familiar with the Garfield comics, right?”

A few hoots stood out from the crowd, but the reception was pretty lukewarm so far.

“For those who aren’t, it’s a story about a cat - he’s a sly sarcastic bastard who has this cute little semi-sentient teddy bear. And his name is Pooky, so that’s why we call her Pooky.”

Keeva took a big sip and exchanged a confused grin with Greg, who was having a smoke behind his kit. He offered her to finish his cigarette, so she gladly took it from him and anxiously waited to hear what Andy had cooking up.

“Uh, those of you who’ve read it know that Garfield is really protective of this teddy bear of his, and if someone hurts Pooky, he’ll scratch their ugly little eyes out.”

He said the last thing so nonchalantly it made her inhale the smoke too fast, so she tried to stifle a cough and got all red in the face, making Stone laugh - he was standing right next to her, fiddling with his amp.

“Yeah and, uh, you might be asking yourself ‘Well, if Keeks is the Pooky, then who is the Garfield here?’” Andy poised the question and started stroking his chin like a philosopher. Keeva already knew where he was going, though, as her eyes widened.

No, Andy, don’t do this to m-

“Well, in this alternate universe, the Garfield here is Stoney. And if any of you fuckers -” he pointed from Stone to the trio in front of her, “- try to touch Pooky again, he’s gonna beat your fucking ass into a bloody pulp.”

A wave of screams, hoots, and whistles joined the joyfully raised fists and a few middle fingers. Andy just always found a way to unite the audience, good or bad. Keeva’s eyes popped open and she turned to Stone, who was already looking at her and bending over laughing.

“I’ve seen it happen before and let me tell you, little frat boy heads don’t mix well with Stoney’s boots,” he raised his finger and threatened everyone with a faux dramatic frown. “He’s wearing his trusty rusty Docs tonight and he’s a size 14, so that’s some food for thought for you all. Let’s go, this is Stardog Champion.”

Keeva couldn’t wait to jump into the song, so as soon as Stone finished tuning his guitar - still laughing - they could count it up and rip into the intro.

As they went through the opening riff booming with distortion, Andy quickly went over to her with a sly smile on his face and kissed her cheek.

Just as they were nearing the solo, Keeva stopped roaming the stage and positioned herself right in front of her set-up.

As always, she tried to ignore anything that was going on in front, behind, above or under her, but it felt like someone was grabbing her ankle - then her knee and after that tried to snake higher.

She ripped her leg away and saw that it was one of the frat boys. She mouthed a ‘fuck off’ to him and then reluctantly walked back to the front - she had to use her pedals. But they were just too close and this time, his friend joined in.

They started grabbing her calves and because of how short she was, they would end up reaching all the way up her thigh if she didn’t twitch away - she managed to do that, but the guitar was oh so heavy and her head started spinning.

Where is everybody?

When ripping away didn’t work, Keeva started kicking - and lo and behold, her heavy combat boot landed right on one of the guy’s forehead, taking him out.

Uh. K.O.? Yay? Oh shi-

The other guy grabbed the leg that was still in the air and pulled, knocking her to the floor as she lost balance.

When Keeva looked around her, she’d noticed that they clearly planned to drag her into the crowd, so she did what she usually did back home when a man twice her size tried to beat her up - she spat in his face.

This time, though, it didn’t work out as well as she’d planned, because the guy she kicked down got back up in the meantime, somehow acquired an empty bottle of beer and slammed it against her head.

Before Keeva could even register the pain, the one she spat on swung his fist and landed right on her nose.

And at that moment, she blacked out to the fading screams around her.

She gained consciousness for a few moments just as Stone blew a gasket. He jumped into the crowd after literally throwing his guitar away - even in her delirium, she managed to reach for it and catch it right before it hit the floor. She let out a small ‘oof’ and clutched it to her chest.

Careful, not The 3, man. That’s not cool. Not cool.

Oh, look, blood.

There was a lot of blood. On her hands, in her eyes, on her guitar and t-shirt - and now Stone’s guitar was bloody, too.

In her peripheral, she saw Jeff and Andy jump down too as the crowd around Stone numbered and swallowed him - clearly the punks and bikers in the back were just edging for something like this to happen.

The fuse.

But Stone was doing just fine - he sucker-punched the guy that sucker-punched Keeva and then kicked him while he was on the floor, spewing insults so ferociously that he had spit flying all around him. His height gave him an advantage, too - he stuck out of the crowd and swinging his lanky arms around allowed him to hit multiple people in one go.

Sadly, one of the bikers took the opportunity of Stone’s volatile rage to punch him right in the back of the head.

Even Greg leapt over his kit and went right in. Keeva began to faint again, but Bruce - looking almost angelic in her deluded mind with his brightly bleached hair and gangly limbs - came up to her, scooped her in his arms and carried her backstage.

The last thing she could hear was Stone’s well-mannered attempt to defuse the situation.

“Shut your fucking mouth, you bald cunt! I’ll bash your little fucking brain in, you fucking bastard!”

She woke up in the car as Bruce sped down the road back to the hotel. She felt sick to her stomach, but somehow managed to keep it in as she looked around, her head pounding. The guys were huddled around her, sighing in unison when they saw her eyelashes flutter.

Greg was sitting by the window with wide eyes as he tried to ask her how many fingers was she seeing - he had a wet rag slapped on the top of his head.

“What’re those faces for?” Keeva mumbled and tried to sit up. Andy, who was sitting next to her, quickly moved to ease her down. She grumpily slapped his hands away, but immediately had to apologize as he hissed - the knuckles on his right hand were purple and swolen.

“You’ve been in and out of it for ten minutes,” Jeff said, clearly a bit annoyed. Probably at the world in general, but she cringed at his hostile tone nonetheless. He was pressing an ice pack to his eye - she couldn’t see it, but judging by his expression, it hurt pretty bad.

“We’re going back to The Plaza, someone called the cops so we had to pack up and dip,” Bruce called over his shoulder - he was the only one with a clean face. “Straight to the hospital after that, no arguing.”

Keeva scoffed.

“If we’re running away from pigs, we probably don’t wanna waste time at the hospital for no reason,” she mumbled, her hoarse vocal chords cracking multiple times.

“Okay, Al Capone, take it down a notch,” a barely recognizable voice croaked from the corner - it was even more nasal than usual. “We’re not fleeing a murder scene.”

Her eyes immediately snapped to him.

His visage spoke otherwise - Stone was by the other window, holding a bloody towel to his actively leaking nose. He had a deep scratch slicing his eyebrow and the wide carmine bruise on his cheekbone was visible even in the unlit car.

She stared at his battered face for a few seconds before choosing to hide her horror behind a venomous mask.

I’m in love with you.

“You sounded like you were about to kill someone, what else are we doing?” she hissed and tried to sit up again, almost as if she wanted to lean closer and punch him, too. For what reason, she didn’t know - he didn’t do anything.

There was just an inexplicable wave of anger that repeatedly ran through her - and through him, too, apparently. He took a wet breath and leaned closer as well, clearly ready to throw back an insult.

“Calm down, you two!” Andy pleaded again, trying to push Keeva back down, but she shook his arms off - her head felt like it was about to explode.

“No! I don’t need to go anywhere. I don’t wanna go anywhere.”

“Save the energy, Pooks,” Greg softly said and reached out to stroke her knee. Somehow, he was always the one that managed to calm Keeva down - like the big brother she never had. That didn’t stop her from shaking her head as she laid back down in her seat, though.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Your forehead is cracked open,” Stone barged in again, but his scratchy voice faded in her ears and dissolved like a fog - as did the rest of her surroundings.

“Bullshit. I don’t even…feel a…thing.”

● ● ● ● ● ●

Five hours. They were waiting in the emergency room for five hours already. After many various arguments back and forth, the guys reluctantly agreed to stay back at the hotel to get some sleep - Stone stubbornly insisted on being the one to drive Keeva to the nearest hospital.

That was a good call, because she found out that he had a broken nose when they got there and checked each other’s faces under the harsh fluorescent lamps.

By then, they were sitting on the floor - somehow, it was more comfortable than the plastic seats. Stone was trying to clean the dirt around the cuts on Keeva’s forehead. The blood around his nose was finally drying up.

“Are they fucking melting metal to make the needles from scratch? What’s taking so long?” he spat out and wiped his clammy hands on his jeans. His fingers were vigorously shaking as he reached out again and continued to press the rag to her skin.

“Jesus Chris, chill out, Stoney,” she muttered and quickly patted his knee. “I’m fine.”

“What the fuck even happened there?”

Keeva didn’t even realize they hadn’t talked about it yet. They were too busy trying to take their mind off of things by talking about stupid things - like why hospitals always choose to paint their walls with baby puke yellow. The longer they were there, though, the more on edge Stone seemed.

“Dunno. I was ready to do the solo and they just dragged me down,” Keeva shrugged. “Guess I provoked them or something.”

Stone harshly clicked his tongue.

“Shut the fuck up. Don’t you dare even suggest that it was your fault.”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly subtle,” she replied with a bitter chuckle. “Not my first time getting punched for that, though.”

He stared at her for a moment and then broke into a grin when she gave him a ‘what are you gonna do about it?’ smirk.

“I believe that,” he nodded. “Spunky little runt running around the mean streets.”

“Ow!” she squealed when Stone pressed too hard. He immediately backed away, raising his hands.

“Fuck, sorry. Sorry. I think I’m doing more harm than good here,” he mumbled and put the towel away. He rested his back against the cold wall with a frustrated sigh, darting across the empty waiting room.

He looked as if he’d just walked through a meat grinder. Andy insisted that he wore eyeshadow tonight and as it blended with the sweat and the bruise under his eye, it appeared like he hadn’t slept for weeks. Keeva felt so incredibly bad.

“Never had anyone play the nurse before, though. Kinda enjoying this,” she smiled and nudged his side. He scoffed and looked at her again, scanning all the trails of red that were still smudged on her face.

“That makes one of us.”

“Don’t act so coy,” she pressed and hyped herself up to take Stone around the shoulders, ignoring the sting in her rib she hadn’t even noticed until then. Surely if she was coherent and playful enough, maybe he’d be annoyed instead of worried. “What was that thing that Andy said?”

He shook his head with an amused frown.

“What?”

Oh, you know exactly what.

“You’ve kicked someone in the head before?!” she said, putting on an outraged tone. Stone shrugged and inched away from Keeva to take a proper look at her battered face again.

“Yeah. Hey, what? Why are you laughing?” he chuckled and softly tugged on her high ponytail when she giggled as if it was the funniest idea under the sun.

“Little picket-fence uptown lawyer son getting into street fights?”

He seemed a bit restrained, even though he was silently laughing with her.

“Yeah, not really,” he mumbled and leaned his head on the wall again. “But I wasn’t such a square back then, you know. I was fun once.”

No more frowns today.

I’m in love with you.

“No way!” Keeva theatrically gasped. Her throat was sore from coughing all evening, so the breath painfully hitched in her throat. “I can’t imagine you ever being fun. Causing mayhem, money-laundering alcohol, constantly taking the piss out of your sweet, kind, dainty, adorable roommate. God forbid making sex jokes, eugh!”

Stone laughed, but didn’t add anything else for the next few minutes. Keeva trailed off, too. He clearly wasn’t in a mood to joke and she knew better than to push it.

Fuck, why did I have to make an ABBA joke? Wasn’t even that funny in the first place. It never is.

“I had a girlfriend. Once,” Stone quietly disturbed the stiff silence. She turned to him, only to find his eyes closed. Somehow, he seemed even more beaten than before. “I’ve kicked many hypothetical heads throughout that whole…thing.”

Oh. Oh, right.

“I’ve heard,” she mumbled and the arm she had around him twitched.

Stone scoffed.

“‘Course you did. I feel like it’s a part of the Seattle folklore by now. ‘Hey, remember when Stoney Gossard got cucked by a Mormon and half of the fucking town?’”

Now he sounded beaten, too.

Keeva didn’t know what to say. What could she even say to that? There were no magic words to erase heartbreak, as much as she’d love that.

The comfort that Stone’s mere presence brought her wasn’t something she could express though speaking - let alone trying to rationalize to him why he didn’t bring comfort to someone he was willingly giving it to.

She didn’t expect him to elaborate any further, yet…

“One day I just didn’t have the energy to kick anymore,” he added, slowly and deliberately - as if he was fighting his way through the sentence. “Guess she didn’t like that. Honestly, my legs have been kinda tired since then.”

Keeva tried to recall everything she’d heard about that ordeal.

‘Oh, Tara? Man, she was a bitch.’

‘That girl had a stick up her ass.’

‘Tara was a big ol’ cheater.’

‘I despised how she belittled him.’

‘Tara hated the smart-ass comments. I’m surprised she even lasted that long.’

That’s the one.

“We should write that down. Such sweet poetry from a guy who has a black eye and a ripped lip,” she nonchalantly sighed and squeezed Stone’s shoulder. “You’re a man of many talents.”

The giggle he gave her was more soothing to her injuries than opium could ever be.

“Hey, shut it,” he nudged her before snaking his arm around her waist. “What I’m trying to say is that you’re the first girl I’ve kicked a head for in years, okay?��

Keeva felt like her nose was about to start bleeding again.

“I’m honoured, I swear,” she mumbled and rested her head on his shoulder, exhausted.

I’m in love with you.

“You better be.”

Another long silence followed, but it was much lighter than before. She felt a surge of bravery rush through her pounding head.

“You know, if I’d ever met her, I’d be happy to swing a few fists around.”

She earned another heavenly chuckle.

“Yeah, bet you would,” Stone silently nodded and squeezed her closer to him. “She was like eight inches taller than you, though.”

I can imagine.

Tall. Silky hair. Athletic. Ambitious. Serious. Elegant. Everything I’m not.

I’d punch down hard.

“Do I look like I care?” she muttered, not able to keep her bitterness back, but she realized that probably only made him more amused.

“Not really, no,” Stone said, a wide grin plastered on his face. Keeva sighed. She got so lost in his warmth for a moment that she could barely hear herself speak.

“She missed out, you know?”

“On what?” Stone deadpanned and the honesty in his voice made her heart hurt almost as much as her head. “A resentful sarcastic prick?”

Keeva looked up and lifted her hand, softly turning him to face her. She wondered how he always managed to shed his borderline cocky confidence so abruptly.

“A friend.”

Before she could properly take in Stone’s sad smile, the nurse finally appeared at the door of the waiting room.

Thankfully nobody at the hospital asked any questions - it was three in the morning in the middle of Bronx, they were clearly used to seeing worse.

The nurse cleaned both of them up and disinfected them from head to toe. Keeva got three stitches on her forehead and one little stitch on her cheek while Stone’s nose got painfully cracked back in its usual position. The doctor supplied them with enough Advil for two horses and sent them on their way.

The car ride was silent, but Stone’s melancholic expression was unchanging throughout the whole way to the hotel and up the stairs to their room.

The fact that they only had one bed didn’t phase her much this time.

Neither of them headed to the shower, or to change their clothes, or to the balcony. Or to prepare the floor for sleeping. They just sat on the bed in unison as if the air itself was pushing them down.

Keeva didn’t have the confidence to look at him, so she just started at her lap and observed the tiny cut on her index finger.

Maybe it was the adrenaline of it all that made her bold enough to lift her gaze - only to find that Stone was already cautiously watching her. She shuffled a tiny bit closer - if it was anybody else, they probably wouldn’t have noticed.

But this was him.

He didn’t follow her movement, but something shifted in his eyes. Keeva couldn’t tell what exactly was it - she’d never seen his face so blank.

“You’re hurt.”

I didn’t even say anything.

I didn’t even have to say anything.

She took a moment to think.

If it was meant as an argument for why they shouldn’t, Stone failed to sell it. His voice was low and way too unconvinced by his own reasoning.

Be bold, you little runt. Be bold. It’s only life.

“So are you,” she whispered and reached out to cup his cheek, lightly running her thumb across the bruise that painted it. Stone’s eyelashes fluttered closed as he breathed out a shallow sigh - and that was the final straw she needed. “It makes the pain go away, doesn’t it?”

He opened his eyes.

The green seemed so fluorescent it blinded her. Her heartbeat grew so rapid it deafened her.

But she could still feel.

The rigid mattress was suddenly as soft as a rivlet of down feathers. But it was nothing compared to the tips of his fingers.

She registered his few swift movements only because the sheets wrinkled around her and before she snapped out of it, his knees were at the sides of her hips. Stone rested his palm next to her head and slowly traced her face with his other hand, like he was playing connect-the-dots with her freckles.

“You really shouldn’t learn that from me, Baby,” he whispered and ran the back of his index finger from the tip of her forehead down along her cheek, across her neck and below her clavicle - it felt like he was hovering above her skin. As if he was just touching the tips of the goosebumps that rose before he even moved closer.

Down, down, down.

I’m in love with you.

Too late.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

#90s music #grunge fanfiction #mother love bone #pearl jam #pearl jam fanfic #pearl jam fanfiction #pearl jam imagine #stone gossard fanfic #stone gossard fanfiction #stone gossard x oc #stone gossard #band fic

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commenter2 · 4 months ago

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"The Promening" review

No time for an intro, IT’S THE PROM EPISODE!!

I’m still really liking the Glitch Productions opening theme. I wonder if they would ever consider making a longer version of it? I challenge any song writers here or on YouTube to make a song about it.

Lights turning themselves off, not ominous at all.

(Reading missing poster) Great even in the distant future, The Office is still around.

If there machines, why do the drones need to wear glasses when they could replace them with spare parts? Then again having “spare parts” of fellow drones would probably be creepy.

So the metallic insects aren’t a part of Doll’s powers but are their own organisms.

I’m not going to question the drone with the burning hat, as it doesn’t matter….literally as he is a robot and fire can’t hurt robots.

Though it shows her crazy side, it’s nice to see Uzi trying to protect N when she realizes he is a suspect.

Uzi’s mother was crazy too!

Again, nice to see Uzi’s father try and help her.

Hanging out with the cheerleaders AND having your parent chaperoning a dance, this IS an angsty teens nightmare XD

N’s dramatic NO XD

Callback AND N is starting to remember his past!

It was cute seeing the bug wave to Uzi when she stops to not step on it.

Looks likes Lizzy knows Doll isn’t a regular Drone AND is working with her. A bit surprising but fitting with her bitchy personality.

When you ignore the head slicing (especially since DD’s can regenerate) it’s nice to see V caring about N.

The scene of Uzi’s DD powers activating every time she touches her left hand is interesting as it hints at her eventually learning to control it. However wouldn’t it be more fitting if she used her right hand as not only does it differ from Doll but that was the hand that got stabbed by N in the pilot.

So Doll IS a DD spy and want to let in V!

Blood? Or is the light effecting the color?

Wear the suit N!

Man Uzi is a fast and silent stacker!

Oh yeah, I’ve seen many Friday Night Funkin videos where Ruv has said that. Classic saying.

N IS WEARING THE SUIT!! :D

And Uzi X N shippers rejoiced!

Cat face Uzi :3

I give up, does anyone see a Waldo in the prom audience?

Drones doing the robot. Saddest shit you will ever see.

GO Thad!

Khan (after seeing teacher drinking): Does that even do anything for you?

Teacher (after swig): Not anymore.

Chibi robot poster!

The idea of Lizzy and V hanging out is interesting to me and I REALLY HOPE we see them interacting like this in later episodes, maybe actually becoming friends in the process or more as I think Lizzy might be a lesbian as she did say V was hotter then Doll.

So Doll’s plan isn’t to get with N OR help the DD cause but get revenge on V!

Knowing Lizzy is the daughter of the principal must mean something, even if it’s just knowing he will likely kick Uzi out of school cause his daughter was in danger. At least then she could go and find out what is going on with N.

That robot speaking after Rebecca, and saying V is cute to a female drone (maybe his date?) is another small example of how random and funny the shows humor is.

“Not… THE DOORS!” XD XD XD

OH NO! Doll’s plans is to Carrie V!

So Doll’s origins are that she witnessed V killing her parents, and now wants revenge. This ends my theory about her wanting to be with N, BUT NOW make me wonder who the new robot in N’s flashback is supposed to be?

That symbol’s new! I mean it’s just the hexagon with electron like rings around it, but still it must mean something.

As seen on Doll’s HUD, we now know that the telekinetic/ferrokinetic powers don’t work on things like itself, in this case Uzi, giving us more confirmation that Uzi is not an average worker drone.

Aww Uzi and N’s first flirt fight.

Trailer scene!

Bye Doll, you will be missed. At least now we can get some answers.

IDK why but just see Uzi and the others glowing eyes in the dark was pretty funny. Though how come N and V’s acid and head lights weren’t glowing until the lights came on?

N also doesn’t squish the bug. Uzi X N CONFIRMED XD

It’s funny how the dramatic scene of Uzi about to eat MD oil is just followed by an out of range shot of her finger being pulled out with a pop, and N giving her a thumbs up not knowing what happened.

Doll! Wow she can make some really cool holograms. I hope she uses that more to fight Uzi and the others in the future as that is the kind thing I want to see in later villains.

We finally see Uzi use her powers! It’s also interesting that Doll’s first reaction is that she is sorry for Uzi, but after seeing Uzi’s necklace having the same symbol as Doll’s bracelet makes it understandable. It also gives me a new theory about Doll and Uzi but more on that later, I can say that Uzi and Doll aren’t like this because they were infected by Disassembly Drones.

The other Murder Drones have arri IS THAT A HUMAN?

I’m kind of hoping it’s not as I have previously stated my want to get new robot models in the show. Maybe she could be that robot from N's flashback but was altered differently. If it is, then either JCJ has developed tight outfits that can protect wearers from radiated planets OR most likely, the planet was never hazardous but people think that that so humans can go back to the planet. As for why I’ll explain at the end of the video.

J 2.0!!!! I wonder if she’s bitchier than the OG J?

At least with this Tessa character, we now know how Uzi and the others will get to Earth now.

Another great episode with an interesting theme and a few new villains that we can expect to see in future episodes. Out of all we learned in this episode, I now have a new theory about what is going on with Uzi and Doll.

Though we don’t know much about JCJenson still, we can safely say they built robots and likely wanted to make better models as the company grew. I theorized that while on the planet, the corporation tested out a new advance version of the Worker Drones who had the ability to interact with metal and electrical objects, which would make moving heavy items and fixing computer errors easier and cut cost on making more drones and hiring humans to do that kind of stuff.

Of course something went wrong with their programming and these “Hacker Drones” as I’ll call them went rogue when they wanted to live regular lives like humans and caused chaos on the planet, likely being the real reason why the planet exploded as seen in the pilot. Now free of their human creators, the “Hacker Drones” were able to blend in with the Worker Drones and finally live their own lives alongside them, some even having kids like Doll and Uzi’s mothers who inherited their abilities which were unlocked when going through their unique traumas.

Realizing having robots like this still around could be dangerous, JCJenson created the Dissassembly Drones to hunt and destroy them BUT since the “Hacker Drones” looked like the average Worker Drone, they had no choice but to lie and quarantine the planet and have the Disassembly Drones hunt every robot just to be safe, and to prevent there company from bad press.

What did you think about the episode? What was your favorite part and do YOU have any theorizes about what will happen later in the series?

#murder drones #glitch productions #liam vickers animation

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purplecowbell · 2 years ago

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Black Mirror: A Boring Twilight Zone

When I tell people I love The Twilight Zone, both the original series and the reboot, the first thing out of their mouths is, “You should check out Black Mirror.” I suppress a cringe, thank them for their recommendation, and then never follow through. I don’t because I’ve already tried it, and I don’t think it compares.

I understand why people keep comparing Black Mirror to The Twilight Zone; it’s certainly a more contemporary perspective on issues (at least if you ignore the more recent reboots like many people seem to do), but the actual core of the shows, how and why they depict their speculative worlds, are very different. I apologize for using an insulting title to the Black Mirror fans, but for someone who’s looking for The Twilight Zone, it just does not scratch the right itch for me.

In The Twilight Zone, the writers cover a wide variety of topics. They explore mob mentality, our perception of aliens, and “the other.” They explore tragic stories of luck and ignorant selfishness, and praise heroic stories with martyrs and rebels. My favorite types of Twilight Zone episodes are ones in which there’s no strong message, just Rod Sterling shows up at the end with, “Well, wasn’t that crazy?” There was one episode (“A World of His Own”) where a playwright had a god-like ability to create people and destroyed his old wife to make a new one, and when Rod Sterling starts to narrate at the end, the author interrupts to destroy Rod Sterling. But The Twilight Zone also isn’t afraid of covering serious issues, whether cynical or optimistic, individual or societal. The show can jump from an episode about the mentality of witch hunts and colonization (“Will the Real Martian Stand Up?”) to one about the value of education against tyrannies and the importance of heroic public acts (“The Obsolete Man”). This wide range of diversity allows The Twilight Zone to cover an entire spectrum of imagination and the human condition, whether silly or profound. When The Twilight Zone comments on societal ills (which Black Mirror is famous for), it pressures you slightly on what was already there and asks, “Do you really want this to get worse?” Black Mirror, on the other hand, crushes you with the framework of structural problems without relent.

Black Mirror focuses on the problems of technology, and a focus is fine; it allows you to really get into the granular details. But unfortunately (for The Twilight Zone fans) the exploration of technology is through a singular cynical lens. Every single story is, without fail, a dystopia, for both those who “deserve” it and those who don’t. Some people have argued that this consistency makes Black Mirror intrinsically better, but I don’t read or watch anthologies for repetition. The characters are less “characters” and more cogs in the machine that happen to be human-shaped. No story satisfyingly breaks from the horrific status quo, and the show usually depicts a snapshot of people that could be happening an infinite number of times in other places of the world. Many times the story ends on just the note: “And then everything continues.” The only episodes that I felt were deviations from this were “The Waldo Moment,” “Nosedive,” and “USS Callister.” These are the only episodes where either the characters felt like they mattered (The Waldo Moment), where the ending showed some upside to deviation from the system (Nosedive) or a combination of the two (USS Callister). The emotional spectrum of the characters ranges from black, to gray, to brown, to artificial-happy-yellow. For a show set in the 21st century, its characters are sometimes more black and white than the Twilight Zone in the 1960s. But that’s not a sin; you’re not supposed to worry about complex characters in the anthology episode format. The lack of complexity does, however, clash with the episode length. Most episodes last around an hour, frequently longer, and watching the same emotional shades in the same episode over and over again without disruption for an hour is like watching paint dry. The problem here isn’t all of what I listed; these are mostly personal preferences that some may enjoy. The problem is that even with these qualities and differences, Black Mirror is still being recommended to Twilight Zone fans.

Just because a work of media is of the same format (speculative anthology) does not mean it satisfies the same itch. If someone watched The Twilight Zone for the dystopian episodes like “The Obsolete Man,” or “It’s a Good Life,” or warnings of technology like “The Lateness of the Hour,” (which is a hilarious episode to take as a serious critique against technology), then the connection between Black Mirror and The Twilight Zone is natural to them. But The Twilight Zone had more episodes than those three. Ask 100 different Twilight Zone fans which episode stands out the most to them, and you’ll probably get 50 different answers (I’m not going to pretend some episodes aren’t more popular than others). Ask 100 Black Mirror fans which episode stands out the most, and they’ll probably say, “The one where a politician has sex with a pig.” Black Mirror has two tools at its disposal: shock value and contemporary despair. I have no interest in being bludgeoned to death with either of these.

I ask that Black Mirror fans try to understand their relationship with the genre. Just because The Twilight Zone and Black Mirror are the most popular shows in said genre does not mean they share additional similarities. I also ask that they understand that Black Mirror is not an objective upgrade from The Twilight Zone just because Black Mirror’s differences are more enjoyable for them. I suggest that fans of both shows watch other series to better understand what would actually be relevant to recommend, instead of just suggesting one show to fans of the other. Shows like American Horror Story, The Outer Limits, Solos, and Love Death & Robots might really scratch an itch you didn’t even know you had.

#black mirror #the twilight zone #twilight zone #anthology tv shows #sci fi #science fiction #media criticism #tv show review #Again #sorry to black mirror fans #but please watch other shows #or at least check them out

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qiyra · 11 months ago

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Hey, here are some file management tips that I use working at a studio

Your file names should be in this format:

YYYY-MM-DD Session Name 00 [initial] [1 word revision description]

Date can be your recording or creation date or the day that you started your project, but this date NEVER changes

For example:

2024-04-20 Weed Smorking 03 QV edit

Every time you open a file with the intention of changing something, do a save as for the new revision. So now, it would look like:

2024-04-20 Weed Smorking 04 QV format

Next, you must leave the file in a state that will be easy for the next editor (which may be you). Do them/yourself a kindness by putting everything in view. Zoom out of what you were zoomed in on, deselect everything. Make it hard to accidentally create a change.

Dropbox is industry standard for remote collaboration, but if you don’t do that you should get a cold storage drive that you update on a weekly to monthly basis. Get removable storage docks and back up your work regularly. You can just keep it on the other side of the room, but out of sunlight and in a box to protect against dust.

Your cold storage drive needs to be a hard disk drive. Solid state drives will not protect your data.

Other people have touched on the past bit but I don’t see a lot of people talking about file naming schema or folder structure. A good working folder structure will keep you from guessing. Have a dump for downloads if you want but move them into the proper folders. Using a computer doesn’t need to be a game of Where’s Waldo

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brainrattlers · 2 years ago

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Play It Cool - Tyson Jost (38/n)

Pairing: Tyson Jost x OFC (AJ)

Warnings: A little bit of language, some implied naked shenanigans, but honestly I think we're alright.

Word Count: 3525

Need Chapter 37? https://at.tumblr.com/brainrattlers/play-it-cool-tyson-jost-37n/njuzxoktjxn8

Start from the beginning at https://at.tumblr.com/brainrattlers/play-it-cool-tyson-jost-1n/p7no8u1hzuza

Author's Notes: I'm BACK! Decided to hit up a few of the closer Sabres games to me last week, catching both the Dallas and St. Louis games. I think I'm still trying to catch up on sleep... but it was so much fun. The Sabres fans I met at both games were a blast to cheer with. If you happened to see Waldo (of Where's Waldo fame) at the Buffalo/StL game, you found me ;) Thank you all for being patient while I took a little break from writing. And It's nearly 3am so I'm clearly back to my old self - any typos are mine and I'll probably fix them in the morning!

So where were we? Ahhh yes, Tyson and AJ found out the apartment they wanted was available... but he also has a roadie coming up. Will that throw a wrench in the plans to get moved out of the hotel and into a new home?

The next few days were a blur as Tyson was alternating between home and away games, while AJ was finalizing things for a potential move to the new apartment. She had taken the lead on getting things set up, wanting to make the transition as smooth as possible considering it was the middle of the season - moving anytime is stressful. AJ wasn’t connecting the dots though that this is the man that flies all over the continent to play hockey, waking up in different cities, different beds, wasn’t a huge deal. She was probably making it out to be more detrimental to him than it really was.

But more about the apartment, as soon as AJ took Tyson to see it, he knew that was the one. The property manager hadn’t even shown them past the first two rooms but the giddiness on AJ’s face was enough to tell him it was going to be home, at least for now. The master bedroom was huge, with an en suite bath, including both a shower and a bathtub.

(“No more waiting for you to get out of the tub so I can shower, yeah?”

“You’re just as guilty of soaking in a nice hot bath. Don’t think I didn’t notice the missing bath bomb from my basket.”

“Can’t prove it was me.”

“Your legs and torso were slightly shimmery and you smelled of lavender, Jost.”

Tyson sheepishly grinned.)

There was a guest room in case friends or family came into town. Another room that AJ could set up her computer gear, and also work on some art projects. The two figured that a sofa would be super comfy in there as well, one that could turn into a bed for even more guests if necessary. The kitchen was more than large enough for the two of them to dance while doing dishes.

AJ’s favorite part was how many windows lined the walls. She already could envision stands and shelves of plants flanking them, letting the leaves soak up the natural light that flooded the rooms through various hours of the day. To the west, Key Bank Arena and Lake Erie were visible in the distance.

Hearing of her plans, he couldn’t say no. On top of it making AJ happy, it was a short drive to both the practice rink and the arena. It was a trendy, renovated part of town that was busy with restaurants and things to see and do. They’d be up high enough on the twelfth floor to not be bothered with the street noise. It all just felt right.

Needless to say, they signed a lease that day, and would be able to move in within weeks. This posed a small issue for AJ, but she wasn’t going to make mention of it. At least this time around, Tyson insisted on hiring movers to bring all their stuff up, especially with it being on such a high floor. AJ would just have to direct traffic and then unpack boxes, with all the heavy stuff being put into place already. She wasn’t about to argue about that this time around.

With a loss at home against Florida, the team hit the road for Chicago, losing in OT to one of the league’s worst teams. The next two games were at home, against the Islanders and Ducks. The first game was a win, with Tyson netting himself an assist. The next day found Tyson at practice, and AJ helping the movers get furniture put into place, and boxes all loaded up into various rooms. The remaining items at the hotel were starting to dwindle as AJ moved most of their belongings over.

Coming back from practice, Tyson found the hotel room missing AJ as she was in the process of moving some stuff the few blocks over to the new building. He sighed, looking at the garland and lights that still lined the ceiling of their room. Gently he pulled the hooks from the walls, looping the lights and shiny garland neatly and placing it in one of the empty bins. He honestly was going to miss it at the new place, even though that very same new place was home.

Even when AJ came back to pick up more stuff, the lack of twinkling lights reflecting against the walls made the place feel empty.

With most everything moved over, the last few things in the room were just pillows, a few sets of clothes, and the last few items needed in the bathroom. AJ had made mention it was going to take a while to get some stuff unpacked, and with Tyson going on the road here in a few days, that maybe they could officially “move in” once he returned. Her outward intent was to get most everything unpacked while he was gone, but that was going to be a little difficult as she actually had some plans already in the works for something else.

The two slept hard that night in the hotel, after moving and unpacking a few boxes, as well as rearranging some furniture. The next morning, AJ was back at it, while Tyson had morning skate before the Anaheim game. Taking some time off, she snagged a ticket and made her way to the arena to cheer on the Sabres with a 6-3 victory. Tyson had a pretty good night, another assist and some pretty good numbers in the box score.

One final night together in the hotel… AJ had issues keeping Tyson focused on getting packed up for the four game roadie, which would send him to Dallas, St. Louis, Winnipeg, and ending in St. Paul. Tyson’s interests were more about some late night shenanigans to literally go out with a bang before officially moving into the new apartment. While getting his backpack filled and his suit laid out for the trip, AJ was trying to secretly pack her own backpack, giving the reason of “oh this is my last bag of stuff to go over.”

Little did Tyson know that, while technically true, that bag was going to be making some of the same stops on the roadie.

That Sunday morning, Tyson had morning practice before heading to the airport. In the same time frame, AJ go the last of their stuff moved from the hotel, and she herself headed to the airport, boarding a different plane. She felt awful for what she was about to do.

AJ: Hey babe, I’m pretty exhausted and am going to crash for a bit. Text me when you land?

She wasn’t lying. The motion sickness pills she downed as she got to the airport were kicking in and she likely was going to sleep on the plane. But all the same, AJ felt a little dirty about it.

Right before takeoff, AJ’s phone, which was supposed to be in airplane mode (seriously, who actually puts their phone in airplane mode when flying?), buzzed in her hand.

Tyson: Sleep well babe, only a few more sleeps until we’re both back in our bed. Heading to the airport here in a bit. Ily

A smile hit AJ’s face, thinking about having a space that was truly theirs, with their own things, and room to move around, and could set up everything the way they wanted. As the plane took off, she fidgeted with the engagement ring on her finger, focusing on it, rather than the upward movement of the plane that made her dizzy. Once at cruising altitude, AJ indeed fell asleep to one of Tyson’s house mixes. It took the passenger next to her tapping her on the shoulder to wake her up as they were landing at DFW - what felt like minutes later, but really was hours.

Collecting her bag and trekking through the airport, AJ found her way to the Orange Line, and took the train into Dallas. It was a quiet day on the train, considering it was not a weekday. Watching out the windows, she took in views she’d never seen before. Hopping off at Victory Station, which spit her out right by the arena, leaving the rest of the way to her hotel as about a half mile walk. Checking in, she made her way to the third floor and faceplanted on the bed.

Tyson: On the ground in Dallas. Miss you already. How’s unpacking?

AJ looked around and saw her bag sitting on the ottoman in her room.

AJ: Honestly haven’t really unpacked much. Kind of relaxing at the moment honestly.

Tyson: Understand completely, no big rush. I think we’re going out for dinner. Talk more later?

AJ: Of course. Have fun! (heart emoji)

Looking at her watch, AJ was trying to figure out what to do with her evening. She didn’t want to chance somehow bumping into Tyson going out for dinner, but at the same time, everything nearby was stupidly pricey in her eyes. In a last minute decision, she put in an order online for Shake Shack, and walked to Crescent Court to pick it up. Thankfully, unlike the last time AJ was at Crescent Court with Jess the year before, there were no team buses or players around. With food in tow, she arrived back at her hotel, sprawling out on the sofa to enjoy dinner and a movie.

It was driving her nuts though knowing Tyson was maybe a mile away, but she’d see him soon enough.

With a few texts, both insisted they were needing sleep, and that they’d talk more Monday.

Snagging breakfast at the hotel, AJ contemplated what to do before the game that evening. Checking out what was nearby, she walked to the Dallas Museum of Art, taking in a wide variety of pieces by famous artists. At the same time Tyson was a half mile away getting ready for morning skate, with a strange feeling. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but something definitely felt odd.

Tyson missed AJ, but it wasn’t the same as other roadies. He had butterflies in his stomach for some reason.

After finishing up at the museum, AJ got in a nap before getting cleaned up and heading to the arena. There were a surprising number of Sabres fans at American Airlines Center. Getting down to the glass on the Sabres’ warmup side, AJ knew where Tyson would be warming up. She had a tiny sign that would fit in her backpack she traveled with.

The fans congregated together, chatting about where everyone was from and who everyone’s favorite players were. While she agreed that Thompson and Dahlin were great players, AJ made mention that Tyson Jost was her favorite. The guy with the kid next to her looked at her weird, but another person piped up, commenting on what a great pickup he was for the Sabres. It made her heart happy.

Looking around the end of the ice, there were a number of other signs for players, including a couple more for Tyson. Impatiently waiting until the 16:00 mark was tough for AJ, but the team took to the ice tossing pucks at Anderson playing in his 700th game. Her eyes followed Tyson around, where they did their initial drills. Tyson went to the other side of the glass, reading a poster another fan had, offering a choice of candy, probably for a puck. He skated back to the bench with something and tossed it to the equipment manager before grabbing a puck and starting his own stickhandling drill.

Not even paying attention, he drilled the puck into the boards directly under AJ’s feet and caught the rebound on his stick. Looking up, he saw a small poster, and then looked up even further to see who was holding it. The smile on his face couldn’t be contained as he skated closer, mouthing “Hey you!” as AJ gave a tiny wave. Leaning down, he got a puck on his stick and sent it over the glass to the kid directly next to her, fist bumping him through the glass. The butterflies in Tyson’s stomach from earlier now made sense.

The guy who previously looked at AJ weird for saying Jost was her favorite tapped her on the shoulder.

“What was that?”

“We’ve known each other since he played for Colorado. Thought I’d surprise him at the game.” AJ chuckled.

With warmups complete, and in fact, Buffalo stayed on the ice longer than the warmup clock lasted just to get under the skin of the Stars, AJ found her seat behind the Sabres’ bench. Luckily it was filled with other Sabres fans and she made some new friends that night. The game started off not so great with the Stars scoring within the first two minutes, but the Sabres fired back later in the first. The game went silent in the 2nd, but in the third period, the Sabres scored early to have a 2-1 lead. Later in the period, the Stars tied it up. Throughout the game, Tyson glanced back finding AJ cheering for the team in white and blue.

The Sabres held on to take it to OT.

“I’m standing up,” Dan, AJ’s new friend sitting next to her, stated. “With our top lines out there 3-on-3, this isn’t going to last long. We’re standing up.”

Everyone stood up behind the bench, which pissed off the row behind them, but it was well worth it. Power scored fifty-six seconds into the overtime period, giving the Sabres the win. The Sabres fans cheered, while the Stars fans were left sulking as they walked the stairs to the concourse of the arena. The team piled into the dressing room, and headed for the airport as they were to play St. Louis the next day.

Tyson: EGGO you’re crazy for flying out here! I love you for it though, made my night.

AJ: Crazy about YOU! Fun game. Wish I were flying with you tonight.

Tyson: Me too. When do you fly out?

AJ had to word this very carefully.

AJ: My flight is at 11:15. Figured I could at least score some breakfast before I leave (lol emoji)

Tyson: Text me when you land? We’re taking off.

AJ: You know it babe. Safe travels, love you!

AJ was asleep when the next text hit her phone, of Tyson landing in St. Louis. He was glad she seemingly slept through it. As much as he still loved getting to say “text you when I land” and then doing so, he always felt a little pang of guilt if she’d text back at 3am wherever she was in comparison. At the same time he did enjoy some of her sleepy text typos, and imagining her bleary-eyed in bed texting him back.

What did wake AJ up was her alarm so she would make it downstairs to, yes, get breakfast, pack up, and take the train back to DFW. Not thinking fully about the weather when she packed, as soon as she took a few steps onto the sidewalk of Harry Hines Blvd, it started raining, and she did not pack her umbrella. Walking under overhangs as much as she could, which was tough around the arena because there aren’t any, AJ was becoming more and more soggy as she reached the train stop. Thankfully she made it just in time for the Orange line back, and sat back as it poured down rain the whole way to the airport. Once through security, she sat next to a window with a mint hot chocolate from Dunkin watching the rain.

A quick text was sent as she boarded the plane, and was finally in the air. A bit later, she was on the ground again. AJ’s Lyft driver was awesome, the two chatted the whole way from the airport to her destination. However, that text she said she’d send was a little delayed.

AJ: Hey, on the ground. How was your flight?

Tyson: It was alright, got in around 1am like you saw. Yours?

AJ: Not bad. Hoped I’d get some sleep but didn’t. Oh damn it’s almost time for you to get ready to play, isn’t it? Kick some ass tonight, Jost. (heart emoji)

Tyson: Only because you said so. Going to miss you in the stands, last night spoiled me.

AJ: You’ll see me soon enough. I’ll be watching the game, cheering you on!

Tyson stared at the last message, getting that odd feeling he had in Dallas again.

“Surely she isn’t here… no… she went back home, right?”

A few of the guys in the dressing room noticed how antsy Tyson was to get out onto the ice for warmups. Kyle was giving him shit for the fact AJ was in Dallas to surprise him the night before, and how he was acting like his kids do when they are excited to be going out for ice cream. The feeling in Tyson’s stomach wasn’t subsiding. He was fidgeting with the tape on his stick waiting for the moment they could take the ice.

Keeping his normal focus was difficult as warmups began, and he started scanning the glass. There were a number of fans, both for the Sabres and Blues already lined up. With a deep breath he went back to doing drills, trying to push the butterflies down. Okie skated up along the boards and stopped, looking back and winking at the person behind him.

As the team drills wound down, Tyson went back toward the center line doing some stretches, when someone caught his eye. Squinting, suddenly his eyes went wide as he continued warming up his legs. Hopping up, he grabbed a puck to do his drills between the blue line and the faceoff circle.

Finishing up, he attempted to get the puck to hop onto his stick blade, but he missed not once, but twice. Looking up, his face was a little flushed as he smiled at AJ, still fumbling around. Reaching down, trying to just simply pick up the puck with his gloves, Tyson still was struggling. Finally with the puck in his hands, and his face now full on blushing, he got the puck over to the kids slapping the glass next to her. With a look back and wink at AJ, he felt like the luckiest man on Earth that his fiancee was at the game again, even if she weren’t behind the bench this time around.

There were definitely less Sabres fans at this game in St. Louis than in Dallas, but AJ made the best of it with her #LETSGOBUFFALO sign as she sat behind the Sabres Attack Twice goal. What made it even better was the 5-3 win over the Blues… especially with AJ’s history with games in St. Louis.

What made the night less stellar was that St. Louis was under a winter storm warning until noon the next day, and AJ’s flight was leaving the next morning at 5:40AM, with her Lyft coming at 3:10AM. She was terrified of one of three things happening:

She was going to oversleep, the original plan was actually to stay awake until her ride arrived.

Her ride was going to cancel and she would have no way to get to the airport on time.

The airport was going to shut down due to the weather.

Thankfully none of these happened, and she did in fact make it to the airport in time. After getting through security (being harassed by a rather rude TSA agent that thought she had something on her ankle, which, surprise, there was nothing but her ankle there), she made her way to Starbucks to snag a drink and prepare for the first of two flights. The snow was really starting to come down though and made her worried.

Just like Tyson’s gut was telling him something the previous few days, her’s was now talking to her.

Tyson and the team had flown out of St. Louis after the game thankfully, and he was safe on the ground in Winnipeg.

Knowing he was asleep, AJ just sent a quick note that she was at the airport, indeed going back to Buffalo, as much as she wanted to continue the roadie with him. She was nervous about the weather, hoping to make her connection as she was already delayed 40 minutes. The plus side, the flight wasn’t full and she ended up getting her own row on that flight.

On the ground in Dallas again, she was stressing hardcore about the connection, it was in a completely different terminal. But the flight deities smiled upon AJ that day and somehow getting out of the jetway and down the hallway, she found herself in Terminal B, right near her gate that had not yet started boarding.

AJ: Made my connection, heading home to Buffalo. (heart emoji)

Tyson looked sleepily at his phone screen with one eye, then put it back on the nightstand next to him. A warm feeling filled his chest upon seeing AJ call Buffalo “home.”

#Tyson Jost #Josty #Play It Cool #Tyson Jost x OFC #TysonTuesday #Buffalo Sabres #Colorado Avalanche

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