#glory to da most high | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

riddledeep · 26 days ago

Text

Cosmo's Full Character Profile

🧀 A fairy godparent so charming, you can't help but give a second chance

🌽 Forgotten author of Astrophysics For Morons... and a wide range of children's books people want his head for.

🧀 On the verge of a total breakdown 24/7, but you didn't hear that from me

🌽 Warrior husband of Wanda Fairywinkle, father of Poof and Dusty, and Juandissimo's sleep paralysis demon

🧀 Future Keeper of Da Rules? ... Only time will tell

Notable Riddleverse ‘fic spoilers. Your mileage may vary.

OVERVIEW

Full Name: Cosmo Julius Fairywinkle-Cosma

Title(s): The Accursed One / [REDACTED: See also, Devil’s Backbone] Preferred Form of Address: Cosmo Alternate Forms of Address: Cosmo-lo-lo / Fairy-Cosmo / Cosmo Prime / Dad / Drk. Cosma / [REDACTED: See also, Devil’s Backbone] Fairywinkle-Cosma is the surname on his license ("Turning Into Turner") and is therefore his legal name. It's equally correct to refer to him as Cosmo Cosma, as that's usually how he introduces himself. Aspiration: Keep his family happy... whatever the costs

Born: Spring of the Black Lake

Zodiac: Water Birthday: 1st Thursday of April || April 4th Hometown: Emper - Small Fairy World town famous for its disconnected scattering of clouds and occasional pirate raids Came Into Adult Wings: 159,223 (Average) Age During Frozen Timestream: 381,444 (Mentally 34) Age As of “Live For the Moment”: 528,875 (Mentally 47) Age As of Devil’s Backbone: 544,704 (Mentally 48)

Race: Fae (Seelie Court)

Species: Fairy Ethnicity: ¾ common fairy (Faedivus fae), ¼ brownie (Faedivus mundus) Nationality: Ildáthachian (Obtained at birth) Patron Insect: Pantala flavescens (Globe skimmer dragonfly)

Mindset: Kabouter

As a kabouter, Cosmo is less prone to expressing insect behaviors than gynes and drones.

Cosmo has been exposed to so much forget-a-cin since the end of the war (Mostly self-inflicted) to the point that his mind is very scrambled beyond what it was before. Random bits of knowledge leak through, but his poor memory affects him physically and emotionally.

He's fought depression for most of his life, often in parallel to Anti-Cosmo's mania. Postpartum depression hit hard.

Counterparts: Cosmo > Dame Cosmo > Anti-Cosmo

Core: Storage space - Easily overlooked, doesn't attract high expectations, but incredibly versatile (and lifechanging, too) Core Color: Green (No additional layers) Core Trait: Keep an open mind and strive to make choices that lead to happiness, even if it’s not what others say is best for him Anti-Fairy: Jittery genius with occasional idiot flashes Fairy Refract: Flighty kleptomaniac with incredible street smarts

Stats:

Power: Above Average Endurance: Average Wisdom: Below Average Adaptability: Above Average Charisma: Average Openness: Above Average Conscientiousness: Average Neuroticism: Average

Crown Lift: ~7 cm Breathing Lines: Rope twist braid Karmic Weave: Frayed | Sparse | Plain | Average | Thick | Elaborate | Royal | At Equilibrium || Manifests as a long-sleeved dress (About knee-length) Fagiggly Color: Green Preferred Shapeshifting Form: Goldfish Signature Tactic: Heeler - Has a knack for calculating his opponents’ weak points... Whether he successfully hits them is another story.

Wand Type: Threedspiral

A cheaper variety of wand, perfect for someone who regularly breaks or misplaces his.

Family: Low status and regularly in trouble with the law

Creed: Foirfe salì dor chea - “Never put your head down.” Caretaker Spirit: His Glory Pérez (The generous rat)

Permanent Residence: 1 Wanda Street, Faeheim - Fairy World

- Central Star (Purple) - Lives with his godkids while on the job

Occupation: Licensed godparent to members of the human and Delkian races; in training as temporary Keeper of Da Rules; [REDACTED: See also, Devil’s Backbone]

Previous Employment: Magic key; children's book author; science book author; waiter at a small diner

BACKGROUND

Self-Perception: Not that bright and tries to avoid being held responsible for his actions, but a guy who’s sweet, caring, and loyal at his core.

Alignment: Neutral Good MBTI: INFJ Deadly Sin: Gluttony and Wrath Heavenly Virtue: Forgiveness Love Language: Acts of service Reinforcers: Hyggekrog evenings, praise, attention from Wanda, his mother's love, his sons telling him he's a good dad

Personality: Cosmo has a very creative mind and always wants to find the upside to every situation... He isn't always in the mood to try, but he loves fun and loves when others have fun along with him.

As a kid, Cosmo had an open mind, a big imagination, and a lot of love to give. He adored his older brother even though Schnozmo found him a little tiresome and annoying. Nonetheless, the brothers got along in their early years.

Cosmo was a clingy mama's boy turned clingy husband- He loves Wanda and isn't afraid to say so. He loves Wanda and doesn't feel even a little guilty that she dumped Juandissimo for him, leaving her long-time ex-boyfriend - Technically her fiancé at the time - confused and brokenhearted. He loves Wanda and didn't care what that might do to Anti-Cosmo or Anti-Wanda... He loves Wanda. Everyone else just has to deal with it.

Cosmo is a caring father who tries to focus on emotional care, not just physical security. He takes time to speak to his godkids and his sons, asking how they're doing and trying to set them up for healthy solutions and social success. He's a little overconfident at times, offering help for things he doesn't know the answers to. He enjoys feeling helpful and takes great pride in fatherhood and caretaking- He loves his kids very much.

As a godparent, Cosmo tries to keep kids engaged and show them that every day can be fun if you make time to play and goof around. This can certainly get out of hand - See also, the Not Study Game - but Cosmo wants nothing more than to make people laugh...

... If only he felt like he understood the difference between joking around and crossing a line.

Education: Mostly homeschooled during Spellementary and middle school, except for when he wasn't. He participated in a few on-campus activities, including school plays, but mostly kept near Mama Cosma.

High School: Attended Carl Poofypants High for his last 10 years; homeschooled prior that Further Education: Fairy Academy - Godparenting

Favorite Magic Subject: Intro to Gravity Manipulation

Least Favorite Magic Subject: Special Cases of Da Rules

Favorite Non-Magic Subject: Applications of Quantum Mechanics

Least Favorite Non-Magic Subject: Physical Education - It may seem like physics, but it isn't as fun as it sounds

History: Cosmo entered the Cosma family at a difficult time. His father’s addiction to gambling and unfortunate early death left them deep in debt to Big Daddy Fairywinkle, his restless brother Robin was starting to get into trouble, and his mother fought every day to hold them together as a happy family.

Cosmo was born with a mutation that left his magic unstable, and actually leaves him unable to channel magic at all if he doesn’t regularly drink the hormones present in Fairy nursing milk. He keeps a baby bottle-shaped thermos on hand at almost all times just in case he needs a recharge. Though not the first to show the mutation, he quickly became the most recognized when he caused chaos and destruction throughout Fairy World as a child.

Cosmo has been in and out of trouble with the Fairy Council his entire life. After accidentally killing hundreds during his Terrible Twos and prompting the No Fairy Babies mandate, he was just as infamous as a child in Fairy World as Poof is adored. Which means the Fairy Council had (and still has) very few qualms about using him as a pawn when Anti-Cosmo arrived on their doorstep to beg the mandate be lifted so he may father an heir. But, that was a long time ago, and he’d rather you didn’t make him revisit those memories...

Growing up, Cosmo liked to play outside, but was always under his mother's eye. Even so, he learned to skateboard, played with neighborhood kids, and did okay in school. He begged to get a job and saved his own money to get a car, which he named Darla (and whom he cares deeply about).

Prompt #70 - "Repeat" - opens with teen Poof begging to drive Darla to sports practice and Cosmo hesitant to let him go.

Cosmo was an avid reader in his younger years before Fairy World’s (and his mother’s) extreme preference for brawn over brains made him feel stupider and stupider until finally he gave the hobby up... as far as you know. His lack of physical strength got him bullied frequently as a child, so his mother pushed him to train at the Fairy Academy.

He’s never been the brightest, but because he’s always been fascinated with stars, politics, and energy sources, he can tell you a lot about all three (in his meandering Cosmo-ish way). He met Wanda during their adolescence, sold Darla to pay for her medical bills after accidentally running her over, and has been smitten with his sweet little wildflower ever since. And as luck would have it, Darla ended up in his hands once again.

Of course, even Cosmo has his secrets. Though extremely self-conscious any time he’s caught reading (even by Wanda), he still spends his free time writing. He’s published multiple books about complicated aspects of the magical world (such as gravity manipulation, fairy biology, and the Big Wand) translated into layman’s terms, in addition to several children’s books. Picture books for kids are his personal favorite.

He’s dabbled in political criticism and has played a more influential role in that field than he wants to believe. Since hints of his political alignments are sprinkled across his works, many are shunned from schools. His picture book How the Honeybees Say Goodnight is completely banned almost everywhere in Fairy World, while Pixies and Anti-Fairies adore it.

Cosmo sees his books as innocent and finds Fairies’ reactions very confusing (they only contribute to the negative way he sees himself and his mind). He struggles with more self-deprecating thoughts than he likes to let on.

All good things must come to an end, especially when Cosmo is involved. When revolts broke out in Fairy World (after the War of the Angels) and stuck-up, eggheaded, pro-Anti-Fairy know-it-alls were under fire, Cosmo panicked. He immediately destroyed most of his writing and changed his focus in school from Astrophysics to Godparenting.

He’s been cowering on the outskirts of Fairy World in self-inflicted exile ever since, lying low in Wanda’s shadow and maybe, maybe playing a little dumber than he really is. Just a little, of course. I wouldn’t suggest asking him about those books… or too much else about his past. Who are Westley and Nixie? ... No one you need to know, I'm sure.

See also, Prompt #121 - "Told You So" and #70 - "Repeat"

While his past was wrought with fear, self-loathing, and bouts of depression, Cosmo is actually doing well for himself nowadays, for the most part. Always an introvert, he loves to study and write about the stars and spend time with his wife. He actually knows a lot about politics, electricity, outer space, and the ins and outs of wands and magic. Most godkids just don’t ask.

Notable Likes:

- Wanda & his boys - His mama - Making games - Dressing up - Being liked and accepted - Having a place to call home - Cool skateboard tricks - Astrophysics - Dad's poetry - Personifying animals and objects for play - Visits with Westley - Letters from Nixie... if he had one!

Goals:

- Be loved - Make godkids happy - Accept and cherish his wife and sons no matter what - Stand up for himself and refuse to let Anti-Cosmo bully him around with politics - Study the properties of the Big Wand in greater detail - Write more books - Support Westley all he can - Make things right with Nixie

Beliefs:

- Holds no spiritual beliefs - Dad’s death is his fault - Blames himself for all the problems he’s directly or indirectly caused (in politics and Fairy World) - Wanda keeps him on track (and is the best thing to ever happen to him) - You can hide from all your problems if you act dumb enough

Fears:

- Rejection and abandonment - Forced separation from Wanda - Being unforgiven - The thought of his boys seeing him as incapable of caring for them, physically or emotionally - Interplanetary cheese shortage

Upsets:

- ... I can't remember. Neither can he. - Being lied to - Feeling ignored - Not being trusted with caretaking responsibilities - Jorgen prying things away from him - Anti-Cosmo... Just in general

Comforts:

- Darla (His car) - Philip (His nickel) - Talking to godkids about their deepest thoughts - Cookies like Mama makes - Toys that remind him of the happy parts of his childhood - Feeding his babies or rocking them to sleep - Housework, especially in the garden (or anywhere he can try cute outfits while he cleans) - Knowing Wanda's always there, helping with paperwork and supporting him at his worst

Indulgences:

- Fancy dinners with Wanda - Roleplaying with godkids - Playing dress-up - Candles - Art supplies - Connect the dots puzzles (and mazes) - Hot chocolate - Candy and soda (Especially the sugary and salty stuff) - Writing time - Coin collecting

EXTERNAL

Verbal Notes: Long, run-on sentences. Cheerful in public but passive-aggressively savage to people he doesn’t like. Often obsessed with being “the fun one” since that’s what seems to win him love. Not one to swear, or to sit quietly while others swear with in his earshot.

Language: Speaks Snobbish fluently; knows some Lialia as well as a few words of Elrulian.

Physical Notes: His stomach acid can dissolve metal and his saliva can disable magic locks. His nose is disguised with magic; he actually has a long nose like his brother ("The Boy Who Would Be Queen").

Cosmo has wider hips than Wanda does. Post "Fairly Odd Baby," he has noticeable stretch marks around his pouch and abdomen.

Handedness: Right dominant Body Language: Has an aura of being both a supervisor and ready to play, more like a daycare employee than a full-time parent. Lots of widespread arms or hands propped on hips. Hands-on-hips is his go-to, though he sometimes crosses his arms when frustrated. Hair: Natural green, usually in two large scruffs. It was a single scruff in his youth and slowly morphs to three as he ages. As with Anti-Cosmo, I draw Cosmo with a 'C' tuft in the back of his hair. However, Anti-Cosmo's usually remains in the C direction while Cosmo's follows the position of his head. Teeth: If you looked at them closely, you'd be able to tell his are sharper than a human's and designed for eating meat. His are tough enough to resist his acidic saliva Wings: Common fairy wings mirror the globe skimmer dragonfly, granting their subspecies the unique ability to fly backwards. In line with common fairy marital tradition, Cosmo has three subtle commitment notches in his wings, mirroring the three punctures in each of Anti-Cosmo's wings. Make-Up Products: Pancake face and blush ("Nega-Timmy"). Scars: Small, random ones from a few injuries, especially during the war. Has a subtle turtle mark on his neck that reflects a magical symbol Anti-Cosmo has (from being the mortal host of the Water spirit, Sunnie). For the same reason, you can faintly see the mark of the Water year branded into the underside of his left wrist. Cosmo has a very blatant star-shaped scar over his midsection from his fagiggly gland transplant ("The Gland Plan"). Tattoos: Several colorful stars on his right hip, representing his kids.

Style: Dresses nice, blending his own desire to "do something right" and Mama Cosma's desire to see her boy looking nice. Cosmo could poof his buttons up with magic, but he likes the effort of getting out of bed and doing it by hand. When he's done, he's ready to eat food, which keeps him from lying in bed too long.

Overall, he leans towards cleanliness and things that take a little thought to put on, like dresses with corsets and ties. It's nice to feel accomplished and enjoy showing off! Tries to avoid skirts on the job due to hovering above godchildren.

Regular Clothing: White button-up shirts, black slacks, black tie Casual Clothing: Checkered button-up shirts, tank tops, or hoodies- Rarely T-shirts Nightwear: Striped top-and-bottoms with button-up shirts and a matching nightcap Other: Favors trunks for swimwear. Likes socks. Has his name written on most of his underwear (which he only sometimes wears - "Double-Oh Schnozmo").

Height: 3′6″ (Average for a fae)

Hygiene: Pretty good; Cosmo keeps his face clean for easy make-up application and does a decent job washing up. He keeps his teeth clean, not wanting to disappoint the Tooth Fairy.

Morning Schedule: Wake up before godkids if possible (For breakfast), but breakfast can be eaten throughout the day as needed. Be attentive- Ready to play and make suggestions!

Cosmo is usually awake earlier in the morning and later in the evening than Wanda, so she likes her blindfold. Cosmo often gets Poof and Dusty ready for the day (Or did when they lived at home).

Typical Day Schedule: Hang out with his godkid and try to make every day a unique, fun adventure!

On occasion, Cosmo visits his mama, but he tries to do so early in the day (Sometimes while godkids are at school). Mama Cosma blatantly tries to keep him late to throw off his intimate time with Wanda, which Cosmo is oblivious to.

Evening Schedule: Hang around godkid until curfew, then start to unwind. He and Wanda usually eat dinner when their godkids are still awake, but a late meal is sometimes necessary.

Wanda often gets some godparenting paperwork done while Cosmo relaxes with his books or coloring stuff (Plus a candle, cozy pajamas, and a hot chocolate). They often snuggle, but usually sleep in separate beds.

Being members of the common fairy subspecies, Cosmo and Wanda come into heat for 18 months every 500 years. They're more flirty and sexual during that time, but more cuddly and less sexual when outside their heat. -> See the Fairy Architecture post for info on the yidreamu- A special room in a Fairy house for mating, which is a big deal in Fairy culture (Given the long history of damsels dying afterwards)

Sleep Schedule: Light, restless sleeper, but usually sleeps pretty well despite that. Moves around and kicks a lot, so he and Wanda benefit from separate beds.

PERSONAL

Cosmo’s Family Tree: HERE

Relationship Status:

- Committed to Wanda as of the Winter of the Muddy Topsoil - Wedding Anniversary: The second Sunday of March each year

Ideal Relationship: Cosmo has a lot of self-doubt (and self-hatred) and wants someone in life who can support him without completely babying him (which pairs well with Wanda's love for taking charge). He enjoys Wanda as a steady, comforting presence in his life very much.

Sexuality: Romantically and sexually attracted to Fairies, especially those who play into overly feminine stereotypes for Fairy culture.

Attractiveness: Has extreme magical strength, which is very attractive in Fairy culture... and may play into why he was picked on throughout high school. Generally, Fairies see Cosmo as attractive, but "without the good sense to know how to use it."

He was very shunned by Fairies for writing books that went against traditional Fairy beliefs (such as proclaiming that stars are balls of gas rather than Fairies with wands) or for publishing political commentaries and pro-Anti-Fairy children's literature. The attractiveness definitely took a hit from that.

His disorganized set-up and frequent struggles with paperwork don't reflect well on him in Pixie culture. In Anti-Fairy culture, Cosmo's writing may attract attention, but his struggle to hold a stimulating conversation can cause interest to wane.

In general, Cosmo holds an air of mystery, distinction, and a sense of falling from grace. Some speculate a curse was put on him to take away his success (and brains). Others believe he fell from grace in the public eye, but his personality never changed. Still others believe the pressures of being turned on by society completely broke him, causing him to snap and change his life course.

Intimate History: Wanda is the only person he ever dated. Considers his first sexual experience to be with her, not long after the War of the Angels ended.

... Wait. Is that right?

According to rumor, he once had a fling with [REDACTED], but don’t try talking to him about it... You probably won't get answers and will send him into a mental breakdown.

- See also, the "Sentry" arc, the Frayed Knots chapter "The Delicate Art of Fudging Truth," and/or Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Pixies - First one has the mildest rating. Proceed with caution on the others.

Turn-Ons: Nice candles, cuddles, and playful teasing... Plenty of time for slow kisses and running his fingers in Wanda's hair. He tries not to pull it down since he really likes the way Wanda wears it up.

Cosmo and Wanda have a special game they play when they're in animal disguises, in which they really get into the roleplay and refer to one another by special animal terms. Timmy jumps any time he hears Cosmo refer to Wanda by the name for female dog.

During Cosmo's two pregnancies, they also flirted by bringing in words for baby animals like "Puppy," "Kitten," and silly ones they made up for inanimate objects. They flirt sometimes in animal form, and sometimes they don't flirt so much as groom each other and snuggle up.

Cosmo enjoys living every day of his life with Wanda and wouldn't do well in a long-distance relationship... That's for sure.

Father: Robin Tiberius Cosma Sr.

Grandfather: Gonzo Cosma Grandmother: Starling Cosma (née Lilytail) Uncle: Hawk Cosma Notable Ancestors: Ky Braddocki (The first brownie)

Mother: Florensa Eleanor Cosma (née Lunifly)

Grandfather: Jasper Lunifly Grandmother: Miranda Twigfall Uncles: Harold Lunifly, Winston Everwish Cousin: Estella Coldwater (née Lunifly) Aunts: Potter Lunifly (née Whistlewings), Joanie Everwish (née Lunifly) Cousin: Poof Everwish Notable Ancestors: Distantly related to the von Strangle family

Brother: Robin "Schnozmo" Augustus Cosma Jr.

Sister-In-Law: Ingrid Wandflick Niece: Snowball Cosma

Wife: Wanda Venus Fairywinkle

Met: Vaguely saw her around in his youth, but really got to know her after hitting her with his car ("Cosmonopoly") Sons: Poof Cosma, Dusty Cosma Sister-In-Law: Blonda Fairywinkle - It's worth noting that Cosmo and Wanda occasionally looked after Westley Periwinkle while he was growing up (Mostly when Blonda dumped him on them)

Celebrity Crushes: The Tooth Fairy; Blonda Fairywinkle

Blonda supported Cosmo a lot during a difficult time of his life. See also, Prompt #70 - "Repeat"

Current Love Interest: Wanda (Always and forever)

Other Important Relationships:

Juandissimo - Cosmo terrifies the man... They both know where they stand with each other, and Juandissimo keeps a mostly respectful distance away. Despite their mutual interest in Wanda, Cosmo doesn't mind Juandissimo as a person and considers him a peripheral friend; he even allowed him at his baby shower.

Anti-Cosmo - Needy, greedy, and always in the way. They're on very bad terms. Let's not talk about it anymore.

Anti-Wanda - Cosmo doesn't mind her presence, though there's no question Wanda Prime is a better match for him romantically. They don't frequently cross paths, but seem to be on significantly better terms than he is with Anti-Cosmo.

Foop & Smoky - Cosmo holds no clear ill will towards his counterpart's children. He considers them his nephews and lets them call him uncle, even tolerating Foop's use of "Uncle Idiot." He's babysat the boys a few times and does a surprisingly good job at mitigating their damage... I guess Mama Cosma rubbed off on him!

Jorgen - The focal point of many tough things in Cosmo's life, but they're distant cousins... And Jorgen's only rough because he cares. Right?

Emery - Head of the human godparenting division; Cosmo's boss. He gets along with her well enough, seemingly oblivious to Emery's blatant favoritism of him over Wanda (given that Emery is H.P.'s sister and their family has never gotten along well with the Fairywinkles).

Cupid - Not an easy guy to get along with, but his heart is usually in the right place. Cosmo admires him, but isn't his biggest fan. "Instantly exhausted by each other, but trying to push through the conversation politely anyway" is probably the best description of their relationship.

Timmy - Cosmo's long-term godkid who's both a hard worker and a lover of fun! They get along great.

Chloe - Cosmo admires her for being herself and indulging in "childish interests" like little kid shows and toys. He connects with her really well and often talks her through her feelings, especially when her anxiety kicks up.

Crŏ̸̧̝̓̓̉͝͝ckę̶̜̯̊͌̀̀͛̓r - ... Confusing. The one that got away.....

Sanderson - While they aren't close, Cosmo crossed paths with Sanderson a few times throughout his high school visits to Pixie World's laundromat. They vaguely know each other, though Sanderson's more familiar with Anti-Cosmo.

W̸̢̮̖̹̫͉̱̄̽̕ę̶̜̯̊͌̀̀͛̓s̸̛̠̺̼̬̘͊̓͌͌̔̿̕͝͝t̴̢̻̹̰͍̫̫͕̄̿ͅl̷̨̩̘͍̩͑̀̆̈́̿ẻ̶̹̲͙̬̻̋̈́͒͗̿̋̚ÿ̴̧̛̰́̄͗̀ - They're not close, but Cosmo's always hoping for his success. He and Wanda looked after Westley a couple times in his youth.

S̸̗͓͑̔̓̾̑̈ḁ̴̢̦͋͗̐̈f̸̧̧̙̝̠̥̻̯̏̾͑͊f̶̢̫̈́̒̈́͝r̴̯̠̞͈̆͜ŏ̸̧̝̓̓̉͝͝n̸͉͓͓͇͇͚̒̈́̐ - ... I don't remember much...... Didn't Cosmo try to take custody of her kid or something?

N̶̖͚͎̰͖̙̏͒͘i̷̮͛̌ͅx̶̱̥̑̈́͒̅͐̚͜ḭ̴͚̓̾̊̀͛̔͋e̷͔̦̿- ... Maybe we don't talk about that one.

TRIVIA

- Cosmo’s middle name was revealed to be Julius in the printed comic “Baby Factory” (March 2007) and confirmed again in “77 Secrets of ‘The Fairly OddParents’ (Revealed)” - Fought the Anti-Fairies in the war over godkids ("Balance of Flour"). - Can’t use magic if he hasn’t been drinking his milk. - His signature was designed to look like it starts with K, as Cosmo often thinks his name does. - I color his skin a little darker than Wanda's; it comes from his dad's side of the family. - Has a Zappy award ("The Zappys"). - He’s allergic to potato skins (“Dust Busters”), peaches (“A Sash and a Rash”), and peanuts (“Squirrely Puffs”), but not cashews (“Clark Laser”). - Preferred non-magical weapon is a slingshot ("Love Struck"). Coincidentally, this is also Anti-Cosmo's and Foop's weapon of choice ("Fairly Odd Baby" & "When L.O.S.E.R.S. Attack") - He can also use a sword (and use his wand as a sword; "Best of Luck"). - He's a talented kazoo player ("77 Secrets of 'The Fairly OddParents' (Revealed)"). - His go-to password is Philip ("77 Secrets"). - According to "77 Secrets," his and Wanda's address while living with Timmy was 123 Fishbowl Lane, Timmy's Room, USA. -> Given Hazel's apartment number being 3 ("Fly"), he and Wanda likely live in apartment 2 or 4 (in City Lights AU). - The list of books he's authored includes Astrophysics For Morons, Shiny Crowny Things For Morons, Conversations with Butch, and "Little Wands For Little People" ("77 Secrets"). - Extremely fascinated by fish; he finds that he gets really, really excited around them, completely unaware that this “excitement” is actually his dragonfly DNA having a heart attack. - Likes elephants, even having an elephant-shaped bed when he was growing up ("Fairly Odd Baby"). Anti-Cosmo hates them. - Leaves one of his childhood toys with every godkid (Rehoming all the stuff Mama Cosma spoiled him with). - Likes reading his late dad's poetry books. - Not great with painting his nails, so Wanda often does that for him. - A decent cook, but excels in mixology. He can make the best hot chocolate you've ever had. - Suspiciously good at picking locks. - Constantly fighting postpartum depression. - Wanda did most of Poof's and Dusty's nursing, but Cosmo loved bottle-feeding his sons. On rare occasion, they nursed on liquid magic from his stomach pouch (though Wanda has a pouch for that too and was usually the one to do so, leaving Cosmo to rest after giving birth). - Though Timmy and Chloe lost their memories, he and Wanda check up on them the one day each year they're allowed to: every Midsummer's Eve (June 23rd, give or take). They keep tabs on a couple other godkids too, but Timmy isn't easy to forget. - His love life is forever managed by politics, but we don’t have to talk about that.

APPEARANCES

Main Blog Tag: #Dragonfly parents

Sideblog Tag: #RD Cosmo

AO3 Tag - #Cosmo Cosma

Cosmo's arc in the 130 Prompts can be found in the Pink Train series on AO3. He appears in several multi-chapters such as Frayed Knots and Devil's Backbone, along with shorter stories like "See That Dust Fly" and "Bells on Bats' Tails."

Cosmo is one of the main protagonists of Devil's Backbone, alongside Blackwood and Anti-Poof. He's also a notable character in Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Pixies, acting opposite Poof, but not necessarily as an antagonist.

Sideblog Masterpost

#Fairly OddParents #FOP Cosmo #RD Cosmo #RD Fairy stuff #Cloudlands AU #RD profiles #RD canon characters #RD character ref

9 notes · View notes

gizkasparadise · 10 months ago

Note

What is the worst, most technically inept drama that you secretly love? Tell us of the best badgood drama, the clunkiest dialogue, the most inexplicable casting, the hideously costumed yet most fun dramas, please.

🫥Anonymously yours🫥,

💜Purplehanfu😈💜🍇👾

dear complete stranger (<3),

man i love badgood dramas so much!!! i chose ones that are flatout objectively not good, but i was glued for them all. here's a few that are jumping out

triad princess (taiwan). it ends on a cliffhanger that will never be continued, the relationship building is non-existent, jasper liu basically plays himself yet still acts like he's doing a community service project, but omg it's cute and hit all the right notes for me. fave bonus is that one of the gangster henchmen falls in love with the FL's best friend, a shy boy who works at a mart and makes youtube covers

hold on, my lady (chinese). a bandit is offered a choice when she's caught during a heist: be executed or marry this aloof but beautiful but delicate son of the general. she chooses the latter, and hijinks ensue. made on a budget of pocket lint and just wacky, im going to rewatch this today, actually. fave bonus moment: the FL falls dramatically down and the ML breaks both his arms instantly when he tries to catch her

thumping spike & thumping spike 2 (korean). the two are barely related, but both deal with a competitive men's volleyball team! thumping spike 1 is about a washed up competitive female player going to coach a high school team to glory (just dont...think too critically about the age difference, there) and the second is COLLEGE EDITION with a love quadrangle between two identical twins, one of whom is a cheerleader for the team, the ace volleyball player who's too cool for school, and the WILDCARD volleyball player who gets mad when people call him gorilla. the second one is definitely worse than the first one, but neither are bringing home awards. i still watched them both in one sitting.

my heart twinkle twinkle (korean). this show is actually insane and a parade of toxic that i can never, in good conscience, ever rec to anyone. but gd did i watch the whole fucking thing. look at this fucking poster. this fucking poster looks like it was doused by a fake snow machine.

premise: Noble But Poor family has 3 daughters: the eldest, who is the caretaker; the middle who is Aloof and Ambitious; and the youngest who is A Fucking Menace. they are lead by their single father, who owns a fried chicken store

Rich but Dysfunctional family also has 3 children: the eldest, who is the only son and a fucking piece of work, the middle who is school colleagues with the other family's middle daughter and a hot mess who loves Da Club, and the youngest, who is clingy and gets into a ton of fights with the other family's youngest but is otherwise ok. they run AN EVIL FRIED CHICKEN FRANCHISE that is poisoning people through subpar ingredients!!

there's so much that's so wrong with this, im going to bullet point it from another post i made:

the entire premise is that there’s a fried chicken restaurant rivalry between two families but somehow there’s murder and slush funds and this guy who owns a string of fried chicken franchises named after himself (yeah) has direct access to seoul’s police commissioner at any given moment

one of the main actresses was involved in a scandal a little over halfway through production so they just….vanish her character/entire plotline like it never happened

the main male lead is toxic personified. him and li chengyin from goodbye my princess could co-author a dating strategy/forced-marriage-after-you-kill-your-girlfriend’s-head-of-household book because jesus christ. he literally screams that he hates women and he ends the drama (rightfully!!) in fucking prison

the second female lead disappears/creates a new identity and becomes a chicken chef student of the world. shes later in a love triangle between a single dad chicken shop interior designer and another vanilla guy

that's right, one guy’s job is he’s an architect for chicken restaurant interiors i cant

the main male lead leaves the main female lead’s father to die in a chicken-coop-themed arsony and then cha-cha slides into the son-in-law’s role during the father’s funeral and later MARRIES the female lead

the main male lead tells the female lead’s father’s grave that HE WON AND DAD LOST because the male lead is standing and the father’s in the dirt?!

a friend/almost!love interest of the second female lead dies tragically in a chicken delivery motorcycle chase????

it's the worst drama i've ever seen. i watched all of it.

kakafukaka (japanese)

this one is so gd weird and unappealing it somehow circled back around and became off-puttingly charming to me? so the premise is that there's a 20something year old woman whose life has gone to shit and she ends up in a sharehome with the most sexually dysfunctional bunch of people in the world. one of these is her ex, who tells her that she's the only one he can get a boner with (yeah) and asks her to help him get over his impotence in order to write his novel (yeah). if you read the whole show as kind of an exploration into sex without romance/love, it's as not bad, and there's something weirdly endearing about everyone--i really love the second female lead akari in particular. but it's not a good show, not by a long shot (MDL rating? 6.6), and the ship is dysfunctional at the very best. the ost somehow is great though?

youtube

speaking of trash dramas with great OSTs, love in sadness has some of my favorite songs:

youtube

okay that's enough for now!!!!

#asks!#kdrama #cdrama #jdrama #triad princess #hold on my lady #kakafukaka #my heart twinkle twinkle #thumping spike #long post

30 notes · View notes

whatstruthgottodowithit · 3 months ago

Text

Love In Trouble [Part Five]

Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Musician, RPF

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Original Female Character, Austin Butler x Original Female Character

Characters: Elvis Presley, Original Female Character, Austin Butler, Red West, Sonny West, Jerry Schilling Colonel Tom Parker, Minnie Presley, Vernon Presley, Dee Presley, Joanie Esposito, Joe Esposito, Pat West

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 5041

Summary: Lori Presley lives the high life. She has a lovely home, a elegant wardrobe and her parties are the most sought after ticket in town. Not to mention her husband is the King of Memphis. But what if she no longer wants to be the Queen?

Tags/Warnings: This is a mafia au with detective austin butler entering the chat, Memphis Mafia, Detective Austin Butler, Adultery, Infidelity, Love, Angst, Unhappy Marriage, Murder, Court Room Drama in the loosest possible way, AU, Set in the 70s

Notes: I've had a shit few weeks but we're carrying on and thank god cos our Boys have finally met <3

LINK TO ALL PARTS // LINK TO AO3 // LINK TO PINTEREST

‘Are you ready?’ Austin asked, swapping the receiver of the phone to his other ear so that he didn’t miss her answer.

‘I think so,’ Lori replied quietly

‘It can't be think, Lori. It’s got to be a yes or no,’ he said trying to keep the frustration out of his voice but remain firm. Because it had to be yes or no, preferably yes. Otherwise he'd gone to bat for nothing. He had pissed off his captain and sheriff and made a stink amongst the precinct for nothing. He’d be the new guy swooping in from California and ruining the delicate Memphian ecosystem of bribes and looking the other way. Even the district attorney, who had backed him, had done so on the promise of bringing down the entire operation. He wasn’t bothered about Presley or Tony for that matter. He wanted to be the one to oust key players from the city’s underbelly. For morality or glory Austin didn’t know but it was the reason he kept himself from sounding too agitated. If they were going to bring down anything they needed her. She had even been the one to point out that they had cause to arrest Presley as he was sure to have a ten card from previous, something Austin hadn’t even considered.

‘No, I am,’ she said, her breath a little shaky which didn’t fill him with confidence but he accepted her words nonetheless. It wasn’t as though he had a choice not to. He could hear her shift, hesitance in her breathing that insinuated she was going to ask him something and so he waited for it, ‘do you know when?’

‘Tomorrow,’ he replied, ‘early morning. The DA wants to make sure no news gets out, that they don’t get to alert one another, so we’re hitting every house at once.’

‘How many?’ she asked quietly.

‘Just the names you gave me,’ he said. It had felt odd to have followed her to a chapel of rest but getting a hold of her without someone watching he was fast learning was an art. Even having her on the phone had taken a handful of calls until she and she alone had picked up. Fortunately no one in the Presley enterprise seemed keen to accompany her in staring at a closed casket. There had been no service and no attendees other than him and her which had been fortunate for him even if it had made him feel a little dirty.

‘Right,’ she muttered, ‘are you coming?’

‘Yes.’

‘Like you’ll arrest him?’ she asked

‘Yes it’s my case,’ he replied, his frustration growing at the hitch in her breathing, ‘is that a problem?’

‘No,’ she said quietly though her tone was not reassuring furthering his nerves which prompted him to ask, ‘if you don’t think you can act-’

‘Honey I’ve been acting my entire life,’ she whispered, ‘I’ll be ready.’

✵✵✵

Lori didn’t sleep most of that night. She didn’t do much but potter around her bedroom fretting. In fact she only stopped when she heard the rumble of a car pulling into the driveway signalling that Elvis was home. At that she’d leapt into bed and turned the light off, turning herself to face the wall as she listened to him stumble in and strip off his clothes before he clambered into bed. Fortunately he had fallen asleep quickly, far away on the other side of the bed which meant she wasn’t forced to face him. Instead she spent her night watching him. He looked younger when asleep, more innocent. That was when the uncertainty had crept back in. When Austin had asked her if she was ready she had thought she was but looking at him like that made her doubt herself.

She knew it was selfish. That her only doubts were on her own behalf but she couldn’t help but feel them. Those doubts had been the soundtrack she had fallen asleep to and they were interrupted as she was brought back to the realm of consciousness by a dull thud, the padded door of her bedroom hitting the wall at a pace.

‘Boss! Boss you gotta get up!’ she heard Charlie’s voice call before she came to and when she did he was already pulling clothes out of their closet ready for Elvis who had yet to stir.

‘Elvis,’ she said groggily, a limp hand shaking his shoulder as she tried her best to rouse him, ‘Elvis wake up.’

‘Boss you gotta come quick,’ Charlie said, throwing an outfit on the bed as he too tried to shake her husband awake. He came to the moment Charlie touched him.

‘What is it?’ he asked crankily.

‘Cops,’ Charlie said, ‘they’re askin’ to come in. Say they’ve got a warrant or something.

‘What?’ Lori gasped.

‘What are you talkin’ about?’ Elvis said, forcing himself up in bed quickly and wiping the sleep from his eyes.

‘They want you and they’re not takin’ no for an answer,’ Charlie said, offering the clothing to Elvis who started to dress without care his friend was in the room.

‘What do you mean?’ Lori asked but her question was ignored by both men.

‘Go and tell ‘em I’ll be down in a minute,’ Elvis said, rubbing his tired face as he tried to wrap his head around what was going on. As Charlie nodded and scurried out of sight Lori moved a little closer, keeping her tone as worried as possible as she asked, ‘El what’s happening?’

‘How the fuck do I know?’ Elvis grunted as he slipped on his pants, donning a pale blue shirt over his tanned torso a moment later. At that she fell quiet fearing too much questioning would cause too much scrutiny on her end.

Yet she couldn’t help but watch him. He was clearly disgruntled by the whole thing. His jaw was set and his gorgeous blue eyes though tired burned bright with indignation. A sentiment that was confirmed as they left the bedroom. She could hear people downstairs, worried chatter carrying up from kitchen stairs and the muttering of men in her hallway. But he didn’t turn the corner, he lingered on the landing, almost forcing her to walk into the back of him, before he straightened his shirt and then sauntered down the stairs without a care in the world. Lori followed behind in trepidation.

When they got down there Austin was standing on their front stoop, in amongst a gang of officers who seemed wholly unenthused to be there. In fact the only one who didn’t seem entirely put out was his fellow plain clothed officer who nudged him as he noted Elvis stride into view. Lori kept close behind, smiling weakly as Charlie threw her a reassuring smile and trying to ignore how Elvis’ grandma’s eyes bore into the back of her skull from her chair in the living room as she watched on.

As they got to the front step the chattering amongst the officers grew quiet, all eyes on them as Elvis surveyed the party before he said, ‘someone wanna tell me what the fuck’s goin on?

‘Mr Presley?’ Austin asked, his eyes flitting to Lori behind him for half a second.

‘Yeah,’ Elvis grunted.

‘We’re here to serve a warrant,’ Austin said as he produced a stack of papers from his suit jacket and handed them across where Elvis could snatch them out of his hand. He read quickly, his eyes scanning the pages before they narrowed and he asked, ‘in relation to a murder?’

‘Yes,’ Austin replied.

‘The fuck this have to do with me?’

‘Well that’s what we’d like to ask you about,’ Austin’s partner said.

‘Down at the station,’ Austin added. Lori kept her eyes trained on her husband watching as his jaw clenched in indignation.

‘I already told you I don’t know nuthin’ about that,’ Elvis said.

‘Yeah well we have new evidence that states otherwise,’ Astin said, with a tight smile, ‘so if you’d come with us. These boys can get to serving their warrant.’

‘What evidence?’ Elvis spat.

‘Like I said we can talk about it down at the station,’ Austin replied.

‘Like hell,’ Elvis baulked throwing the warrant so that it hit Austin square in the chest, fluttering to the floor onto white concrete. Austin sighed and stepped forward. He was looking up at Elvis, the step to the portico meaning they were on uneven footing but he was standing tall with a look of warning mirth on his face as he said, ‘that’s not a request so unless you want cuffing you need to come with us.’

Elvis narrowed his eyes. Everyone was watching him which admittedly wasn’t a new phenomenon but he normally didn’t care what those around him saw. Now however he seemed aware that he needed to play this carefully and though his words sounded like a consent there was an air of contempt woven through his demeanour as he turned away and looked to Charlie as he said, ‘get me jacket will ya.’

‘Elvis what do we do?’ Lori asked as he moved inside the hall checking his appearance in the mirror as if he was going out for a leisurely stroll and not being arrested. Austin pulled back and loitered with his partner who was tucking the dropped warrant back in his pocket.

‘Call the colonel,’ Elvis said, quaffing his hair before he took the jacket from Charlie who had now reappeared. He continued as he slipped it on, ‘call daddy and tell ‘em what happened.’

‘Right, okay the colonel,’ Lori said, watching as he walked out onto the front stoop ready to move along. Lori came to stand at the door unsure of how to part from him. A kiss felt too familiar especially in the presence of so many officers and yet not to do so felt off. Everything felt wrong which was no surprise given that her stomach had been doing somersaults since the moment her eyes had snapped open.

‘Tell ‘em not to worry,’ he said, glancing at Austin and a uniformed officer who were striding out ahead of him to a car sitting by the bottom of the steps before leaning in to press a kiss on her cheek. She should’ve known an audience wouldn't deter Elvis Presley from showing especially considering he didn’t sound at all worried as he said, ‘I’ll be home before breakfast. You’ll see.’

And then he was gone. Lori watched as he walked to the car and climbed through the door being held open for him which closed with a squeak and a slam. He was in shadow in the back seat so she couldn’t see him properly but nevertheless she watched as the car drove down the winding drive before embarking onto the street.

When she moved from the door the uniformed officers entered and by the time she’d left the hall they were already going through cabinets and cupboards with no rhyme or reason. Her belongings spilled from drawers onto carpets and tables. Her couch cushions littered the floor around Grandma Dodger. Gladys’ finest China clinked as it was pushed around the cupboard without care. As she wandered through to the kitchen she tried to remind herself she had asked for this. She had tossed the grenade herself and that she couldn’t be reluctant for things to feel a little messy. Messy would prevail in justice for Tony. Punishing Elvis would punish her in return which was what she deserved. Even if she was feeling all out of sorts because of it. In a way she supposed that was better, if she’d been cool and collected Elvis would’ve sniffed her out she was sure of it. At least a nervous mess she was playing the game.

Finally she made it to the kitchen, unhooking the receiver of the phone from the latch as the staff whispered from a huddle in the corner as they tried to stay out of the way of the officers. However she didn’t get very far in dialling before she heard her name called and swivelled around to find the other plainclothes officer, what she suspected to be Austin’s partner watching her intently.

‘Yes?’ she asked, trying to keep her voice even.

‘What's this?’ he asked, gesturing to the TV unit on the kitchen worktop that displayed a picture of the gate.

‘Our security system,’ she said.

‘Is it just on the gate?’ he asked just as Charlie came in looking harried.

‘Yep,’ she said, her throat dry and sticking with now two pairs of eyes on her.

‘And it’s on twenty-four hours a day?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, we don’t shut it off,’ she confirmed.

‘Does it record?’ he asked.

‘Uh, yeah,’ she said, ‘I think so.’

‘Great thanks,’ he said, donning his glasses as he moved to inspect the bulky contraption. Lori turned to restart her phone call, the dial tone now missing given her prolonged absence but as she did she felt a hand on her elbow and a set of lips by the shell of her ear as Charlie whispered, ‘what did you tell him that for?’ before moving past her towards his room.

Lori watched him go, glancing at the detective who was still scrutinising the camera system. It looked as though her acting wasn’t the only thing that was going to need to withstand scrutiny.

✵✵✵

Elvis Presley was not a patient man. He never had been, being an only child and the apple of his mother’s eye hadn’t helped him with his temperament, but notoriety and twenty or so years of bossing everyone around had meant he hadn’t got used to waiting around. He certainly was not used to being given as little information as possible other than being read his rights before he was stuffed into an interview room on his own. Not even his lawyer, a nervous, sweaty man called Hank, arriving had hurried the process up. Which was why he was still sitting in an uncomfortable metal chair, glaring at an older detective as his lawyer flicked through a thin file and tried to ignore the way Elvis’ leg rattled against his as it bounced against the tile floor.

He only broke his gaze as the door unlatched, the blonde detective, the one who’d been stirring the pot since day dot, sauntered in, case file in hand. Elvis watched as he closed the door quietly and unable to stop the irritation from bubbling inside him he found a snarky, ‘by all means take your damn time,’ fall from his lips without warning.

Austin threw him a glance but didn’t respond, electing to remain silent as he dropped into the seat opposite. Because he knew Elvis Presley wasn’t a patient man. No man who had half of Memphis cower to his every want and whim could possibly be patient. He was too well catered to and more importantly too used to everyone bending over backwards to accommodate him, it was why he’d left him in here for the longest time. It was why he’d interviewed all his cronies first. It was why he didn’t say anything as he got settled, allowing the other man to shift in his seat as he muttered, ‘ain’t bad enough you hauled my ass down here on some bullshit charge.’

Again Austin ignored him, gesturing for his partner to flip the switch on the large tape player in between both parties which he did, shifting awkwardly as he realised Austin was allowing him some input. Of course John did not know his partner that well but he’d been in enough interview rooms to know the dynamic his colleague was aiming for. And so he cleared his throat and prepared his most polite tone as he said, ‘interview commenced at nine fifteen am on June twelfth. Detectives Butler and Melling present along with the appropriate counsel. Sir, could you please state and spell your name for the record?’

John was watching Elvis as he spoke, everyone was, but the man’s gaze remained locked on Austin, his blue eyes narrowed and a distinct curl on his lip in contempt even though it wasn’t him asking. Austin didn’t react.

‘Uh, Mr Presley,’ John said, clearing his throat again awkwardly when he failed to answer, ‘could you please-’

‘Elvis Presley,’ Elvis replied, his eyes still on Austin, ‘E-L-V-I-S P-R-E-S-L-E-Y.’

‘Thank you,’ John replied, an awkward but thankful smile on his lips that Austin resisted the urge to roll his eyes to. It hadn’t been easy to get everyone on board and though John had backed him but less out of the belief Austin had a good case and more out of some archaic duty to support his partner when he was under fire. Still it hadn't meant he was entirely on board and even he wasn't immune to trying to make Elvis Presley feel comfortable.

‘Now you gonna tell me why the hell you dragged my ass down here?’ Elvis challenged, not bothering to respond to the officer who had been speaking to him. There wasn’t much point, it wasn’t as if he’d stopped staring at Austin throughout the entire conversation.

‘I assumed that was clear in the warrant you were served,’ Austin said. Elvis’ glare deepened and his jaw tightened at the whiff of snark but Austin merely smiled and said, ‘but we can get to it anyway.’

Elvis watched as he shifted in his seat, opening up a manila folder and scanning through it as he produced a pen from his pocket. He moved slow, as if he was doing paperwork at his desk and not interrogating a suspect and Elvis watched him angrily waiting for him to speak.

‘Can you tell me where you were on May thirtieth?’ he said once he’d finally settled himself.

‘Ain’t I already told you?’ Elvis sneered.

‘I’m asking again,’ Austin said, tight but firm.

‘That dead kid ain’t nuthin’ to do with Kings,’ Elvis sneered.

‘That’s not what I asked,’ Austin replied, again his tone teetering on the edge of snark. Elvis glared at him but glanced towards his lawyer who had remained quiet through the entire thing, no doubt wanting Elvis to take charge before he made any decisions as everyone else seemed to do.

‘If you could provide some information that’s probably for the best,’ Hank muttered into Elvis’ ear, making his jaw tighten further.

‘At home,’ he said, his voice tight and low.

‘All day?’ Austin asked.

‘I went to the club,’ Elvis said.

‘That’s Kings night club, correct?’ Austin said.

‘Yes,’ Elvis replied, his tone dripping with resentment at having every little detail pulled from him. His irritation was also mounting at the way the detective was scribbling notes every time he spoke as though his word wasn’t trustworthy enough. It may have been a long time since anyone didn’t bend to his whim but it had been even longer since someone had failed to take his word as gospel.

‘And what time was that?’ Austin asked.

‘About eight, eight thirty,’ Elvis replied.

‘What did you do when you got there?’ Austin probed.

‘What I always do,’ Elvis said, sighing as Austin said nothing but raised an eyebrow, ‘it was a Friday right? So I watched the new acts, had some drinks and then went into my office to do some paperwork and calls.’

‘And someone can verify that?’ Austin challenged.

‘Just about everyone who was in the damn club,’ Elvis snapped, heaving a sigh as Austin merely looked at him as if waiting for specifics, ‘Sam, Sam Thomspon, my bartender. He was on that night so I guess he can verify I was there.’

‘What time did you leave?’ Austin said, jotting another note on his piece of paper.

‘About one am,’ Elvis said.

‘Alone?’ Austin challenged.

‘No,’ Elvis said with contempt, ‘I have drivers. And bodyguards.’

‘And their names?’ Austin asked.

‘Haven't you already spoken to my entire staff?’ Elvis scoffed, rolling his eyes as Austin failed to bite once more, ‘Jerry Schilling, Red West, Sonny West.’

‘And they left with you?’ Austin asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Where did you go?’ Austin asked.

‘Home,’ Elvis replied, his eyes flicking to the pen that had stalled, curious as to why his answer was not immediately being jotted down in the file in front like all the others.

‘You didn’t drop them off first?’ he asked. Elvis scoffed, ‘they wouldn't be good bodyguards if they left me on my own now would they.’

‘Guess not,’ Austin smiled, with a glint in his eye that Elvis didn’t care for. Neither was the way he added another layer of suspicion as he asked, ‘and they’ll verify this?’

‘Yes,’ Elvis grunted.

Austin nodded, flicking through his file for a second before he looked at his colleague, the lawyer and then back at Elvis as if he was checking they were all listening before he started, whatever question he wanted to ask appearing significant though Elvis didn’t know why as it was only, ‘how long did it take you?’

‘What?’ Elvis asked. The questions had been trivial enough but this seemed to border on the edge of banality. Like he wanted Elvis to spell every single detail out for him. He could tell by the accent that this Butler guy was not a native Memphian and so he might not know the streets well enough to guess but he was getting sick of having to hold the guy’s hand through this entire process. Whenever he’d dealt with Memphis’ boys in blue before it had never been this formal. Over the years there’d been cursory visits but it was normally uniforms who took his word at face value. Anything else was usually dealt with by the Colonel who normally spared him facing the inside of a police station unless it was being angled as a publicity stunt. Now he was starting to sweat, beads of perspiration forming between his shirt and his hairline as piercing blue eyes watched him.

‘That time of night it's got to be ten, fifteen minutes max to get from the club to your house right?’ Austin asked.

‘I guess,’ Elvis said, trying to keep his wariness from his tone.

‘But you left the club at one ten am, we got that from your CCTV, yet your gate camera only clocked you getting back home at two fifty-three am. Where were you for an hour and forty-three minutes?’ Austin asked, his eyes set on Elvis’ face. But it wasn’t just him watching him. Everyone was and he suddenly realised this was not what he’d thought it was. He wasn’t holding this guy’s hand; this guy was laying the foundations to trip Elvis up.

He didn’t know why he’d been so stupid. Annoyed sure but that was because trouble never usually hung around this long. Problems in Elvis Presley's world were dealt with the moment they raised their head. Sure people asked questions but they usually knew it wasn’t worth digging any deeper than the surface level. Of course he had heard this Butler guy had been digging but he had figured it was just because he was too green to know better. Too ambitious, he’d had lower-level guys in the club like it before. They just needed to be put in their place. Now it was too late because he’d got him boxed into a corner. And both of them knew it.

It was why he didn’t probe. He just sat there, allowing the silence to fester until one of them got uncomfortable enough to speak. Only it was Elvis’ lawyer who hesitated first, mumbling to his client, ‘if you could explain that it’d help.’

Elvis cleared his throat and sniffed, trying to maintain an air of nonchalance as he shrugged and said, ‘we went for burgers.’

‘Where?’ Austin asked pointedly.

‘Louie’s.’

‘And your friends, sorry bodyguards, will confirm that?’ Austin asked.

‘Yes,’ Elvis said.

‘Hmm,’ Austin said dismissively and though he was trying to remain cool Elvis couldn’t help but bite, grunting a ‘what?’ before he could stop himself.

‘Nothing,’ Austin said casually, ‘it's just I don’t see how you had the time.’

‘An hour is plenty of time to get a burger,’ Hank the lawyer protested.

‘Maybe but it's not enough time when you’re across town murdering someone,’ Ausitn challenged.

‘You think I murdered the kid?’ Elvis scoffed.

‘I’m sure you did,’ Austin said, leaning forward in his seat, ‘in fact I think you saw Tony leave his shift at one and you followed him home. Now admittedly he stopped for a pizza so whether you headed back to his place and waited or sat outside the pizza parlour I’m not sure but I’m sure you showed up at his apartment. And when you knocked on the door and he opened it and saw his boss, well, who wouldn’t invite them in. He even gave you a drink.’

‘Speculation,’ Hank protested.

‘Not exactly,’ Austin corrected, ‘you see we have your fingerprints on a half-drunk glass of scotch in Tony's apartment and considering it wasn’t moved it’s safe to assume it was being used just before he died.’

Again the silence festered, a satisfied Austin not bothering to prod as the blows landed better than he’d anticipated. But John must’ve been feeling uncomfortable which prompted him to ask, ‘can you explain that?’

‘Maybe he doesn’t clean his glasses very often,’ Elvis said.

‘So you were there at some point?’ Austin challenged, suppressing a smirk at the irritated grunt Elvis made, ‘or am I to believe that he left two glasses of whiskey on the side for what a week? A month? That he never touched or moved them leaving your prints perfectly unsmudged? The same way I’m supposed to believe that he left his freshly bought pizza on the side or left his mail unopened. No, I think the two of you had a drink and a conversation and then for some reason you blew his brains out, which is crazy considering you didn’t even know the kid ten minutes ago.’

Elvis said nothing.

‘So come on, what happened?’ Austin probed. Elvis glared at him but Austin didn’t relent. He stared back, challenging him to say something, anything though he didn’t see what he could say that wouldn’t muddy his defence even more. After a moment Elvis muttered, ‘no comment.’

‘Oh come on!’ Austin laughed, ‘you’ve been happy to run your mouth up to now what’s the matter? Afraid you’re going to tell the truth for once? Or are you going to tell me that your prints being in the apartment of a dead guy you don’t know is all coincidence?’

Elvis stayed silent.

‘Just like you leaving right after him must be. Just like your alibi not matching all your little friends is,’ Austin smirked, leaning closer as Elvis’ gaze snapped up at the mention of an alibi. Of course he’d known that all this mounted to an alibi but he hadn't anticipated he’d be one step ahead, ‘you know we asked your pals where you were that night. And they confirmed you left together and that you went straight home. No burgers. No stopping. No nothing. Is that coincidence too?’

The room was deathly quiet and all of a sudden Elvis was feeling rueful he was such an impatient man. He hated that everyone tried to bend to his will or that no one felt as though they could make decisions for him. If he wasn't maybe they would have found a lawyer who wasn’t too scared to jump in and fix this mess. If he wasn’t maybe he wouldn’t have friends so eager to defend him in their haste they’d landed him in hot water. If he wasn’t maybe he wouldn’t have been so relaxed about this whole thing being pushed under the carpet. He wouldn’t have underestimated this detective. He wasn’t fool enough to think that the whole justice system would bend to the will of the king of Memphis but it had been so long he had become acclimatised to expecting it.

And this guy was a force to be reckoned with. No one had spoken but he kept pushing as if he could niggle something out of the other man if he kept needling, ‘let me guess it’s a coincidence the type of gun used was the same make and model of one you own.’

‘Have you got the gun?’ his lawyer asked, finally making some traction in ‘defence’.

‘No,’ Detective Melling admitted, ‘we don’t…the gun box at your house was empty.’’

‘Then I don’t see how that incriminates my client,’ Hank replied.

‘You don’t think it’s odd that the week we come looking around your clients house for a gun he owns is the same week said gun up and vanishes from your clients possession,’ Austin challenged.

‘I own a lot of guns,’ Elvis said, trying to keep his voice confident though it lacked conviction.

‘And?’ Austin asked, ‘let me guess someone else used the type of gun you have and shot a guy you don’t know after you'd been in his apartment? That sound plausible to you?’

‘I think you’ve got scraps of evidence and you’re adding them together hoping for a good story,’ Elvis spat.

‘Elvis,’ Hank warned.

‘Scraps?’ Austin rebuffed, ‘we’ve got proof you were there, the last one to see him, and he was shot with a gun just like one you own which coincidentally is missing now. Not to mention how you’ve tried to throw off the scent by being cagey as hell and yet you still haven’t managed to coordinate a decent alibi. That’s more than a good story.

‘Oh yeah and what’s the reason?’ Elvis growled, leaning forward in his seat threateningly though Austin matched him, their faces not so far apart as the tension rose, ‘why would I kill some punk kid who works for me?’

‘You tell me why you wouldn’t.’

They remained looking at one another, the ire rolling off them both until finally Austin sloped back in his chair as he looked to John awaiting him to do the rest. His partner sighed and looked to Elvis, ‘Elvis Presley I am charging you with the murder of Anthony Bowen…’

ELVIS TAGS

@girlblogger2002@sania562@caitlin1996@literally-just-elvis-fics@notstefaniepresley @18lkpeters @velvetelvis @jaqueline19997 @elvispresleyxoxo @amydarcimarie @everythingelvispresley @elvispresleywife @lillypink @richardslady121 @louisejoy86 @ccab @i-r-i-n-a-a @lettersfromvenus @artlesson8892 @presleyenterprise

AUSTIN TAGS

@purejasmine @caitlin1996

#my writing #elvis #elvis presley #love in trouble #Elvis Presley x ofc #austin butler #Austin butler x ofc

11 notes · View notes

vigilskeep · 1 year ago

Note

You are my fellow vampire lover dragon age person who knows far more than me so I need your wisdom. Are reavers always aggressive? Do they have to be warriors charging into battle and being the centre of a fight? Or can they be sneaky? Can they hide in the shadows picking off enemies, drawing power from the blood that flows down their neck at the cut of their dagger? Can a reaver feed off the fear of its enemies as their laughter echoes thought haunted halls fallowed by screams? Can they become more than men as they take life after life and feed off the blood they spill in the shadows? Granted, a blood mage would work just as well but the whole drinking a dragon's blood and ritualistism and making a choice to become a reaver really appeals to me for my idea of a vampire inspired DA character. Sorry for getting carried away as well but I wanna hear you talk about potential DA vampires hehehehehehe

BEAUTIFUL QUESTION THANK U. i myself have been given to exploring the concept of a reaver rogue...

the reasons reavers are most suited to a warrior’s skillset are threefold: 1. they sacrifice their health to utilise many of their abilities, and thus should have a large pool to draw from; 2. they have abilities that derive from terrorising enemies and projecting an aura of pain upon those surrounding them, for which it’s helpful to be in the middle of the fight, and 3. the rage-fuelled frenzy into which they sink in combat, and supposedly eventually lose themselves into long term, doesn’t naturally give itself to subtlety

but considering they are fuelled by fear and they are designed to do as much damage as possible fast, i think a reaver rogue could work conceptually. they would need higher constitution than your average rogue, but that is possible, and the legionnaire subclass in awakening shows that high con rogues are trained by some groups. a reaver capable of cooling their rage into an icily precise blade and glorying in the terror they cause seems reasonable to me. you can just imagine them getting stronger and stronger as they stalk through the dark. reavers revel in death! :D i would combine it with some of the assassin spec, as zevran mentions that organisations like the crows use similar blood rituals to increase their abilities, and dao dialogue treats the assassin spec as on par with blood mages and reavers in that regard

as an aside, reavers would also make good spies and assassins on the grounds that they develop an immunity to pain by damage because it only strengthens them, so they should be extremely resistant to getting any information beaten out of them should the worst come to pass, to the point that tallis once completely dismissed the possibility of it being useful to attempt

as an aside, vampires do exist in dragon age as mentioned in one (1) codex, but they are a result of hunger demon possessions which... might not be what you have in mind

#reaverposting

41 notes · View notes

justinspoliticalcorner · 4 months ago

Text

Sasha Abramsky at The Nation:

The shooting at Donald Trump’s rally in Pennsylvania Saturday night is a chilling reminder of both the political tensions that roil today’s America and the dangers of a culture that increasingly fetishizes high powered weaponry. This isn’t the first time, of course, that either a president or a leading presidential candidate has been shot at: Presidents Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley, and Kennedy all died at assassins’ hands. Reagan was shot in the stomach but survived. In 1950, Puerto Rican nationalists tried to kill Truman. Charles Manson’s deranged follower Squeaky Fromme made an attempt on the life of Gerald Ford. Back in 1912, former president Teddy Roosevelt, campaigning for a political comeback, took a bullet in the chest area. He was apparently saved by the thick wad of notes for the speech he was giving, which took much of the brunt of the shot—and, despite bleeding copiously from his wound, he continued on with his speech (a somewhat more flamboyant version of Trump’s shouting “Fight, fight, fight!” as the Secret Service hustled him, bleeding from a wound on his ear, into a bulletproof SUV).

Perhaps the assassination attempt that has most in common with that against Trump yesterday was the shooting of the noxious, race-baiting George Wallace in 1972. Wallace had spent years inflaming national passions against desegregation, had injected a poisonous language of violence into his political speeches, and had repeatedly flirted with paramilitaries in his opposition to court-ordered or federally mandated desegregation efforts. I wish violence on no one, and I feel for Trump and for his family today, as they process the brush with mortality the presidential candidate experienced. Assuming it was, indeed, a bullet that grazed Trump’s ear, and not shards of glass from the shattered teleprompter as some have speculated, it must be utterly terrifying knowing that, had the bullet’s trajectory been just a few millimeters different, Trump would have taken a shot to the head. That knowledge would give anyone nightmares.

But I also know that, in the days to come, it would be a terrible mistake for Democrats to give Trump a free pass on political violence or to let the narrative take hold that Biden and the Democratic Party are to blame for this event—as J.D. Vance and others began insisting within minutes of the assassination attempt. Trump’s violent rhetoric ought to be as disqualifying tomorrow as it was yesterday; and his unfitness for office should remain as paramount an issue for voters next week and next month as it has been in all the years and months leading up to the events of this week. To be absolutely clear, there is no politician in America today who has done more to stoke political violence than Donald J. Trump. And that is as true today as it was before the attempt on his life.

Trump has gloried in a language of political violence for the better part of a decade, demonizing his political enemies and taking politics up to and beyond the boiling point.

[...] The would-be assassin’s bullet that grazed Trump’s ear thankfully missed its mark. But that bullet can’t be allowed to erase all the long, ignoble history of Trump’s dalliance with violence, of his gross disrespect for civic norms and for the peaceful transfer of power after an election that he lost. Trump and his team will, over the days to come, look to shape a martyr narrative, to paint Trump as the victim of a conspiracy reaching to the highest levels of government. As with most everything to do with the Trump campaign, it will be utter balderdash. Political violence ought to have absolutely no place in how democracies allocate power and influence. That goes not just for the violence unleashed by would-be assassins but also for the more casual, background, daily violence that Trump has, since he first announced his candidacy in 2015, normalized among his supporters.

Sasha Abramsky wrote in The Nation how Donald Trump’s history of inciting and glorifying violence cannot be negated in light of yesterday’s assassination attempt against him.

#2024 Trump Assassination Attempt #Donald Trump #Assassination #Incitement of Violence #Capitol Insurrection #Charlottesville #Stay At Home Orders Protests #Assault on Paul Pelosi

5 notes · View notes

creative-classpect · 1 year ago

Text

The Land of Traps and Song

Down in the ultra dense cyber city streets, neon lights flicker and burst to the ramping rhythm. Loudspeakers the size of skyscrapers pulse with electrifying music, twisting and turning the geometry of the city around them. Steel and stone bend and shift, revealing the vibrant technicolor dungeons embedded into the various patterns of the world, all controlled by the almost deafening music that pervades the planet.

Welcome to the Land of Traps and Song, LOTAS! Where death or victory is one wrong move away!

This land is a rich multilayered, highly customizable super structure that can be endlessly configured through the sound of music, with different rhythms and styles introducing or subtracting its various elements. While some paths may lead to glory, a single misstep could result in a tumbling cascade of traps, alarms, and dangers beyond imagination.

The world itself is largely structured as a highly customizable city, where each building has unique floors filled with rewards and hazards. These buildings can expand high into the sky or completely sink beneath the ground depending on a wide variety of factors, but they always maintain a certain set of states and patterns with the other buildings and terrain around them. These configurations are called ‘blocks’ or ‘sets’ by the consorts of the land who need to be keenly aware of the music to map out the hazards of the land.

While LOTAS is certainly an unforgiving place, its design is so finely attuned and precisely wound that it will never give any truly ‘new’ surprises and configurations, given enough time. It’s just that most people don’t live long enough to make a mistake they can afford to make again.

Something curious has begun to shift in the predictably dangerous land. While consorts have been able to depend on the regions with steady, simple music, the unexplored lands of musical mayhem have begun to ramp up with increasingly intense songs. The introduction of subtle notes consorts can’t even pick up on and newfound complex rhythms that they are not nearly fast enough to follow.

Entire sets are being replaced with pulse pounding mega dungeons, filled to the brim with underling monsters, pits of fire, acid spikes, electricity mazes, and all new combinations. The consorts are being backed into the corner as more and more of their world is becoming smaller and smaller.

It’s up to the Heir of Time to run it back and rougelike their way through the expanding megadungeons and master the all consuming rhythm of the world to set LOTAS to their tempo!

Features

The Dodecagon

The core at the heart of the world, the 12 sided megastructure that influences the entire planet with its music. Nowhere on LOTAS is there somewhere more dangerous. Nowhere in the entire session is there a place with more incredible music.

Each side of the Dodecagon is a different style of music with an incredible level of technical skill that moves and shifts an entire facet of the planet with even the most minute of gestures. Complimentarily, there are death traps the likes of which have never seen the light of day. It is a gauntlet, an onslaught that demands perfect timing. Miniaturized black hole bombs, laser cannon arrays, zigzagging teleportation portals bursting with electricity and only nanometers left for a margin of error. To name the more mild traps, of course.

Following the music is the only way to cross the surface safely, but that is far easier said than done. Only when the Dodecagon is completed in one single run, a testament to speed, skill, and raw endurance, can the denizen’s lair be found.

The Electric Terminal

While LOTAS is a superstructure of artistic design, it is still a vastly complex machine of a massive scale. Such a place requires an enormous amount of power to keep the thousands of moving parts fully operational.

Enter The Electric Terminal, a powerplant to rule them all. A hyper advanced maze of lightning and twisted metal, the terminal is an especially dangerous place operated by unique sets of underling monsters. It is believed that the denizen created this place, and though it is certainly effective, the consorts are clueless as to how it actually functions.

Some believe the terminal is home to the denizen itself, while others think it houses the scratch construct. A fringe theory is that the power generated is from the unwinding of time itself…

Side quests

Broken Metronome

Difficulty: 5/10

A few consorts in the settlement called Keynote have gone missing in one of the local dungeon patterns. They had placed set metronomes as a way to easily find where they were through sound, but the metronomes have gone missing. Every hour left in those dungeons could prove fatal and it’s unclear how long the lost consorts can last!

Rewards

12 metronomes, none of which are in synch, each possessing their own unique rhythm. Some sort of energy flux has caused the metronomes to align with a core rhythm from each region of the Dodecagon

A set of expensive exploration gear. Rock climbing equipment, a head lantern, parkour shoes, a mess kit, and a pack of extra delicious trail mix

Tempo Revolution

Difficulty: 10/10

Times are changing on LOTAS. I wish that was a metaphor. The world itself is undergoing a great transition in both space and time, altering and shifting around the set patterns that govern the world. Time itself has begun to move at variable paces, creating localized splits in paradox space. Underlings, imbued with strang time magic, have begun running rampant across the land.

Time itself is threatening to unwind entirely and for reasons largely unknown. What is known is that the Tempo Revolution is caused by a flux of power between the Dodecagon and the Electric Terminal.

While the main quest of the world is still possible to complete with the ongoing Tempo Revolution, it does exist on a fixed time limit before the Tempo Revolution begins. Once that threshold has been crossed, its difficulty skyrockets. If this event has begun, nobody but the Heir of Time should not dare enter LOTAS until it has been completed. To do so otherwise is to surely die.

Reward

Hands of time- Two clock hands, perfectly in sync, from the interior mechanism of the Dodecagon and the Electric Terminal. These two items can only come into existence during this specific time-bending state of the land and, before and after, exist as paradox items akin to juju, becoming completely unbound from the timeline.

One hand manipulates the past, the other manipulates the future.

House starting location

Keynote

While much of LOTAS is a musical death trap, there is one place of peace and sanctuary. That place is Keynote, the clockwork plaza. Keynote acts as a sort of neutral hubzone, situated neatly on the equator and axis of the world and, as such, is perfectly placed to access the various regions of the world while not being in any danger itself.

Keynote is home to dozens of consorts who have carved out a small, but bustling town the Heir of Time's home appears in the direct center of. Some of these consorts operate makeshift item shops, offering all sorts of treasures (and junk) they've discovered in their outings across LOTAS.

It's peace has made Keystone a bit of an anomaly, as it is the only region where consorts can congregate to share maps and insider knowledge of the surrounding dungeons. This has the added benefit of creating a truly insane cross pollination of music genres. Fusions and blends of music can always be heard, between the constant jam sessions and rhythm arcade games they play

--- --- ---

This post was commissioned by @lepardlover ! If you want to commission me or support my content, you can find me @ https://ko-fi.com/kesscal or over at https://linktr.ee/Skywhale09 !

#heir of time #homestuck #classpect #homestuck land #land analysis

26 notes · View notes

h00dbrvt · 7 months ago

Text

Feel so blessed n grateful 4 how far I’ve kome in such a short period of time , all glory 2 God Da Most High Thank u father 💕💕💕❤️

#highlyfavored#God#myLordnsavior

5 notes · View notes

frostedlemonwriter · 2 years ago

Text

Kitchen Adventures - Chapter 1

Mr. Moran’s old seafoam green pickup truck rumbled down the winding road that led through this old neighborhood. Past old but well-maintained houses with manicured lawns surrounded by trees on each side, the ancient heavy leaf-laden boughs hung over the road in a natural arch. Houses made of brick and wood were built during Acadia’s boom after the war when the fishing industry took off to help serve a hungry nation. Acadia wasn’t even a fraction of its former glory, but people remained. The pickup truck drove up to the intersection of St. Mary’s and Glenfiddich before it turned and disappeared in the evening mist.

A rough stone wall stained by the constant cold rain bordered a two-story home that housed an average family. Each window lit up from the inside with signs of movement and life. Oak-scented smoke rose from the chimney in an unbroken shaft into the clouds above, with a wrap-around porch covered by an awning held up by faux classical columns. High-backed wooden chairs painted white beside tables covered in empty bottles and wine glasses.

Two teenage women sat on the old stone wall with their hands clenched together. Ryan Byrnes ran her free hand through her dark brown hair and flipped to one side. A miniature cross dangled off the thin hoop through her earlobe; her thin lips painted an aubergine color with a silver stud piercing her bottom lip. While her girlfriend, the ginger-haired Kaytlin Amber, was clad in a denim jacket with various patches upon its surface. A messenger bag lay strapped around her torso.

“I hate these parties,” Ryan broke the silence.

Kat smirked while she brought her phone up to check her texts. Two from her mother and one from her father. In typical fashion, she rolled her eyes at the orders and summons to return home.

“At least your parents are normal,” Kat replied. “My parents throw dinner parties for political bullshit reasons with people they hate.”

“Your dad is a politician, babe.”

Kat waved her hand in a dismissive gesture, “I know. Still, everything is so fake.”

“He’s the fakest person I know,” Ryan kissed Kaytlin’s cheek. “You are the realist person I know.”

Kaytlin turned her head to give her girlfriend a soft kiss.

“I gotta head home,” Kat sighed.

With a sigh of her own, Ryan wanted to spend more time with her best friend and girlfriend. Still, there was plenty of time together once they graduated in just over a month. Kat’s father owned a condo in the city that he only used when he had to visit the city. As a graduation present to both young women, they will stay there through the next four years of college as long as they take care of it.

Kaytlin hopped off the wall while she gazed at Ryan for a moment. After a bit, Kat pulled out her camera from the messenger bag. After she fiddled with some settings, Kay kneeled in front of her girlfriend before urging her not to move. Ryan was used to it and loved being an impromptu model. Considering that a photo she was in helped Kaytlin get into Oregon State University’s photography program.

“My perfect muse,” Kat remarked before she leaned in to kiss Ryan. “I’ll text you. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Kaytlin waved before she walked over to the bike that she had had since they were in middle school. A depression in the grass from the bicycle corrected itself once Kat departed. Down the road where the town’s most expensive houses resided – the mayor, the DA, and various lawyers and doctors lived.

With a glance at the woman disappearing down the road, Ryan prepared to go back inside, where her parents and their friends were undoubtedly drunk. Another moment lingered before her stomach grumbled, which forced her hand as dinner called Ryan’s name. Her parents were always social with the neighbors, which meant a lot of food and alcohol. For Ryan, it meant she had to be social when all she wanted to do was watch her cooking shows; read her culinary books for the hundredth time; or even play a video game, which she did a bit more rare as Ryan got older.

While she made her way through the house with a bowl of chili, Mr. Henderson cooked and brought it over. Ryan went to her private sanctuary in the entire world – her bedroom. It was the smallest room in the home as her two older brothers got the bigger ones she preferred. Dozens of posters and photos cover her walls. Bands she had always loved dominated most of the walls, with the popstar Juju taking center stage. A twin-sized bed dominated the right side of the room with a shelf built into the wall above, which held books by famed chefs Niki Yoshimoto, Melissa Kim, and various others.

Upon a metal desk, her laptop opened with a green pipe screensaver that just caused various lights to play across the room. Purple and green lights strung around her room. Ryan's chef jacket hung off a hanger from the back of her open closet door. She turned on The Owl House on her laptop; this was her favorite of all time outside of culinary shows. Ryan locked the door after she finished her dinner and brushed her teeth. With her phone clutched in her hands, she curled up on her bed.

While Ryan was always an early riser, she decided to jog around the neighborhood to help let out some energy and work on her health. After working at Doc Henderson’s, a five-star Zagat restaurant catered to the elite of Acadia and its surrounding towns, Ryan discovered that stamina and fitness would make the intense professional kitchen a bit easier to handle. Ryan steeled herself for the long day ahead with her phone playing Tegan and Sara through her earbuds.

The school day was a drag since Kaytlin didn’t share many classes. They would see each other often until the lunch break, which allowed both of them to have jobs to save each cent for their move to the city. After a couple of hours spent hanging out, Kat would drop off Ryan before she took herself to work.

An old Victorian manor turned restaurant where the first doctor that lived in Acadia dwelled back when the town first formed. The back door led to a large dry storage room with a locker room off to the side. A space that smelt of the astringent chemicals that kept it clean. Several old metal lockers lined the wall. Ryan stuffed her backpack into the cubicle before she put on the whole chef’s outfit, including the jacket and pants, and made sure the black skull cap properly secured her hair.

“Miss Byrnes, good to see you,” Chef Joseph Woodward called out to the young lady as she entered the kitchen.

The Chef was an imposing man with broad shoulders, a well-trimmed graying beard, and a small American flag pinned to the chef jacket’s lapel. It was a sign that the man had cooked on the American Culinary team and was a certified Chef de Cuisine. Outside of Chef Ashly Willow, Ryan’s most revered chef, this man was the most influential in how she cooked. From dishwasher to prep to garde manger in less than a month, she had been on the most decorative and knife-heavy station for the past half year, which had improved her knife skills by leaps and bounds, along with plating.

“How are you, chef?” Ryan replied.

“Great,” Chef Joseph answered, “Can I have a moment of your time, please?”

Ryan nodded and followed the chef toward what used to be an old storeroom converted to a fully functional office. Photos of the owners and the chef with various great culinarians and chefs of the past and present.

“You aren’t in trouble. Please relax a little,” The chef said to Ryan.

Ryan’s shoulders softened as she sat down to listen to the chef. Who explained to her how well she had been doing and how quickly she had picked up the basics of knife work. Not to mention the design on the plates of the salads and desserts was quick and precise, and even Ryan would admit this is the part she enjoyed the most. She was making art on a blank plate canvas. Even if it was someone else’s design, Ryan learned something each time. The chef praised her but gave the young woman some more pointers on how to be more efficient in her movement. Before, he stated that Ryan would be working with Sous Chef Allison Daveys on the grill station tonight. One of the most prestigious and complex stations for it involved the precise cooking, cutting, and resting of proteins. Chef wanted her to work on each station for a week before going to culinary school. For her education, more than a need for help on the stations. The chef's goal was to expose the young woman to many other techniques before she left.

“I recognize the talent, potential, and natural understanding for cooking that you possess,” The chef wasn’t a man to give out compliments for no reason. “I think culinary school is the best thing for you. Just keep working on your skills. Find a part-time weekend job at a nice restaurant near the school. Join the ACF as a student.”

The chef liked to hear himself talk; however, Ryan made a mental note of his advice to write down later in the culinary notebook she kept in her backpack. The American Culinary Federation was already on the young woman’s radar, which solidified her wanting to join their student program. He explained more about what Ryan should do, tweak, or change, and after a bit, the chef sent Ryan off to work under the Sous Chef.

Ryan enjoyed the opportunity to work on the grill. To learn how to temp a piece of meat just by touch. To properly rest and cut a beautiful protein. It was a rather busy Monday night, but it wasn’t hard for the young woman to keep up with the demands of the guests. By the night's end, her steaks were perfect no matter what doneness the guest wanted. Her fish was properly cooked and not overdone. The chicken was juicy, not underdone, but not overdone. The young woman was proud of herself and even received praise from the cooks around here. Even the Sous Chef who was on the station with her seemed impressed.

By the time the restaurant was closed, Ryan was in the locker room, paying no heed to the other cooks around her who had changed into their street clothes. She wrote the advice the chef de cuisine gave her. The way to slice meat - against the grain! - written across the top of the page.

When her girlfriend called to tell Ryan to get her butt outside, Ryan was excited, still pumped from the night, that she got into Kat’s sedan and kissed her girlfriend. The young chef-to-be couldn’t help but go on about the evening, which Kaytlin found adorable. Despite her job at McDonald’s being awful. Kat was just happy for her girlfriend. Just like Ryan supported every step of Kat’s desire to be a photographer.

After a bit, Kaytlin stopped her car in front of Ryan’s home. They quickly kissed before Ryan made her way across the damp lawn. Once inside, she greeted her mother, ignored her brother's snide comment, and disappeared into her room. Ryan lay on her bed with a bit of a huff; when she closed her eyes, Ryan thought of her girlfriend, but her mind drifted to Portland. Kat would make waves in the photography world, while Ryan would open her food truck to help fund her future restaurants and catering business. It was a great idea, but Ryan knew it would be hard. A smile crossed her face because the idea she would be doing this with her best friend, girlfriend, and soulmate was such a great, awesome thing that many wouldn’t get.

The last few weeks in Acadia went by much quicker than anyone expected. Yet, the weekend before school started for both women, the young women packed up Kat’s car with both of their clothes, books, and anything they could fit, as they were thankful the furnished condo was an actual option. A dark and dreary day with heavy rain didn’t slow them down after a quick farewell to Ryan’s parents. Kat cranked the engine to life and looked at her girlfriend.

“Ready?” Kat asked.

There was a lot of weight to that singular word.

Ryan took her girlfriend’s hand for a moment, “Yes.”

Always Wit U by Juju played over the speakers after Ryan started her Spotify playlist. The two teens sang the lyrics together while Kat drove the car out of the neighborhood. One of the lovely sunny days to start their new lives together in the big city, at least it was a big city to them, and it couldn’t have been more perfect. Ryan’s left knee bounced as they rode on the highway. Kaytlin placed her hand on her girlfriend’s knee, which calmed both women as they got closer to their new home.

Portland was their favorite city as the place had a unique aura compared to Seattle or any of the major cities in California. There were tall buildings, yet no high rises like in Seattle. Plenty of trees and green areas, and once you enter the city, there’s a sign that welcomes you with the city’s unofficial motto - Keep Portland Weird. The young women truly loved the city because everyone seemed to be themselves without worry or the need to change. As if societal taboos didn’t exist here, though that was untrue, it is still great not to have to feel like changing themselves.

Kaytlin pulled off to the side close to the Willamette River, where several bridges spanned across the gentle elbow of the river’s bend. She knew her girlfriend well enough that Ryan didn’t say anything as Kat removed her camera. Despite having been best friends since elementary school and lovers since sophomore year. The sudden inspiration that Kat would receive always amazed Ryan as she would see something and knew it would make a great photo somehow. To work on pure creative intuition and instinct was something that Kat always had. Ryan didn’t know if she had such a thing despite what her former chef informed her some weeks ago.

“It’s beautiful,” Kat said.

Ryan looked over the river as the sun played off the water's surface. Without another word, she climbed back into the car. Kat pulled them into an underground car park with its code-activated gate and a fancy elevator.

After a long elevator ride, they carried their boxes and bags through the unremarkable hallway leading to their condo. Once Kat unlocked the door, they both had a key given to them by her father, but Kaytlin was always a bit of a gentleman, in a sense. Once inside, Ryan loved how minimalistic and modern the interior was.

“Dad paid a lot of money for some fancy-schmancy interior designer to make this place look good. Then his dumb ass never comes here,” Kat groaned, but the man had a lot of money.

Kaytlin always scoffed at the idea. Her parents had money, but Kat worked to save her own, not wanting a cent from either one, which was another thing Ryan admired about her girlfriend. The desire to truly become independent of her parents in every way. Kat was different than all the other rich, posh girls in school that Ryan knew.

Surprisingly it didn’t take them too long to unpack everything, which left Ryan some time to look down at Portland below. Like ants below her, people went about their daily lives. Cars drove through the streets that led to where they had to go, wherever that may be.

“Are you sure you don’t mind cooking tonight?” Kat whispered, arms wrapped around Ryan’s stomach.

“Don’t be silly,” Ryan replied. “I am

They spent the weekend making their shared home their own with various posters, pictures, and the purple and green lights that Ryan had strung in her old bedroom. The future chef made every meal to practice her knife cuts and other techniques she had seen on YouTube or in the textbooks for her first semester. Kat proclaimed the food was excellent each time, and though Ryan thought it tasty, she knew it wasn’t as good as her girlfriend claimed. However, Ryan loved how much Kat supported her, as it pushed her to want to make great food every time.

“Let me take a picture of it,” Kat looked at the plate of food and glanced up at her girlfriend.

Ryan shook her head. Despite being pretty plates, Ryan felt her food wasn’t ready to be photographed. The young woman’s confidence did balloon a little as she couldn’t deny that they did look good.

Ryan kept her habit of jogging early in the morning, with Kat joining her sans camera. They would explore their area of the city with small boutiques, cafes, and bars. Not to mention the bus stops for Ryan and Kat. What stood out was the open-air market a few blocks from where they lived.

“Let’s stop a moment,” Ryan said, out of breath with her legs burning.

Kat nodded, “Yeah, babe. I need to catch my breath anyway. I am dying!”

Ryan glanced at her girlfriend, whose brow glistened in beads of sweat that glistened in the early morning sun. Her focus, however, switched to the sizable market that sat on the corner of a rather busy intersection. Despite the time of day, the market was a hub of activity. Workers filled their stalls with fresh produce, fish, and a few butchers with beautiful cuts of meats.

“Wow,” Ryan whispered to herself.

The young chef smelled produce and sampled everything she could as she and Kat talked with the vendors; this was one of the eye-opening moments of Ryan’s life as her palate acquired new flavors. Just like her old chef used to advise her to do every time the restaurant got fresh ingredients. The visit was great despite Kaytlin lamenting that she should have brought her camera. It made Ryan desire to create fantastic, award-winning food from those who cared about the quality of their produce, beef, fish, or what-have-you, even higher than before.

The weekend ended after a dinner of flank steak, shiitake mushrooms, and fingerling potatoes, all ingredients Ryan found at the open-air market. The two women sat down to watch a movie, snuggling against one another as the weekend drew close. With both of their classes starting on Monday, they made sure both of their backpacks were ready to go.

Kaytlin quickly fell asleep, but Ryan couldn’t catch more than an hour of sleep at any time. Like a ship lost at sea, she tossed and turned beside her girlfriend, who slept through it all. Ryan couldn’t even explain why she was so nervous about tomorrow as she stared at the ceiling. Not like tomorrow was an important test or exam, but it felt like the first step in the long journey of her life. After some time, Ryan fell asleep for a few solid hours before getting up for her morning jog.

Ryan’s nerves improved as the jog ended, and she sat down, freshly scrubbed from her shower, dressed in her chef’s outfit for class. Ryan sipped on her coffee with still over an hour before her first class began. The young woman knew which building and room her classes would reside in as all the culinary courses were in the same place. Kat was going to drive them both today since her class was later in the day, so there was no need for the bus today. Tomorrow would be different with the early morning baking class and the ServSafe sanitary course.

The campus was large, with well-manicured green lawns that separated several large brick-faced buildings. Large groups of students traveled between the parking lot and their classes. A decent amount of them dressed in the same uniform as Ryan.

“You got this, babe,” Kat assured as she stopped close to Ryan’s building.

After a quick kiss, Ryan smiled and thanked her girlfriend for the support. Then she stepped out into the cool, windy morning. The most significant first step on the journey of becoming one of the chefs she had admired her whole life. A few students like her outside the giant production kitchen made small talk as they waited for the introductory class to begin. Ryan paid most of them no attention as she watched the older students in the kitchen. They made soups and stocks in one part while several students chopped, sliced, and minced vegetables under the watchful gaze of a chef. In a separate part of the kitchen, students made candies with what appeared to be molten sugar. Another had students pulling loaves of bread from an actual wood-fired brick oven. An excellent, wonderful, glorious place in Ryan’s mind, and she couldn’t wait to get started with it all, especially as these students she watched were starting new classes in their second, third, and fourth semesters and already knew something.

“My name is Sally, and this is Joesph,” A young blonde-haired woman gestured toward her apparent twin brother.

Ryan snapped out of her mind and looked at two dressed the same as herself with their university-issued knife bags and backpacks.

“Oh, sorry, I’m Ryan. It is a pleasure to meet you both,” She cocked an eyebrow, “Twins?”

Joseph nodded his head and pushed his thick hipster-like black-rimmed glasses up his nose.

“Sally is three minutes older.

“And I always remind him of it,” The woman added.

Before the twins could continue, an older woman in a chef’s jacket with a briefcase, a backpack, and a knife roll arrived to herd the students into one of the many classrooms set off the production kitchen. The broad-shouldered woman’s voice was low and husky, which commanded the attention of all who heard her. She introduced herself as Chef Melissa and explained her history of working with some of the best chefs in the country. Then the chef spent most of the time describing what to expect this semester from the classes since the first semester was the same for every culinary student. After that, everyone had to introduce themselves to their classmates, and Ryan hated this part yet participated when it was time.

With false confidence, Ryan stood up, “My name is Ryan Byrnes. I’m from just up the road a bit in Acadia. I’m a double major student in culinary and baking. I want to open a food truck and run a restaurant one day. My favorite chef is Ashly Willow. Would love to meet her one day.”

Ryan had to will herself to shut up and sit down, and it felt like everyone judged her, despite no one outside of the twins thinking twice about it. As the chef-professor ended the hours-long class, she led the students through the kitchen, including the bakery, candy shop, ice carving room, and even the restaurant open daily. Then after the chef proclaimed that Wednesday would be a lecture followed by time in the kitchen, she wished everyone a good rest for the beginner's baking course started before the sun rose above the horizon since their baked goods are what the cafeteria and restaurant sell throughout the day.

Well into mid-afternoon, Ryan said goodbye to her classmates once the class was over. Who was quick to trade numbers with each other, but then it was off to the bus for the young woman. She was thankful it didn’t take long to get to the condo, and Ryan was in the apartment alone for the first time. When she went through the culinary textbook, she found a bolognese recipe that Ryan had tried before. Dinner was decided for tonight, and Ryan was determined to have her first photo-worthy dish.

And assuredly, Kaytlin would love to take the photo.

#Writerblr #writing #creative writing #queer #fluff #mystory

62 notes · View notes