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smolbeandrabbles · 5 years ago

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Video Games - Nolan Sorrento x Reader (Ready Player One)

GIF CREDIT: X

Author’s Note: Well this was one scene long until I listened to this song. So, you’re welcome!

I always come back to this end scene for Nolan, and in all honesty it’s one of my favourite things to think about, so thank you @primadonna-girl23 for finally giving me a reason to write it! I hope you enjoy! Thank you for your request! 💙💜

Video Games - Lana Del Rey

Disclaimer: RPO characters not mine / gifs not mine / lyrics not mine. I tend to like writing Nolan like this, and I will live and die by it!

Premise: There’s nothing you love more than playing video games with Nolan. But hes good, and he doesn’t lose. All you vow is one day someones gonna beat him, even if you have to wait for another generation to do it for you...

Words: 2771

Warnings: Small swears / insulin warning

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Swinging in the backyard Pull up in your fast car whistling my name Open up a beer And you say get over here and play a video game I'm in his favorite sun dress Watching me get undressed take that body downtown I say you the bestest Lean in for a big kiss put his favorite perfume on Go play your video game

Singing in the old bars Living for the fame Kissing in the blue dark, playing pool and wild darts Video games He holds me in his big arms, drunk and I am seeing stars This is all I think of This is my idea of fun Playing video games

It's you, it's you, it's all for you Everything I do I tell you all the time Heaven is a place on earth where you Tell me all the things you want to do I heard that you like the bad girls honey, is that true? It's better than I ever even knew They say that the world was built for two Only worth living if somebody is loving you Baby now you do

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This may well have been one of your favourite past times. Sure, you were dating Nolan Sorrento, who at any point in time – as the CEO of IOI and with the millions he made – could whisk you down town in one of the many sports cars he owned to a bar, or a club, or restaurant, where all the stars hung out, or on some expensive getaway to anywhere in the world; heck, Nolan and his money could get you anything, and often did… But there was really nothing better than sitting in his living room trying to kick his ass at retro video games. You failed more times than you won, and sometimes you thought he let you win just because of the pout on your face, but you didn’t see how you could enjoy anything as much as this. With the sometimes God awful graphics, and the very most the consoles could really do was occasionally vibrate the controller (which made you shriek and him cackle the first time it happened) these games were a far cry from the OASIS – and yet you preferred them. These old restored gaming systems and the various disks and cartridges that came with them, along with movies from years gone by, were Nolan’s pride and joy. The 90s into early 2000s were his vary favourites; staples from his childhood. But he had right through until the latest editions – just before this type of gaming became nearly obsolete. You could play them in the OASIS, of course, but Nolan didn’t see the point when you could get the real experience by putting your mind to fixing things. Essentially his only past time before he’d become CEO – and now he didn’t have a lot of time for things like that, but he could escape to play them. Sometimes you just liked to watch him on single player go through something a little more strategic – but he’d let you pick out what his character looked like, or maybe who they would side with, or the conversational track that he’d go with. And you liked the times Nolan would go quiet for just a moment and then almost shudder, and say something like, “Oh my god the soundtrack!” which made you focus on it for the remainder of his playthrough.

But on occasion Nolan would put in a multiplayer game and throw you a controller; and you’d either get to help him, or try to beat him. And it was fun to lie back on the sofa between his legs, head on his chest – tongue stuck out in concentration and yell expletives every time he beat you. “You can do better than that!” He laughed again and you smacked his leg, “You’re infuriating!” He gave you nothing more than a teasing grin; “Oh, I’m trying very hard I assure you!” “OH! SHUT UP!” But you were good humoured about it, and Nolan still laughed when you resorted to cheating, attempting to block his view or distract him from time to time. Which he used to say would serve you right if you still lost; sometimes he’d pin you between or under his legs so you couldn’t move, and you thought he was doing a little too much Kegel. Sometimes Nolan would even beat you with one arm around your waist, holding you close to him as you balanced on his knees so he was playing one handed, just to prove he could – or he’d give you a ten second head start. You had to admit that he was good, but he was also an expert – Nolan knew these consoles inside out, and he’d grown up doing this. So, no surprises there either. Today this wasn’t the plan, you were supposed to be going out on a date – judging by the fact you were wearing a sundress, and he was in a nice shirt and pants. But on the drive out of town Nolan had started telling you about games he’d been reprogramming, and fixing up and some new ones he’d managed to get hold of. That information didn’t come with a price tag, but you could imagine the expense – and before long you found that more interesting and you were on your way back home. But this was a little more casual, and after getting bored of losing to him for the umpteenth time, Nolan let you play it for yourself. “Y-You sure!?” “Mhm…” He popped the cap on his beer, “I’ll help you out!” You smiled sweetly; “Don’t you want to play it first?” “No…” He gave a shrug taking a sip, “I played it enough as a kid – you don’t even know what this game is, time I taught you. It’s one of my very favourites…” And so he did help you navigate around – or point out little hidden pieces of game play or items you would have surely missed, occasionally he’d take your hands and the controller in his to assist with some of the harder stuff where you insisted you didn’t have enough fingers to work it all out at once – but Nolan watched that smile on your face grow every time he did so, and felt that maybe you were asking for his help on purpose. Eventually you sighed gently; “I love doing this with you…” “What? Hanging out on my couch playing retro games and skipping dates?” Nolan chuckled, taking another swig of beer – he was surprised there was any left considering your practice of taking it from him when you thought he wouldn’t notice. “Don’t say it like that…” you tipped your head back to catch the amusement on his face; “This is nice and relaxed… And we’re together, how is it not a date?” He tilted his head both ways; “I dunno, I guess I kinda like taking you out…” Nolan paused thoughtfully, “I’m not saying you’re wrong though, this is… I could get used to it.” “Get used to it?” You paused the game and rolled over to face him, “Careful what you wish for Nolan Sorrento!” But he still laughed; “That doesn’t sound like it bodes well for me. Ah, I think I could put up with you for a while.” “Thanks!” But you were laughing along, until you bit your lips together, “I…Think I could probably get used to this too.” He stared at you for a little while, almost in adoration, before he leant forward, touching his nose to yours before kissing you. You closed your eyes to him, content, before wrapping your arms around him and deepening the kiss. Sorrento eventually broke it, arms still around you – before chuckling nervously, a faint shade of pink dusting his cheeks; “Aha… Okay, before we get a little too used to this… I say we don’t waste that beautiful dress, and you let me take you out for dinner?” You giggled, stealing another kiss – “Okay! Dinner it is!”

***

That feeling never changed, not through dating moving from months to years, or moving in with him, or getting engaged… then married… and not even the stage you were at now. You were getting better; you could actually beat him at these games now – and Nolan was only ever impressed. He enjoyed it when you won as much as you did, because of how happy you were that you’d actually beat him – and the excitement on your face; the way you’d start screaming sentences when you were nearly there. Or how he’d manage to reign it back (even if you still won), and you’d scream “NO!” so loud he thought eventually someone might knock on the front door to see if you were okay. Luckily it’d never happened. Right now you were supposed to be helping him on a campaign, but you were much more interested in watching what he was doing and snacking. “Are you actually gonna help, or…? Cuz I can go back to single player if you’d rather.” “No.” You said through a mouthful of Chex, “I’ll help, just give me a second.” He chuckled, and you held up the bag to offer him one, which he thanked you for. Truth was at 7 months pregnant you’d rather sit here quietly, head in his lap and watch him. Whilst you were sitting eating and watching Nolan do all he could in the mission solo, you’d balanced the controller on your stomach and every so often, as your baby moved, the controller wiggled around on its precarious balance. But that only made you laugh. This position was at least comfortable for you; and usually you sat like this to watch movies too – where Nolan would cuddle you close and rest his hands over yours on your stomach; where his face became a lot more interesting than whatever you were watching. Nothing really compared to the way he lit up when your baby made a noticeable movement, and would pretend he wasn’t welling up – but you knew Nolan was, he couldn’t hide that from you – though he tried. However Sorrento accidently ran himself into the levels boss fight before you were ready; and to let you know something important was about to happen, the controller vibrated. “AH-!” You gasped which caused Nolan to jump, “Shit! Sorry!” But you laughed harder; “Not only was the vibration kinda startling…Ooh-! Okay! I don’t like you right now!” You took his hand and placed it over your stomach as you were given a third little kick; “Ooops!” He laughed, “And I’ve got you into a boss fight!” “Oops-!?” You folded your arms, “I should just let you die!! If this continues all night-!” Nolan cringed, “I’d really rather I didn’t die – besides if you get attacked that controller is only gonna vibrate more, you realise that-!?” Well, that made you pick it up pretty quick. “You are okay though, right?” “Yeah. I guess.” You grumbled, “If I can’t beat you, the baby will!” Nolan chuckled before scoffing; “Yeah, that I’d like to see-!” *** “THAT’S NOT FAIR!!” “Come on its two against one how is that not fair?” “THE COMPUTER IS HELPING YOU!” “Yeah and it’s pretty useless! You two should have this-!” “BUT IT ISN’T FAIIIIIIIIIIIR---!!” “What, you think I’m gonna let you win-!?” “REMATCH! PLAY FAIR THIS TIME!” “You’re on!” You were sorting a few things out in the upstairs bedrooms when you were met with yelling from the living room. You laughed to yourself; this was the kind of argument that had transferred from you and your husband, to your husband and your children. And Nolan was still the one winning. You walked out onto the landing; balcony overlooking the living room to watch them. Your two eldest boys were sitting on the floor, having clearly just lost another match, arms folded and sulking as they threw glares at your husband, sitting cross legged on the couch with your little girl – your youngest – curled up in his lap silently watching the whole thing. You couldn’t help but smile at the scene; just another weekend in the Sorrento household… “What are you guys doing!?” They all looked up at you “Dad’s cheating!” “What-!? I’m hardly even trying-!” That made both the boys gasp and look back to him; Nolan laughed like he’d just said something he shouldn’t have and grinned at you. You rolled your eyes, smiling, and made for the stairs, “Alright hold on I’m coming…” By the time you were downstairs they were seemingly settled again into another round, although even as you padded over you could see Nolan was probably going to get himself another win. There was a smile on his face that had only appeared since you’d had children, and his laugh this time was absentminded as they both ganged up on his character. For that he turned immediately to your daughter, and indicated to her which buttons to press to help him with the powered-up finishing move. Which had the boys yelling about cheating again and Nolan and her laughing at them. And for a minute you stood back, heart full watching them all. But especially Nolan – things had been hard at IOI for him lately, and it wasn’t exactly going as planned. But when he sat here with his children, it was like everything else was forgotten; he was laughing and happy, and you didn’t think you’d ever seen him this happy – not for a while – and he was relaxed. Today he was dad, not Sir, no matter how exasperatedly anyone was saying it. Your eldest spotted you in the corner and called you over; “Moooom! Can you beat him for us!?” They had heard of the famed times when you’d managed it, but it’d been a while. Nolan’s head swivelled and his eyes narrowed at you; “Oh! If you DARE--!!” You held your hands up; “Hey, I’m not taking sides-!” Nolan clapped as your boys groaned; “Ha! That’s my girl!” “Okay, Dad, one more round.” “Oh god, no, don’t you get sick of me beating you? I’m getting too old for this-!” Nolan chuckled, then he exited back to the games’ main menu to set up a multiplayer quest, handing the controller over to your daughter as you settled onto the sofa next to him. His voice lowered as he lifted her from his lap onto the floor; “Go on sweetheart – show ‘em how it’s done.” The controller was a little big in her hands but she beamed, “Play nice boys!” But he knew they would, as they lay on their fronts waiting for the game to load up again for them. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek gently; “I love you daddy!” “I love you too…” She ran off to join her brothers and he watched her go – that smile somehow bigger. You tsked “Such a daddy’s girl.” Nolan scoffed, but then agreed; “Yeah. Probably.” He held his arms out for you, watching the boys help their little sister with the controls for a moment with pride. You snuggled into him, head on his chest and he kissed your forehead – “I mean, of course I love you.” You giggled as he continued pressing kisses into your skin; “Oh that was never in doubt Nolan Sorrento!” You sat in silence for a moment – Nolan was watching the game play, and every so often would suggest strategy, as he’d used to do with you. You instead watched your kids help each other out on the floor, everyone content with life for now. Exactly how it should be, before you voiced your question, looking back to your husbands blue eyes; “Why don’t you let them win?” His smile was mysterious for a moment as he looked back to you; “Because one day they’ll beat me, and I’ll never win again!” then he grinned, “Besides, I like that they’re kinda in awe of me at the moment, and as long as I can keep that up and help them in the harder levels, I’d love to.” He placed his hand to his forehead to a moment; “…God, I’m dreading the day that don’t need me…” You shook your head, before placing a gentle kiss to his cheek; “Don’t say such silly things, they’ll always need you – you’re their father.” That smile was back, and Nolan pulled you closer to him for another kiss, before you heard the kids all cheering at beating another level and had to both laugh. Yes, for now all was right, and long may that continue.

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Thank you for requesting! Thank you for reading! 😘💜

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#There will never be enough Nolan Sorrento on my blog #Nolan Sorrento #Ben Mendelsohn #Ready Player One #Nolan Sorrento x Reader #Linzi Writes #Linzi Writes Requests #Smol Bean Drabbles #137 #This is kinda how I wanted to end him #Him her and 3 kids #Evie #Lorena V.

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jarofrebuke-transcripts · 4 years ago

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Jar of Rebuke Episode 5 Unofficial Transcript

Season 1 Episode 5: Perfect Attendance

INTRO

The following audio recording is classified documentation for Case [audio distortion] with the Enclosure. Unauthorized access to this information will lead to immediate intervention. Progress further if proper clearance has been given.

TODD

Hey Jared, it's Dr. Carmen. Listen, I know you asked to cash in on some of that paid time off you've got, but I wanted to let you know that I couldn't fulfill your request quite yet. There's one little thing I need you to look into for me first. There's some circulating rumors of a former teacher causing some trouble at the local school. I say former because she's been dead for about a hundred years or so. I don't know the exact details yet besides what Dr. Rahal heard- footprints with no source, flying clocks, startled janitors- you know the drill. So I need you to go and investigate. Since you're just so good with those little kiddos that come by your place at night, I figured you'd be even better with some actual kids. And since you've been doing a little personal community outreach, why not put that to use? Now go see what you can figure out and report back to me, then we can discuss that vacation time of yours. Oh, also you're welcome for the plumbing fixture, by the way. I know you've been too busy to stop by with a proper thanks, but I'm just glad we could get that all fixed up for you. Well, I'll keep an eye out for your report by the end of the week. See you around.

JARED

“Oh you're welcome for the plumbing fixture, by the way.” Oh, geez Louise, I literally never asked them to fix my plumbing. I called it- now he's gonna hold that over my head for gods-know-how long. I know that some folks say that being motivated by spite ain't the best way to live but it's a real hell of a motivator. I don't plan to delete this voicemail till I get that chat about time off because if I get brushed out about that PTO again after everything, I'm going to remind them that he guaranteed me a talk about it. I mean he normally sends me out over the dangerous stuff, but this was just tedious. More like Todd just wanted to send me out on an errand and just threw me out over the first thing that he could. I mean, considering that I drowned a few weeks ago, this was expected to be a bit of a piece of cake. While it wasn't life-threatening, it was annoying. And draining.

So today, I just so happened to bump into the principal of the local school. I know that she goes to the Chronicle Inn’s country store a lot, especially during her lunch breaks. So I went in the afternoon and spent some time there talking with Ester and Laura as I waited for her to arrive. Ester was wearing a really lovely dress and a floral apron, the pale pink accented her gray hair really nicely. And Laura was already in her denim overalls and plaid flannel. Apparently she was wanting to get some woodworking done in her workshop, but then she decided to stay in and help Ester out with managing the shop for the afternoon rush, you know, since all the folks started pouring in on their lunch breaks. And that afternoon rush was what I'd waited for because that's when Mrs. Anika Ralsh showed up. We haven't really ever talked much, just enough to get to know each other's names and general identities. So when she saw me she greeted me with a small smile and a wave. She asked how I'd been doing, you know, what I'd been up to, the usual. I had planned on how I was going to broach the subject of the haunting in the school considering that it's not exactly something that just, uh, comes up naturally in conversation. I needed to find some inconspicuous way to shift focus to, to that topic in a way that wouldn't trigger too many red flags. But then she dropped the bombshell on me!

She said that she'd spoken to Darius and that he mentioned that I had some curiosity with the supernatural, which was weird because I remember mentioning that passively to him like once when I panicked when he asked me what I do for a living. And that was a while ago. I'm shocked that he remembered. So I basically told her what I told him. Yeah, I'm a scientist who studies natural phenomena around here but I also have an interest in supernatural phenomena but that's more of a hobby. Which is a boldface lie, but far more acceptable than the truth. The script in my head of how the conversation would go was now entirely thrown off which did, in all honesty, throw me completely off my rhythm. But she actually got far more to the point than I would have planned to so I guess it worked for the best.

Anika said that she hadn't been sure who to reach out to about this, but when Darius had mentioned me she thought it'd be worth a shot to ask me to look into things. That there's a ghost of a deceased teacher that keeps stirring up trouble at the local school. It was a former teacher who taught fifth graders back in like the 80s or something like that. She taught up until the day she died, and she's rumored to still linger around. But she's been getting more disruptive than before and it's getting a bit out of hand. So, Anika asked me if I knew a way to get this ghost to calm down, but to not get rid of her. Apparently this Mrs. Alice Caller has been a part of the school community for so long that even if she scares or startles people sometimes they don't really want her gone. She startles the staff more than anything, the teachers and all that. But the students seem to get a kick out of it. Every building has their character after all, that's what Anika said. And I guess you could consider a haunting to be a splash of character.

Anyways, so yeah, after chatting for a bit and pretending that I had my knowledge of ghosts and hauntings due to at-home research and not my nine to five, even if it's more of a six to five. I told her I could investigate, but I'd probably want to do it when there weren't, you know, students in the halls? She'd asked if I was free literally that evening and considering Todd was basically holding my paid time off as hostage I said of course. I mean the sooner I got it done the sooner I could have some sort of vacation. As preemptive compensation, she bought me lunch which was really nice and told me to come by school after I finished eating. She took her food to go, but I stayed and ate there at the end and chatted with Ester and Laura a bit more. I also texted Darius and asked if he told Anika about my supernatural interests. He said yes and apologized if he shouldn't have told her but I said that it was fine, that I was mostly surprised that he'd remembered. I'd mentioned it a while back and we really don't ever talk about it, so the fact that he remembered... it was sweet. I mean especially considering I let him do most of the talking in conversation. He has a nice voice and tells really nice stories. I was flattered more than anything.

After I ate and played some mindless puzzle games on my phone I headed out towards the school. If I'd really wanted to I could have walked but I had driven to the end from my house anyways and had no reason to just leave my car behind. I got there a little before the last class ended and just went to the front office. After some light chit chat, I was given a tour. It was one floor, maybe like 13 classrooms in total. Not including the small computer lab, the gym, the restrooms or closets. I saw teachers wrapping up classes and students getting ready to head home. Nothing seemed off during the first walk through. She asked me when I got into tracking the supernatural and I told her about two years ago. Not a lie, I guess. She asked what I did for the Enclosure. “We don't really know what it is you all do, I guess we're just curious,” is what she'd said. I felt like she was reading every movement and microexpression in response to whatever my answer would be. I kind of panicked. I told her that I just keep tabs on the natural anomalies, animal behavior primarily. I told her I'm involved in monitoring wildlife just to make sure that the ecosystem is in balance and stuff like that. Then I quickly changed the topic because I know jack diddley about biology beyond the basics.

I got to talking to Anika about what's been happening, which was what Todd had said and then some. Flying clocks, footprints, and startled staff. But there were also a few other things as well. Things apparently turn on and off by themselves, like the janitor's vacuums or the lights. One time the cleaning staff heard some stuff moving around in an empty room and then when they investigated the room, apparently a bunch of desks got moved around and flipped over. Seems that this Mrs. Caller has also been knocking over projectors and has made things go missing, especially in the old classroom where she taught. After Anika showed me around the whole school, uh, greeting kids as classes let out, which, let me tell you, made me incredibly uncomfortable. Again, I'm not good with kids, so I just kind of gave awkward waves and half smiles to them. Anyways, after she showed me around and led me back to where Mrs. Caller's former classroom was, she asked if I needed anything before she'd go back to work and leave me to meander. Right before she walked away though she asked if I had any tools for the ghost hunting. I hate calling it that. I'm not hunting the ghosts or anything, I'm more just trying to communicate, check in and see what's going on. They don't always want to talk and I definitely respect that. I mean, heck, there's times I sure don't want to talk to people. I told her I mostly wanted to check out the place first. I would bring in my equipment from my car once all the students were gone. She asked if I needed to wait till night time and I told her that that's just a rumor. Paranormal investigations often happen at night because it's quieter from interruptions and easier to use the night vision. But if the ghost has been haunting during the day then it makes sense to investigate during the day as well.

So we walked back to the front door. She went into what I guess is her office and I went and grabbed my kit that I keep in my trunk. It's got an EMF sensor, a voice recorder, which is basically just a fancier version of what I use for these journal entries. An infrared thermometer, high power camera, other nifty little tools. Mostly the basics, they don't give me the heavy duty kit for assignments like these, of course. I made my way back to Mrs. Caller's former classroom and gave passing greetings to everyone that I passed and made eye contact with. Just a little smile and wave, asking how are you, as neither party planned for an extensive conversation. I got over there and introduced myself as I set up the equipment. I definitely felt something. I wasn't sure if it was her or not but with the way that it felt, well I felt more comfortable. It felt more familiar. So I told her my name, that I was there just to communicate and see if I could help calm her down at all. I explained what I was setting up and what all it would do. I felt my muscles relax as I just felt far more comfortable in this situation than being surrounded by students while talking to Anika. Nothing against Anika, I felt quite comfortable talking to her back at the restaurant. I think it was just the whole being surrounded by people thing. So I got everything set up and started to poke around the classroom. I started asking general questions, ones that I'm encouraged to ask based on protocol. What do you want, how did you die, why are you here? And so on. I hate those questions. What makes anyone think that those spirits would want to answer them anyway?

So after I got very little response I sat down on top of one of the desks crisscross applesauce, put the equipment down and just chatted. I asked how she was feeling. I apologized if it was bothersome being pestered with questions especially if she'd been primarily been being ignored, except for people prying. I asked why she lingered in her former classroom, like why this place? That was when a small frame holding up what looked like an obituary caught my attention, a hung up above the door, so I asked her about it. I heard some beeps from my pile of tools but I didn't need to pick it up. I knew that particular beeping. It wasn't an auditory reception, it was an energy spike. And I could feel the shift in… the atmosphere? The mood of the room? At first I just felt like I was being watched, but then I felt like it was more, um, that I was encroaching in someone else's living space. That I was somewhere that I shouldn't be or doing something that I shouldn't be doing. I slid myself off the desk and went to start gathering my supplies, but then the feeling went away. Seems like she'd just been upset that I was sitting with my feet up on the desk like that. So I muttered an apology and just made my way over towards the door to take a closer look at the obituary. It felt like something was practically breathing down the back of my neck. Not literally, but, I don't know. I could just feel it there. I turned around slowly and saw, unsurprisingly, nothing. But I knew in my gut that she was right there.

Then what scared me more than anything was that the classroom door flew open behind me. Not enough to slam on the wall or anything, but enough to make a sound. It was just some student who apparently left her notebook behind her something. She couldn't have been more than, what ,13? She was sweet, asked what I was doing back there. I told her a half truth, which is pretty much just my life at this point. I told her I was investigating on behalf of Mrs. Ralsh, which in my opinion is not a lie, just not the whole truth. She then went on to tell me about an experience that her dad had last year. Apparently her dad is one of the school janitors that had an incident early one morning when he'd come to clean up the place during the weekend. He was helping wax the floors in the halls by the back door, and at some point he turned to see footprints in the wax finishing on the tile. Her dad got pretty freaked out since he knew that he did not hear or see anyone walk by and the footprints were all too small to be his. He followed the footprints to the back door. He tried the handle but the door was locked, it was a door that needed a key to be unlocked. So he used his key to open the door and discovered footprints leading from the door to the direction of the town's cemetery, which wasn't too far away. The same cemetery that Mrs. Caller was buried in. I asked her if her dad had experienced anything else since then with Mrs. Caller, and she said that he's seen loads of stuff. But normally he sees the aftermath, like he has to clean up the messes that she makes if the other teachers can't for whatever reason. So I thanked her, she grabbed her things, and then she wished me luck before she hurried out.

So once again I stood alone in the classroom. Well, alone besides the presence of Mrs. Caller, which was definitely still strong. Maybe it was a bit smarmy of me, but I asked her, “now why would the girl wish me luck?” I was told that Mrs. Caller isn't aggressive towards people but she definitely wants her presence to be known, and I guess she didn't like the idea of the disrespect in my tone in her own classroom. Suddenly there was a blur in front of me and the sound of shattering glass, the framed obituary that hung above the door had been knocked off the wall and landed practically at my feet, which made me jump instinctively. Thankfully my boots are sturdy enough that I didn't have to worry too much about getting hurt from the glass, but I noticed that there was something tucked behind the obituary in the frame. My hands are already fairly scarred up from work and I don't think the nerve endings in my fingertips really work as well as they used to, so I kind of just reached down without thinking. I brushed away the glass and picked up the paper so that I could examine it.

The obituary itself was hardly remarkable, exactly what I'd expect from a beloved school teacher who passed away many many years ago. But what was behind it was odd. An old Enclosure business card. I still have it with me. It looks probably as old as the obituary, if not older. It's the same general logo but it doesn't look as modern, as if they've updated it since then. The colors aren't as bright, aren't as jarring. But something about it made my stomach twist. It felt wrong, not like the uncanny valley wrong, but just I don't like looking at it. I pocketed the business card and carefully put the obituary on the desk. I asked what Mrs. Caller was trying to tell me, but the energy felt... tired? Strained? A little concerned. I asked for literally any other message, any other sign, anything that could be helpful with whatever this, this business card is. Then I saw chairs in the classroom start to move. Instead of them all being pushed into desks they were all shifted as if whoever was seated in the chairs were all facing me. I was the focus at that point. It suddenly felt like I was being watched far more intensely than I've been in a haunting situation. It was like I was standing in front of a crowd who were all watching me with narrowed, scrutinizing eyes. At first I just gave a huff and said “oh haha, very funny”. But then, the smell of something sweet. It was... it was a mild smell, not like anything I've ever smelled before, but as soon as that smell hit my senses my chest hurt and my stomach churned. I looked back at the obituary on the desk and saw Mrs. Caller's smiling face, then looked up to see the words “do your homework” written on the whiteboard in neat handwriting and one of the markers uncapped on the little storage ledge thing. So I told her, okay, I would, but I had to leave. I felt sick, which has never happened in a situation like this before. I normally have a gut of steel but something about that sweet smell just shook me to my core. I hurriedly capped the marker, wiped off the whiteboard, and then rushed over and started to power down my equipment that I hardly even used. I have been chased, drowned, attacked, and so many worse, worse things than having empty chairs turned to face me, but my heart was thudding in my chest and my palms started to sweat. I needed to leave. The sweet smell still lingered and I couldn't stand it!

I packed up my equipment and just got out of there. As I made my way back towards the front door I knew I couldn't be seen by anyone like that, I couldn't stand the idea of anyone's eyes on me at that point. I ducked into the bathroom, I tucked myself into a stall. I put my box down on the floor and just sat on the toilet before I just... stared at my hands. My scarred, now nicked-with-glass fingers, the creases in my palms, the swirl of my fingertips. I just reminded myself that I was there. The sweet smell was replaced by the smell of cleaning supplies and other musty smells. While it wouldn't normally be a pleasant smell it was far better than whatever I had smelled previously. After a few deep breaths I finally stood up and started to prepare to leave. That was when my bathroom stall flew open to reveal... nobody. It was more like Mrs. Caller was telling me to skedaddle on home and get working on my homework. I don't know why I couldn't fully see her like the ghost set the Chronicle Inn, but I could surely feel her presence strongly enough.

I'll admit I got a little huffy with her. I told her it was rude to barge into a stall like that and I was getting ready. Considering I hadn't actually used the bathroom, I just grabbed my stuff and headed out. Thankfully I made it to the front entrance without really catching anyone's attention. I was actually even able to slip by the front door without anyone noticing me, or at least they didn't call out to me. I felt a little bad without saying goodbye to Anika, especially after only being there for like, what, an hour? But I just wanted to get home. And now I'm home. And what was my homework? Well I decided to look more into this Alice Caller. She had a husband who passed away not long before she did. The husband worked in town and apparently had some ties with the Enclosure. Not an employee, they don't really hire townsfolk. But seemingly a friend of a former employee. I did hours of digging after I got home and found a mention in a newspaper of him and a Dr. Severin Kelder. I don't know why that name stuck out to me, but it did. I don't know if I've seen it on a research file before, or what. But I'm going to look more into it when I have my work computer at the lab tomorrow. Maybe Mrs. Caller saw the Enclosure logo on my equipment or something? But why was that business card even there? This business card isn't even for a particular person. I mean, it has a phone number on it but no name. I don't recognize the number and when I looked through my roster of numbers it didn't match anything. So perhaps, it was an older, no longer used number? Also, Todd said that Mrs. Caller died like a hundred years ago. Well, if this business card from the Enclosure was there, then that's impossible. The Enclosure settled here in like the 1930s. I think Todd was just exaggerating. Also both Anika and the obituary said that she taught and then died in like the 80s, so, whatever. Not that that really matters.

I put the old Enclosure business card away in the back of one of my drawers. I don't want to look at it anymore than I have to, it reminds me of that sweet smell in the classroom and I hate it. I normally love sweets and sweet smelling things, but something about that particular smell, it… I don't know. It triggers flight or fight down to my very core. Even if I know logically that I'm safe. [shivers] Just thinking about it is sitting me on pins and needles. Oh gods, and I didn't even tell anyone about the broken glass. A janitor probably had to clean it up. Totally forgot. Now I feel like a jerk... should I send an apology? Should I call in the morning?

[tapping sounds] Oh, I hear you! But you're not coming in, not after last time! I don't want to have to replace my couch again. I told you to just please, please leave me alone. Why'd you even want in my place so bad? There's other houses for you to knock on! [takes a deep breath] They're just kids, Jared. They're just doing whatever it is that they do. There is no need to shout at them. They don't know better. Sorry! I'm gonna stop the research for tonight and get some rest, I've stayed up way too late and I think that the black-eyed children are drawn to my house due to the fact that my lights are still on. I'm gonna call Anika in the morning and see if I could come back Friday after school, have the place relatively to myself, examine a bit further. It also gives me time between now and then to do some more research. I know Todd wanted the files on his desk by the end of the week, but I could always go in Friday afternoon and drop off the files Saturday. Still at the end of the week, he never specified what day. So, till next time, I guess. This is Dr. Jared Hel, signing off.

OUTRO

Jar of Rebuke is written and produced by Casper Oliver, who is also the voice of Dr. Jared Hel. Dr. Todd Carmen is voiced by Conrad Miszuk. The intro is read by Vanessa Rosengrant, and credits are read by Ashley Craft, who has created the podcast official graphics. Music was created by Luke Menniss, spelled m-e-n-n-i-s-s, who you can find and support on Bandcamp, Spotify and Twitch. Find us on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter for updates. You can support us on Patreon or Podhero by following the links in our episode description. And special thanks to our patreon supporters Becky Thompson, Perry Bruns, Tristan Fraud, Nico Allen and Devin Wright.

#jar of rebuke #jar of rebuke podcast #jor podcast #jar of rebuke transcripts

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detectivejigsawpines · 5 years ago

Text

Abyss-part 2 (An [un]happy Pines family reunion)

Ford was impressed; he’d never seen anyone go from standing still to running in that short of a timespan before.

In what seemed like only the blink of an eye Stan went from being frozen on the porch to halfway to the woods.

Unfortunately for him, Dan had played football and done some wrestling in high school, and he was still in shape enough (well duh, this was the guy whose nickname was well on the way to changing from “Boyish” to “Manly”) to appear out of nowhere-actually from the side of the house where Ford had suggested he wait-and bring Stan down with a flying tackle.

“TRAITOR!” Stan roared, trying unsuccessfully to throw the lumberjack off, “If I had a will and you were in it, I’d disinherit you!”

“Sorry man,” Dan rumbled, “but Ford’s payin’ me fifty bucks.”

Stan snarled out a few impressive curses at both of them as he struggled to regain his freedom.

Ford approached cautiously, maneuvering until his brother could see him, but staying out of his reach just in case.

“Stanley, listen.” He knelt until they were more or less at eye level. “I promise, I didn’t expect or want this to happen. But since it is happening, I think it would be best for everyone if you don’t run away.”

“So whaddya want me to do?!” Stan demanded furiously. “Cuz if you’re expectin’ me to be nice ta that money-grubbing bast-”

“No! I’m not saying you have to be nice to him at all!”

His brother blinked. “...Come again?”

Ford sighed, chewing his lip and adjusting his glasses while he worked out how to say what he wanted to say. “What Dad did to you was-unforgivable. And I don’t know if telling him that would make any difference or help him to realize that he was wrong, but I-feel-” it was a weird thing to think about, what he felt was a good decision instead of what he thought- “that you need to find...closure with him. Even if it’s by punching him in the sunglasses, or telling him to go to hell. It probably won’t change anything, but-” he struggled for the right words again- “...maybe it will be good for you to get it all off your chest.”

Stan’s expression was still tense and unhappy...but it had become less hostile. He stopped trying to escape from Dan, who, at Ford’s nod, allowed him to sit up.

By now the car was almost to the house; as they all stood and watched it approach, Ford realized that a) it was Shermie’s car, b) their brother himself was driving, and therefore c) the figure in the passenger seat was most likely their father.

Probably made Shermie drive him and Mom here so they wouldn’t have to pay for bus fare.

“How the heck did he call us if he was driving?” Stan asked, frowning.

“He called from a payphone when they stopped to get gas in town.” Ford swallowed, wishing that would somehow get rid of the rock that had dropped into the pit of his stomach, or the clamminess of his hands. “Figured a few minutes of warning was better than no warning at all.”

“How considerate of him,” Stan muttered, before turning on his heel and marching towards the house. He slammed the door shut just as the car pulled to a stop in the driveway.

Ford sighed and pulled out a handful of cash, pressing it into Dan’s hand.

“Thank you. You should go home now.”

“You sure?” Dan rumbled.

“Yes. This is a private family matter.”

“Fair enough.” Dan nearly knocked him down with a hard pat on the shoulder. “Lemme know if you guys need to come and get drunk when it’s all over or something.”

Ford managed a thin smile, before swallowing down his nervousness and approaching his family.

********

The first one out was Mom. As soon as she shut the car door behind her, she rushed over and pulled her son in for a hug.

“Stanford! It’s good ta see you, honey. Sorry we dropped in like this, but...Filbrick insisted. Thought it was high time we come see what our boy’s been up to out here in the woods.”

Shermie was next, giving him an apologetic grimace over the top of the car before coming over and patting his shoulder as Mom finally released him.

“Hey, Ford.”

And then the man himself was out, face expressionless-but with an almost tangible aura of anger sizzling in the air around him.

Ford nodded to him, and swallowed. “Pa.”

“Stanford.” Pa leaned against the car, arms folded, in his ‘I’m waiting for an explanation’ pose.

For a moment the little group stood frozen in a small mosaic, waiting to see who would make the next move. Ford kind of hoped that Stanley would come out and help him to get this over with...but there was no sign of his twin. So at last he swallowed and decided to change the subject that hadn’t even been brought up.

“...How long are you planning to be in town for?”

“Just for the night,” Mom said apologetically. “...Is it all right if we stay here? I know the timing’s not the best, but-”

“No, that’s fine-” a lie, but honesty was the best policy except when it wasn’t, which was often- “you know you’re always welcome, Mom.”

Taking that as his cue, Pa went around to the back of the car and pulled out their bags, handing two of them off to Shermie, who came around to help. And, feeling more than a little helpless, Ford led all of them inside.

To his surprise, when he opened the door he saw that the living room had become almost-spotlessly clean.

Ah. Good call, Stanley.

His experiment with trying to create the equivalent of an electric current using unicorn hair had been cleared away; all the books that were until recently on the floor were neatly stacked on the shelves; the giant thumb coffee table was covered with a blue sheet that was clearly meant to be a makeshift tablecloth, so it just looked like an oddly-shaped, lumpy table. Nothing at all supernatural or out of the ordinary was in sight. And Stan was just now coming down the stairs, carrying an armful of Ford’s papers and a bottle of cleaning spray in his other hand.

“Hey, Mom, hey, Shermie.” The deliberate snub was not lost on Ford-nor, if the clenching of his jaw was anything to go by, on Pa. “Just tryna clean up for you-we don’t get a lotta visitors, so this lazy slob just leaves his stuff everywhere.” He gestured at Ford with the cleaning spray.

Mom managed a halfhearted laugh. “That’s all right, Stanley.” Then, without preamble she rushed over and pulled him into her arms. “My goodness, you’ve gotten so big! What’ve you been eating ta make you so tall, hmm?”

“Grizzly bears,” Stan quipped, wrapping his free arm around her as much as possible and squeezing for all he was worth. Ford realized that this was the first hug he’d gotten from their mother in years; the thought made his throat become unexpectedly tight.

And then Pa’s hand landed hard on Ford’s shoulder, and his father was saying, “We need ta talk, boy. Now.”

Shermie let out an annoyed sound. “Dad, can you not-”

“It’s okay,” Ford assured him. And he led his father to the room where his secret passage to the basement was so they could have a little privacy in case either of them started shouting.

****

“I’m surprised at you, Stanford,” Pa said as soon as the door shut. “I thought you’d finally come ta your senses and got rid of that dead weight, and suddenly you just out of the blue decided ta let him move in?” His eyes probably narrowed, but it was hard to tell behind his sunglasses. “How much is he payin’ ya for rent?”

“Wha-” Ford stammered over his words. “He’s not paying me anything!”

“Well he should be!” Pa snapped. “He should be actually doin’ somethin’ ta earn his keep, instead o’ livin’ off all your hard work! You’re falling back into the same patterns, boy, and if you insist on keepin’ him around for whatever-the-heck reason it’s gonna ruin you-”

“Actually, Pa,” Ford said venomously, “Stan’s been the one providing most of the income between the two of us. He’s started up a very successful tour business-”

“Tour business?! In a podunk town like this?!” The old man scoffed. “If you believe that, then you’ve been had.” He loomed over Ford, prodding him in the chest with one thick finger. “I’m only gonna warn you once, Stanford: that idiot’s a bad influence, and he’ll bring you nothing but trouble. Get rid of him.”

And he marched out of the room like he owned the place.

Ford clenched his fists, trying to stop the moisture from rising in his eyes and feeling a wave of shame overtake him when he couldn’t.

He’s not a bad influence! he wanted to shout at the top of his lungs. Stan’s a far better person than you’ll ever be, you jerk, and if you’d listen to me just once I’d tell you that!

But he’d had his moment to defend Stanley from their father’s accusations, and he’d lost it.

********

Don’t be too hard on yourself, Ford. Standing up to parents is scary.

#flipside au #gravity falls #stan pines #ford pines #filbrick pines is a jerk #filbrick pines #caryn pines #shermie pines #awkward reunion #unhappy reunion #dan corduroy

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johannesviii · 5 years ago

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Top 12 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 2000

This was the hardest list to make so far, so yeah, it’s a top twelve because I felt disgusting cutting the last two songs. Oh well. Screw the rules.

I turned 12 that year! I had my own cd player, which was also a radio! I could make tapes and burn cds. I could even BUY cds too if I saved all my money for a couple of months! School wasn’t great, because of some bullies, but I still had some friends. I loved Pokemon and drawing in the park. Life felt good.

Music had never sounded better.

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will be stuff in French. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

Not gonna lie, this list changed A LOT over the course of this post and I had to rearrange it several times. And then I gave up and changed it into a top 12. Also, this list of honorable mentions could almost make it a top 20 since several of these (half of them, actually) were on the top at some point.

All the small things (Blink 182) - I’m really glad these guys are still around today, to be honest. They always make me smile when I hear their new songs on the radio.

The Riddle (Gigi d’Agostino) - Love it, but it loses some of its appeal without the music video.

Lady (Modjo) - I claim overplay for this cut.

L’Alizé (Alizée) - More on that later.

Move your body (Eiffel 65) - Would have made the list in a more mediocre year, I swear.

Optimistique-moi (Mylène Farmer) - I literally said “self-care” before making this cut. Also the music video is great, it’s an artist trying to escape from some sort of nightmare circus, and a magician helps her. Very underrated music video.

Music (Madonna) - The most painful cut of all. I absolutely loved this song and how weird and disjointed and broken it sounded, and had it on several tapes. And yet there’s no room for it even with a top 12.

And now, the actual list. Warning: it starts with a curveball.

12 - J’pète les plombs (Disiz La Peste)

US: Not on the list / FR: #29

A French rap song about a guy losing his job and being stuck in traffic and subsequently going postal.

Here’s the kicker, though. This guy was rapping for my city, and this music video was filmed mostly in the estate I was living in at the time! That McDonalds at the beginning? It was across the street! That bus stop was in front of high school! Heck, I painted the rocks in that park at the end several times already!

And it became a huge hit!! You have no idea how excited we were in middle school. Everyone knew the lyrics (translation here)! Even if some parts were very rude! We still loved it! We were quoting the entirety of the McDonalds part where the guy wants an egg in his sandwich and is ready to fire a harpoon to get it. “Désolé, il est midi et après midi eh ben l’mac morning c’est fini” was a goddamn meme here.

It would probably have been less funny if the singer didn’t look like a cute nerd, it turns the music video into a hilarious parody. Especially because instead of a gun, he’s menacing people with a harpoon, a giant wooden hammer and a water pistol.

Legends only.

11 - One More Time (Daft Punk)

US: Not on the list / FR: #30

Around the World was a repetitive song, and while I kinda liked it, I didn’t quite get the hype around it at the time. But One More Time is a huge party, and everybody is invited, and all the drama stays at the door, and everyone just has a great time. And it has one of the most fitting music videos ever.

It’s a monster of a song, and even if it’s still a bit too repetitive to be listened to on a loop, it was a delight everytime it was on the radio. And it still is! Godspeed, Daft Punk.

10 - Innamoramento (Mylène Farmer)

US: Not on the list / FR: #91

I really, really tried to keep her off the list. And I failed. Innamoramento, the album, is one of my favorite albums of one of my favorite French artists ever and I’m weak, and out of the five (five) singles out of that album, I only managed to leave two out of my top 10 lists.

This sounds absolutely fantastic. There’s no way I could kick it off the list, even to make room for a guy who was rapping for my estate. And not even for goddamn Daft Punk.

Kill me now.

9 - Absolutely (Nine Days)

US: #35 / FR: Not on the list

I discovered this song in 2008 through a Silent Hill 3 AMV about Heather. Yeppppp. It’s here, and it’s still great 11 years later, and I love it, and this song was so good I put it on my playlist immediately and it stayed on it for several years.

The lyrics never really deliver their promise of telling a “story”, but it’s still a fantastic, bouncy, uplifting song, and it made my world better, and I have to thank that ephemeral band for that.

And I especially loved the very brief pause before the last “girl” in the song. Very relatable.

8 - J’en rêve encore (De Palmas)

US: Not on the list / FR: #27

Listen. I have no idea what’s up with these specific chords, but they are the sound of a weird mix of nostalgia, anger and above all, discomfort. No other song has the exact colors this one has and no other broadcasts this very specific mixed feeling.

Too bad the lyrics are yet another breakup song, or more specifically a post-breakup song (even if the lyrics are very, very good ; I just checked who wrote them and it’s Jean-Jacques Goldman. I had no idea but now, I can definitely hear it), because the music is really something else. At least to me. Is anyone else hearing this?

7 - The Real Slim Shady (Eminem)

US: #51 / FR: #28

Wow. Would you look at that. The ex angsty angry teenager loved Eminem. What a surprise, uh.

To be honest, I already genuinely liked this song as a kid even if I could only understand a few isolated parts and words, and the fact that this guy was pissed off and clearly being offensive, possibly towards everyone, was enough.

Now that I can understand the lyrics entirely, I obviously don’t endorse all of them (like the very backhanded argument for gay marriage. Jesus), but I can’t help it, this song still kicks ass. It would be dishonest to leave it out of the list. I loved it so much at the time. And I still enjoy it a lot.

6 - Natural Blues (Moby)

US: Not on the list. Not on any US year-end list actually. I thought it was big everywhere but no. What happened. / FR: #49

There’s overplay, and then there’s “I keep hearing this song everywhere and yet I can never get enough of it, and I will sing it at school, and I will put it on tapes, and I will listen to it even when it’s not on the radio.”

If you asked me what the year 2000 sounded like, it sounded like Natural Blues. I genuinely can’t believe it’s not on the US year-end chart.

5 - Around the World (ATC)

US: Not on the list / FR: #48

This has no right being this catchy without ever, ever becoming annoying. What kind of evil pact did you make to get this result. How.

4 - Jeune et Con (Saez)

US: Not on the list / FR: #70

The title is “Young and Stupid”. It’s an extremely angry song against the establishment. Didn’t pay a lot of attention to it when it came out because well, I was 12, but I would drink up this kind of angry, angsty song only three/four years later. It has aged like fine wine too and feels like the ultimate ‘Ok Boomer’ song ; here’s a translation. It is brutal. You’re welcome.

If I had better taste this would be above the next two songs.

3 - Daddy DJ (Daddy DJ)

US: Not on the list / FR: #5

As I said in the intro, I started to BUY music that year. I could pick what I wanted to own, as long as my parents thought the cds were appropriate.

So I went to the nearest record store. It was called “Madison” and had a chrome aesthetic, with neons and fluorescent 90s shit everywhere, and banners with band names on it, and somewhat menacing posters (the Iron Maiden ones looked scary). It was very intimidating.

And so, 12 years old Johannes, under dad’s supervision, picked the cd they wanted above all the other cds in the shop knowing THAT one wouldn’t make anyone angry at home, went towards the desk, slapped a lot of coins on it, and bought this, trying to look as fierce and determined a 12 y.o can, which isn’t much.

It still slaps nearly twenty years later and I don’t regret a single thing. That’s all I have to say about Daddy DJ by Daddy DJ.

So I was making this list, feeling pretty good about putting Mylène Farmer so low on it, and I was like oh wow, I genuinely love all these other songs more than the two she released that year! This feels great. This is healing. This is progress. It also means the most controversial things on the list are a nerd threatening people with a water pistol and Eminem spouting his usual bullshit empty provocations. No big deal. It’s okay! Moving on.

What was the French #1 for that year, by the way? I can’t rememb-

OH SHIT OH F█CK

OH NO

2 - Moi Lolita (Alizée)

US: Not on the list / FR: #1

Meet the new boss. Same as the old boss.

Mylène Farmer wrote this for Alizée. Screw the entire universe. I want her off my lists but I can’t because I need to make them honestly.

“I’m not a sucker, I never bought the album AND I never bought these singles in a SHOP, I got them in a garage sale the next year for less that a quarter of the price”, says the person who is, in fact, clearly and definitely a sucker.

How can a song be so horribly catchy and horribly controversial at the same time. HOW. It’s unfair. For some context about how controversial this is if you’re an English speaker, this is what would happen if Bad Guy by Billie Eilish was the catchiest shit in the world. This was almost #1 on my list before I noticed my actual #1 song made it pretty high on the French year-end list despite being mysteriously absent from the US one.

Also I’m glad the music video provides a mostly harmless context: this girl is supposed to babysit her little sister, but she went dancing in a club. And the little sister is looking after her instead. I’m saying “mostly” harmless because there’s that creepy guy who keeps watching her, as if the story was saying “you should not do this and you are putting yourself in danger and this will end horribly”. Which is a sentiment I can definitely get behind, and at the time, I was already highly skeptical about the message this song was sending even if I loved it. I’m just judging that through the comments I was writing next to it on my “favorite songs” lists (”leave your little sister out of this, Alizée”):

Bonus: most relatable comment on the video by a mile.

Same, my dude.

This is why the first album I bought was Daddy DJ and not that one or, uh, the next one.

1 - Stan (Eminem)

US: Not on the list either?? What happened. Why / FR: #18

This song actually created a new English verb. Think about that for a second.

Also, until the end of my life, I will wonder why people suddenly decided, a couple of years ago, than “to stan” now meant “admiring a lot and being a huge fan of” instead of “being a creepy obsessed stalker and possibly dangerous”.

Anyhow.

I couldn’t understand one tenth of the lyrics at the time this was a hit, but I still sneakily put it on my tapes. I knew my parents disapproved. Oh, I liked it. I loved it. I adored it.

I was also terrified of it.

One of the only lines I clearly understood with my limited English was the “I’m your biggest fan” line, and how increasingly dangerous the guy sounded, and that Eminem was trying to answer him at the end but it was too late and he had already done some horrible shit.

This is a horror story in song form, it stays with you long after it’s over every time you listen to it, and it’s a rare and precious thing.

I’m still genuinely terrified after all these years, though.

Next up: another mix of embarrassing shit and valid stuff

#Johannes’ bad not good pretty terrible music lists #music #long post #eye contact tw

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holyfuckthisfishcandrive · 5 years ago

Text

Broken Glass Diamonds; Chapter Two

Word count: 2460

Warning: A bit of swearing, talk about death

Description: Roman spends his second day at the hotel and makes a friend.

Chapter One AO3

Chapter two

When Roman came down for breakfast the next morning the old lady was wearing a fur coat a la Cruella De Vil with three cats all over her and the punk couple had abandoned their half finished food in favour of making out with eachother. Roman decided to watch the cats and not the punks this time.

Just as he finished his second toast Julian plopped down on the chair next to him making Roman jump.

"When the fuck did you get here?" he blurted.

"Doesn't matter," Julian waved off and put a piece of paper onto the table infront of Roman.

"What's that?"

"Schedule."

"What schedule?"

Julian raised an eyebrow at him.

"Your schedule. So you know where to be and when for the first two weeks. After that the schedules will be hung up on the blackboard but none of you know where the blackboard is yet so I get to play mail man. Yay."

"Oh," Roman said feeling a bit stupid.

"You gonna drink that coffee?" Julian asked pointing at his cup.

"Er... No? It's even worse than the stuff my brother makes which is quite a feat cause he does it without coffee powder. I'm not even sure this can legally be called coffee," Roman gave the dark liquid a little swirl or at least tried to. He had expected it to move like water rather than chunky honey.

"Can I have it?" Julian asked.

"Did you listen to a single thing I said?" Roman shot back.

"Yeah, and you said that you weren't going to drink it," the teen shrugged and began drumming on the table with his nails. "So can I have it? Please? She won't let me get anymore for myself."

He gestured at the young woman who had distributed the food the night before and now kept watch over the breakfast buffet.

"Why not?" Roman asked confused.

"Some bullshit about how 'twenty cups are too much' and 'that stuff will kill you'. So, can I have yours or not? I need it!"

"You've had twenty cups already?"

"Twenty-two. Not the point."

Roman stared at Julian for a few moments. He was aware that other people were different but he knew from experience that he himself was vibrating with energy after just two cups of coffee (though that might also be because he rarely drank it in the first place) but the teen infront of him looked far from energised. In fact Roman wouldn't be surprised if he were to pass out from exhaustion at any moment.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"If never been okay for once in my life," Julian replied deadpan.

Roman slid the cup over to him and picked up the schedule while the teen downed the coffee in one glup.

"What time is it?" he asked, seeing that he was supposed to be somewhere at 8:45.

"Half past eight, time to get the fuck out of here. Good luck," Julian jumped up and fled out of the room with one glance back to the food counter.

Roman turned to see the young woman come over to his table. Now that she was close enough he could read her name tag too. Sarah Miles.

"Did you give him coffee?" she asked.

"Uh, yes."

Sarah sighed.

"If one of his mum's asks I am so throwing you under the bus, just so we're clear," she said pointedly and shuffled back to the buffet.

Roman watched her go and decided to unpack that later. He had fifteen minutes to get where ever he was supposed to go and depending on whether the elevator decided to work or not he'd probably have to hurry.

On the schedule it just said garage as meeting point and after a quick stop by the counter Roman had found out that apparently whoever had written it had no idea what the difference between a garage and a basement were.

So he took the elevator down.

It slowly came to a stop and for the first time in the time he had used it a few strained notes of a melody came out of the speakers. It reminded him of something one might hear in a horror movie. Was this the beginning of one and he was some stupid guy who just ignored all the red flags until some masked psycho either kidnapped him or stabbed him?

The elevator stopped and opened just enough for him to get his hands through and push the doors open. As soon as he was through it went up again.

Roman found himself standing in a giant hall, at least the size of three football fields, with a group of people. The other applicants. He could feel their eyes on him, seizing him up and there was a hostility in the air. In here every one wanted to achieve but only few could. Everyone was a rival.

Roman kept his head high as he walked away from the elevator. He couldn't show weakness. Suddenly he was glad that Julian had insisted he kept the clothes and he understood why the teen had told him that they'd tear him apart.

"Hello!" a voice cut through the room. Roman looked up startled and noticed a young man, standing on a podium. "Everyone should be here by now, so, let's begin! My name is Thomas and I welcome all of you to this years T.L.I.H. program!"

Compared to the tense atmosphere among the applicants Thomas' cheery mood seemed out of place.

"There are a lot of you though and my job is to water it down quite a bit until next month, so I'm gonna have to be a bit hard on you. If you can't keep up, that's perfectly fine. Listen to your bodies and when you can't, you can't. Just getting where you are now is an impressive feat and there's no shame in quitting."

Roman caught a few angry whispers. Apparently he wasn't the only one who couldn't allow himself to fail.

"Let's start with one of those good old ice breaker games so I can get to know you a little bit," Thomas continued. "Everyone who wants to become a hero; do fifty push-ups!"

The entire group obliged as a unit.

Thomas chuckled. "Yeah, that was expected. Believe it or not last year I actually had one who didn't. A bit weird to sign up if you don't want to become a hero, right?"

Nobody answered him.

Roman could have, the push-ups weren't too bad but he decided to save his breath. This was only the beginning after all.

Somewhere to his left someone dropped down, panting.

"Are you alright back there?" Thomas asked. "Like I said, there's no shame in quitting."

The guy sat up slowly, gasping for air, while all around him people finished up and stood up again.

Thomas jumped down from the podium. "Everyone who has a driver's license; twenty jumping jacks, please!"

Roman watched most of the others jump. There were only a handful of people standing still like he was.

He watched Thomas saunter over to the guy that was still panting and quietly talk to him until the guy nodded and stumbled towards the elevator. He was extremely bony, with absolutely no visible muscle and Roman wondered how he had expected to pass in the first place.

His eyes landed on a chubby person near the back and he wondered how quickly they would fail.

"Now, everyone who thinks pineapple doesn't belong on pizza! Fifty seven sit-ups!"

Thomas went on like that for a long time, asking the most trivial questions, but when he finally stopped he was the only person in the room that hadn't broken a sweat.

Except for the guy at the beginning nobody else had left.

"Take a little break everyone. Drink something," Thomas sat down at the edge of the podium and gestured over to a few water fountains, that Roman could have sworn hadn't been there before. "That was interesting! And now will probably be your only chance in a while to ask some questions, so if you got any; Shoot!"

"Who the fuck are you?" someone yelled.

"Language!" the cubby dude Roman had expected to quit scolded.

"Yeah, no excessive swearing please. And to answer your question, I already introduced myself, didn't I? But maybe you want more details," he leaned back on his arms a little. "My name is Thomas Sanders, I have a superpower and some of you might have already heard of me under a different name, that I'm sadly not allowed to tell you. Secret identity, you know?"

"Why did you send that guy earlier home? Maybe he has a power that makes up for the fact that he's not top fit?" someone else asked.

"Oh-kay, that's a bit more serious," Thomas took a breath. "Because, you see, it doesn't really matter what your powers are. Hear me out! For most abilities there are ways to neutralise them. Heck, I know some who's ability is to block powers! What I'm getting at is that you'll need to be able to be heroes even without superpowers. That's what this program is for. We can't let people who aren't prepared out there. Too many have died because they went into the fight without preparation, thinking that they could just make up for it with their powers."

The group had fallen silent.

"A few were lucky and made it but it's too high a risk," Thomas concluded. "I told that to him as well and he chose to go home. I didn't send him away. That's not how this works. This training is for you to train. To learn. But if you can't, you can't and that's perfect alright. It's better to give up and be a bit disappointed in yourselves than dead. You signed up for one of the most dangerous jobs there is but you still have the chance to back out. Whether you take that chance or not is your choice."

Roman looked around the group. A few looked unsure, some determined, others conflicted.

Was this seriously new to some of these people? Had they never read a newspaper or listed to the radio? There were less reports on hero deaths these days, thanks to the hero organisations but they still happened from time to time.

"Anyway," Thomas clapped his hands together, "I hope everyone took the opportunity to drink cause we still have some stuff to do before I can release you for lunch! Who wants to show off their abilities in hand to hand combat a bit? And no, no powers until I say so!"

When Thomas announced that it was time for lunch, hours later, Roman was drenched in sweat and holding a pack of frozen blueberries against a bruise on his cheek.

As it turned out the 'chubby dude', who had introduced themselves as Patton, was strong enough to lift him in the air and slam him down on the mats again. They had apologized repeatedly and had gotten him the blueberries and a water bottle, so Roman guessed they were cool.

This time, with all the candidates present, the dining room was filled to the brim. It was still pretty quiet, with most people out of breath, exhausted or simply so hungry that they didn't want to waste any time on talking. Roman fell somewhere in the middle of the categories.

Patton sat down next to him.

"It's weird to see this room so full," they said.

"Yeah," Roman found himself agreeing before their words fully registered. "Wait, you've been here before?"

"Of course! I've been staying at the hotel since yesterday afternoon!" Patton smiled brightly.

"So have I," Roman said flatly. "How come we didn't meet during dinner or breakfast?"

Patton shrugged. "Dunno. When did you eat? I was told that dinner started at nine but wasn't sure till when so I came at nine."

"I was told that it'd start at eight," Roman frowned. "I ate at eight."

"Hmm," Patton made with a frown. "I understand if you'd rather use your break for something else, but... Wanna try and find out what's the deal with that?"

"Sure, why not?" he shrugged. "I'm pretty sure the afternoon is going to be exhausting too, so there probably won't be a point in showering now and I've got nothing better to do."

After finishing up their meals, Roman and Patton decided to start in the lobby by the counter.

Julian sat in his spot, feet on the counter and a laptop that looked like it had been stolen from a junk yard and upgraded with car parts on his lap.

"Hey there, kiddo!" Patton greeted leaning on the counter.

"I'm like two years younger than you tops," Julian responded, not looking away from the computer screen.

"We had a question, Count Woe-lav," Roman rolled his eyes.

"I'm hacking into government files for my brother, come back when I got what I- Never mind! He owes me," with a swift movement he closed the laptop and turned to face them. Roman could see the exact moment that he realised what he had said in his eyes. "I... was not doing anything illegal. I promise... My brother is a very honest and... er... law following man and so am I, it's what our mothers - may they rest in peace - should they ever die - taught us to be... Uh... How can I help you?!"

Roman contemplated whether they should do something about the confessed crime but Patton apperently decided to just roll with it.

"We were just wondering why we were told different dinner times," they explained.

Julian raised an eyebrow. "What do you think happens when a few hundred superpowered young adults are left unsupervised in a small room for an unspecified amount of time?"

"Ah, okay, that makes sense," Patton nodded to themselves.

"Well, thanks for the help, Julian," Roman stuffed his hands in his pockets.

The teens made a face.

"Don't call me that. That's just a random ass name to pick!"

"It's on your name tag," Roman frowned.

"Doesn't make it my name," the teen spat. His phone buzzed and he picked it up, in a clear dismissal.

"Thanks, kiddo," Patton called over their shoulder as they lead Roman back to the elevator.

"Sure thing, Dad," Not-Julian answered, too quickly to have thought it over.

"Let's do something fun with the rest of our break," Patton suggested once the elevator had closed and grinned at Roman in a way that made it impossible to decline.

"You got something special in mind?" he just asked and smiled right back at his new friend.

"Dunno, you pick something!" they rocked back and forth on their feet.

#sanders sides #roman sanders #patton sanders #character thomas #nonbinary patton #background virgil #remus mention #deceit mention #tw food mention #my writing #platonic royality #all the world will bow down series

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mythvoiced · 5 years ago

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Hana and Taemin for the ship meme??

— ultimate ship meme! | @busanbunnie

—

Send in two (or more) names and I’ll fill all this out about the ship!

General:

How long will they last? - I think this is a very loving case of ‘til death do us part’, and their love even transcends AUs of all kinds and genres, honESTLY, MAYBE FOREVER

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - I’ll be bold enough to say I think it was like meeting The One? I wouldn’t say Love At First Sight, but something about them meeting struck me like two souls destined to find one another, actually finding one another. So, I think it happened relatively fast, but not too fast

How was their first kiss? - Considering Taemin didn’t use to kiss at all back then, on his side there was a lot of hesitation from there, and I can imagine Hana might have been shy about it, so it was a lot of careful testing the water, and then so chaste that all my teeth fell out and regrew immediately due to its sweetness and emotional power

Wedding:

Who proposed? - I don’t remember what I might have said for this section in other occasions, but I do believe Taemin would have been the one? I can’t promise he managed to keep it a secret from Hana because he probably involved Minhwan to figure out how to best go about it and also because he was panicking lmao, but in the end, they did, and it probably wasn’t very fancy, just a romantic moment in the bliss of domestic intimacy

Who is the best man/men? - Definitely Minhwan, like, yo

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - Gale might be available for the spot, she might feel inappropriate, but I’d hope they convinced her to it anyway (because she’d feel loved and honoured)

Who did the most planning? - I think both, although Taemin probably let Hana go off and do a lot herself while he stood by and followed instructions to the letter, 1. because he trusts her decisions more than he trusts himself in general, 2. because I feel like Hana would love organising it? so he’d absolutely let her, 3. he’s a disaster and we been knew

Who stressed the most? - Maybe Taemin? I feel like (obviously always correct me, pls, like, I wanna knOW) Hana would stress over technicalities, the wedding itself, invitations, the places, just the organisatory aspect of it, and Taemin would over actually being a good man for Hana to say yes to

How fancy was the ceremony? -Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - No one! Everyone who needed to be there was there, and then some: Hana’s family, Hana’s teammates, Gale, maybe a few coworker of Minhwan and Taemin’s here and there

Sex:

Who is on top? - *cough* Well, depends on what position they’re fee- okay, just, Taemin

Who is the one to instigate things? - They seem to do both equally, and spontaneously, just a healthy loving couple with a healthy, adoring sex life

How healthy is their sex life? -Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? -Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - I’m seriously confused by this question, like, every time? Am I supposed to provide, like, an average amount of minutes, I’m- somebody who has sex, please let me know lmao, nah, okay, I’d say, an average amount?

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - A b s o l u t e l y, because Hana and Taemin are nothing short of a healthy, loving, respecting relationship between two people who love and respect one another very, VERY FKING MUCH, and they’d both want to assure that both parties receive as much as they give

How rough are they in bed? -Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? -No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - Two! A little baby girl and a little LITTLE BABY BOY

How many children will they adopt? - We’ve never actually considered or spoken about this, but I actually feel like Taemin would consider? When it comes to seeing the opportunity to free a child from a childhood perhaps as dark as his had been, why wouldn’t he take it? How would Hana feel

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - They’re both quite hard-working people, so I feel like all these sorts of stuff they try to balance it out as much as possible, they work together because they’re a team and as such, everyone gets their turn

Who is the stricter parent? - I’m not quite sure, actually, I feel like they’d both spoilt them in different ways? Mostly with attention I feel, and utmost support

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - I feel like Hana would do a better job at it, because Taemin is a tad too apprehensive in this context; where Hana would guide and teach, Taemin might just... worry too much

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Resident cook, TAEMIN

Who is the more loved parent? - Gotta be honest, might actually be Hana. It’s just a natural thing that, if the relationship is well, there’s just the slightest bit of a tighter bond between a mother and her children, she’s spent so much more time with them and besides, who the heck wouldn’t love Hana

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - I feel like it depends entirely on their schedule; they’d probably try to go together, because they’re supportive parents who want to show that they’re there, but again, it’d depend entirely on work and whatnot

Who cried the most at graduation? - I think, Hana? == AND I DON’T BLAME HER, tbh I was probably there too, crying (although, neither are anywhere near the age of graduating yet)

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Well

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - Taemin! It’s his *french voice* passiòn

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Not quite sure? Maybe Hana, because Taemin’s happy eating just about anything, and Hana’s got her Fave Snacks™ I’m assuming and besides, there’s a fat chance Taemin would have tried to spoil the heckers outta her

Who does the grocery shopping? - Whoever’s got the time, I suppose? OR EVEN BETTER, BOTH TOGETHER! Grocery Shopping Date™

How often do they bake desserts? - Not as often as they should >:(

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - Headcanon that they’re both meat lovers? What does the jury say?

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - OH HANA’S amazing at surprises, so far we’ve had quite a few scenarios where Hana was just “boom, I cooked for you” and Taemin had no idea, but what would be even funnier, is if they tried to surprise the other simultaneously, constantly trying to shoo the other out of the kitchen to get it done, and then in the end they figure it out and just... cook it together and it’s sweet and domestic and I love them

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - They both seem more fond of the stay at home variant? Like, they def go out on dates too, but Hana has quite an exhausting job and as someone who works on the computer, just for the eyes alone, not only her job as a mecha pilot is tiring, so I can see her being tired late and wanting to be cosy and Taemin loves cooking for them and I think they both just love to stay and cuddle

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? - H...m... maybe Hana

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - Whoever gets up last, which is why we have to have a thread where they try to race each other to try and not be the one who has to make the bed and whatnot

Who is really against chores? - Taemin’s lowkey so lazy in this context, he does them, but, Christ, he’s gonna be so pouty about it, how does Hana put up with him

Who cleans up after the pets? - BOTH!

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Both?

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Depends entirely on who the guests are! It might be Taemin because they’re most likely either Hana’s teammates, family, or other friends so he’s worried about impressing them; or it might be Hana because the same people, but she actually wants to welcome them properly.

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - HANA! I don’t know why, I’m just picturing her victory shout and her cheering and I love her

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Depends on whether they take ‘em together or not

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - Whoever’s got the time! But I feel, for some reason, Hana is probably better with them: I remember we headcanoned them being quite big dogs, and Hana is used to handling things as difficult as a mecha and is physically more fit than Taemin (she’s so hot, fyi)

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - ALWAYS, EVERY HOLIDAY, EVERY OCCASION AND I HEADCANON HANA IS THE QUEEN OF DECORATIONS

What are their goals for the relationship? - Long days and pleasant nights, to continue being happy together, be there for one another, and just be the perfect couple that they are

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - Depends entirely on what had happened the night before, but if Taemin takes to preparing breakfasts, especially for the kiddos, he’d leave Hana the luxury (also because she games so late into the night); plus considering the first almost year after either of the children’s births, she’d have to constantly get up during the night to feed them, BASICALLY SHE DESERVES TO SLEEP IN, and if they sleep in together, even better

Who plays the most pranks? - Please let this be Hana because I wanna see her pranking Taemin, PLS PLS PLS

#busanbunnie #the butterfly;busanbunnie #I'M SO GLAD YOU SENT THIS YOU HAVE NO IDEA-#a:#;queue

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jumpchain-drop · 5 years ago

Text

Chapter 4.1: 0.0 Years

“….aaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-”

SPLASH!

Ow.

“...ey… Hey… Hey…! Wake up…!”

My head was swimming as I slowly came to. I was soaked; I had washed upon a beach on a very green-looking piece of land. Various flotsam and jetsam were on the beach, though my eyes were drawn to the piece in the direction of the voice.

It was the closest, and it was a little bronze cage. Inside was a red ball of light with... fluttering wings.

“You’re awake!” came the voice from before. “You’ve been there for… I dunno how long, I was asleep when you washed ashore. Can you get up?”

“Just… give me a minute…” I got up. I don’t know why I was having trouble with this. For almost the last every ten years, I’ve been dropped roughly three times in a span of a week to a similar situation. Then again, even though I was winded after each of those, I was never hurt, and the voice said it was for his amusement. Maybe those were like… slapstick or something? I’m tangenting.

A few moments later, I got up to my feet and opened the cage door. The light inside flew out and fluttered around me joyously.

“Freedom!” it shouted. “Oh, I’ve been in that cage for weeks! I love getting to stretch my wings again!”

“You’re welcome, by the way,” I mumbled as I looked around at all the other stuff on the beach. On closer examination, there weren’t cut pieces of kelp or chunks of driftwood – they didn’t even seem to be damaged. The bottle looked the most like trash, and it had what looked like some kind of coupon inside it. Some strange red gem. A box that vaguely resembled a camera. A large shoulder bag, with the ends of apparently two scrolls sticking out, one a dull red and the other a more vibrant crimson. A fancy-looking hourglass, and a large old-looking mallet with an equally-old-looking shield right next to it.

“Oh, right, I haven’t introduced myself yet!” the ball stopped in front of me. “Thanks for letting me out! The name’s Twig! I’m a spirit of power – a fairy!”

I think I was mouthing “fairy” when it dawned on me. I turned to mouthing “Zelda” as I snapped my fingers.

I turned and looked around all my surroundings. Beyond the beach spread a vast ocean, stretching all the way to the horizon in every direction I could see it in.

Wind Waker.

I was in freakin’ Wind Waker.

“...So, are you going to tell me your name, or…?”

“O-Oh, my apologies,” I said, returning my focus to Twig. “I’m… Robert, sure, why not. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Same, Robert. You’re a weird one and really spacey, but you still rescued me, so I’m gonna stick around. So now that you’re awake, what are you gonna do now?”

“Well, for starters...” I looked around at the items that littered the beach. “I’m going to clean this up.”

“Is it all yours?”

“Knowing my life as I do, it probably is.”

“Good enough for me! I’m pretty strong, so I’ll help how I can!”

I rolled my eyes, but I appreciated the sentiment. I decided to get the bag first, for the obvious reason one gets a bag when collecting a lot of stuff.

When I picked the bag up, I found something was half-buried in the sand underneath it. “A giant scale…?”

Twig fluttered over to look at it. “I know this. This is one of the scales of the Sky Spirit, Valoo. Boy, you must be pretty mixed-up to be a Rito and not recognize it.”

“Wait, I’m a what?” I blurted out, but already my memories were stirring. I put my face to my hands and found my beak. How’d it taken me this long?

Felt my arms; no wings. Wait, were Rito wings always out? I reached for my memories of playing Wind Waker HD, but… dang, I played a lot of games just to experience them. Pokémon was something that was popular enough with me, and Banjo-Kazooie was important to my childhood (plus I had strategy guides for it), so I was able to recall details about those worlds with little hassle. But Wind Waker? I hadn’t played it until it came out on the Wii U; hell, I hadn’t played any Zelda game with anything resembling competency until the 3DS. I knew the critical path at a macro level and what each of the dungeons and bosses were, as well as the major characters, but I was drawing a blank on pretty much anything else.

“Seeing how out of sorts you are,” Twig said, “I probably need to fill you in on what should probably be obvious.”

“...Yeah, probably.” I mean, I wasn’t making any progress on my end.

“The first step to improvement is acknowledging there’s a problem.” He fluttered around the scale as he continued. “So, the Rito worship and attend to this super-old dragon, Valoo, that’s about as old at the ocean itself on their home on Dragon Roost Island. In exchange, the Rito get some of his scales. They do some kind of ritual with them, and that lets them grow wings so they can fly and get from island to island without a hitch.”

Right, that was coming back to me a little. “’Some kind of?’” I pressed.

“Hey, I don’t know everything or anything!” Twig answered, jerking up and down in an angry manner. “I have no idea how they use the scale. If you want your wings, we’ll probably have to take it to Dragon Roost Island and ask.”

“Works for me,” I said, putting the scale in the bag. Shouldering it – which was actually closer to the small of my back, but same effect – I started to pick up everything else. Twig actually wasn’t joking when he said he could help, but as he struggled to pick up the camera-box, it was clearly closer to exaggeration. I appreciate the thought.

When I picked up the hourglass, I took a moment to look it over. The sand that filled its bottom half reflected the sunlight with a beautiful gleam, looking less like sand and more like gold.

“Hey, Twig, you know anything about this?”

He fluttered around it for a bit, examining it. “I’m not sure… It feels familiar in some way, but I can’t put my finger on it. It definitely looks like a valuable treasure, though.”

“I’m kinda all about valuable treasures,” I said. “So I’m definitely holding onto it.”

It wasn’t too much longer before everything else was in there. I ruffled through everything and found that already inside the bag was the notebook. I wasn’t surprised in the slightest at this point. Like every other time, there was writing on the first page.

Layer 4:

You have ten years in this world.

Eight of your companions have been imported into native forms.

Two of your companions have landed in an alternate world. You will eventually be able to reach them.

Space will be made in the warehouse to ensure all purchased items will fit.

Entertain me.

“‘Ten years in this world’?” Twig asked from over my shoulder. “Are you sick or something?”

“No, I’m not- Wait… You can read this?”

“Yeah. Should I not?”

That was weird. As a test, I had previously shown the notebook to a couple of the Gray Jinjos, who unlike Team Firma I was certain were capable of reading English. However, they couldn’t make anything out but incomprehensibly cryptic scribbles, even the parts I had written myself – and my handwritng’s not that shit.

“No,” I answered. “I can’t explain it, but only me and a certain few people should be able to...”

Wait.

What the heck.

I just got here, I haven’t even seen a door yet, much less a locked one, and I’m pretty sure even without flawless memory I wouldn’t forget putting a fairy in a stasis pod.

“Hey, there’s more writing now!” said Twig. I looked back at the notebook.

Oh right, forgot to mention. One new companion has been chosen as able to join you without use of the stasis pod. You have the means by which to identify them. If they agree to join you, they will do so automatically.

“Oh come on, I’m not even allowed to choose my team anymore…?!” I grumbled.

“From everything you’ve said, I’m sure it’s talking about me,” Twig said. “Do you not want me, or…?”

“No, no, it’s not like that,” I said quickly. “Just… I’ve been jerked around a lot. I’ll explain more later, but… welcome to the team, Twig.”

“I won’t let you down, Robert!” His true fairy form was faintly visible in the light he admitted, and I saw him salute. “So, what’s the first order of business?”

“Well, if six of my companions are in this world, maybe some landed on this island too. Let’s go look for them.”

“Alright, I’ll follow your lead.”

“First off, any idea where we are, Twig?”

“I believe the residents refer to this place as Windfall Island. Dragon Roost is due east of here.”

“Wings are item number two. Let’s start exploring this place.”

Windfall Island is a large (for this world’s standard) and busy place, so finding stuff that was relevant information wasn’t easy. Most the Hylians – even though they don’t seem to call themselves that now – were nice enough, even though they kept assuming I was lost while trying to deliver the mail. To be fair to them, I was essentially carrying a mail bag around with me, but it made trying to figure out things that weren’t where people’s houses were a bit of a pain.

The first major bit of news I learned was that I was the second Rito on the island that no one had seen before. The first was female, a bit younger-looking than I did, but dressed in some expensive-looking clothing. She was last seen standing on the high cliff overlooking the ocean, the one with some kind of tombstone on it. For lack of better options, I decided to check it out.

I first saw her from behind when we got there. I was in more traditional – standard, I guess – Rito tunic, according to Twig. She, on the other hand, looked almost like royalty. Her body was covered with this almost form-hugging white dress. There was a short red cape flowing over her shoulders, more of a mantle than a cape, I guess. Her actual body, however, was far from mature; she honestly looked more than a little like a girl playing queen. The main things counting against this was her more-than-shoulder length hair that was mostly white but the tips were dyed red, and the halberd she was holding.

I started the uphill approach towards her. “Hi there-”

“Not another step.”

I stopped less from the command than from the sudden cold tone of it.

“...I didn’t think you would find me so quickly,” she said after a moment. “I would have put more thought into my ultimatum if I did. But I guess it’s better to rip that bandage off quickly.”

“That expression is stupid,” I blurted out. “Anyone that thinks it’s a better idea to rip a bandage off quickly doesn’t know how to take it off without uprooting more than a couple hairs underneath it.”

“I don’t think mouthing off to her is going to make her act nicer,” said Twig.

“Your new friend is right, Robert.” She started to turn around, revealing distinctive golden eyes.

“...Anita?”

“Correct.”

“...You look very nice.”

“Thank you, but flattery will not help you.”

“If she’s your friend, she’s kind of a mean one,” Twig whispered.

“Hmm, yeah...” I muttered. “She’s always been a little aloof, but...”

“It’s rude to just mutter to yourself while having a conversation,” Anita butted in.

“Doesn’t seem like much of a conversation to me,” I said. “What’s with the attitude, Anita?”

“What’s wrong with it? It’s a perfectly fine response to what’s been done to me.”

I wanted to ask what she was talking about, then I remembered Manaphy being Piddle before, as well as the idea of the two Terras that became one. I guess when you picked any arrival option besides the ones I was seemingly always shunted into, you got a background and memories to go with it. Problem was I had no idea what those backgrounds could be.

“OK,” I said. “I don’t think we’re getting anywhere like this. How about we take a deep breath, assume I’m an idiot, and you explain your perspective on this?”

“...Very well,” she replied. “But any sudden moves and I will not hesitate to strike.”

“Fine by me.”

She turned back to the cliff a little and took a deep breath of the sea breeze before facing me again. “Indeed, my name is Anita. I was born thirteen years ago on Dragon Roost Island. I’m sure even the idiot you want me to assume you are knows about their own species?”

“I know about the Rito,” I answered. “They need a scale from the great dragon Valoo to fly.”

“They also operate the mail system around the Great Sea,” Twig added. “Taking everyone’s letters and packages from the mailboxes, taking them to Dragon Roost to sort them, and then delivering them where they need to go. It’s a noble profession, and it helps connect those that can’t leave their islands.”

“Unfair, isn’t it?” Anita said suddenly. “A whole race dedicated to serving other races – and as the Korok don’t use the mail system, only the Hylians benefit. Only the line of attendants to Valoo himself do not have to undergo a mail Rito’s training. As a hatchling, I often wondered why the Rito would allow themselves to be used like this, so I dug through our history, even the parts that the chief would rather everyone not see. What I found blew my mind: the Rito didn’t always exist. Long ago, the Great Sea was a vast land, a kingdom, and living in that land was the race we once were: the Zora.”

“I’ve heard about that,” I commented. “When the Great Sea rose, the Zora tribe went onto land and evolved over time to develop wings, probably with Valoo’s help, and in turn became the Rito. Which never made sense to me – the Zora were aquatic creatures, and given the indication of ‘sea Zora,’ I was of the impression they could also live in salt water. If anything, the land turning into a sea would it make it better for them.”

“Well, despite being an ocean,” Twig spoke, “the Great Sea is remarkably hostile to intelligent life. We can still drink it after filtering, but the only ones that can live in it are the Fishmen. The occasional dumb monster get by just fine too. Any other living thing, though, can only swim in it for about thirty seconds at most before sinking like a rock, no matter how good a swimmer they may be. Almost as if the Sea itself was pulling them into its depths. Almost no one goes swimming at all anymore. Not voluntarily, at least.”

“Oh gheeze…” I winced. That was fucking terrifying to consider.

“The fairy speaks true,” Anita said, almost hugging her halberd to her. “Such a shame the Zora had to become these forms to survive. Their swimming was of great importance to them. Did you know that the Zora did not wear clothing? So dedicated to swimming they were, they wanted nothing to hold them back. They often had extra fins to give the impression of clothing. The only Zora to have clothing was the Zora king in traditional garb of red cloak, who was often extremely bloated and unable to swim anyway. I had to model my dress after the appearance of one of the past Zora queens.”

“.,.Boy, you’ve sure researched this a lot.”

“It has been my obsession.” Her eyes certainly seemed mad enough when she said it. “So much about them was washed away in the flood that created the Great Sea. So much lost… So much to discover. And once I have it all… I’ll be able to restart the old rites… and bring the Zora back.”

“Given the whole ‘ocean that hates sapient swimmers’ thing going on here-”

“Silence!” She brandished the tip of the halberd at us just only a second longer than it took to confirm I wouldn’t continue talking. “The Zora will return, I will make sure of it. No matter the cost. What cost could there be left, given I was banished from Dragon Roost for my research and for hoarding any Zora artifact I could find, including this halberd. And once they have returned, I shall be their new Queen in their gratitude. I know I will fit the role; I know that I am a reincarnation of a Zora Queen. It’s in my very soul to retrieve my people.”

Wisely, I decided to think to myself how absolutely deluded she sounded about that instead of saying it out loud.

“Or at least I thought I knew,” said Anita, her voice seeming to switch tracks entirely, “until at dawn today, when I suddenly woke up to the truth of my reincarnation. That, in a previous life, I was a monster under the ownership of an unworthy young man, and not the Queen I was sure I was. A life that I have full memories of as if I’ve lived it myself. As you might imagine, this makes me very upset. Especially at the one that I am now certain is the reincarnation of that young man.”

I could feel Twig looking at me.

“...Given my circumstances, ‘reincarnation’ might not be the right word...” I eventually said. My concern for my life was probably pretty apparent given none of what I said, well, said so.

“Regardless!” She swept her halberd in a large gesture. “While I still have my goals as the Anita I am, the Anita I was – or perhaps also truly am – has her own will to carry out, and seeing as it involves raking you over the coals, I’m inclined to go along with it.”

“Boy, Robert, your choice of friends leaves something to be desired,” said Twig.

“Shut up, Twig.” I groaned. “The hell you going on about? Why the hell would you – either of you – want to be so antagonistic?”

“Then I’ll be as clear as I can manage,” said Antia. “I’ve listened to all the stories you’ve given us inside that warehouse. You and everyone else you brought along and changed, enough accounts and evidence of the truth. You’ve been going around for three decades, doing crazy things and fighting monsters and getting treasure. Meanwhile, I’ve known you for a total of a little more than two weeks, as the fourth trainer in a row to win my Ball in a card game.”

I felt my soul wince at that. Only now, after Terra’s talk on how Pokémon view equality, did I truly realize that winning a Pokémon from a hand of poker would probably be the worst way to get a new trainer from the Pokémon’s perspective. “You don’t think I’m your equal. That’s it, isn’t it?”

“At least you have that figured out,” she replied, her words too bitter to even really be sarcasm. “I am done with being another trophy. So you’re going to prove to me that you are my equal, my way.”

“And what way is that?”

“I made a deal with the voice in the elevator,” she said. The dangerous vibe that surrounded her was the only thing keeping my temper regarding the asshole voice from shooting my mouth off. “I selected my choices towards its fulfillment. You have these ten years to show me you are worthy of my loyalty. If you don’t… I’m staying here.”

“Staying here…?” My eyes widened with the realization. “You don’t mean…?”

“I do. Your little jaunts across the universe continue without me.”

I wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to… hate? No, it wasn’t that. Pokémon didn’t broil themselves like that. She wanted me to prove myself her equal. She was challenging me. “Fine. So how am I supposed to prove myself then?”

“It’s quite simple,” she answered. “I have plans to carry out. Selfish plans that will no doubt ruin many lives in these oceans. You will have to stop me. But I’ll keep getting stronger; I don’t think you can do it.”

“If it’s a battle you want, I can give you one,” I said, getting into a fighting stance. “Right now. I’m a Pokémon too now. I’m pretty sure I could give you more than a run for your money.”

“Oh I’ve no doubt you’d win,” she said, not breaking her composure once. “Which is why you have to prove your dedication further than a mere single battle. It would not show the strength you’ve claimed to use in those two decades I slept through. No, foiling a much larger campaign is the only way. Of course, it wouldn’t surprise me if you declined, if you decided my value to your team isn’t worth the effort of taking me down.”

“...” What could I say to something like that…? Did she… really think I didn’t care…?

“But if you do truly value me… come and get me.”

And then, before I could react, she hopped backwards off the ledge.

“Anita!” I ran over to the ledge shouting, when it was crested by a large puff of red smoke as a red-and-white streak shot curving into the sky. The resulting burst of wind knocked me to the ground and sent Twig reeling into a nearby wall. By the time we recovered, she was gone.

“...OK,” Twig said, dusting himself off. “I am so out of the loop here that I’m completely off the necklace. Nothing about that made sense. What the hell is your deal? And her deal? And the general deal? And what the hell is a ‘Pokémon?’”

I was still getting my thoughts together when Twig’s interjection broke me out of my thoughts. “...Let’s get something to eat, to discuss it over. There’s a good bit to cover...”

“...So, you’re from another world where this world is some kind of game. And you weren’t always a Rito, but a human – which is like a Hylian but less pointy ears. And the voice of a jerk in an elevator because I don’t feel comfortable with the word you used is doing all this, they take you to a different world every ten years, and you use the notebook to talk to them.”

“That’s the short of it.”

“...Wow. And I thought the entire idea of this place not always being an endless ocean was farfetched. I mean, there’s the legend on the wind about the kingdom that disappeared, but I never thought we were right on top of it.”

We were – well, I was – sitting on the edge of a fountain the most town square-like spot in Windfall, eating a seaweed wrap. It took me awhile to get somewhat used to the taste of seaweed. Twig was used to it already, and had the occasional nibble from it.

I swallowed my latest bite. “If it’s ever too much for you, it’s fine if you jump ship. Wordplay not intended.”

“No, I think my curiosity insists on me sticking around. Besides, you could use my help against that girl Rito.”

“How so?”

“All we need to do is find a few gems like the one you have already!”

“The gem?” I asked. I ruffled through my bag a little before pulling out the small red gem.

“Yeah, that one!” Twig bounced happily. “That’s a Power Gem! See, you can see the mark of Power on it!”

I turned it over. Indeed, there was some wavy white mark on it.

“As a spirit of power, I can make use of these Gems!” he continued. “Once you have enough, I can absorb the energy within them, and I’d be able to grant you new strength!”

“I’m certainly going to need all the strength I can get if I’m going to win over Anita. Do you know where the others are?”

“If I knew where they were, well, I certainly wouldn’t be in my current state. I know there’s twenty altogether, but that’s it.”

I sighed. “That makes sense enough… First one of my companions goes rogue for perfectly reasonable reasons and now this treasure hunt… Not that I don’t like a good treasure hunt, but I’m feeling overwhelmed… I really could use one of my girlfriends right about n-”

It was at that moment the second major bit of news suddenly attached itself to my face. In the resulting shouting and flailing, I fell backwards into the fountain with a large splash.

“Robert!” said the leaf-faced creature that stood in front of me. “I’ve been looking all over the island for you!”

“Personal space!” I shouted, lifting the deceptively-lightweight living branch off me. “Who are you?”

“I’m Terra!”

“Terra?!” I brought the creature back down to hug her. “Boy I’m glad to see you- OK I’d like to get out of the water now.”

During the time I was drying off, we exchanged situations and got everything sorted out. First of all, Terra was now going by the name of “Elmily,” as the Korok (a species I’m like half-sure I actively tried to ignore the existence of back home) had names derived from trees. The second was that she already had an idea of what Anita was up to already. Due to being an elevator and not a meeting hall, the voice had each of the eight imported companions come in and make their builds one at a time, and it was very generous with talking about what those before had selected. As such, she had a general idea of what everyone before her was doing, which turned out to consist of the five teammates I had prioritized. It also turned out this time the voice was deciding the starting location for each companion individually of my own, at random.

First new thing we confirmed was, far as she knew, she was the only Korok and Anita and I were the only Rito; everyone else had chosen to be a Hylian.

“If two companions landed in a different world,” she said, “one of them was probably Maria. Her location was selected to be ‘World of the Ocean King.’”

“Ocean King...” I pondered for a bit. “I think that name came up in the sequel, Phantom Hourglass. It’s certainly not in the Great Sea, I’m certain of that.”

I heard Twig mutter “Phantom Hourglass…?” but Elmily continued talking before I could respond.

“One of those after me must have gone there too. Though I’m mostly concerned with one location in particular...”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well, Cody landed on Outset Isle...”

“I think that’s the tutorial island, he’ll be fine.”

“...but Bolt and Shadow landed someplace called ‘Forsaken Fortress.’ And judging by how your eyes are bugging out, my concerns are well-founded.”

With that knowledge, the matter of transportation became very important. Turned out everyone had gotten a free boat, but the non-Hylians also had a flight item – i.e. Valoo’s scale – that could be received for free by foregoing said boat. All three known non-Hylians had done so, including me, and I had no idea how to use mine. Twig wasn’t big about flying across the ocean by herself, so Elmily offered to fly her Deku Leaf across to Dragon Roost Island while the wind was blowing that way and find a local adult Rito that could help me with that while also not asking too many questions.

Before she did that, though, we came to the consensus that “Robert” really wasn’t enough of a Rito name to pass casual inspection. After a couple hours of debate and getting as much info about Rito names out of Twig as we could, we eventually settled on “Naskema.” Hopefully it doesn’t mean anything bad.

Year 1, day 2: Elmily has come back with a Rito named Quill. He’s a little surprised that someone as old as I am hasn’t already undergone gotten my wings, but true to the plan, he didn’t ask too many questions. Guess I owe him a favor or something for this? Honestly, I’m already tired of this island and want off it already. At least it has locked doors and I found enough rupees hammering down the grass to pay someone to build a doorframe for me, so it wasn’t like I was sleeping outside.

(The new plate has an icon that looks like the Triforce with the Wind Waker overlaid over it and I think I see a hint of lime green; it’s only day 2, so the colored wedge is practically invisible. As well, the only light on the roster board that’s red is Bitbit’s, so everyone else was imported, and the two Terra didn’t know the builds of were Tooty and Manaphy.

I tried calling in Bitbit like I did Shadow before to make the trip instead of Elmily, only for nothing to happen. When I demanded answers to the notebook, it replied I could only have up to eight active companions by default. That sucks, missing a flyer in this setting, but there’s not really anything I can do about it.)

In the intermediate time, I more examined my belongings and found that the two scrolls in the bag are treasure maps! X marking spots and everything! Spots that are all in the ocean. I’m certainly not going swimming in the Psychonauts death water, but surely a sea-faring society such as this has access to some kind of salvage mechanisms that could be used.

Quill’s getting the necessary things set up in the other room now. Hopefully this will be quick and painless.

Year 1, day 8: THIS WAS NOT QUICK AND PAINLESS

I AM NEVER GROWING WINGS EVER AGAIN

#jumpchain #a man chooses #jumpchain a man chooses #story #layer 4 the legend of zelda the wind waker

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kaiofmotunui · 5 years ago

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Beautiful Little Fools | TIKAI

Who: @tiaisms & @kaiofmotunui

When: Saturday, December 6th

Where: Tiana’s Place

What: At Tia’s Prohibition-Themed 21st birthday, she and Kai confront each other about having been broken up for almost two years, and stakes are high. Spoiler alert: They get back together, but you all knew this because this took place four months ago.

Kai hadn't stopped thinking about the playlist Tia had given him since he got it. He had to admit, they had very different tastes in music, and it took him a while to really get into Patsy Cline and Kacey Musgraves, but once he started listening to the lyrics, he couldn't help but feel there was a theme. A theme of lost love, of longing, of second chances...And he didn't want to read too far into it, but he knew Tia wasn't one to do anything by accident. So when he received an invitation to her party in the rest of the gifts she'd sent to his cottage for his birthday, Kai figured the least he could do was show up. He was technically "in" the @ pack, and had been since it began, but he wasn't much of a partier and she knew that, so he rarely actually showed. This would be maybe his third time -- and it helped that the theme was something he could get behind. Suspenders stretched taut across his chest, bowtie tied tightly around his neck, trousers fitted...Kai felt like he looked good. Good enough to not leave this place heartbroken? He didn't know. The atmosphere was very reminiscent of the 1920s themed prom where they'd first said their I Love Yous and traded virginities, and that...kind of felt like a sign. He'd even worn the ankle bracelet she'd gotten him two birthdays ago as kind of a good luck charm. But luckily, he gave her the one (1) gift of wearing pants that covered his ankles, tonight, so hopefully no one would notice and call him out on it. Kai scanned the crowd while sipping his 'TiaTini', having not spotted the birthday girl since he arrived. But then, the crowd parted and Tia emerged almost in slow motion. Obviously dressed perfectly to theme, and laughing alongside Izzie and Freddie. Kai had been so taken aback by the vision, he'd stopped mid-sip and almost spilled the pink cocktail onto his shoes. "Shit," he muttered to himself as he dodged the drip and, no doubt, drew attention to himself. He gave Tia, who'd definitely noticed him by now, a small wave as he started to walk over to her.

Tia was almost certain that Kai wasn't going to show up at her party. After Waltfest and New Year's he had absolutely no reason to show up now that a while she'd finally pulled her butt out of her head and actually tried to get him back. Which was fine, she supposed. He tried to fight for her and now it was gonna be her turn to try to fight for him. Probably. But she wasn't going to let that bother her that night, she'd already cast out her first "green light" in the form of her playlist and party invitation, so she just planned to really worry about the rest later. Her birthday was going to be spent being the belle of the ball and having the most fun with the people that actually showed up. So she was fully taken off guard when in the middle of joking with Izzie and Freddie about how Sage wouldn't have to let strange men pet her hair for booze anymore, Kai pulled her attention by nearly making a mess. Instantly forgetting about what she was doing, Tia returned Kai's wave and forced herself to walk and not run up to him. "I can't believe you actually showed up, hi."

Kai shrugged at Tia's words once she met him halfway. "Me? Not show up? Never," he shook his head and tried to remain cool as he sipped his TiaTini this time. "I mean...I know I'm not exactly the member of the @ pack with a perfect attendance record, but...this is your birthday. Twenty-one! So of course I had to come. Happy birthday." Kai shoved a hand into his pocket and nearly ripped out the inner lining as he internally fought with himself on what to say next. "And I had to thank you in person for my awesome birthday presents, too. I've been listening to the playlist on repeat. And, as always, the cupcake was delicious. You always know exactly what to get."

Tia grinned in response to Kai's statement and fiddled with the long string of pearls around her neck as she nervously waited to see if he'd say anything about her not exactly subtle playlist. Getting rejected on her birthday would be a pretty shocking new low after all. "Well I'm glad you could make it! Thank you" Ordinarily Tia would've finished the thanks with a hug, but since Tia didn't really couldn't guess where the conversation would even go, she just stood there only kind of awkwardly. "You're welcome, it was no problem really. You're officially in the double digits club now so I had to make you something cool. And like...from the heart specifically. "

Kai furrowed his brow as he really thought about 'the double digits club'. "I -- " he started to correct, her, but just let himself chuckle it off. "Thanks. It's so weird to think that I'm twenty now. And you're twenty-one. It feels like just yesterday we were baking in the home ec. room." He rolled his eyes but smiled with fondness all the same at the memory. "But you mean that? The playlist was from the heart?" He tried to make it sound like not a huge deal, but he was trying to gauge if the non-subtlety of it all was....intentional. Or just another 'Tia putting children's music on a sex playlist' thing. "Cause I really took it to heart. Just...thought you should know....that." He shrugged, living in the vagueness of it all just a little too much, he was sure. But after so many past rejections, he couldn't bring himself to be more blunt.

Tia joined the chat 15 hours ago

Tia let out a soft laugh at the memory of Home Ec and how wild it was that time was passing so quickly. "I know right? We're so old now! And of course I mean that. My whole entire heart is still in love with you and misses you and that's what most of the songs were about." Tia admitted, grimacing slightly as she fought all her instincts to beat around the bush, Kai had been the clearest ever with her when he tried to get her back, so she absolutely owed him the same.

Kai cocked a brow. Well, that came out easier than he'd expected...and it didn't hit his ear the way he'd expected, either. He came not exactly on the mission of winning Tia back, but with the idea in the back of his head...why didn't it feel as good as he'd hoped? Maybe because he was still jaded from the last two times that he'd tried to make this happen, maybe because now he knew that this was how she'd felt all along, and yet she still let him go through those rejections. Made him go through those rejections. But now that she was ready, he was supposed to leave all that behind? Which he was fully prepared to do, but he wasn't going to make it as easy as....configuring a playlist. "Wow. That's....interesting," he shrugged. "You had a change of mind almost a year later?" Kai sipped his TiaTini in a very KermitMeme.jpeg way.

Tia 's eyebrows practically shot up to her little bejeweled 20s headband at Kai's reaction to her admission. Even though it was extremely off the cuff and unplanned, she had expected a much more enthusiastic reaction than what she'd gotten. "Well not exactly..." She muttered, instantly less brave than she was only seconds before. "I've always loved you...but like..stuff happened and I..I don't know. Ugh." Really not used to much resistance where getting Kai was concerned, Tia grew visibly frustrated as she tried and failed to figure out how to explain herself.

Kai felt his brow soften as she stammered through an explanation. "Yeah....I don't know either," he shrugged, suddenly feeling more sullen than spiteful. It was always that creeping insecurity of the two of them being fools about a relationship that would never work out in the long run that came creeping up into his brain at the most inopportune moments. "I know where I am emotionally right now, and I know that I'd rather dump this drink on my head than ever hurt you again, but now I've been hurt too. And we like to think we're so much older and mature but like....are we?" He smirked bitterly at not only the situation, but himself. How could he have gotten his hopes up over something that he knew deep down always ended in one of them in pain? "I...I'm gonna have to think about it." But he knew himself -- he knew that he'd think for two seconds, remember there were new boobs involved that he hadn't touched yet, and dive headfirst back into this tornado of a relationship. Still, Kai tried to at least pretend like he was going to mull things over as he turned around to walk away from her, but as he turned a passerby knocked the martini glass out of his hand and onto the ground. "Shit," Kai muttered as he knelt to retrieve it.

Tia bit down hard on her lower lip and tried her best to not tear up or just run away as Kai spoke. She genuinely believed that after really trying her best to be a new chiller person and after seeing him actually stay in one place for like over two years, they really did have a chance to not hurt each other this time, but she didn't really have the words or the courage to actually get that out. So when Kai turned to walk away, she made no moves to stop him. The current state of her eyeliner was much more important to her than something she'd planned on fixing later ANYWAY. She was basically running on some weird kind of autopilot as she bent down to grab the dropped martini glass and only really snapped out of it as the gleam of something gold on Kai's surprisingly mostly covered ankle. Tia forgot all about what she'd been reaching for and instead yanked Kai's pant leg as high as she could get it with them both down on the ground. "What the heck! Is this some kind of joke is this supposed to be?"

Kai tried to tear his pant leg from Tia's grip, not entirely sure why she was holding onto it and nearly making him fall over in the process -- that was, until she lifted it over his ankle bracelet. Oh. Double shit. He quickly stood up and covered up the shame on his ankle. "No one's joking! I wore it...because it's your birthday," he lied. "And I still have it. So I figured it was appropriate to wear to your special Tia-themed shindig with your....Tiana's Place and your TiaTinis and whatever else." He rambled on defensively -- She couldn't know that he had come here fully prepared to admit he was still madly in love with her, just like he'd done. Especially since he put on this whole 'I'll have to think about it' show. "I'm not -- I wasn't...I wasn't hoping for this to happen, if that's what you're implying."

Tia shot up from the ground just seconds after Kai did, crossed her arms against her chest and glared at him as he listened to his explanation. "That's stupid. First of all, my birthday party isn't Tia themed. It's the 20s. I'm pretty sure they didn't have customized ankle bracelets back then. Secondly, I'm not implying anything. Mostly because I'm not super sure I know what that means but also I'm not! You got my playlist and knew how I felt about you for FIVE WHOLE DAYS NOW and even though you apparently don't want me back anymore you wore that anklet here anyway. What is wrong with you!?" She was just barely not screaming at the top of her lungs at this point, since they for sure had to be causing at least a little bit of a scene but she wasn't entirely sure she cared or not. Tia uncrossed her arms and angrily held out one hand to Kai, palm up. "Give me the ankle bracelet back, you apparently have some thinking to do and I'd hate for this to confuse you as much as it's confusing me right now."

Kai scoffed at her dissecting his perfectly-crafted response, and was about to rebut when she demanded to know what was wrong with him, but was taken off guard when she then demanded he give the ankle bracelet back. "What?! I'm not -- !!!" he started, then realized he sounded a little too passionate and attached to this ankle bracelet. Kai cleared his throat and started the sentence over. "I'm not giving it back, that's crazy. It was a gift. And you can't just make a playlist like that and profess your love for me, when a year ago I tried. Twice! And you broke my heart both times!" He was breaking down now, finally letting his calm and cool facade melt away into the pure sap he felt like every time he was near her. "We started this year off kissing each other, and you left me in a crowd of people like nothing even happened. The worst part about all of this is that I'm not confused! After all that, I still want to be with you more than anything!" It felt like it all came out at once, and Kai's heart pounded behind his ribcage. Emotional vulnerability fucking sucked. "So yeah. That's why I wore this thing, because it's kind of the only hope I have that we can make it. And I'm not giving it back."

Tia 's face flushed a deep shade of angry red as she really considered getting down on her hands and knees to rip the bracelet off his ankle with her bare hands. But that was probably a little too crazy for right then. So instead she buried the idea and kept her hand out for the bracelet as he spoke...but the more he spoke, the thought did creep up again. Especially when he insisted that she'd left him in that crowd like nothing happened. At which point, she finally had to put her hand down and instead began clenching both hands into tight little fists at her sides, ignoring the bite of the nails and rhinestones as they dug into her skin. "Then what did you even need to think about. How to make me feel as bad as you did both of those times when I broke your heart? Newsflash, Aukai, i was fully shattering my own heart at the exact same time. I can't even start to go into how horrible I've felt for a whole actual year straight, but All you're doing right now is making everything take way longer than it needs to just because I'm the stupidest girl alive, and that's even worse."

Kai raised his brows. He didn’t know she felt bad for what she did — from where he stood, she’d rejected him and then went off with two different yet strikingly similar tall and hairy guys. “Well I think the difference here is that...I didn’t know that. You never let me in on the fact that you felt bad — All I saw was you leaving me to go be with Huntley or get stood up on dates by Leo Fitzherbert.” He rolled his eyes at the mere mention of both of those assholes, both of whom had now rejected her in the exact same ways. “I don’t blame you for saying no....both times. I guess,” he shook is head with a sigh. “I’m the stupid one. I’ve fucked up your trust too many times. I can’t blame you.” He toyed with the martini glass in his hand as he struggled to meet Tia’s gaze. “So I don’t have to think anymore. Now what?”

Tia rolled her eyes when Kai said he hadn't known how she felt. Like she didn't struggle with telling him how they felt when they were together and happy. "Like you've never heard of a stupid rebound." She muttered, not at all interested in even hearing the names of those other guys. Still, she ended up letting her clenched fists slacken as Kai talked. Part of the magic of their relationship was that as quickly as he could rile her up, he could usually bring her right back down into being putty in his hands. "Language. But...I don't know, if you don't have to think anymore, what'd you decide?" Tia was pretty sure she knew what he was going to say, but she still couldn't help nervously looking down at the floor before glancing up at him through her lashes

Kai sighed. He'd put the ball in her court, and she tossed it right back into his. Kai shook his head, allowing the feelings he felt coming into the night come back to him. The hopefulness, the butterflies, the need to kiss her. "I decided that I'm not going anywhere." He shrugged, knowing that what he said might sound simple to anyone else, but between them, it meant everything. "And if you'll have me, I'd be so down to give us another try. Hopefully the final try this time." Kai stepped closer to Tia, and oh-so delicately took one of her hands in his, rubbing his thumb across the back.

And then they kissed and lived happily ever after or something, idk because Dany never replied.

#( interaction: tia )#( feat: tia )

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magmacannon · 5 years ago

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41 - 50 for yuncle ;D

heowueh here we go!

41. What’s their sexuality? What do they find attractive? Physically and mentally? What do they like/need in a relationship?

Yarrow’s bi! It’s a bit hard to say what he finds attractive as it’s... a pretty extensive list, but I guess?? A major one is a well-put-together Look, though what exactly that Look is can differ massively. There’s a few things he finds definitely unattractive - mainly, controlling behavior, harsh judgement, and willful ignorance/mistreatment of self or others immediately make him shut off. (and physically, apparently whatever the heck Barnabas is doing with his look??? - Barn isn’t bad looking but there’s SOMETHING that’s touched this pink bastard’s nerve fhjfkd)

42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition?

Yarrow’s childhood goal was, initially, to make a name for himself and make sure he was set up comfortably where he could thrive (ideally in a city). After achieving that his goals shifted a bit - keep having fun but use his influence to help others, in casual (ahem) ways, through therapy to certain individuals, and (most recently) to groups/whole towns through putting his money where his ideals are. Sacrifice.... hm. There’s not a lot right now that he’d sacrifice anything for, though his recent connections to friends are making him question that. There was something he was willing to sacrifice anything for in the past, but [redacted], ya know Secret ambition is to! Be part of the group that takes down the wall/governing body of Thurisaz, though that’s not 100% ‘secret’ fhjfkd

43. Are they religious? What do they think of religion? What do they think of religious people? What do they think of non religious people?

He’s at most casually religious, in that he’s like.... an elf who has to be on the good side of Corellon or else his soul Dies Forever or whatever. He thinks that religion can serve good and bad purposes depending on how you approach it - god knows he’s had to deal with a LOT of overzealous paladins using ‘religion’ to try and shut him up so he’s highkey aware of that, but also knows the hope it can bring and the good it can do. The only non-religious anything he’ll make a face about is like.... well, someone who goes ‘gods aren’t real’ because at that point, in this world where gods legit interact directly with people, that’s just being silly

44. What is their favourite season? Type of weather? Are they good in the cold or the heat? What weather do they complain in the most?

He loves late spring/summer because of the warmer weather and the flowers! Rain is Not his friend so he loves lightly breezy sunny days - he’s FAR better with heat than with cold, overreacting to it unless he’s actually suffering from the cold (in which case he’ll shut up and do magic abt it). Rainy weather makes him complain the most because the hair sis, the hair,

45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves?

When he was young he was very popular, then he moved to bigger cities and was still popular but wasn’t taken seriously, then he improved his status and his look and now most people see him as he wants to be seen, bar for his friends (whom he keeps failing constitution saves in front of) and employees (who clown on him, much to his dismay). He seems himself as??? Less simple than he assumes he is seen as.

46. Do they make a good first impression? Does their first impression reflect them accurately? How do they introduce themselves?

I sure HOPE he makes a good first impression! It’s definitely a strong one - he tries to do his best with it and keep calm/suave/fashionable for meeting anyone, and almost always succeeds. His first impression reflects... a good bit of who he is but it misses the elf drama (but like... if you know elves, you can probably expect that this bastard’s gonna be About That). If he’s in his shop he’ll introduce himself with a head nod and a ‘welcome, how may I help you’ - if he’s flirting he’ll bow or say some sort of one-liner. jfhhfd The... one time this failed entirely was meeting Gay Mer, though to his credit he had been poisoned and tied up by bandits so being seductive wasn’t working.

47. How do they act in a formal occasion? What do they think of black tie wear? Do they enjoy fancy parties and love to chit chat or loathe the whole event?

He LOVES it - loves fancy parties, though he finds basic black tie wear boring. Other people look good in it but he’ll Die if he can’t be a little ostentatious. But regardless, he does enjoy going to big social events both fancy and casual - he likes the attention on his own terms, likes dancing, and likes getting dressed up, so fancy parties work wonderfully.

48. Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do they organise the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t want to go but were dragged along by a friend?

Like the last one, almost any party is good for him! He doesn’t go to nearly as many wild parties as he used to but he makes sure to look VERY good for it. He doesn’t organize parties but has been the one to suggest them in the past - how he acts has mellowed down over the years as well but he’s still very lively and talkative (and flirtatious usually). fjhfhd He uh... wouldn’t let himself be dragged to a party he didn’t want to go to, honestly. You could convince him to go, but unless he’s willing he’ll turn it down entirely.

49. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them?

Strangely enough, it’s his (wizard) wand - first focus he ever got, and he still has it with him which is a sense of pride. He’s not usually too sentimental, but there’s a few things (one or two older articles of clothing, some letters from home, a certain perfume he’s had for a long time) that he keeps closer than the rest of it (which, in his mind, can be replaced - he earned his material goods through work and if needed can do it again, it’s not gonna kill him). He doesn’t usually bring these things with him though, just looks at them from time to time and all that (the focus travels with him on long journeys) Well that and ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ of course. ;)

50. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them: what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials?

HMM Well if he didn’t have a bag of holding, then it’s his focus, some money, the weird elf bread that lasts forever, a comb, another set of clothes, and his decanter of endless water. OH and a hair tie or five because that’s too much hair to deal with if it gets messy.

#C: Yarrow #thank you for the ask!!#dogs without horses #bastard man

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edward-or-ford · 7 years ago

Text

Happy Uncle’s Day!

Cassie decides her uncle deserves to be treated to just as nice a day as any father gets.

(This fic is an “inbetweequel”, taking place over a decade after the events of the final chapter of “Unexpected”, and a little over a year before “Coming Out”. It is not necessary to have read either fic before this one: in fact, it would be kind of interesting to get feedback from anyone who reads this and has not read the stories that came before.)

SFW Pinecest fluff under the cut, about 12K words. Thanks to @pinestimes2 and @yaschiri for the beta reads.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP …

Uggggghhhhhh shut up shut up shut up just wanna sleep shut up shut up shut up SHUT UUUUPP!!!

… BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP …

Oh … wait a minute … unnnnggggghhhhhh aw man is it time to wake up already?

… BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP …

I reach out to the top of my desk where my tablet is leaning on its charging stand. My loud, really annoying, really stupid tablet!! It is not my fault that I set the alarm for 6:30 on a Sunday morning. It’s the dumb tablet’s fault! Right?

I grab the screeching pad and flop back onto my pillow. Holding it above my face, I point my bleary eyes in the general direction of the device.

…. BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP ...

I start swiping the complex unlock pattern, and I'm failing miserably. Mom has been making me be all “responsible” for getting myself up since the school year started last fall. Boo! I’m only in Grade 6! I'd rather stay a kid! I figured out pretty quick back then that if it was too easy to turn off the alarm, I’d just fall asleep again. So I had to make it harder for myself.

After two failed attempts, though, this is now really starting to suck. C’mon, Cassie! I blink a few times and actually focus on the screen before I try once more.

… BEEP BEEP BE-

I manage to finally get it to shut up, and then none-too-gently I let the darned thing fall to the mattress beside me. Sure enough, I’m awake now. And I’m feeling really tired and grumpy. Today isn't a school day. I wish I could remember why I wanted to set this alarm on the weekend! What dumb reason-

But now I remember. And I’m not grumpy anymore!

It’s Uncle’s Day! Well, it’s really Father’s Day, I suppose, but I've never celebrated it before because … well, because I don’t have a father. A bunch of kids in my class don’t have fathers who live at home with them, but every one of them at least sees their dad every so often. I’m not that lucky. I’ve never met my dad, I don’t even know what he looks like. It’s always made talking about Father’s Day at school a little weird.

But I’ve got UncleDip! And he’s a really great uncle! Better than some poophead in California I’ve never laid eyes on, that’s for sure! And since there’s no official “Uncle’s Day”, I decided on my own that this year UncleDip would get the same treatment that any of my classmates’ fathers would get. Better, even!

Now suddenly full of energy, I spring up, pushing back the lightweight sheet. It was kind of a warm, sticky night, what with the summertime heat in New Jersey starting up. Is it really already the middle of June? Even with the fan blowing at full speed, sleeping is going to get really uncomfortable soon. I wish I had an air conditioner in my room! They don't have it at school either, it's so gross- feeling! Just one more week of school until summer vacation, though. I have a geography report that I still need to finish. I wonder if Stephanie still needs help with hers? She’s going up to New York City with her family next week. I wonder if she’ll go see any art museums? I’ve always wanted to go to th-... Then I shake my head. Distractions! Why can’t I keep my dumb brain on track? Mom says she was like this at my age, too.

After I push my glasses onto my face, I quietly open the door to my room and slip into the hall, just a couple of steps away from the apartment’s main living space. My goal is to serve breakfast in bed for UncleDip. But it’s going to be hard, because he’s kind of a light sleeper. Usually I end up waking him when I’m up and about before him, even if I’m trying to be quiet.

But this morning I’m in luck! As I peek around the corner to spy on the pull-out sofa, I see Mom is sleeping there instead of UncleDip! Her long hair is strewn all over the place, including a bunch stuck inside her wide-open mouth. She’s so funny, even in her sleep! I wonder for a second why she took her turn sleeping out here. Sometimes Mom insists (even when UncleDip argues) that he stay in her room to get a good night’s sleep if he’s getting up for work early, but I know he isn’t working today. For the zillionth time, I wish that we could afford an apartment with three bedrooms instead of two, so the two of them didn't have to split time in the only private room other than mine. It’s not fair to either of them.

Ah whatever! All I know is Mom sleeps like a rock. I can easily make breakfast for UncleDip out here now! Heck, it won’t matter whether I bother Mom or not, cause even if I do wake her, she’ll just help me!

I open up the fridge and cupboards and start cooking. I’d like to fry some bacon, but the smell would probably be a giveaway. It doesn’t take too long before I’m ready to go with a big plate filled with pancakes, scrambled eggs, and toast. I add another smaller plate with more pancakes for myself, and I arrange it all on a plastic tray with a glass of milk and some syrup. I carefully maneuver my way past Mom, who is still snoring away, and quietly sneak to the end of the hallway. The door to the bigger bedroom is closed, but I manage to turn the knob without upsetting my tray, and silently I take a look into the room.

The open window inside does little to fight against the crappy stagnant air. UncleDip is sprawled on his back, a sheet pulled up over his bare tummy. After carefully putting the tray down on the top of Mom’s dresser, I ease the door closed again, then tip-toe my way around to the far side of the bed so I can get beside him. Then I lean over and hover close to his ear.

This is going to be good! I think, laughing to myself.

“Happy Uncle’s Day!” I shout loudly.

I don’t even all three words out before he screams and thrashes in that awesome way that only my favorite uncle can do. He sits up so fast, his arm hits my shoulder, knocking me off balance and sending me stumbling to the floor. It doesn’t stop me from giggling hysterically, though, and as I start to pull myself back up to my feet, UncleDip is gasping for breath and looking around wildly. Then he focuses on me, and I love how big his eyes get when he’s not ready for one of my grand entrances!

“Cassie … what the heck? …” he pants.

“Good morning, UncleDip!” I squeal, bouncing up and down excitedly. “Today’s your special day! Who says only fathers get pampered today?” I run over to the dresser and carefully pick up the tray. “Breakfast is served! You deserve it on Uncle’s Day!” I proclaim, gingerly carrying the tray over to his side.

“Uhh … okay …” UncleDip says, a sheepish smile forming on his face as he rubs his eyes. He starts sitting up, then stops. “Uncle’s Day, huh?” he says, eyeing me warily now. He sees my tray, and it's nice of him to scoot back against the headboard and pull the sheet up around his waist so I have a place to put the food down on his lap. Which is exactly what I do, with a dramatic flourish. “Woah!” he exclaims when he sees what I’ve made for him. “Um, wow … this looks great! Thanks, Cass!”

I lean forward and give him a kiss him on the cheek and a hug around his neck. “You’re welcome, UncleDip!” Then I climb up and flop down beside him, grabbing my plate of pancakes from the tray. He coughs a few times and wiggles over to make more space for me, yanking with one hand at the bedsheet that I’ve just sat down on top of. He’s jiggling the tray a lot. “Pass the syrup would ya? And watch out for the milk!” I exclaim, seeing it slosh dangerously close to the rim.

“Oops! Heh heh,” he says, then he steadies the milk and hands over the Aunt Jemima. I pour a bunch out and pass the bottle back, carve out a forkful of pancakes, and stuff it into my mouth as I lean back and over onto my favorite uncle’s shoulder.

I look up at him. “Aren't you gonna eat, UncleDip?”

He swallows and clears his throat. I hope he's not coming down with a summer cold. “Yeah … okay,” he agrees. Hs starts digging in himself, I’m getting jostled around, but I don’t care. “Mmm! This is … pretty good!” he says, mouth partly occupied by eggs. “Did your Mom help you with all this?”

“Nope!” I say proudly, stealing a mouthful of his milk. “I did all of this myself! Mom didn’t even wake up the whole time.” Then I remember something, as I look up to the closed door. “She hasn’t come in yet. I’ll bet she’s still asleep! And it was so funny, the way she was sleeping, with her hair all over the place in her face!” I put my plate aside. “You’ve got to see this, UncleDip! Just come out real quiet out to the living room and you’ll see!” I scramble off the bed and scurry to the door.

But when I look back, he’s still sitting where he was, tray on his lap. “Hey … we should just let Mom sleep all right? It wouldn’t be nice to wake her up.”

I snort loudly. “Wake her up? Yeah right, UncleDip! She sleeps through anything!”

He shifts, arranging the tray on his lap. “Look, I’ve seen Mabel looking goofy lots of times. Let’s … Let’s just eat our breakfast, okay?”

“What gives?” I whine, marching back to the bed. “It’ll only take a second. You can finish eating after you see her!” I reach over and start grabbing the tray.

“No!” UncleDip barks out. I recoil and stumble back, surprised at the way he snapped at me. He closes his eyes and sighs. “Cass, I’m sorry,” he says, sounding apologetic. “But … I can’t get up right now.”

I cannot fathom why this is an issue. “Why not?” I ask, genuinely confused.

“Because …” he says as his cheeks bloom brightly, and he looks at a spot on the wall beside me, “... I’m not … wearing anything right now.”

I feel my own face get hot in an instant. “Oh!” I peep. It’s completely normal for UncleDip to casually walk around in just his undershorts. For him, it’s his pajamas, and it's what he’s always worn to bed. So I’m completely unprepared for this new mental picture. Against my will, my eyes drop to look in the direction of what’s beneath the sheet and the tray on his lap. Flinching, I then force my attention downwards, where for the first time I notice a pair of his boxers down on the floor at the foot of the bed. I wheel around to stare at the corner of the ceiling. I can’t really handle how weird this feels! Why is this so awkward? I was sitting right beside him and he was … naked! Ew!!

I can hear UncleDip is still squirming with the tray on his lap. “Look, it was really hot in here last night, and … I sure wasn’t expecting you to come in here this morning … so …” His explanation trails off. “Look … why don’t you just go back to your room for a minute? I’ll get dressed, and then we can go sneak out and laugh at your Mom. All right?”

Sounds good! I’ll do anything to end this. “Okay!” I hear my own voice say, then I bolt. I’m not really careful about being quiet, and the door closes loudly behind me.

As I reach my room, I hear Mom groan. “Is that you, Dip Dop?” she mumbles. I hear her making “bleyah” noises, presumably as she pulls her hair from her mouth.

I smile and roll my eyes, despite being grossed out just a few moments ago. “No Mom, it's me,” I reply, leaning into the living room. Mom’s an amazing sight in the morning, I’ll give her that! “Nice bed head you got there!” I tease.

Mom sticks out her tongue and blows a big raspberry at me as she pulls away the last strands from her face. “You besmirch me, Mini-me! You and that short hair of yours!” she grunts tiredly. “Where’s your sense of style? Your flair for the dramatic? Huh?”

It’s impossible to not laugh. “Mom! You’re so weird!”

“You know it, Junior!” she replies lazily, winking and firing fingerguns at me while staggering to her feet. I shake my head at her. Even though she’s a “grownup”, she’s never seems to try to look the part. Looking at her right now, with her wild hair and the long t-shirt that she wears for a nightgown, she could pass for a teenager. More than a few times, people have mistaken Mom and I as sisters, rather than mother and daughter.

Then Mom sees the carnage of dirty pans and bowls in the kitchen. “Has the Dipster been up already?” she asks me, now more awake.

“No, that was me,” I admit. “I wanted to surprise him with Uncle’s Day breakfast in bed. I brought it in to him a few minutes ago.”

“Oh! Isn’t that nice!” Mom perks up, giving me a hug and a kiss on the top of my head. “Well in that case, maybe I’d better skeedaddle in there and steal some for myself!” She starts down the hallway.

“Wait!” I call out. “You need to knock first. He-” I swallow down my embarrassment as Mom stops to look at me curiously. “I didn’t see anything, ‘cause he was under the bedsheet, but … he says he’s kinda … naked … in your bed.” I feel myself blush again.

For an instant, Mom makes a strange face. Kind of worry and funny combined into one. Then she smirks. “Really?” she says. “Well I guess after you surprised him, you got a bit of a surprise in return! The bashful broseph had better fix that, pronto!” She strides down and pounds on the bedroom door, smiling broadly. “Good morning Bro-bro! You’d better be decent now! You finished traumatising your niece?”

The door opens, revealing a red-faced UncleDip. He’s wearing his boxers, and rubbing the back of his neck vigorously. “Yeah … I didn’t mean to …” He glances at Mom, and she just looks way too happy to see her twin brother so uncomfortable. She’s making me feel sorry for the big dork! He glances at me, then lowers his gaze. “I’m sorry, Cassie. I know that was pretty weird for you. I tried to … you know …”

Seeing UncleDip all cringed up helps me get over my awkward feelings pretty quick. I smirk in way that probably looks an awful lot like Mom’s. “It’s okay, I get it!” I tell him. “Go finish your breakfast in bed. Mom, as long as you’re up, can you get the coffee maker out of the cupboard? I think UncleDip needs it!”

“It’ll cost you!” she fires back with a grin. “How about you make some pancakes for your dear decrepit mother, too?” She starts hobbling around stiffly. “So old! Need so much help at my advanced age!”

I roll my eyes. “Mo-om! You’re not old! You’re, what … twenty-six?”

“Twenty-seven!” she huffs. “Twenty-eight in just a couple of months, I’ll have you know!” She stoops over, putting a hand dramatically on her back. “Ooooh! Everything hurts!”

“Mom, you had your turn last month on Mother’s Day!” I scold her, as she continues to slowly shuffle around a chuckling UncleDip in a circle. I throw up my hands. “Okay fine!” I cry out in mock despair, and I turn around and march towards the kitchen. I can hear Mom dancing in celebration behind me. “Can you at least bring me my pancakes from your room?” I call over my shoulder.

“Okee Dokee!” I hear Mom reply behind me.

I put the pan back on the stove and start mixing a new batch of pancakes. As I’m measuring milk into the mixing bowl, Mom breezes in. “Go ahead and eat, Kiddo,” she says with a grin as she offers me my plate. “I’ll take over from here.”

“Thanks,” I reply. My stack is a little cold now, but I still shovel in a big mouthful. “I’m so glad you taught me the recipe for these, Mom!” I mumble with full cheeks. “These are the best pancakes ever!”

Mom smiles as she cracks an egg. “You need to thank your Great-Grunkle Stan,” she says wistfully. “It’s his ‘Stancake’ recipe. One of these days, we’ll get you out to the west coast so you can finally meet him.”

I feel a lunge of excitement in my chest at the mention of my great-great-uncle, and the memories of the stories of adventure Mom and UncleDip have told me about their time as kids in Gravity Falls. “You think we might be able to go this summer?” I ask, hopeful that this might finally be the year.

“I don’t know,” Mom replies softly, in a tone that I've learned means she’s being completely honest. “It’s such a long way, and travel is so expensive …” She pauses her whisking of the pancake batter and puts a hand on my shoulder. “We’re really gonna try, okay? I promise!”

Even though I can tell she truly wants me to be able to go, she wouldn’t mention the expense unless we really couldn’t afford the trip. So I know there’s basically no chance. But I put on a smile anyways. “Thanks, Mom,” I say.

Mom returns the sad smile, then hands me the bowl. “Here. Start pouring these out while I get the coffee maker down.” I ladle out three small circles of batter as Mom retrieves and plugs in the small appliance. “Dipper needs his caffeine when you wake him up this early!” she jokes. “Otherwise he’ll be super-surly all morning.”

“Maybe we could just let him go back to sleep?” I ask.

“No can do,” Mom replies, shaking her head. “Now that he’s up, he needs to stay up! We’re go- … we're going over to Westfield to take your grandparents out for lunch today. It’s, you know ... Father’s Day today for Grandpa, too.”

“Okay,” I say, aware of the sadness that just crept into Mom’s voice. She sounds like that every time she talks about Grandma and Grandpa. I know Mom and UncleDip don’t hate their parents, and I know my grandparents care about their only two children. But something is always off about the way they act around each other. I used to ask about what’s the matter, but I stopped asking a long time ago. For as long as I can remember there’s been something going on.

We continue to work in silence, me flipping pancakes and Mom preparing her own toast and UncleDip's coffee. In no time, everything is ready. After she finishes reloading the tray, I see a playful expression form again on Mom's face. “I think,” she says craftily, “that we should all finish up breakfast together on my bed. What d’ya say?”

I grin. “I say … last one there’s a rotten egg!” I cry, grabbing my plate and taking off across the living room.

“Ack! No fair, I’m carrying hot coffee! I’ll get you” Mom yells back from behind me. I laugh, knowing she'll never catch me, though she makes up ground as I fumble with the door handle.

UncleDip is munching on the last of his toast when we girls storm in, squealing and screeching happily. We manage to all pile onto Mom’s big bed safely without any major spills. UncleDip berates us for being so silly, but we make him smile after another kiss on the cheek from me and a nerdy secret handshake from Mom. One of those weird “twin things” they do, things that I admit sometimes that I wish I could do with a brother of my own. But then I immediately forget about things like stupid money problems and dumb family relationship stuff, as we start eating while chatting about my geography project, Mom’s latest craft sale success, and how we all wished the heat of summer hadn’t arrived quite so early.

I spend a lazy morning with my two favorite people in the world. I love them both so much, and I know they both love me, too.

What a great way to spend the morning, I think to myself. Things may not be perfect, but I’m still a pretty lucky kid!

Gnuuugh! This is … déjà vu! Seriously, it's got to be!

I'm lying down on my side, struggling to cover my eyes from the bright light as I roll over onto my back. And I'm feeling that really nasty, really gross “awakened after a short daytime nap” feeling. Surely I'm not the only one who knows what this feels like? I groan under my breath and glance at my tablet beside me, to see that Stephanie sent me a Wave, and the dumb notification woke me up.

Somewhere in this, I figure out I’m in my room, on my bed. How did I get here? The last thing I remember was … Grandpa and Grandma’s house? No, the diner. Wait no, it was after that … we had said goodbye to Grandpa and Grandma after that really nice lunch, and I was in our car. I must have fallen asleep in the backseat on our way home. Now that I think about it, getting up real early, having a full breakfast and a heavy lunch, and then the nice, rocking motions of the car ride after that … yup, that’ll put me to sleep every time!

I smack my lips and try to swallow down the stale taste in my mouth. My chest feels like someone’s sitting on it. Yuck! I hate this! I was feeling really good today, too! I even missed out on UncleDip carrying me up here! Maybe I’ll just go back to sleep. No, then I’ll never get up for school tomorrow. Nnnnggghhhh!!! After a long stretch, I force my body to a sitting position with all the grace of a zombie.

My grumpy condition requires someone to feel sorry for me, and I know Mom will be more than willing to sympathize. I deserve a nice big hug, I think, so I get to my feet and shuffle into the hallway as I scratch my scalp sleepily.

I lean into the living room. Nobody here. I meander into the opening to the kitchen alcove. Nobody here either. Hm! I want my hug! I know I’m being a big baby, but I don’t care. Mom will indulge me!

Staggering lightly back the other way down the hallway, I see the bathroom door is wide open, and the light is off. Sure enough, it’s empty as I pass by.

Only one place left where she can be. Her bedroom door is right in front of me, now. It’s mostly closed, but the opening is wide enough for the sun from her window to paint a narrow column of afternoon light across the floor and up the wall in the hallway.

I put up my hand to push the door open, but I stop when I hear Mom giggle quietly. What’s she laughing at?

Again I’m about to open the door, when I hear a soft gasp. Instantly I know that wasn’t Mom. Even though I’ve never heard him make a sound quite like that, I’m certain that it was made by UncleDip. What’s going on?

My brain is finally firing at something close to one hundred percent, and some instinct tells me to not barge in anymore. My palm is still raised, an inch from the surface of the door, but I don’t push it open. I can’t.

New sounds reach my ears from the other side. I hear fabric being rubbed and rustled. Like when you run hands roughly over clothes. Wait … What?

Without even thinking, I ease my head towards the opening. Now there's the sounds of tiny pants and moans, unmistakably being made by my mother and uncle. The only place I’ve ever heard noises like that was on shows with romance-y stuff! No way! It … can’t be! I have to be wrong!

My hand moves automatically, carefully and silently supporting myself on the door frame as my head moves towards the opening, and I peer into Mom’s room. I'm blinded for a moment by the brightness of the light from her window, but my vision immediately starts adjusting. Meanwhile, there's no mistaking the soft smacks of lips moving against one another.

As my eyes adjust, they reveal what my ears have already told me I’d see. Mom and UncleDip, standing and holding each other near the far wall … kissing one another!

I close my eyes for a second. Ohmygod I don’t believe this! What’s happening? Is this even real? My ears tell me yes, as the sounds of their passionate embrace continues. I look again, and yep … they’re kissing, all right! And not just any kiss: this is serious! Serious as in “bodies mashed together, hands touching all over, ewwww I can even see their tongues touching” serious!

Of course, I’ve seen kissy stuff on shows and movies before, even some more grown-up sexy stuff. But I’m completely not prepared for this! Mom … with UncleDip? They’re brother and sister! They’re best friends! They’re … they’re freaking Mom and UncleDip! This isn’t them! They don’t do this stuff! It’s just … not right!! But I’m so shocked by this, I can’t look away!

For how long I’ve been gawking at them, I don’t know. But I doubt I’ve breathed once since the peep show began, and my lungs signal that they’ve apparently had enough and I need oxygen immediately. I turn away from the door in a panic and lean against the wall as I take several huge heaving breaths as quietly and as slowly as I can, my heart pounding loudly in my ears.

The noises in the bedroom stop. Oh crap! Did they hear me? My adrenaline spikes, fear coursing through me. What’s going to happen to me when they find me out here, spying on them?

Then I hear UncleDip’s quiet voice, barely above a whisper. “I love you, Mabes,” he says.

“I love you, too,” I hear Mom coo back.

OK, they didn’t hear me! They just stopped to say they love each other. That’s a small relief. My racing heart slows a touch, but I’m still scared. Maybe I should-

Wait … they … love each other? I’ve heard them tell each other that before, but this sounded different!

I hear more kissing at this point, and their lovey noises are a bit faster. Then there’s a loud lip smack and Mom murmurs, “Dip, please! Cass is asleep! I need you! Now!”

She needs him now? Needs him to do what?

Oh my god … no!

A short pause. Then comes UncleDip’s whisper. “OK! Let me close the door.”

My heart leaps so high in my chest, I don’t know if I’ll ever swallow again! Never have I tip-toed so quickly in my life! I fly down the hallway to my room as fast and as silently as my stocking feet can get me there, ducking through my door a second before I hear Mom’s door snap shut, followed by the rarely-heard noise of the lock being turned.

I lean against the wall, panting raggedly. What the … what the hell? Are UncleDip and Mom really gonna … do it? As in … SEX?! Ew! EWWWWW!!!!! Mom’s given me the “how babies are made” talk, so I know exactly what it means. I’ve wondered what it might feel like for myself to do things like that. I’ve even managed to wrap my head around the icky idea that Mom has, at one time, done stuff like this with a boy in the past. After all, I’m here aren’t I? But I never expected to be faced with thinking about sex at a time like this!

What am I supposed to do now? Do I just sit here and wait for them to … finish up? Eechh, no! What if can hear them .... doing it? GROSS!! This is all way too weird!

I want to run right out the door and get away! But I can’t just leave! I’ve never just walked out of the apartment onto the street by myself, not without at least telling Mom or UncleDip where I’m going. I sure as heck can’t start right now!

I compromise. I can’t leave, but I can remove myself as much as possible from what’s happening. I take my headphones and power them up as I put them over my ears. I crank the volume on my tablet, playing my music as loud as I can stand, and then curl up on my bed. I’m just going to ignore this whole thing for as long as I can!

I don’t know how much time goes by. At least a half hour, probably more. But at some point I see someone in the doorway out of the corner of my eye. I stop playback, pull my headphones off, and try to look casual as I raise my head. Mom’s standing there. She looks completely normal.

“Hey, Pumpkin Bumpkin! Have a nice nap?” she asks.

“Yeah. I just woke up,” I say. I’m not good at lying, but I have to be convincing today. How convincing will Mom be? I take a breath. “What were you doing while I was asleep?”

“Ah, you know!” she replies, crossing her arms and leaning against my dresser. “Just puttering around, starting to clean up after that big breakfast you made us.” She scratches an itch on the side of her nose. “Dipper was helping me fold our laundry in my room. Stuff like that, you know?”

Yeah sure. Stuff just like that. Right, Mom.

Not trusting myself to look her in the eye, I turn to my put my electronics back on the charge stand. “I think I’m gonna just work on my geography project. Can you close my door on your way out?”

“Sure thang!” she says, stepping closer to ruffle my hair. “Call me or UncleDip if you need any help, okay?” Then she walks out of my room, closing my door behind her.

Nothing! She not only lied about what she was doing, she’s acting like nothing weird happened at all!

I barely have a moment to contemplate this when there’s a quick knock. “Cass?” comes UncleDip’s voice.

“Yeah?” I call back, unable to say anything different.

UncleDip cracks open the door just enough to poke his head through. “I’m going down to the market. Any requests for dinner tonight? It’s my turn to cook.”

Again, nothing! He’s completely … normal! No sign at all! If I hadn’t overheard what happened, I’d never know!

“S’okay, UncleDip,” I tell him, attempting to sound like my normal self. “I’m good with whatever.”

UncleDip waves, his smile warm and genuine. “Okay! Work hard. And I love you!”

I don’t know what to say to either of them right now. Thankfully, he closes the door before I can allow myself to say anything more.

I actually make progress on drawing the map of Africa I’m working on. I don’t know how, because my brain is busy thinking about something entirely different.

Incest.

It’s such an ugly word. As ugly as what it means. I know what it is, mainly hearing about it on TV and the Internet, but I’ve heard kids at school mention it too. It’s not right. It’s illegal. There are lots of jokes and insults about people who like to … have sex … with their own relatives. They’re really stupid or retarded. Or it's abusive, someone who takes advantage of another family member who’s weaker than themselves. Everything about it is unnatural! It’s disgusting!

My first instinct is denial. Maybe I misunderstood what I saw and heard. Maybe there’s another explanation!

Yeah … no. What I saw and heard was pretty darned self-explanatory.

If I can’t deny what I saw, I desperately reach for any other reason to explain what they were doing. Maybe … maybe they aren’t really brother and sister! If they aren’t related, what they just did would be okay, right?

But of course they’re brother and sister! They’re twins! They have pictures and videos of themselves as kids and teenagers together. Grandma has shown me all kinds of other pictures of them too, right from the day they were born.

So that’s it. Incest. It’s exactly what Mom and UncleDip are doing! I accept this fact as I pick up my colored pencils and begin shading countries.

How could they do this? Don’t they know they shouldn’t do this? Even I know how wrong it is! Are they that stupid? I’ve always thought they were so smart, but … how can they be if they’re doing this? Maybe that’s why we’re so poor all the time! Are Mom and UncleDip too dumb to get good jobs?

And how long has this been going on? It didn’t look like today was their first time doing stuff like that. They were way too comfortable with what they were doing. I’ll bet they’ve been doing this for awhile. I think about clues that have been staring me in the face all along. They both keep all their clothes in Mom’s room, so they probably have been undressed in the same room lots of times. When I’ve gone in there any day in the morning, Mom always sleeps on the left side, but when UncleDip is there he sleeps on the right side. I’ll bet they share Mom’s bed all the time, since I’m rarely awake when one of them pulls out the sofa. I'll bet that's why UncleDip was naked this morning! They’ve been sneaking around and lying to me for a long time!

I feel myself get angrier by the minute, the more I think about it. My pencil presses harder into the paper with each stroke of color. This is really … shitty … of them! They’re being disgusting and perverted, right down the hall from me. Don’t they care? This is awful! What if Stephanie finds out? What will she think? What about all the other kids at school? Or my teachers? Or Grandma and Grandpa?

My blood runs cold as I think of my grandparents. They must know! More pieces start falling into place. This would explain the tension that is always between them! Grandpa and Grandma found out about what they do, and must have told them to stop. UncleDip and Mom must have said no.

Is that why they both left home in Westfield when they finished high school? Could they really have been doing this for that long? If so, it would explain a lot. Mom and UncleDip are old, but they’re not old. I’ve kind of wondered why UncleDip and Mom never go out on any dates, why they never seem to want to find a girlfriend or boyfriend. If I’m right about this, then they’ve been doing this since I was two. That’s nine years!

This has to have been so hard on Grandma and Grandpa! Their children decide to start a gross relationship together, and what were they supposed to do? Just tell them to go ahead? I’m sure they fought a lot. And then there was me, I was still a toddler. They had to watch Mom walk out of their house and pull me with them. I wonder if they wanted to keep me away from all this? Could they have tried to keep me? And should I think about living with them instead, now that I know? Surely they’d take me in! It would probably be good if they did!

The lead snaps on the red pencil I’m using, and I don't even slow down as I pick up a purple one and start in on another country.

The more I think about it, the more convinced I am about needing to get away from my mother and uncle. What kind of people have I been living with? Is it safe for me here? If my uncle could do this with his sister, might he also want to try … with me? I would never want that!

Would Mom protect me? I want to believe she would, but obviously she’s got issues! I’ve never wanted to think too hard about this, but she’s not got a great history of being responsible in the sex department. I did the math a long time ago, and she had to have been only fifteen when she got pregnant with me! She went to a party when they lived in California, got drunk, and some guy took advantage of her. If she let that happen, then she’s not the best person to-

Woah! Who says that’s really what happened to Mom in California? I mean, this is what Mom has always told me! But I only have her word that the story is true, and now I’m pretty sure now that she’s been lying to me for years. She’s never had any information about who my father is, never been able to describe a single thing about him. What he looked like. How old he was. Even a first name! She says she was drunk, but I’ve never seen her get drunk in my life. And also, she never went to anyone else who was at the party to ask about the guy? Then or since? And UncleDip didn’t either? They’re the biggest mystery-solving nerds I’ve ever seen, and together they found nothing? Finding out who the father of your child is seems like a pretty important thing that Mom would have wanted to know, if it was possible to find out. I feel like an idiot for never noticing this, but I’ve never had reason to question anything about my past until now.

So the story doesn’t make sense. It could very well be that Mom made up the story. But why? The only reason I can think of is to hide the identity of the baby’s father. So maybe Mom does know who the father is! I wonder wh-

… Wait ...

My pencil stops moving. All thought of working on the map has completely disappeared now.

No … no way …

I was thinking that Mom and UncleDip have been “involved” since I was two years old. What if- … What if it’s been even longer? What if they’ve been doing this since before they moved to New Jersey?

What if …

I turn my head to the mirror on my wall. Lifting the bangs off of my forehead, I expose my Cassiopeia-shaped birthmark. The location for a birthmark that I’ve been told runs in the Pines family … even though I’ve only ever seen a similar birthmark on just one other family member.

… What if ...

There’s a light tap at my door. I recognize the speed and pattern, and I know who it is. I glance at my tablet, and see that it’s half past eleven at night. I should have expected this. The tap comes again. I hear a soft voice through the door. “Cassie?”

I sigh and sit up on the side of my bed. “Yeah?” I reply.

UncleDip eases the door open. “I saw your light on under the door. Why are you still up? You’ve got school tomorrow.”

I look at him intently. He looks and acts like the same UncleDip I’ve known my whole life. Earlier this evening, when I came out for dinner, he was the same. A bit later when I came out for a drink of milk, and I found him and Mom relaxed on the sofa watching TV, he was the same. So was Mom. And she was the same when she said goodnight to me almost two hours ago.

UncleDip slowly comes in. “Cass?” he asks. “What’s the matter?” He closes my door behind him, steps around the fan that’s blowing air towards the bed, and sits down on the mattress near me. “You’ve been really quiet since you woke up from that nap today.” He’s concerned. Of course he is. UncleDip has always cared about me. My gaze wavers.

He puts his hand on my back. “Hey. I know Mom’s gone to bed already, but … I’m here …” He’s awkward, because he knows that Mom usually handles the deep stuff. “You wanna talk?”

This isn’t what I wanted to happen, not now. I had figured I’d try to quietly research some more, just to see if I could be sure.

But I feel the dam breaking. I can’t look him in the eye, but I also can’t stop my mouth from moving.

“... Are … are you my father?” I ask weakly.

There’s silence for a moment beside me. I feel his palm twitch on my back. Then he inhales sharply, followed by light ragged gasps. “Wh- why would you ask that, Cass?” he stammers.

I stare at the wall. I’m biting my lip, but I don’t back down. “Is it true?” My voice is shaky.

His hand pulls away. “Cassie, I don’t think we shou-”

“I saw you two this afternoon!” I snap quietly, mustering all the courage of my conviction. “You were hugging and kissing. You were touching each other all over. You closed the door … and then you had sex, didn’t you?” I finally force myself to glance at him again. I've never seen him look so frightened. “Yes, or no?” Some of the anger from this afternoon is back. So is the anxiety. I need to know, one way or the other.

UncleDip swallows hard. He’s trembling, his breathing fast and shallow. He looking everywhere but at me. I know him well enough to know that he’s thinking about all his options, trying to figure out in his head as quickly as possible what is the best thing to do.

Finally, with one deep breath, he focuses on me. For a long moment he’s as rigid as stone. So am I.

“I am your uncle, Cassie …” he says in a voice so soft I can barely hear him. Then, he nods almost imperceptibly. “But yeah … I’m also your father.”

There it is! Everything I suspected is real! He admitted it!

I’m not sure what I’m supposed to feel now. There’s the anger and betrayal that I’d been nursing this afternoon. There’s other feelings about … well, about what all this means about me … that has crept in as well. And sure enough, I feel that pieces of these emotions are churning away in my stomach.

But they don’t explode. I don’t let them.

He’s speaking to me again. “I’m sorry we haven’t told you before. We’ve …. always planned to tell you. Just … when you were a little older, you know?”

I just sit here, my brain going a mile a minute, staring into the face of a man who I’ve known and trusted my entire life. This is a mind-blowing admission! He’s different, isn’t he? Everything’s different! Right? Hasn’t everything changed?

“But you know why we couldn’t risk telling you, don’t you?” he continues. “You know why we have to keep all this a secret?”

I nod absently. Of course I get it. Because it’s embarrassing! It’s wrong! Brothers and sisters aren’t supposed to have children. Because they’d be born freaks! They’d be deformed, and retarded!

But doesn’t that mean that … I’m the same way?

For hours now, I’ve been resisting accepting my theory that UncleDip is my father, mainly for this reason. I always thought I was, you know, pretty normal. As I’ve been thinking about all this stuff this evening, I’ve been holding onto my “ordinary-ness” as evidence that maybe I’ve been wrong in my suspicion.

But no. Turns out I am a freak, after all! I begin counting off everything that has set me apart. My weird fashion style. My loud, stupid laugh. The way I always question and argue about stuff in class. My obsession with history and old things. The need for my ugly glasses. And my ugly face, too! And of course, the gross birthmark. Let's face it, I’m an inbred monster! I’ve been kidding myself, thinking I was like everyone else. No wonder I’m so-

“Hey,” UncleDip says gently. I flinch, rousing myself from my thoughts. I realize I was just staring off into space, probably looking like I might cry. Now the shame of what I am really hits me, and the tears begin for real. I want to sink into a hole.

But UncleDip is trying to help, I know he is. He knows exactly what’s spinning in my head, even though I haven’t said a word. “You’ve heard stories about this kind of thing, haven’t you?’ he asks. “You’re thinking that because your parents are related, there’s something wrong with you. Aren’t you?” He’s doing his best to be soothing. I nod silently as I try to stifle my sobs, a tear dropping from my cheek onto my lap. He moves to kneel in front of me. “Cassie, those stories are exaggerated observations of genetics and birth defects. There are risks of development problems with the birth of every baby in this world. And yeah ... it’s true that there’s a higher risk of problems in children from a situation like ours, but it’s still unlikely for there to be anything wrong. And in your case, there isn’t anything wrong! You’re perfect, Cassie!”

That’s not what I’d heard. I just assumed that the things I'd heard about incest children were accurate. Do I trust he's the one being truthful now? I sure want to trust him, but …

He reaches up to touch my face, something that’s a totally normal thing for him to do for as long as I can remember. But I flinch again. I don’t really mean to, but I still don’t know how I should feel about UncleDip anymore. This is all so strange!

He pulls back quickly, almost like I burned his hand. For an instant, I see his own hurt expression. He covers it up really quickly though, and straightens up to his feet. “Look, Cass … maybe you need your mom right now.” He starts towards the door. “I’ll … I’ll go get her-”

“No!” I say, loud enough to stop him in his tracks. “I want you to stay!” A part of me agrees with the suggestion that he go wake up Mom, and that part of me knows that I would feel … safer … with her here. But no, that only confirms that I’m a least a little afraid of UncleDip now, even if I don’t want to be. I’ve always hated being scared of anything, and I’m not going to be scared of UncleDip! I’m still averting my gaze, but I want him to explain to me what’s going on.

And he’s got a lot to explain before I feel any less icky about all of this!

Neither of us say anything for a long moment. He’s just standing in the middle of the room, probably feeling as super-awkward about this as I do. Finally, he clears his throat. “Can I just, I don’t know … talk to you about your mother and I?”

I force myself to look at him. Sure enough, he looks like the same old UncleDip. I relax a little and nod towards the foot of the bed.

He gives me a little smile and carefully sits down again, leaving a lot of space. He takes a couple of breaths. “Mabel and I …” he begins, “... we’ve told you before that we were super-close growing up. Sure, we both had other friends, Mabel more than me. But nobody else could ever be what we were to each other. I mean … I guess it was never spoken out loud, but there was never a question that … she was my best friend, and vice versa! We always had each other, from before we were even born! I don’t know any other brothers and sisters that had the kind of … connection … that we had when we were kids.”

Oh man, that actually … sounds kind of cool! I try to imagine having a brother who is such a close friend, someone who would always be with me, someone who I could always trust. Stephanie hates her brother, and most of my other friends who have brothers say the same thing! I’ve often wished for a little brother to be able to boss around or play with, but what UncleDip describes sounds amazing!

He shifts his position, hunching his shoulders slightly. “I wasn’t much older than you when I sort of realized that … I felt even more for Mabel … a lot more!” He looks at me sideways, looking kind of like he's sorry. “You can’t know how it feels, and I can’t come close to describing it. There’s such a huge difference between what a normal family usually calls ‘love’, and the love that I felt for Mabel. I may have been only thirteen, but growing up together, sharing so much with her and experiencing so many crazy adventures with her … I just couldn’t imagine not being with her! I needed to protect her, I needed her to be happy!” He got a faraway look on his face. “And I needed to spend every moment I could with her, because being close to her made me happy, too. I didn’t just love her. I was in love with her!”

He's right. I know that I've never felt anything like that for anyone. There have been a couple of boys in the last few years that I've wanted to be friends with, maybe a little closer friends than most of the other jerky boys in my school. But what he's describing sounds way more intense than any of those feelings! I actually feel jealous, because I would love it for someone to feel like that for me. It sounds … really beautiful!

Wait … beautiful? Did I just think that UncleDip being in love with his own sister … is beautiful?

There’s a long pause before he keeps going, his eyes glazing over. “I knew, of course, it was wrong to think that way about my sister. I thought … at first I just thought I was pretty screwed up. Then, after our second summer in Gravity Falls, I tried to get used to it. I stayed as close to her as I could, as close as I thought I could get away with, all through our freshman year in high school. But in the end, for almost two years, I didn’t say or do anything more than be a good brother.” The way he says the word “brother”, he sounds so bitter and frustrated. “I had the most wonderful, the most amazing and beautiful girl in the world … she was right there next to me … and I couldn’t tell her how I felt! I honestly thought that I would spend my entire life like that … this close-” he gestured into the air with his finger and thumb a millimeter apart “-to the relationship I wanted with Mabel, but never nearly close enough.”

I should be grossed out by hearing this. I mean, I’m listening to UncleDip telling me about how hard it was falling in love with Mom! Instead, my insides are squeezing in really tight, and I can feel myself wanting to cry.

“It was the end of Grade 9, late at night after she came home from the school prom. I didn’t go, since I didn’t see the point. The only girl I could possibly want to dance with was Mabel. She apparently didn't have a great time, either. We were both talking and moping in her room … We ended up giving each other a hug. That was no big deal, we hugged a lot … but this one was really nice and close, we just hugged for a long time …” UncleDip drew a shaky breath, “... and then she whispered in my ear … that she loved me!” He sniffs, wiping at his eyes and nose with his hand, and turns his head back to me. “Your Mom was the brave one,” he continues, a lop-sided smile now spreading on his face. “I didn’t know it, but she was holding back the same kinds of feelings inside her, for almost as long as I was! When she said that, I was so blown away, I almost couldn’t tell her I loved her, too! But I managed, somehow. It was … it was the most important moment in my life! It was the moment I finally knew I would be with Mabel … no matter what the obstacles.”

Gosh darn it, I am crying now! A bunch of tears fall down my cheeks as my chest shakes. I run out of breath and gasp, then I start to sob quietly. I can’t help it! It’s so beautiful and sad! UncleDip grabs a tissue box from my dresser and hands it to me, after he pulls one out for himself. He blows his nose as I try to pull myself back together.

Soon I manage to get myself composed. UncleDip seems lost in his memories again. “Sorry, I’m okay now,” I say a bit unsteadily, pulling his attention back. “I’m ready.”

He looks back at me, a little weirdly. “Ready for what?” he asks.

I make a soft snort of disbelief. I wonder how UncleDip can be so dense sometimes, as I give my eyes another swipe with a fresh tissue. “For the rest of the story, of course!” I say. “What happened after that?”

UncleDip’s face gets really red, really fast. He rubs the back of his head and he looks down, his expression getting all dorky. What’s wrong with him now?

“Uhh …” he says slowly, “... well … you know, that’s … I don’t know if I should …” He stops and clears his throat. After visibly bracing himself, he takes a deep breath and looks at me. “When two people love each other, they want to be closer to each other … First, it starts with hugging, then kissing …” His lips press together tightly, and he almost looks like he’s in pain. Then he closes his eyes and inhales again. “There are differences between the male and female bodies. As boys and girls get older, a lot happens to these different body parts, and they want to-”

I finally clue in to what UncleDip is trying to say, and I slam my palms to my ears and squeeze my eyes shut as fast as I can. “Ahh! Ew Ew! Quit it quit it quit it ewwwwww!” I wail, though I do try to keep my voice down. Did I really need to have him try explain how he and Mom got ... together together? How could he think I would ever want to hear this? Yuck!! “Ohmygod gross, I can’t- UncleDip! Just … EWWY-EWWY-EWWWWWWWY-YYYAAGGGHHHHPPHHHTT!!” I finish, blurting out my disgust and shivering all over.

UncleDip looks for-real confused. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I wasn’t going- … I thought you said-”

“I already know how that stuff works,” I moan, interrupting him. “I really don’t want to know about how you and … Mom ... BLAGH!!” I suppress another shiver that tries to run down my back. “No, I meant what happened after that? Like, with your relationship, and Grandpa and Grandma, and stuff.” I shake my head at him, amazed at how dumb he can be.

I see the relief practically pour out of him. “Oh!” he says sheepishly, then he looks thoughtful for a moment. “Okay, well … obviously we knew we couldn’t tell anyone about what we’d just discovered, certainly not Mom and Dad. But after so long holding our secrets inside ourselves, it was such an amazing thing to share our feelings with each other! I was almost desperate to spend every moment I could with her, to be as close as I could.

“But we still had exams on the last week of school,” he chuckles. “I think that was the worst set of exams I’ve ever written! But the next day after exams finished, we got back on the bus up to Gravity Falls for the third time.” He immediately looks embarrassed again. “Every year we visited up there, we always slept in the same room in the attic together. Well that year, we … we did a lot more than sleep up there all summer.”

My stomach turns. “UncleDiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip!” I groan miserably.

He puts up his hands apologetically. “I’m only telling you because I want you to understand why things happened the way they did. Okay?” I grumble, but reluctantly nod. I want to hear this, and if I throw up, well then I guess I throw up.

UncleDip locks his hands together in his lap. “My point is that we had a lot of privacy and time together. More than we could have ever hoped, and way more than we have ever had at any time since! It was a lot of freedom to give to two kids who were still only fourteen years old. Both of us were just wishing that we could ignore the facts about our relationship, feeling like it was just us against the world. We were already close before all this happened. That summer, we became even closer than close. We became twins, best friends, and … well, lovers … all wrapped up in one.” He purses his lips and looks down. “It made things a lot harder when we went back home to California.”

I think I understand why. “Because you had to be a lot more careful about not getting caught,” I say, “and you couldn’t spend as much time together as you could before.”

“That’s right,” he nods. “We wanted to have everything we had when we were up North. So we took advantage of every opportunity we had. To be … you know ... “ he lifts his locked hands up and squeezes them a few times, “... together.” I glare at him threateningly. He ignores it.

“And honestly we were really good at keeping it a secret. We never raised any suspicions.” Then he barks a stifled laugh. “But even without anyone ever catching on, over Christmas break that year … we kind of slipped up.” He flops his head down towards me and gives me a meaningful look.

I get it right away. “Mom got pregnant with me. Right?”

UncleDip nods again. “Yeah. We found out in March, just as we were all getting ready to leave for winter break vacation the next morning. It was a heck of a shock! We had to decid-” he cuts himself off, then starts again. “We knew that we couldn’t get through it without help, and we had to tell our parents.” He squirms awkwardly and looks away. “Telling Mom and Dad that night … telling them that Mabel was pregnant, and that I was the father … that was rough,” he says, shaking his head slowly.

I wait for UncleDip to elaborate, but he just stops. My curiosity gets the better of me. “Were they … really mad?” I ask timidly.

“Oh yes,” he replies softly, and I don’t think I’ll get more out of him than that. I can’t help but wonder what happened, and I get a sense of why Mom and UncleDip have put up the barrier that exists between themselves and my grandparents. A chill runs down my spine.

“Anyways,” he continues, “we moved to New Jersey the summer before you were born. Your grandparents made darned sure we did our part to care for you. Your Mom and I had to work really hard. I had to get after-school and weekend jobs to earn as much money as I could to help out, while keeping my grades up. It seemed like I barely saw you at all your first two years growing up.” He tenses up. “But your Mom … she had to keep going to high school for two more years, even though she still took care of you as much as possible. She hardly ever got to do anything else. All your playing and learning, all the feeding and changing, from the moment she came home from school right through the night … she did everything she could. And she had to fit homework and sleep somewhere in there, too. I have no idea how much sleep either of us got during that time.”

That sounds terrible! I’ve seen television! Life is supposed to be fun when you go to high school!

Then he focuses back on me again. “I’m sorry, Cassie. Please don’t start being mad at Grandma and Grandpa, too. We shouldn’t really blame them for being so angry at what we did. Lots of parents would have just kicked us out, or sent one of us away. And with how old fashioned they are, they very easily could have done either one of those things. But they didn't! They knew that it would be dangerous for the two of us in California. If Mabel stayed to give birth there, people could easily find out there was no wild party where Mabel got drunk and was taken advantage of, and they’d figure out that no one but me could have been the father. So we had to pack up and move really quickly. Dad had to ask his company to give him a worse job so he could be transferred to Newark, and Mom lost her entire career. They gave up a lot because of Mabel and me.”

I guess that makes sense. I’ve certainly always thought that my grandparents were nice people. I don’t want to think of them as mean.

“But still, the hardest part for us was ...” UncleDip pauses and swallows, “... was that they forbid allowing us to be together at all.” He takes a deep breath, and lets it out. “We understood why. We didn’t know anyone at all when we moved here, but Mom and Dad knew it wouldn’t stay that way. Neighbors, school friends, teachers, Dad’s co-workers …people would know that Mabel had a baby, and no one else could ever find out that I had anything to do with you being born. Plus … they didn’t really trust that we wouldn’t … you know, slip up again,” he quipped, a half-smile forming and quickly fading. “They forced us to only be brother and sister. I think they hoped that us being together was something that we’d outgrow, a mistake that wouldn’t ever happen again. I’m sure they thought we would find other people, and just be normal!”

He shrugs exaggeratedly. “No such luck for them! You pulled us even closer together! For those two years, we poured everything we had into being the best parents we could for you. Working that hard every day, knowing it was for you, and for each other … it didn’t weaken our commitment to each other at all! If anything, we proved to each other that our relationship was more than … you know, physical. It was love! After we got through high school, we knew that we loved each other more than ever!”

Oh my gosh … that’s sooooo … sooooooooooo …

More tears fall down my face again as I completely give in to what I feel is the truth. I believe him! I really believe him now! UncleDip and Mom aren’t just having sex with each other. They aren’t being gross or disgusting at all. They’re … in love!! They’re just in love with each other! And it’s so obvious now! Why couldn’t I see it?

And that also means they were truly in love when … when … when they made me! I really start to bawl happily now, as I hadn’t realized how insecure this had made me feel all evening. I wasn’t simply the end result of an act of perverted pleasure. I was created by two people out of their complete love for each other!

I cry for quite a while, while UncleDip holds me and rubs my back. There is no hint of fear or trepidation of him left inside me. I feel completely content and safe, knowing he’s protecting me. Eventually my sniffling calms down, and I wipe my face with a tissue again. I feel so much better now.

But why can’t everyone feel better, I wonder? “What about Grandma and Grandpa?” I mumble into UncleDip’s chest. “Don’t they understand any of this?”

He sighs in resignation. “I don’t think they’ll ever really accept how your mother and I feel for each other, so they’ll never be happy for us.” He takes me by my shoulders and holds me out at arm’s length so we can look at one another. “But we know, in their way, that they do still love us. And we know they love you very much, too!”

I bob my head, showing him I understand, but I’m struggling. This is a lot of stuff to dump on a kid all at once! And if I’m honest, I’m getting pretty sleepy. Even with that nap I had, this has been a really long, emotional day. But I’m determined to absorb all of this I can get. As long as I can convince UncleDip to keep talking about this-

UncleDip smirks at me. “I think you’ve had enough for tonight, Cass. Maybe you need to try to sleep?”

I slump. Darn it, I must have some really obvious thing I do when I’m tired, but trying not to look tired. I’ve got to find out what that is and work on that! I see UncleDip’s smirk get bigger. Ack! He knows exactly what I’m thinking, that I need to improve my acting game. And now he’s trying not to laugh! “Agh! Stop reading my mind! It’s not fair!” I cry out in half-serious frustration.

“Hey, it’s perfectly fair. It’s not my fault I know you so well.” he chuckles. Then he looks at me in that squishy “I love you Cassie” look I adore so much. “I should know you really well. After all …” his face twitches as his smile gets even bigger, “... you are my daughter!”

His daughter. He’s right, I am! And that’s still pretty weird to think about.

I’m trying to process all I’ve heard. It’s not often that your life gets turned completely upside down, and I know it’s going to take a while before I really get a handle on this. But one thing is for sure, and that is that I’m not disgusted by all of this. Not anymore. If I’m not freaking out about it, then I’ll take that as a good sign that I’ll get used to it.

He pats me on the shoulder. “What d’ya say we pick this back up in the morning?” he asks me gently. “I think we all need to call in sick tomorrow so we can stay home and discuss everything. I know your Mom will want to have a big talk with you about how you’re feeling about all this.”

I look up at him. “Is she going to be upset that I found out?”

“No! Of course not, Cass,” he reassures me. “But you’re learning all about this when you’re a lot younger than we hoped you’d be. It’s a pretty huge deal. There’s a lot more we have to tell you, to make sure you understand what all this means to our family.” He gives my shoulder a little shake. “Okay?”

“Okay,” I reply, a yawn escaping from my mouth. After I put my glasses on the night table, I crawl up to the top of my bed and pull back the thin sheet. UncleDip stands and leans over me as I put my head down on my pillow. He smiles his squishy smile again. “I love you, Cassie. Nothing about today changes anything about that. I’ve always loved you, and I always will.”

“I know. I love you, too,” I sigh back, feeling sleepy now.

“Goodnight” he whispers. He places his lips gently on my forehead and gives me a long kiss on the spot he always kisses me. Right on my birthmark.

The birthmark I got from him! From my … father!

I really should say one more thing before I fall asleep. But I already feel so sluggish. What do I say ...

He gets to his feet and picks up my tablet, putting it on its stand for me. “Almost midnight,” he mutters as he glances at the screen, and heads toward the door.

Almost midnight! It’s still Sunday! The perfect words come to me in an instant.

“Hey!” I exclaim weakly. He turns, and I lift my arms towards him. “Happy Father’s Day … Dad!”

My father instantly is back and he’s hugging me really tight, and I hear and feel him start to cry. I hug and cry back until I can’t stop the fatigue from overtaking me. Still, I’m secure in the knowledge that no matter how weird this all is, or how strange his feelings are for Mom, my UncleDip is now the best Dad I could ever hope for. I feel myself slip away, safe and warm as he quietly holds me in his arms.

... Best … Dad … ... ever ….

(My Master Fic Post)

#pinecest #unexpected au

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tingleparker · 7 years ago

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Hate to Admit

Brett Talbot x Reader

•Summary: Y/n has joined Devenfords lacrosse team.The day of the scrimmage against Beacon hills, Y/n finds her self being something she wouldn’t have ever dreamed of, let’s just say she needs to get her answers from a certain jerk.

•Warnings: None

•Word count- 2010

A/n: First imagine, probably very bad & I apologize in advance :-)

Brett Talbot, biggest jerk I know but also the captain of the lacrosse team I’m in. Although I’m lucky that they let a girl on the team, being with competitive jocks almost everyday is a pain in the ass but I guess its tolerable. Anyways today is the scrimmage against Beacon Hills, nerves and excitement washes over me as the bus pulled up into the opponents car park. I look out of the dirty bus window as I wait for my peers to file out. I see Brett surrounded by teammates standing tall over Liam. Liam Dunbar got kicked out of Devenford for destroying our coaches car, classified with having IED and one of my good friends. I try but struggle to push past the last few guys walking out the bus, trying to get out before either Brett or Liam kills one another. Finally as I stepped out of the bus I caught a snippet of the end of the two enemies conversation. “Yeah, you’re gonna pay for it, we’re gonna break you in half out there. And its gonna be all your fault”. Two other boys came up to Liam and one dragged him back towards the group of public high schoolers who gathered around to see the other school who was going to verse theirs. As I didn’t get a chance to actually talk to Liam I stood in the crowd of my teammates listening to what this other guy had to say. “Woah, hey hey hey hey hey! Whats going on prep students, welcome to our little public highschool. How ya doin?“ As he stuck out his hand for a shake. “Stiles” he states, unusual name but he does seem pretty cute. “That’s a firm handshake you got there. Uh we’re very excited for this scrimmage tonight but let’s keep it clean alright no rough stuff okay?” And there goes jerk Brett again, I can’t believe this is the guy I actually like. But I do not want to mess with him, you know him being a werewolf and all. Yes I know about him being supernatural because of his pea sized brain, he ‘accidentally’ flashed his eyes at me when I pissed him off. I saunter over next to Brett as he didn’t reply back, I jab him in his side making him glare down at me. I smile at him and turn my head to the unusual name guy. “No promises, but hey Stiles right? Y/n” I sweetly greeted as I put out my hand just like he did a few minutes ago to Brett. Stiles nods and awkwardly smiles towards me as he shook my hand. “Well nice to meet you, sorry ‘bout Brett, pretty sure he doesn’t have nice in his vocabulary” I say as I innocently look up to Brett beside me, having him roughly nudge my shoulder and sending a hard glare to Stiles who was stifling a laugh. “I do agree with that but I also agree that you are the best looking out of this bunch” Stiles blurts out the flirty sentence, a red blush fading in on his cheeks. “Did I just-, oh my god… I actually s-said that?” He stutters out as the realization washed over him. I smile and giggle at his awkwardness finding it cute how flustered he was, although someone else wasn’t as happy about it. All of a sudden Brett wraps his arm around me pulling my figure a bit closer to his. “As nice as this welcoming was, I think you should go back to your friends. We’ll see you on the field, bye Stiles” I nicely close off the conversation and started walking off towards their highschool, but before going very far Brett yanked my gym bag off of my shoulder and slinging it on his where his very own bag hung. His arm returning around me as he continued walking off, pulling me along with him. Although Brett was a jerk I seem to hate, I can’t seem to shake off the uh- minimal amount of feelings I have for him. As we get on the field, some teammates began stripping off of their casual wear, as others remained in their clothes and had already started practicing. Curiosity got the best of me as I walked towards Brett, who was now shirtless. “Why’d you do that?” I question avoiding looking down his body, my eyes stay on his face. “Do what?” He fired back smirking then retrieving his lacrosse stick. “What you did back there, when we were with Stiles” I wasn’t that annoyed even if it portrayed that in my voice, I was just confused about why he was being weird when Stiles blurted out the cute, flirty sentence. “Ohhh that, he was just annoying to me” he shrugged and ran off practicing with the others. Wow that was the worst answer I hoped for but in reality was I really hoping for anything special? And from Brett? That is literally impossible, but I can wish. I run out into the field, getting warmed up and practicing for this match, even though it was only a scrimmage, Devenford was competitive and I would like to keep my spot on the team. * After scoring goals, passing the ball and not really tackling too much there was a big collision between Brett,Liam, Garret and I. I fall onto the ground, the grass prickled all over my back as I feet excruciating pain spreading through my body. I took off my helmet but didn't have enough strength to pull my self up. After hitting with the three other players I had felt something very sharp pierce my abdomen. I cry out and groaned but the audience and the others who got injured basically drowned my pleas out. In a few seconds people gathered around me standing like giants as I laid there groaning in pain. People were kneeling next to me trying to find the problem but I couldn’t take it anymore as darkness took over my vision. * My eyes fluttered open only to see a dark ceiling, I slowly moved to sit up, my hands press against the metal table beneath me. I look around seeing my surroundings and I guessed it was their animal clinic? But why would I be here, I certainly remember being stabbed with something sharp. Suddenly I lift up the unfamiliar over sized shirt I was wearing to see nothing, no marks, no scratches and definitely no stab wound. My head started to throb and I could hear a slow but steady heartbeat, along with the distant hoots of the owls out at night. Was my heart beat that loud? How was I hearing an owl? Was one in here? That’s when I realized to my left was laying Brett shirtless and then re was some sort of yellow substance around his lips. “Brett?” I whisper just in case anyone else was here, there was no response. In the next half hour it consisted of me asking if Brett was awake or alive, listening to the little noises that I’ve never been able to hear this clearly before and wishing I wasn’t here right now. Now I started to get annoyed I just decided to leave Brett, (which I should've done ages ago) and go back home. So I unlocked the doors of the clinic and started my path to walk to the nearest bus stop,hopefully not waking my parents when I get home. * When I successfully made it up to my room, hearing light snores on the way there. I finally layer on my bed not bothering to change or pull the covers up. i was definitely not ready to sleep, my mind was racing with questions. Why was there no wound? Why was Brett there? Did I actually get hurt? Is this real? Why were all my senses heightened? Was i a werewolf? And What the heck just happened? This was all worrying and panicking me, what the hell is wrong with me. I then start to feel a tingle feeling on both my hands, I was horrified to see two sets of sharp claws slowly growing out of the tips of my fingers. By the time the claws were fully grown out I was freaking out, I stood up and walked over to my desk breathing deep breaths and leaning my weight on the wooden piece of furniture. I couldn’t control what was happening, hair started to grow on my hands and I could feel the sides of my face tingle. The claws on my hands digging into the oak of the desk leaving indentations. From then on the night was a blur of me scratching and ruining random things in my room. * “Her room should be this one” “let’s just hope nothing bad is being this door” “more like, hope its not her dead body laying on the floor” “Stiles! Not necessary” I hear the muffled voices being my door as I slowly woke up, just as the door creaked open memories flushed back into my mind of last night. I looked around my room and basically what was left was the bed that I was surprisingly laying on. “Woah! Looks like an animal rampaged in here… Haha get it?” I think I remember as Stiles joked, he was from the scrimmage. “Now is not the time” a guy replied, he was the one who pulled Liam back into the crowd. Then I spotted Brett behind the two. “Uh… Y/n right? I know this is all confusing but we’re here to help, I’m Scott and this is Stiles” The guy/Scott introduced. And that’s the beginning to my supernatural life in beacon hills. * Over the weeks that passed I learnt a lot about this world and even though I knew about Brett being a werewolf, being one myself was a lot of work. The full moons were a struggle to begin with but as I slowly came to terms of what I am, it got easier and I became my own anchor. A month ago this’ll kill me to say but during this month of controlling the wolf inside I actually bonded with Brett. As I went to Devenford it was easier to communicate with about these types of things instead of calling or taking the bus all the way to BeaconHills to talk to Scott or Stiles. Which leads me to now, I’m currently walking alongside Brett under the night sky after hours of training in the woods. “You know this actually made me not hate you” I said breaking our silence as we were in front of my house, turning to look at him. “You know I never hated you” he replied as we stood looking at each other. I didn’t know why but I started to move closer to him until we were only inches away, surprisingly he didn’t move away and actually did the same. Our foreheads were touching now and my eyes kept on flicking to his lips, both leaning in until our lips were brushing against each other and I could feel his breaths. My front door opened and my mum popped her head out. “Y/n Get in here, its getting late!” She shouted out, making me and Brett jump away from each other. “Uh, well that’s my cue. I’ll see you tomorrow?” I awkwardly asked as a shade of red flushed my cheeks. “Yeah, yeah I’ll see you tomorrow” Brett awkwardly stated. Without thinking I moved toward him again and pecked his lips. as I moved away I sheepishly smiled and walked to my front door and entered closing it and leaning my body onto it smiling and blushing. Little did I know Brett was doing the same as he brought his hand to touch his lips thinking about what just happened and walking away waiting to see you again tomorrow. I hate to admit it but Brett isn’t the jerk I thought he was and he might of stolen my heart.

My first imagine <3

#teen wolf imagine #teen wolf imagines #brett talbot #brett talbot imagine

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amynchan · 7 years ago

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Concerning my post from the other day:

TL;DR: Sorry for pissing you all off and assuming you had no idea what you were getting yourselves into.

That being said, I do have more to say, but if you were just looking for my apology and wanna bow out, I’m putting it under a read more so you can skip it more easily.

I’m not gonna lie, I was really ticked off by a bit of the response to what I had to say. My point of view was that Thomas was attempting to turn a stereotype on its head, a ‘don’t judge a book by it’s cover’ kind of deal and y’all blew it out of the water. Before you call me an idiot for thinking that, here’s what I saw:

me: *opens new ml comic*

me: *immediately closes ml comic*

What went through my head was “...you didn’t even read the comic? You saw this and got pissed off? I mean, I can get it, but sheesh, not even a chance at seeing what he was trying to do or if this was intentional...”

Next reblog was an image that said Fucking Yikes in pretty font

What went through my head was “...aaaand now it’s a bandwagon. Great. Oh well, mob mentality... I don’t think they’ll take it too far.”

Next was a gif of a woman who looked utterly disgusted.

Which, fine. I kind of got the idea that based on these three images, everyone was immediately choosing to boycott the whole comic without seeing where he was going with it. Which, hello, screams kinda dumb to me, but whatever. It’s your cause and you’ll fight for it how you want. Maybe some of you even read the comic, who knows. Best not deal with it since my opinion’s probably gonna get people pissed off at me.

hold up… this is the OFFICIAL comic book?

????????????

what in the actual racist hell?? i saw a thumbnail of this on youtube and just assumed it was some alt-right trolling nonsense, not that it was aN ACTUAL SANCTIONED RELEASE????

who would i go to if i wanted to complain about this?

My thoughts: Hey, look, someone’s questioning this and deciding to take matters into their own hands. Maybe they’ll read the comic and if they find something they still dissent with, they’ll take it up with the right people. If not, then cool. Either way, hope this ends up ok.

Next comes a snapshot of the infamous conversation between fan and Thomas Austruc

My thoughts: ...what the hell did you just do. You just completely messed up any credibility/validity you ever had! Did you go in there for a debate at all? Did you think about his side of events before expressing your own? Did you have a defense, an offense, or even anything to defend against this very obvious question!!?

Simultaneously: Thomas has a point. If they haven’t read it, they don’t know the context, don’t know what he was going for, and they kind of landed themselves flat on their face with their ignorance.

Also: ...*face palms* You guys... just lost.... everything...

“good to know he really cares” I say as I roll my eyes

My thoughts: You guys cannot be freaking serious.

This is the same guy who wanted to include all sorts of diversity in ML, who worked hard for that and you guys were all for that, but after this and his (very freaking PREDICTABLE!!!) question, y’all instantly turn your burners on high and flame the hell outta him. I mean, what the hell?

But it doesn’t end there.

Because I made a stand for what I thought--something I just don’t do because I know people hate my way of thinking because it’s different and I still work through it myself sometimes--I got mixed feedback.

I’ll start with the good stuff. I got a single solitary ask, telling me that I was being unfair to the people who were offended. That they had valid concerns, but I wasn’t told what those were. I thought that those valid concerns were more of the same of what I had been talking about, so that’s what I went with. Spoiler: without clarification, people will just keep going on the same branch.

So that happened, and to the questioner’s credit, she was extremely straightforward and polite. A combo I rarely see, so good on her.

I actually didn’t see her response until my 15 minute break at work (which happened a few hours later), so I didn’t have the chance to respond, and I’m quite frankly glad I was. Because it ticked me off. It ticked me off because there were pieces of information that I didn’t know, and Thomas sure as hell wouldn’t know based on the fact that someone with NO BACKGROUND KNOWLEDGE OF THE COMIC went to argue with him about it.

Instead of “Hey, I haven’t read this comic, but I saw these pictures and am super offended!”, we could have had a discourse like “Hey, I read your comic and while I get your intention, your execution of this idea came off as really offensive.” It’s a night and day difference! We have one who is about to be schooled and we have one who is ready to do schooling! Like.. what the heck, guys!? Debate teams don’t just wake up and debate, debate teams gear up for a fight, anticipate counter arguments, and then employ them! And that’s how they win a freaking debate!

Another thing that ticked me off was the complete disregard of one of my own points (the “wait and see” tactic), because she thought it was kinda stupid, citing an adult literally beating a child as an example. Yeah, that would be instantaneous, but I’ve been in too many situations where I’ve been burned, burned others, or set literally everything on fire because I didn’t ‘wait and see’. I’ve gotten in trouble, accidentally ruined relationships, and burned bridges so fast because of it that now it’s just common sense to wait and see. So that was more of a personal (yet unintentional, I’m sure) insult. That argument just went out the window for me based on recent events and personal experience.

The only objective argument I found was the explanation of “Ghetto Blaster” (which I’d assumed to be another stereotype to be subverted) as well as the addition of the beanie and dollar sign necklace, neither of which I’d placed as out-of-place. I’d figured it was part of a warm welcome, like ‘make her feel like she’s at home’ kinda thing. But the objective points made about those, how they were out of place and too much, were valid points towards their argument. And that is the ONLY reason why I was able to take a breath and try to see it from a perspective I literally knew nothing about.

The slap about Thomas failing the test, though, ticked me off. Because in terms of debate, so did the fans. His question was valid from the point of view I was coming from, as well as his response. Once you arm yourself with more information and context, then argue with him on a level playing field. Doing so before is just an insult. You’re assuming that you hold all the cards and that you know everything when you obviously don’t. You don’t have all the evidence, you don’t have the shots. All you’ve got is three images you saw online that you initially assumed were fake and your righteous anger. Lemme tell you from experience that emotion is a poor ally in a debate. It has more holes than swiss cheese.

Another fan expanded on the points of clothing, which also helped me to see it more from that angle. So thank you to them as well.

But I didn’t get any of this until someone STOPPED TO EXPLAIN! Even if they were taking shots at my belief system and how I view and interact with the world, an explanation is better than just saying ‘you’re wrong hurr durr you stupid white girl’, which does happen sometimes.

Additionally, one of my friends who shall remain unnamed came and talked with me for about fifteen minutes while I was still in my raging zone. She assured me that no one was actually attacking me or how I thought and that they were simply trying to express their point of view. While it still doesn’t feel like it, it is with her help that I have taken this period of time to calm down and attempt to convey my side of the story (which, if you’ve even read to this point, good on you! Have a cookie! *gives cookie*)

Now, if you did click this thing and decided it was waaaaay too long, here’s the gist of it:

Y’all did not make it seem as though you knew what you were talking about at all, faced off with the literal head of ML with zero preparation, and only when I made my stand did you guys actually pull up evidence, explanations (both objective and seriously subjective), and make a solid argument. While I know my ideas were not what ticked you guys off, I’m still seriously disappointed in the whole execution of this. You guys could have made a serious impact and difference if you had argued this out with him rationally like how you’ve been trying to convince me.

Now, make no mistake, I am sorry that I pissed you guys off and I’m sorry that I made the assumption that you guys were flying off the handle on the basis of three images (which I had thought were promotional). But please, for the love of all things holy and divine, think before you talk to someone with power about it. Prepare your offense, your defense, and your points. Make sure they’re valid and as objective as possible so that way you're making a difference and not just making noise that people will ignore all over again.

Also, to the person who told me I was ‘still confused’, that’s actually a really sucky thing to say. More like ‘does this help clear up any questions’ or ‘is there anything else that we can clear up?’ would work, but telling me that I’m still confused is just calling me an idiot and I do take slight offense to that. I am trying, but you don’t get to tell me when I stop being confused. That’s my call since it’s my brain. And these are my opinions, which I have reasons for and have just explained to all of you. Just because they are different to yours does not mean that I’m ‘still confused’.

#long post #under tag #explanation #but feel free to ignore if you wanna ignore drama

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detectivejigsawpines · 5 years ago

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Hideous Creatures-part 8 (Showdown)

Surprisingly, Stan was late in showing up at the glen the next morning. And his cart was missing.

At once Ford was suspicious-he knew his twin far too well to think he was throwing in the towel and surrendering the bet, so he was definitely up to something.

He was about to go looking for his brother, when a new crowd of tourists began filtering through the trees-even bigger than the ones that had come in the last two days.

Maybe this was his plan-to try to overwhelm me by making me deal with all of them at once. Nice try, Stanley.

Ford cleared his throat, and drew himself up to his full height like he had when giving presentations in school.

“Greetings, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the Tours of Mystery! I’ll be your host today-”

Before he could continue, his eardrums were nearly imploded by the blare of a horn.

Ford whirled around in time to see Stan come roaring into place in his cart.

Which was now covered in bright red, glittery paint, and had a sign reading “MYSTERY TOURS (™)” on the roof that was decorated with bright, flashing neon lights until it looked like a traveling carnival wagon.

Stan himself was wearing the same suit and fez as usual, but his tie was the same shade of red as the carts, and it looked like some glitter might have gotten splashed on the suit as well. And as he screeched to a halt and leaped out, grinning widely and lifting his arms (which somehow earned him a chorus of cheers from the crowd), Ford noticed that his eyes, though wide and smiling like normal, were also somewhat bloodshot and manic-looking, like he hadn’t gotten anywhere near enough sleep and was trying to make up for it with an overdose of caffeine.

...Not that Ford knew about that from personal experience or anything.

“Howdy, folks!” Stan boomed. “Sorry I’m late, I was getting a few extra things set up for the tour of your lives! I’m your other host, Mr. Mystery, here ta show you befuddlements and wonders the likes of which your kinds have never seen before!”

Ford saw one of his hands twitch, and a few seconds later actual fireworks came bursting from the back of the cart, exploding in the air above them.

The crowd loved it. Ford didn’t.

In fact, he decided he’d finally had it.

“Really, Stanley?!” he demanded over the cheering. “You’re trying to upstage me?”

“Seems like I’m not just trying,” Stan retorted, folding his arms and grinning. “Face it, Poindexter-I’m better at gaining a crowd’s interest than you are.”

Ford scoffed. “Wow. I’m surprised that you didn’t do something like steal my keys or slash my tires, if you’re sinking low enough to try to sab-”

As soon as the last part left his lips, he realized that that was going too far. His words screeched to a halt.

“No, I-I didn’t mean that-”

****

There was no finesse or grace to this next part. In fact, it mostly consisted of them scuffling and shoving each other in the dirt, similar to when they were little and had gotten into one of their rare arguments that was bad enough to devolve into fighting.

Many of the tourists stared at them in confusion...but several loved it.

“Whoa, humans fighting!” exclaimed a new figure in a black hoodie who also may or may not have been a vampire, pushing through the crowd to watch in delight.

“I gotta preserve this for the kids!” An unusually hairy guy pulled out a video camera and pointed it at the fighting brothers.

“My money’s on the bigger one!”

“Nah, the one with the extra fingers! That probably gives him an advantage!”

Oblivious to all this, the brothers wrestled back and forth, one of them enraged beyond words, the other trying ineffectively to placate him.

“Stanley-stop-I wasn’t-”

“The heck you weren’t!” Stan wrestled Ford to the ground, pinning him by the shoulders. “You think I’d do that ta you again? Just because I’m not gonna let you take this away from me doesn’t mean I’m gonna stoop that low!”

Something about the way he said that made Ford tilt his head and frown at him.

“...Take this away?”

Stanley’s rage dissipated a little bit, and his eyes darted to the side.

“N-Nothin’. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Well, not if you don’t tell me.” Ford managed to extricate himself without any struggle on his brother’s part, and sit up, expression open and inviting.

Stan bit his lip, before finally saying, “...I’m just tryna pull my own weight, okay? I’m tryna make sure I’m not leeching off you, and this job is the first thing I’ve found that I was really good at. Something that made real money, where my skills as a liar and cheater were good for somethin’. These people like what I’m selling, and they keep coming back for more, and it’s not even really illegal stuff for the most part, and it’s-it’s fun. And you just-all you see is a waste of time ta be gotten rid of.” He sat back, hugging himself uncomfortably.

After a second of processing all this, Ford murmured, “I thought you viewed this whole tours thing as just another con. I didn’t know you felt that way about it.”

Stan snorted. “Yeah, obviously.” Then, with less venom, “But it’s not like I told you.”

“That’s not the point; I should have been able to see it from how much you were enjoying it.” Ford scooted around until Stan was more or less looking at him. “And you’re not leeching off me at all, Stanley-how can you say that? You’ve provided me with more samples of unicorn hair and gnome hair and stuff than I know what to do with! I would never have even gotten unicorn hair if you hadn’t set up your business with them-not to mention you’ve been bringing home actual gold! You haven’t been just pulling your weight-you’ve been surpassing me in doing so.”

Stan shrugged a little, but he did look somewhat pacified at the reminder of the gold.

“Sorry about...gettin’ all annoyed when you tried ta correct me about stuff. I know you like it when people have the facts. I just don’t feel like a lot of these jokers are ready for them, ya know?”

“...Yes, you might be right,” Ford admitted.

“Eh, it happens once in a blue moon.”

They smiled a little at each other.

“...So, are we gonna have tours now or what?” yelled a creature that appeared to be a mix between a bear and an owl standing at the edge of the crowd. Several cryptids grumbled in disappointment about the fighting having stopped; another, which looked like a giant bird with the face of an old woman, wiped her eyes on her wing and sniffled, “Reconciliations are so beautiful!”

“Yeah, yeah, keep your fur on!” Stan called back to the owlbear, before getting to his feet and offering Ford a hand up.

Both of them were scraped and bruised, and their clothes and hair were covered in grass and dirt. But Stan went and retrieved his fez, and Ford cleaned off his glasses (thanking heaven that they hadn’t been broken in the fight), and they began organizing who went into which cart.

****

After the tours were done for the day, they brought their profits back home, and found Dan sitting on their front porch.

He looked at their disheveled appearances with a raised eyebrow, before finally asking, “...What happened?”

“Accident,” Ford said, at the same moment that Stan said, “Beavers. Giant meat-eating beavers.”

Dan gave an amused grin as he stood up.

“Knowing what this town’s like, I could almost believe that.” He chuckled as they stalked past him inside. “Told ya to fix your issues the manly way.”

The barrels, when they poured the profits into them, were both overflowing.

“...Does that mean we both win, or we both lose?” Stan asked.

“Yes,” Ford said, catching a few gold coins before they could fall to the floor. “So I guess that means we need to come up with a compromise.”

He went on, “I guess the tours can stay.”

“Yes!” Stan punched the air in delight.

“We may need to work out a few extra details later, but yes. They can stay. In the meantime, I believe there were other aspects to the wager…”

The jubilation faded from his brother at once. “Yeah, about that-”

He rushed for the stairs.

“STANLEY!!”

****

Later

The omelette felt like it was doing weird things to Ford’s tongue; when he finished he’d have to check in the mirror to see if it had been turned to plaid. With a grimace he added more salt and pepper to see if that would make the flavor any better.

Stan came into the kitchen and headed for the fridge, pulling out a can of Pitt.

“How’d it go?” Ford asked after swallowing his mouthful.

Stan shrugged. “Fine.”

“...Just fine? What did he say?”

“Not much.”

“What did you say?”

“...Not much.”

Ford glared at his back. “You hung up after asking to speak to him, didn’t you?”

“Not exactly…” Stan said innocently.

Ford groaned. “What did you say to him?”

Stan popped the tab on the soda. “Pretended to be a telemarketer, and he hung up.”

“Stan-!”

“Hey, you never said anything about me needing ta tell him who I was.” He smirked, and left the kitchen.

Ford rolled his eyes, and finally dumped the rest of the omelette in the trash, figuring if Stan was only going to half keep his side of the deal then he was too.

It wasn’t even that he wanted Stan to try to reconcile with Pa, or be accepted by him again, he mused to himself. Having learned more about what his brother had gone through since being kicked out, he certainly didn’t feel like having a friendly conversation with their father anytime soon; and besides, Pa seemed to have no regrets whatsoever about getting rid of his own son. But…

But it felt like Stan should try to find some kind of closure with him. Even if it was just to tell him to go to hell.

Ford sighed, and washed his dishes in the sink. And then turned his mind to more light-hearted matters, such as figuring out what new attractions to show the supernatural visitors to Gravity Falls.

********

Since Ford needs some days off to do his research, Stan ends up being the one in charge of most of the tours, with Dan sometimes pitching in too. He also sets up a gift shop in the forest that sells things like abandoned car keys, light switches, and other human stuff that in this context is absolutely useless but that the supernatural creatures go ga-ga over.

Ford, when he has time to spare, gives classes to monsters who are interested in learning more about human stuff-and he even has to teach some monsters basic skills such as reading and writing, and how to read human signs, which decreases the amount of supernatural roadkill in the area by 50%. He makes more of the brochures, and Stan starts handing them out during his tours too. They're able to make quite a decent profit off their business, and if people in town ask Stan where he and his brother get their money from (after he takes some of the gold to the city and sells it) he says that they had a rich uncle who left them a large inheritance as long as they continue living in Gravity Falls.

It's funny how effective lies are as long as there's a grain of truth to them. Because after all, they're unlikely to get paid for things in gold and jewels anywhere else.

#gravity falls #stan being mr mystery #ford being dr mystery #dan corduroy #mundane tours #compromise #filbrick pines is a jerk #conflict resolution #boys fighting it out #then actually talking

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thelastspeecher · 8 years ago

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Stan-at-Home - Chapter 1: Welcome to San Diego

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 AO3

So, I wasn’t originally going to post this until after I graduate this Saturday, but it’s my birfday today and I wanted to give myself a bit of a present. So. Here is the first installment of my Stay-at-Home Stan AU multichap. In this AU, Ford calls up Stan in 1982 for his help, only to be told that Stan can’t come to Gravity Falls. Ford goes to meet Stan in San Diego, and finds out that his wild twin has settled down. There’s a lot of fluff, angst, and cute family moments that are gonna be stuffed into these six long chapters, and I am very excited. Anyways, I’ll stop rambling. Enjoy~

Ford checked the address.

Yes, this is Farley Street. He began to walk down the street, squinting at the numbers on the well-kept houses. This doesn’t seem like Stanley’s kind of neighborhood. He thought back to the conversation he’d had with his mother the week before.

“Yes, I have Stanley’s phone number,” his mom said. “I also have his address, if you wanna go talk to him face-to-face.”

“No, the phone number will suffice,” Ford said quickly.

“When you talk to him, tell him I’ve been waiting for that birthday call for months.”

“Your birthday isn’t until March.”

“Like Stan knows that.”

Ford came to a stop outside a tan craftsman-style home. He looked at the address on the mailbox.

435. This is it. He carefully pushed the gate open and stepped onto the small fenced-in lawn. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a toy wagon. What’s that for? This is getting stranger by the second. As he walked up to the door, he mentally replayed the conversation he’d had with his twin a few days ago.

The phone picked up after two rings.

“This is Stan,” a gravelly voice said. Ford’s heart stopped. Even though he had been expecting to hear Stan’s voice, it was still strange.

“Stanley?” There was a rustle over the phone.

“Stanford? Is that you?”

“Yes, it’s- it’s me.”

“What- how did ya get this number?”

“Mom gave it to me.”

“Of course she did,” Stan grumbled. There was some sort of commotion on his end of the line. A muffled voice said something to him. “I’ll take care of it in a bit, I’m on the phone.”

“Is there someone else there?” Ford asked, curious despite himself.

“Yeah, a couple of people. Ford, why’d ya call me?”

“I need your help.”

“With what?”

“I need you to come to Gravity Falls. We can talk then.”

“Gravity Falls? Where’s that?”

“Oregon.”

“Oregon?! Ford, I can’t go to Oregon.”

“Did you lose the Stanleymobile?”

“No, I’ve still got her. I can’t go to see ya for a…different reason.” After Stan didn’t elaborate, Ford prompted him.

“A job of some sort?”

“No. Well, sorta? I dunno, I guess it counts as a job. That’s what Angie’s been sayin’, anyways.” Once again, Stan didn’t expand upon what he had just said.

“Who says that?”

“Seriously, Ford, I can’t come,” Stan said evasively. “You can come see me, if ya want,” he suggested. Ford grimaced. The idea of meeting Stan at some grungy, run-down hotel in a Podunk town wasn’t that appetizing. But it wasn’t like he had a choice.

“…Fine. What’s the address?”

“435 Farley Street, San Diego.”

“San Diego?” Ford asked. He scribbled the address down on a piece of paper. Stan chuckled.

“Yeah. Surprised I’m not in some random nowheresville backwater town in New Mexico or somethin’, huh?”

“Slightly,” Ford confessed. There was more noise on Stan’s end. High-pitched voices and something that sounded like barking.

“Yeah, I’m comin’, I’m comin’,” Stan said to someone else, his voice slightly muffled, as though he had covered the receiver. His voice came back full volume. “Anything else ya need, Ford? I’ve got stuff to do.”

“Uh, no. I suppose I’ll see you in a few days.”

“See ya then.” Stan hung up the phone.

Ford stared at the whitewashed front door, steeling himself. He was still rather perturbed that Stan hadn’t agreed to meet him in Gravity Falls, but the sting over his refusal was slightly taken away by his curiosity. Clearly, Stan had a comfortable living situation. Maybe he even lived with a significant other.

Don’t be ridiculous. Stanley’s not the type to settle down. Ford knocked on the door. There was barking.

“Shh! Quit it, ya dog!” Ford recognized Stanley’s hushed voice. He could make out some sort of commotion. “That’s right, get in there. I’ll get ya in a bit. If the girls ask, ya weren’t in here, capisce?” Ford blinked, bemused. The door opened. “Hey, Ford,” Stan said. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Ford gave his twin a quick once over. Stan was clearly healthy, living well. He was clean, well-kept, and actually wearing his glasses.

“…You have a ponytail?” Ford asked. Stan grinned.

“Started out as a mullet. Ended up tyin’ it back for convenience about two and a half years ago. Kept the habit.” He shrugged. “Angie says it’s pretty fetchin’, so it’s not like I’d wanna change it anyways.”

There’s that “Angie” again.

“Who is Angie?” Ford asked. Stan waved a hand.

“You’ll meet her later. I told her we were gonna have a guest. Didn’t say who. But she wants ya to stay for dinner. And she’ll be pretty pissed if ya leave.” Stan eyed Ford. “Looks like ya could use a good meal or two anyways. And a good night’s sleep. Holy Moses, Sixer, what the heck happened to ya?”

“You just said ‘heck’. Why didn’t you swear?” Ford asked Stan, rather than answering the question.

“You’ll probably find that out later, too. Just, uh, come in, and we can talk about whatever it was ya wanted to talk about.” Stan stood to the side so that Ford could walk in. Ford entered the house and immediately took in his surroundings. He was standing in what seemed to be a living room. It was cozy and warm, with various pictures of wildlife on the walls. He began to feel a bit more at ease.

This is far more welcoming than my own home. Ford saw a spattering of bright colors out of the corner of his eye and turned his head. He frowned at the building blocks and other children’s toys, piled on the off-white carpeting near a dark gray sofa. Maybe Stan has a roommate who has children? This “Angie” he keeps mentioning?

“Ya want coffee or somethin’, Sixer?” Stan asked. Ford turned. Stan was standing in a kitchen adjacent to the living room. “I think we’ve got some. If not, uh, I dunno if you’re an herbal tea guy, but Angie’s got some. She doesn’t drink it often, so I don’t think she’d mind.”

“Coffee sounds excellent,” Ford replied. His hands were still shaking from the quadruple espresso he’d downed earlier, but he’d do whatever he could to stay awake.

“You got it.” Stan waved a hand vaguely. “Sit down wherever. Try not to fall asleep.” Ford didn’t take a seat, instead staring at his twin. When Stan had moved just now, a glint on his hand had caught the light. Ford had a feeling what it might be, but it seemed too odd for that to be correct.

Stanley wouldn’t get married.

“Seriously, Ford, sit down,” Stan said briskly. “Ya might fall over if ya keep standin’ around.”

“Very well,” Ford mumbled. He looked around. There was a table in the kitchen, with four chairs. He walked over and took a seat, noticing that two of the chairs had some sort of colorful block on it.

What in the world is going on?

“Whatchya doing?” Ford was startled from his thoughts by a young, high-pitched voice. He turned around, as did Stan. Stan sighed.

“Why aren’t ya in bed?” Stan asked the child that had just wandered into the kitchen. The child, a girl no more than four years old, rubbed her eyes with her free hand. Her other hand was holding a large stuffed animal frog.

“Woke up,” the child mumbled blearily. She frowned at Ford. “Who’s he?”

“A guest. Your ma mentioned we’d have one, remember?” Stan said. The child cocked her head.

“Looks like you,” she said simply. Stan sighed.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Stan took the coffee out of the cupboard. “Go play with your blocks or somethin’, okay?”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Then what do ya wanna do?”

“Eat. Hungry.”

“All right. We can do that.” Stan walked over to the child and picked her up, then set her down in one of the chairs with the brightly colored blocks. Ford resisted the urge to groan out loud.

Of course, those were booster seats! God, why didn’t I realize that?

“Whattaya want, kid?” Stan asked. The child scrunched up her face.

“My name’s not kid! ‘s Daisy!” she said petulantly. Stan chuckled.

“I know that. So? Whattaya orderin’?” he asked.

“Corn stuff.” Stan nodded.

“You’re in luck. Your ma made some last night after bedtime. Can ya wait until I get the coffee started?”

“No!” Daisy said promptly. Stan sighed. He looked at Ford.

“Mind waitin’ while I get Miss Daisy her snack?”

“No, that’s fine. Go ahead,” Ford replied, slightly blindsided by the interactions between Stan and Daisy. He looked at Daisy curiously. She tilted her head, looking at him with an interested expression likely similar to his. Her big blue eyes sparkled with intelligence and curiosity. Daisy grinned at him as her gaze fell on Ford’s six-fingered hands.

“Twelve!” she said cheerfully.

She can count? I wasn’t expecting her to be able to. But granted, I don’t know her age. Or much about child development. Ford resisted the urge to hide his hands under the table. Daisy held up her own hands proudly.

“Eleven!” she chirped. Ford’s eyes widened. Daisy did in fact have eleven fingers; one hand had six while the other had five. Stan nodded as he set down a plate in front of her.

“That’s right, you’ve got eleven fingers. How much older is your sister?”

“Eleven.”

“Eleven what?”

“Minutes!”

“And how old are you?”

“Three!” Daisy cheered. The whole exchange felt like a ritual, something they regularly did. Stan chuckled and ruffled her wild brown curls.

“Yup. You betcha, junebug. I’ll get the coffee started now, Ford.” At the sound of footsteps, Stan and Ford looked at the kitchen entrance. Stan groaned. “You’re up, too?”

“Hungry,” the second toddler said, tucking a strand of caramel-colored hair behind her ear.

I take it this is Daisy’s twin sister. Daisy did say her sister was a mere eleven minutes older than her, correct? The toddler cocked her head at him in the same way Daisy had.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Uh…” Ford looked over at Stan, unsure of how to introduce himself.

“A guest,” Stan interjected. “Do ya want some of that corn casserole or whatever it’s called?”

“Corn stuff?” the toddler asked.

“Yeah, that.” The toddler nodded. “All right then, Princess Danny, let’s get ya some food.” Ford leaned against the table, amused despite the exhaustion making his eyes heavy.

“Princess Danny and Miss Daisy?”

“They can’t both be princesses,” Stan said, picking Danny up and setting her in the other chair with a booster seat. “There’d be fightin’ over who gets to rule the kingdom.”

“I’d win,” Daisy said confidently. Ford quirked a half-smile. “But I don’t wanna be princess. Don’t like dresses.”

“Ya don’t like any clothes, ya gremlin,” Stan said. He opened the fridge and began to rummage around in it.

“Not a gremlin!” Daisy protested.

“Then what are you?” Ford asked her. He was beginning to enjoy the bluntness of this child. It reminded him of Stan when he was that age. Daisy frowned thoughtfully.

“Dunno. Not princess, though.”

“I’m princess,” Danny said softly. Ford turned his attention to the second girl. Danny looked back at him with familiar deep brown eyes. But it wasn’t the eyes, or the children’s rosy, chubby cheeks, or even Daisy’s polydactyly that confirmed his suspicions. Danny had a large, ruddy nose that he’d never seen in anyone outside his family.

Holy Moses. Stan is a…?

“There ya go, princess,” Stan said, placing a plate of some sort of yellow squishy thing in front of Danny.

“Thank you,” Danny said politely.

“Now I’ll get the coffee started,” Stan said. “Sorry ya had to wait, Ford.”

Is Stan…apologizing?

“It’s no problem,” Ford said. “Getting food for your daughters is high priority.” Stan froze, the blood draining from his face.

“Ya figured it out,” Stan whispered. Ford sighed.

“Stanley, I have multiple doctorates,” he said. “I’d think I could recognize my own nieces. By the way, does Mom know? I feel like if she knew you were a father, she’d have told me.” Stan moved things noisily in cupboards.

“No. She doesn’t know.”

“Doesn’t Ma have a doctor?” Danny asked Stan.

“Yeah, she does,” Stan said. “Your ma’s got a doctorate.” Ford frowned.

“You settled down with an intellectual?”

“Gee, thanks, Ford,” Stan muttered. “And it’s not like Angie’s a nerd or somethin’. She’s got some weird older brothers, but she’s actually cool.”

“Who are you?” Danny asked Ford suddenly. “Daddy knows you?” Ford blinked, slightly startled by her abruptness.

“Uh, yes, actually. Your father knows me. I’m his twin brother.” Danny and Daisy looked at him with identical bemused expressions. “I’m your Uncle Ford,” he added. Danny shook her head.

“Not a uncle. Don’t look like one. Or talk like one.”

“Just ‘cause you’ve only met your ma’s brothers doesn’t mean all uncles are the same,” Stan said. “He is your Uncle Ford.”

“Does Ma know ‘bout Uncle Ford?” Danny asked.

“No. She doesn’t,” Stan said, starting up the coffeemaker.

“Why not?” Daisy asked.

“All right, Twenty Questions is over.” Stan walked over to his daughters and took them out of their chairs. “Go eat your snack somewhere else,” he said, handing them their plates. “But don’t leave crumbs. Your ma blows a gasket.”

“Apple likes crumbs,” Danny said. Stan pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Fine, fine. We’ll send in Apple later then. Now go on, scat!” He gently nudged them out of the kitchen. The girls wandered off. Stan took a seat at the table. The scent of brewing coffee slowly filled the room.

“I assume you weren’t referring to the fruit?” Ford asked Stan. Stan frowned. “This ‘Apple’,” Ford clarified. Stan shook his head.

“Nah, that’s the dog’s name.” He shrugged. “I voted for Cujo, but the girls had the final say. Of course they chose the name they came up with. Don’t let toddlers name dogs.”

“You’ve really settled down, haven’t you?” Ford said softly. Stan looked away. “A dog, two kids, and, judging by the ring on your finger, a wife? I am honestly completely surprised, Stanley.”

“Yeah, well,” Stan mumbled, playing with his wedding ring; a simple gold band. “It’s a bit more…I dunno, domestic than I thought I’d end up with. But it’s good. Just ‘cause I didn’t plan it, don’t mean I don’t like it.” He smiled fondly. “Don’t think I’d trade spendin’ time with my wife and daughters for anything at this point.”

“Your daughters. Their names are Danielle and Daisy Pines, I take it?”

“Nah. Danny is short for Danica. People call her Danielle all the time. That’s a pretty good way to get her pissed off.” Stan grinned proudly. “She’s a firecracker, that kid. Like her ma.” He looked at Ford. “And actually, speakin’ of their ma, they’ve got her last name.”

“Why?” Ford asked. Stan rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“When I met her, I was usin’ a fake last name. Never got around to tellin’ her my real one. Didn’t feel that much of a connection to Pines anymore anyways. So when we got married, I just sorta…took hers. Her family got a real kick outta that lemme tell ya.” He rolled his eyes. “At the reception, I heard ‘Yer finally a McGucket’ about a million times.” Stan stood up and walked over to the counter to check on the coffee. He poured two mugs and took them back to the table. “Here,” he said, handing one to Ford. Ford took the offered mug. “Maybe I shouldn’t give ya caffeine. You’re shakin’ pretty bad.” But Ford’s tremors weren’t due to caffeine withdrawal.

McGucket. No, I had to have misheard.

“Did you say your wife’s last name was McGucket?” Ford asked. Stan nodded and sat down again.

“Yeah. And it’s my last name now, too, so I’m Stan McGucket. The girls are Danica and Daisy McGucket.”

Shit! I thought Daisy’s nose looked familiar! That’s a nose I’ve only over seen in Fiddleford’s family.

“I have to leave,” Ford said abruptly. He stood up, nearly knocking the mug of coffee off the table.

“Whoa, whoa, hey,” Stan said. “Ford, ya still haven’t told me why ya came here! I know McGucket’s a goofy last name, but-”

“I can’t face a McGucket,” Ford whispered. “Not after what I did to Fiddleford.” Stan’s eyes narrowed.

“Fiddleford? How do ya know my wife’s older brother?”

“She’s his younger sister? Shit! If it had been his cousin, or niece or something, maybe, but-” Ford ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t stay, I can’t face his family, I can’t-”

“Ford,” Stan said flatly, cutting off his twin’s panicked speech. “She won’t be back until 6. The zoo doesn’t close until 5:30, and she’s gotta do maintenance before she can leave. Ya don’t need to ‘face her’ or whatever. But ya are gonna tell me what the hell ya did to my brother-in-law.”

“No. I refuse.”

“Sit your ass back down,” Stan growled. Ford swallowed at the stony expression on Stan’s face. “Now.” Ford took a seat again. Stan nudged Ford’s abandoned coffee mug toward him. “Talk.”

“I- Fiddleford was my research assistant,” Ford said. Stan nodded. “We were researching the anomalies of Gravity Falls and I- I made a mistake.”

“Ya didn’t push him over a cliff or somethin’, did ya?” Stan asked. “Angie and her folks have been pretty worried. Nobody’s heard from him in weeks. Not his wife, not his son, not anyone.” Ford put his head in his hands, the guilt overwhelming him.

“No. He- he saw something he shouldn’t have. We were testing our project, an interdimensional portal. And Fiddleford- Fiddleford fell in.”

“Fuckin’ shit,” Stan swore softly.

“He saw the domain of an old benefactor of mine. It drove him mad. The last time I saw him, he- he couldn’t remember his own name.”

“Goddammit,” Stan whispered. Ford looked up at his twin. To his surprise, Stan seemed genuinely upset. Stan pushed his glasses up to rub at his eyes. “The McGuckets don’t deserve that. Fidds definitely doesn’t.” Ford blinked.

“You- you know his nickname?”

“I got to know my wife’s family a bit, yeah,” Stan snapped. He sighed. “Okay. You’re clearly not here to tell me about what happened to Fidds. Why are ya here?”

“It’s a bit complicated, and I’m not sure if I should talk about it right now. My thoughts aren’t the most…firm.”

“Can’t think straight, huh?” Stan asked. Ford shook his head. “When was the last time ya slept?”

“I’m not sure.”

“All right, no joe for you, then,” Stan said, taking the mug of coffee from Ford. “But before I send ya to go get some damn rest, give me the basic info. Tell me who you’re runnin’ from.” At Ford’s startled expression, Stan grinned crookedly. “I’ve run from plenty of…unsavory folk, to put it the ‘McGucket’ way. I know what it looks like when you’re runnin’ from someone bad.”

“His name is Bill. He’s- he’s the one whose domain Fiddleford saw.”

“And when ya say domain, ya mean…”

“His place of residence,” Ford said. He rubbed his forehead. A throbbing headache was forming, and his eyelids felt like they were made of sandpaper. “I-”

“That’s enough for now, I guess,” Stan said. “Ya look like you’re about to keel over. Guest room is down the hall, second door on the left. Take a nap. We’ll talk more after Angie gets home.” Ford nodded silently and stood up. Before he exited the kitchen, Stan called him. “Ford?” Ford turned. Stan walked over to him and put his hands on Ford’s shoulders. “We’re gonna help ya out.” Ford nodded again. “Seriously. Nobody messes with my family.” Although Stan’s hands were heavy, it felt as though a weight had been lifted.

“Thank you, Stanley.”

#stay at home stan au #stanley pines #stanford pines #gravity falls oc #Danica Pines #Daisy McGucket #gravity falls au #gravity falls #stan at home #fanfiction #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks #Stangie Family

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