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helliontherapscallion · 4 years

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Scientia Potentia Est (Adrenaline Junkie Part 10)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: slight PTSD, mentions of death/dying, some description of injury/scars, slight panic attack

Word count: 2,734

(A/N): how are yall liking the story so far?

You were woken up by the obnoxious chirping of various songbirds right outside your window. Cracking open your heavy eyes, you glanced at the clock on your wall. 7 AM. You only got about an hour of sleep. Great.

Groaning, you reluctantly left the beckoning warmth of your comfortable blanket cocoon and stretched out your limbs. You stood up and trudged towards your luggage that laid haphazardly in the corner of your childhood room. Awkwardly twisting your body around to take off the sensors attached to your back and sliding off the prosthetic, you put it on your bed. Pulling out a random shirt and pants without giving them any real thought, you shambled off to the bathroom to shower and preen your wing.

You stood under the warm running water for a while just doing nothing but trying to wake yourself up. The steam drifted idly throughout the room as you stepped out of the shower and finished your morning routine. You still felt dead inside even after your refreshing shower. Is this what Philza felt like in the mornings? Is this what death feels like? Oh wait. You already knew what dying felt like, you’ve died twice already and you had the scars to prove it.

The scar on the right side of your back remained prominent and very noticable, but it faded slightly around the edges. The other scar that stretched across your cheek and stretched down to your stomach was new. They were red and raised. You remembered how you got them like it was yesterday. You, your brothers, your nephew, and Tubbo were following Eret still celebrating your win. You all completely trusted him, he was your teammate after all. Trusting him was a mistake. It was foolish. That power hungry bastard blew up everything you and your brothers built and worked for. He was a traitor to L’manberg. Everyone present lost a life in the explosion.

You shuddered, remembering the explosion. You remembered the feeling of extreme heat on your skin and the deafening boom that left a ringing in your ears. You remembered laying on the ground several feet away from your brothers’ corpses. You were the last to die that day. Everything hurt as you laid there slowly bleeding out from the deep gash running from under your eye to your midsection. The plumes of smoke floated up towards the sunny sky as everything burned around you. You hoped you would suffocate from smoke inhalation before you would bleed out again. The flames licked at your skin, almost taunting you with your oncoming death. Why couldn’t you have died instantly like everyone else? Why did you always have to die painfully?

A soft knock snapped you out of your thoughts. Looking down, you realized that you were clutching the side of the sink so hard that your knuckles were turning white.

“(Y/n), are you in there?” It was Arthur. What was he doing up so early?

You wiped at the tears that had gathered in your eyes and cleared your throat. “Y-yeah buddy. I’ll be out in a second.”

You turned on the water faucet and splashed some cold water in your face. It somewhat worked for the blotchiness and redness, but your eyes were still puffy. You were just going to have to get out of the bathroom and pray that Arthur and Philza won’t notice. You took a deep breath and opened the door. There Arthur stood looking at you happily.

“What’re ya doing up so early bud?”

“My brother said that I’m a morning person.”

Brother?

Despite your confusion, you did your best to grin at him. “Well, early bird, do you wanna help me make breakfast?”

His eyes lit up with excitement and he jumped up and down slightly. “Yes please! I love cooking, Mama and Papa would always let me help!”

Oh, you absolutely hated not knowing something. You needed to have that chat with him as soon as you could.

You smirked. “C’mon then, lets go get started!”

He sprinted down the hallway and towards the stairs. You felt a slight panic flare up inside of you. “Arthur, please don’t run down the stairs!”

To your great relief, he listened and slowed down to a brisk walking speed. You speedwalked over to him. For someone so little, he was surprisingly fast. By the time you reached the bottom of the stairs, he was already in the kitchen.

In the kitchen, Philza was sitting at the table with a steaming cup of coffee in his hands. As per usual, he looked like he’d rather go back to sleep. You walked over to the coffee maker and poured yourself a cup, you were going to need it. Philza’s tired eyes followed you as you poured the steaming liquid into your mug.

“Tired?” His voice was raspier and deeper than usual.

“Yeah, didn’t get much sleep last night.” You sipped at the bitter drink before wrinkling your nose and stirring in an ungodly amount of sugar. Sipping it again, you sighed in content. That was much better.

You walked to the chest and pulled out some bacon strips, eggs, and bread. Setting them on the counter, you turned to Arthur. He was standing on his tiptoes trying to clearly see over the counter. You chuckled, pulling a chair out from the table and dragging it over to him so he could stand on it.

“Don’t get too excited kid, we have to wash our hands first. Then we can get to the fun part.”

Arthur scrambled over to the sink, pulling his chair along with him. Though he was extremely excited, he actually took the time to properly wash his hands. Once you both were clean, you both got to cooking. You let him scramble the eggs and butter the toast while you did the rest of the work. You didn’t want him to get burned, especially by the bacon grease.

Cooking was quickly done with Arthur’s help and before you knew it, breakfast was already halfway done. Over the course of eating, Philza was slowly waking up and adding his own input into the conversation. You were hardly paying attention when Arthur asked you a question.

“Hey, (y/n), where’s your wing?”

“Hm?”

“The fake one.”

Your eyes widened. Shit, you forgot to put it back on after your shower. You suddenly felt every single little touch on your amputated wing. The chair, a light breeze from the open window, the brush of feathers from your complete wing, everything. You felt vulnerable and naked without it on. You felt powerless.

“Oh, I- must’ve forgot to put it back on again. Excuse me.”

You stood up from your chair, a screech resounding from the legs scratching against the floor. Taking care of your half-eaten breakfast, you tried to hurry up to your room as fast as you could scolding yourself the entire way for being so forgetful. So stupid.

You locked the door behind you and saw your silver wing laying on your bed staring at you, as if taunting you for leaving it behind. You rushed to put it back on. Though you felt your muscles tense up because of the sudden cool, it felt incredibly relieving to have your wing back on. You felt whole.

You awkwardly twisted around to fasten the leather belts around the base of your amputated wing and attach the sensors back onto specific spots on your back where your flight muscles were. You put one on your deltoid, one on your trapezius, one on both teres muscles, one on your infraspinatus, and lastly two on your latissimus dorsi muscle. It usually took you at least thirty minutes of testing the prosthetic’s movements and moving the sensors around slightly to get the placement of the sensors exactly correct, so you assumed that breakfast was over and done with ten minutes ago.

Your wing was finally connected and fully functional, so you left your room in search for Arthur. You eventually found him in the basement in your old workshop looking through your filing cabinet of blueprints. He mustn't have heard you come down the stairs because he didn’t react. He just kept looking through your old papers, pulling a few out and putting them on a nearby crafting table.

“Arthur?”

He jumped, the paper he was in the middle of pulling out slipped back into its place inside the filing cabinet. He didn’t turn around to face you at first, so you thought that he was just trying to catch his breath from your little scare. Feeling bad, you walked closer and put a tentative hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry for scaring you. What’re ya doin?”

“I-I’m looking at your old inventions, Philza let me come down here to look at them while he tried to find me more clothes I could wear that fit.”

“Buddy, you should’ve waited until I put my wing back on, I could’ve shown you my prized inventions.”

He looked down to his feet. “I’m sorry (y/n), I just really wanted to see them and you were taking so long. I couldn’t wait.”

You frowned, putting a finger under his chin and making him look at you. You saw guilt darkening his eyes. “Arthur, never say sorry for wanting knowledge. Knowledge is perhaps our greatest weapon against the unknown in the universe. I want you to remember the phrase ‘scientia potentia est’.”

He sniffled. “Scientia… potentia est?”

“Yes, it means ‘knowledge is power’. Knowledge and power are two very… wide subjects, which is why I like the phrase. In a way, it means that you could pull off anything with knowledge. A lot of inventors live by that motto. Personally, it’s a motto that I swear by. Having knowledge gets me out of a lot of sticky situations,” you kindly smiled at him. “Now, do you want me to show you how my prosthetic works? I could even show you the first prototype if you’d like.”

To your delight, the smile that you often saw him wearing quickly returned and he nodded vigorously. You could get used to people wanting to know how your inventions work and why they worked the way that they did. You spent the next two hours explaining and answering questions about your prosthetic. You let him hold and examine your old leather wing. You showed him how the sensors were placed and warned him that if they were even very very slightly off, the wing wouldn’t work right. You even let him craft a sensor with you.

“So, do you have any interest in being an inventor when you grow up?”

“Yes, I wanna be just like you! You’re like, the bestest inventor ever!”

You took a deep breath, kneeling in front of him and placing your hands on his shoulders. “Arthur, would you like to become my protégé?”

He scrunched up his face and squinted his eyes in confusion. “Your what?”

You lightly laughed. “Do you know what an apprentice is?” He shook his head. “Well, I want to take you under my wing. Teach you everything I know.”

His eyes comically stretched and his mouth gaped open and closed like a fish out of water. If it were possible, you’d imagine stars shining in his eyes. “You’d do that?”

“Naturally. You’re perhaps the most ambitious person I’ve ever met in terms of your goals, and at such a young age too. I’ve never met anybody besides fellow innovators that actually wants to know how my inventions are made. It’s refreshing in a sense. Would you accept me being your mentor?”

“I- yes! Yes, yes! A million, no, a billion times yes! Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” He cheered, squealing with delight and jumping up and down.

You laughed. “Woah there bud, cool your jets. We have work to do, but first…” you sighed. You really didn’t want to ruin his moment, but you needed to talk to him about this if he were to become your apprentice.

He cocked his head to the side, eyes still wide with excitement. “First what?” “First… we need to talk. About your story, I mean.”

“What do you mean? We are talking.”

“No, not like that. We need to talk about your family. And how you want me to help you with The Warden.”

He visibly deflated, you didn’t think it was possible for someone to change moods so quickly. It was almost unnatural how fast he switched emotions. “Oh… Do we have to?”

“Yes, Arthur. We have to trust each other if we’re gonna work together.”

He shifted on the balls of his feet and fiddled with his thumbs. He looked very anxious to talk about his family.

“If you want, I can show you where I go to relax and think. Would you like that?”

He nodded and wiped at his eyes. You grabbed his hand and led him up the stairs. Since Philza was out, you wrote him a little note and put it on the table where he should see it right away if he came back before you two. You grabbed your satchel and filled it with two glass vials of water, a few snacks, and a blanket. Arthur just stared at you confusedly.

You led him outside and hesitated. Should you ask him if he wanted to fly? It would be a lot faster to get there. “Arthur, would you like to fly there? I know it’s scary, but once you get used to it it’s so much fun!”

He reluctantly nodded, so you bent over and wrapped your arms around him to pick him up. You felt him tense up as you prepped for take off. “Hold on tight, I promise I won’t drop you.”

You pushed yourself off from the ground with a powerful flap of your wings causing Arthur to shriek in surprise. You and Arthur shot into the sky at a moderate speed. When you steadied yourself high above the treeline, you looked down at the boy in your arms. He had his eyes tightly closed and he was shaking slightly. “Arthur, you can open your eyes now.”

You watched as he peeked one of his eyes open and looked at you, you smiled encouragingly at him. “Go ahead, look around.” He observed his surroundings with caution before he opened his other eye. He was looking around in amazement, taking in every single detail from a bird’s eye view. You snorted before redirecting your attention back to flying. You needed to pay attention, especially when you had a passenger that would carry on your legacy after you die.

The flight went by with Arthur giggling at various mobs below and sometimes pointing out something he thought was interesting to you. Your destination was now several meters ahead of you. Landing, you set Arthur down steadying him when he stumbled a little.

You took out the blanket and spread it across the grassy ground, smoothing it out. You beckoned Arthur to sit down next to you on it and you two overlooked the boundless expanse of the grassy plains.

“This is where I came up with most of my inventions. It’s where I first tested my prosthetic. There’s where I jumped off.”

“How’d you know it worked?”

“I didn’t before I tested it. Looking back, it was stupid of me to do. Never, ever, do what I did.”

“What if-”

“No what if’s. Consult me before you test out anything dangerous in the future. I mean it, Arthur.”

“But I want to be like you.”

“Trust me kid, you don’t wanna be exactly like me. Besides, you’re you. You’re not (y/n) Minecraft. You’re Arthur Fox. You’re your own person and it’s important for you to understand that. Never let anyone take that away from you.”

He fell silent as he contemplated your words. You assumed that nobody’s ever told him that before, both due to his young age and potential lack of adult figures in his life.

“Artie, you can tell me about your life when you’re ready. Take as much time as you need, we still have half the day left before we have to start heading back.”

He wordlessly nodded, turning his gaze to stare blankly past the cliff. In the meantime, you would wait patiently until he felt comfortable telling you.

Taglist (comment if you want to be added):

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missymurphy1985 · 3 years

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The Groupie (part three)

Cillian has just turned 30, and has no children. Reader is a fan, has been since day one and is a plus size girl. I myself am a UK size 16, so I hope I don't offend anyone with my story (I'm writing about my own insecurities a little here so be kind please).

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06

A year had passed since that night. A year of you going through some serious soul searching. You'd become comfortable with yourself - to the point you were genuinely happy with your mind and your body, curves and all. You'd even been on dates - it surprised you when the men you'd been out with confessed they actually preferred a girl with a figure like yours.

You'd even began a university course in London, studying for a PhD in Psychology and Mental Health. You'd been to hell and back in your own kind, and made it through the other side. Now you wanted to help others achieve the same.

To help fun your course, you'd taken on work at a live jazz bar in Camden Town in the evenings and weekends. The music was always incredible, and you were allowed to wear 50s style dresses that accentuated your curves perfectly. Along with a slick new bobbed haircut and your favourite red lipstick, you relished in your new found life and emotional freedom. You had a new group of friends that you shared a flat with in Kilburn, and the regulars in the bar treated you like family. Life was perfect, a far cry from where you were just 12 months earlier. You'd also stayed off social media - and stopped following the career of the man that broke your heart.

It was one Saturday night, when your shift had not long started, when you were suddenly catapulted straight back to that morning.

"What can I get you?" You asked over the dimly lit bar. The man turned quickly without looking at you and ordered a Guinness. You froze. That voice... You'd know it anywhere... You swallowed the lump in your throat and poured his drink, carefully so as not to spill any. Praying to all that was holy that he wouldn't recognise you..

You placed it on the bar, holding a hand out as he placed a crisp £5 note in your hand, still not turning round. You handed him his change, which is when his eyes finally met yours. He did a quick double take, and you were just as quick to move onto the next customer.

You felt his eyes on you all evening and couldn't help but smile to yourself. Not that you'd ever show him that. You'd served him a couple of times through the course of the evening and was proud of yourself for not acknowledging him once.

Your shift came to an end around 10pm, and your flatmates soon joined you at the bar for a few drinks. Your best friend and flatmate Ella was due onstage any second, and as much as part of you wanted to crawl under the crowd and hide at home you couldn't miss her debut performance.

She came onstage a few minutes after you left your post behind the bar and sank into your seat in a booth with the rest of the Flat 76 crew. Your mojito in hand, you cheered with the rest of them as hour friend took to the mic and started to sing an Amy Winehouse classic.

"Y/n?" You turned at the sound of your name, and froze when those ice blue eyes made contact with yours. You ignored him, and turned your attention back to the stage. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you continued to ignore him.

"Y/n... I think Cillian Murphy is talking to you...." Your friend Stacey nudged you.

"Don't be ridiculous, Stace, he's clearly mixed me up with someone else."

"Y/n, for the love of God will you talk to me?!" His voice was louder now as he shouted across the table. Your friends looked between the two of you, stunned. You turned to face him and fought against your heart to stop yourself from bursting into tears. You stood up and walked over to him.

"I have absolutely nothing to say to you. Now leave me alone." You turned to walk away but he grabbed your wrist. Wrenching your hand back, your other hand quickly moved, slapping his cheek. A years worth of pent up anger and frustration buried deep in your damp eyes as he staggered backwards into a tall table, fortunately no one was sat on it and after a quick glance around it appeared no one had noticed either. Your friends on the other hand, saw everything and their faces wore matching open-mouthed expressions.

"What the fuck?!" He yelled, rubbing his cheek and grabbing your elbow, dragging you over to the restroom hallway. Once you were alone your emotions got the better of you.

"What's the matter? A hundred Euro not enough? Come back to see if you can double your money huh?!" You yelled at him, his face a picture of both anger and confusion.

"The fuck are you talking about? A hundred what?"

"Neve told me about your little wager Cillian - I hope you spent the money well! Tell me, what did you buy with it? New shoes? Fancy new shirt?"

"Wager? Neve? The fuck?"

"I'm not stupid Cillian - there's no way you'd be seen out in public with someone like me and that's okay!! I've come to terms with it, and I'm fine! I'm happier now than I've ever fucking been and NONE of it is down to you!!!"

"Will you stop fucking talking, and listen to me!!!" His voice loud, the Cork accent breaking through and stopping you in your tracks.

"Neve was trying to get with me from the first day of that production. Flirty comments, making excuses to be near me, it was fucking horrendous! I knew she wasn't interested in me, just wanted to boost her fucking career. I made it clear I wasn't interested immediately but she wasn't getting the message. Seeing me with you sent her fucking crazy! I never ONCE made any kind of wager about you or anyone else! I barely spoke to her by the end of the show run unless I absolutely had to!"

"You would say that wouldn't you? Irresistible Cillian Murphy, woman falling at your feet!"

"For fucks sake... You followed me for ten years. Ten years! Ever known me fuck around?"

"No..."

"One night stands?"

You shook your head.

"Scandals?"

"Well no... But..."

"But nothing!!! I'm not, nor have I ever been, THAT guy!"

You looked into his eyes.. he looked genuine. But you couldn't let yourself go back to that person you were before. That girl was weak. That girl was naive and stupid. You straightened your back and mentally reminded yourself of how far you'd come.

"What do you want from me Cillian?"

"Just you. It's always been you, y/n."

"Bullshit..." You scoffed, shaking your head.

"What do I need to do to prove it to you?"

"I can't answer that Cillian. I don't know."

"Come back to mine? We can talk properly?" You pulled back, almost laughing and shaking your head, immediately questioning his intentions.

"I'm not going anywhere with you. I'm going back to my friends and watching the rest of the show. I never want to see you again." You turned on your heels and walked back into the bar area, rejoining your friends at the table who were all staring at you. Full of questions that you'd never give the answers to. You didn't look back at him once.

All that talk, and all he was interested in was getting you back to his to use you all over again?

Not this time Cillian, not this time.

#cillian murphy #cillian smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian fanfic #cillian x smut #cillian murphy x smut

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caranfindel · 4 years

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Take these broken wings and learn to fly (15.20 coda)

het, but Wincest-compatible | about 2300 words | PG-13 for language | characters: sam winchester, sam’s blurry wife |

Julia has been widowed (God, what an awful word, widowed) for three years when she meets Sam. It’s a work-based friendship at first. She’s kind of lonely and sad, he’s kind of lonely and sad, and they gravitate toward each other. And then one evening they’re at a bar, the last ones left from an after-work happy hour, both of them drinking more than they should, and she thinks he’s kind and thoughtful and smart and he may be 10 years older than me but he’s still hot as hell and I enjoy being with him and I look forward to seeing him and maybe I should just… and she kisses him. He’s shocked; shocked enough to confirm that he wasn’t just hanging around hoping to make it out of the friendzone. And then he’s holding her face in his hands and he’s kissing her too.

It’s good. They’re good together. It’s not the earth-shattering, all-encompassing romance she had with Shaun. Julia knows she’ll never have anything like that again. Most people don’t even get one soulmate in their lives; no one gets two. And she knows Sam doesn’t have that same desperate love that Shaun had for her; she knows she’ll never have his whole heart. (She knows the woman he intended to marry was killed in a fire, she knows another woman he loved went back to her ex. She doesn’t know which of these women still owns that last piece of Sam’s heart.) But she loves Sam, and he loves her, and they get married.

(The sex is amazing. Sometimes he’s gentle, almost reverent, as if he’s afraid he’ll break her, and other times he’s fierce and passionate and almost tries to break her, and she loves both ends of the spectrum.)

She suggests they melt down her old wedding band to make a new one. It was an heirloom from her grandmother, a plain wide band of yellow gold that she loves, that she thought she’d wear for the rest of her life. But Shaun is the one who put it on her finger the first time. It doesn’t seem right to ask Sam to accept it now. A new band from the old gold seems like a good compromise. No, Sam says, I couldn’t ask you to do that. I know a way we can make it ours. He has the inside of the band engraved with the same symbol he wears tattooed over his heart, and makes her promise to never take it off. Bad luck, he says.

He’s such a contradiction. Scary smart, but as superstitious as an Appalachian grandmother. Calm and unflappable, but with a weirdly hyperactive startle reflex. Kind and empathetic, but capable of extreme violence when pushed to his limits (seriously, don’t walk your drunk ass up to Sam Winchester’s wife and lay hands on her, and don’t get mouthy when she tells you to back off) and just really, frighteningly skilled at that violence.

(A little frightening and also very sexy. Julia’s always had a thing for the hero type.)

They both have nightmares. One night Julia watches Shaun’s face melting under his gear and wakes with a cry of horror. Sam holds her as she tearfully describes living on the knife edge of constant fear that comes with loving someone whose job is literally running into burning buildings. I know, he says, over and over, even though he can’t possibly know. The irony of their first loves both dying in flames is not lost on her, but it’s not like his college girlfriend was a firefighter. It’s not like he watched her go to work every day and prayed she’d make it home alive.

Julia’s pregnancy is a wonderful surprise. She and Shaun had tried for over a year before she was widowed, and she just didn’t count on it happening with Sam. They agree not to name the baby after anyone they’ve lost. Let’s not name him after our pain, she says, and Sam is okay with that. (Or he isn’t. But ever since she showed him the positive pregnancy test, she’s known she could ask him for anything. She’s known he would rip out his heart and serve it on a platter if she asked for it.)

But they haven’t decided on a name yet when her water breaks four weeks early. When their perfect baby boy is born at 12:10 a.m., the nurse announces the date and time and Sam looks up at her in shock and blinks away happy tears and says it’s the 24th. It’s my brother’s birthday. Julia is flying high on endorphins; she loves this baby and she loves this man and she even loves his dead brother she never got to meet, and she says it’s got to be a sign; let’s name him Dean.

She takes off her wedding ring, just this once, to have Dean’s birthdate engraved on the inside. Sam does the same with his own ring. He insists they go to a jeweler who will engrave while they wait, rather than leaving the rings there. She waves a hand at her lumpy postpartum body. You afraid someone’s gonna make a move on all this if you don’t keep a ring on it?

He laughs at her and says you’re onto me, even though he’s the one who needs to be locked away, still with that long lean runner’s body and the amazing shoulders and the goddamn dimples. I just don’t like us being without them, he says. He is a sweet, sentimental fool and she adores him. He bends down to kiss her, carefully maneuvering the baby he’s wearing in a sling, and Julia looks at this man and this baby and this life she didn’t think she was get to have and knows she’s happier than she has any right to be. And she’s relieved when Sam slips the ring back onto her finger, this ring imbued with the men she loves, so maybe he’s not the only sentimental fool.

(One thing she loves about Sam is that he understands why she feels guilty that Shaun didn’t get to share this life with her.)

In July they light a little candle for Dean’s six-month birthday. When Julia wakes the next morning, Sam’s side of the bed is empty and cold. She finds him cuddling their sleeping baby in the living room. I got up to give him a bottle, Sam says. I guess I just fell asleep out here. His red-rimmed eyes and empty coffee mug suggest he didn’t actually sleep at all, but, well. They’re both battling their own private demons. If a night cradling the baby gives Sam some peace for whatever reason, she’s glad of it.

Sam’s fierce love for their child takes her by surprise. If Julia has 90% of his heart, his son has 110%. He parents with a vengeance, is the only way she can think of to describe it. Like he’s making up for something. She doesn’t feel slighted, but it’s impossible to ignore that ever since Dean was born, Sam’s prime objective has been to make sure the boy is happy and safe. Everything else comes second.

(When she notices Sam has been carefully marking his tattoo symbol onto Dean’s clothing, hidden near seams and always in a color that almost matches the fabric, she decides not to say anything. He gets a little funny about his superstitions sometimes.)

Sam desperately wants Dean to have a sibling, and they try for another one, but it doesn’t happen. Julia reminds him that they’re lucky to have even one child. That having a sibling is not a lifetime guarantee of companionship and love. She should know, after all, since Stephanie cut her off after she married that asshole Scientologist and decided she couldn’t have a relationship with anyone who wasn’t also in their stupid cult.

Dean has plenty of friends and tons of activities, which Sam encourages with an almost religious fervor, but he never pulls away from his parents. They have so much in common, Sam and his son. Instead of rebelling as a teenager, Dean seems to grow even closer to his father. They spend hours together, paging through the ancient books in Sam’s study (she hates them, they smell musty and make her sneeze) or driving in the old Chevrolet. They even travel together sometimes, visiting those friends of Sam’s that live up north somewhere. Julia met them at the wedding and they were perfectly nice, thrilled to death that she and Sam had found each other. But she always feels like an outsider when they’re around, like they’re part of something she’ll never understand. So much history, with Sam and the brother she never got to meet. They absolutely dote on Dean though, and he seems to love them too, so the boys’ trip to Sioux Falls becomes an annual event.

(Dean is 14 years old when he comes home from one of these trips with his own version of the tattoo.)

When Julia is diagnosed with cancer, Dean is 16 years old. Sam does his best to ensure life goes on as normal for their son but somehow never neglects Julia’s needs. He throws himself into research and is always on top of the latest treatment, always at her elbow with the top internet-recommended remedy for her side effects, making sure both she and Dean have everything they want and need, all the attention and support they can tolerate. She doesn’t know when, or if, Sam actually sleeps. When she feels up for it, he arranges experiences for the three of them. A week lying on the beach, a weekend in New York City, a night in the mountains looking at the stars. When we look back on this time, he says, I don’t want us to only remember how much it sucked. I want us all to have good memories too.

(She doesn’t know why he’s concerned about her memories. There’s a good chance she won’t have much time to enjoy them. But it’s good for Dean. She doesn’t want this to ruin Dean’s childhood.)

Sam insists Dean go away to college as planned. Julia agrees, although she’s kind of surprised he’s willing to let the boy out of his sight. Aren’t you going to miss him? she asks.

So much, he answers. But this isn’t about me, and what I need. It’s about him. They drive Dean to school in the ancient Chevrolet. Supposedly because the trunk has room for all of his stuff, but Julia is pretty sure it’s just one last sentimental road trip in the old thing before Sam retires it. When they pick Dean up at the end of the school year, it’s in her SUV. Dean promises his father, more than once, that he’ll restore the Chevy someday.

Five years after Julia’s diagnosis, she’s sitting in the doctor’s office learning that her last remission was her last remission. There are no more options. She has months, not years. Sam clutches her hand and nods, once, as if to say I should have known this would happen; I should have expected something like this. Then he takes her home.

It’s a blessing in a way, he says late that night, after a little too much to drink. Knowing what’s coming. Having time to say goodbye. You don’t always get that. And yes, she knows this as well as anybody does.

Sam has always been supportive of her choice not to contact Stephanie, but one day he says Jules, I promise I’ll never bring it up again. It’s just that I don’t want you to have any regrets. I don’t want you miss the opportunity to say things that you’ll wish you’d said. Julia isn’t sure Steph will speak to her. She’s not even sure she’ll have the same phone number — they haven’t spoken since Dad’s funeral, a year after she was widowed — but she makes the call. And Steph answers. And cries. And comes to visit, where she hugs and cries some more. Sam watches it all with a sad smile for a while, then disappears into the garage to sit in the old Chevy.

When Julia takes her last conscious breaths, Dean is holding one hand and Sam is holding the other. She squeezes her son’s hand and thinks I love you, dear boy, and I’m sorry I have to leave you. She squeezes her husband’s hand and thinks thank you for giving me this, thank you for taking care of me, thank you for loving me and letting me love you. Then she closes her eyes and lets the soft, warm darkness take over.

And then. Then she wakes to a cool breeze and the sound of chirping birds. She’s standing at a lake she recognizes. It’s Shaun’s favorite fishing spot. And Shaun is there, waiting for her. And everything is okay.

Sam does show up eventually. Julia’s sitting on the porch of the cabin with Shaun, enjoying the perpetual nice day (sometimes a spring morning, sometimes a fall afternoon, but always nice) when she hears the familiar rumble. It cant be, she thinks. It can’t be that old car. But it is.

I’m glad you found someone with good taste in cars, Shaun says, as Sam unfolds himself from the driver’s seat. He looks exactly as he did the day she met him; no glasses, only a little grey at his temples. Still tall and strong and beautiful. She runs to meet him and embraces him as Shaun watches from the porch.

You found Shaun, Sam says. I’m so happy for you, Jules. I really am. He doesn’t seem to have any intention of joining her (their) Heaven permanently, but he doesn’t seem to have anyone else with him either. Where is the dead girlfriend? How is this fair?

They talk about Dean, and Julia’s heart swells with pride over her strong, smart, kind, brave son. He’s like you, she says. He’s just like you.

Sam shrugs. He’s a Winchester.

But what about you? she says. You��re not — you’re not alone here, are you?

Nah, he says. I’m good. I promise.

(Eventually Julia meets the first Dean, and she understands.)

===

I know a lot of people have mocked Sam's blurry wife, but I actually have grown to love the concept. Because it means she can be anything we want her to be. And yeah, initially I liked the idea of her being Dr. Cara, or Eileen. But now I don't think that would happen. I think Sam would have to start fresh to have that kind of relationship. And I also like the idea of Sam's wife having her own soulmate somewhere, waiting for her, so she's not a huge part of Sam and Dean's shared Heaven. I mean, they're gonna visit, obviously. And then they'll go home to their soulmates.

The title is from "Blackbird" by the Beatles.

#spn #15.20 #my fic #episode coda #sam winchester

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bumblingbunny · 3 years

Text

Murder Mystery Results

Hey guys! I have finally put together the results from the poll and it’s led me to two different murder mystery ideas:

Idea 1

Years ago, a massacre occurred at a certain remote manor house. Since then, anyone who’s tried to stay there has claimed that it’s haunted. Skip to the present day, a group has been assembled to make a documentary on the history of the house and it’s hauntings. This group of strangers is made up of psychics, mediums, ghost hunters and the small tech crew tasked with filming it. However, things immediately don’t seem right with the producer never showing up. Then the murders start.

This idea would follow a single main character designed by the audience, and would feature some spooky elements along with voting for the big story moments.

Idea 2

A little less fleshed out, but this idea focuses on a cast made up of strangers and small friend groups, all of whom have gather at a ski resort to enjoy the winter weather. However a blizzard blow through trapping them there - and it doesn’t take long for the murder to seize this opportunity. This story would loop through the days, with each one following a different character. As for spooky elements, I think there would be a local legend for the characters to learn about. I still need to figure out how’d I do the voting moments for this one, so that they’re mixed throughout the story and not just during the first loop.

For now, I think I’m going to try work on idea 1. It’s a little easier to fit in certain elements, and my ideas for it are more defined at the moment. (However if you guys prefer idea 2, leave me a comment to let me know!)

Also, I WILL be making a perchance random generator to share soon! :D Just need to find the time and remind myself how to do it. It will also be featuring some awesome ideas from ninnin, Jex, The Magistra, SunshineNinja and a couple of nonnies!

Finally, I know I say it a lot, but I really appreciate everyone who took a moment to vote. I had so much fun and have some great ideas to play around with now! If you’d like to see the breakdown of votes, as well as my thoughts, you can find that all under the cut.

1. Which isolation location should this story take place in?

Haunted Mansion: 12

Snowed-in Ski Resort: 11

Remote Manor House: 10

Closed-Down Summer Camp: 10

Space/Ship: 3

Island: 2

New Suggestions: Abandoned Cabin, Abandoned City, Cruise Ship

This turned out a lot closer than I thought it would! About halfway through the voting only the Haunted Mansion and Remote Manor House had a significant amount of votes. The Ski Resort and Summer Camp only started gaining votes after I originally came up with the idea of the Haunted Manor House full of Mediums and Ghost Hunters - so I wanted to come up with another idea using one of them.

Also I LOVE the ideas you guys suggested! They’re so good!!

2. How Should the characters know each other?

Strangers: 20

Small Friend Groups: 11

Work/Club members: 8

Family members: 7

New Suggestions: All know the host or guest of honor, “Strangers” with a secret connection, Strangers brought together for an internet or UrbEx meetup, a mix of Strangers and friend/family groups

A group of strangers was the clear winner here with a couple variations on it offered. Am I using one of them for my plans? Who knows? You’ll have to wait and see! :)

3. How should the story be told?

Story follows a main character designed by the readers: 14

Days repeat with each loop focusing on a different character: 14

Linear storytelling focusing on wherever the action is: 10

Story skips between 2 timelines: 9

Days repeat with events changing each time: 9

Story is told in reverse or with the days mixed up: 3

My favorite two options won! Which doesn’t make choosing any easier... The main character one was in the lead at the start though, so my first idea was based on that and I fit the characters one into the second idea.

4. How MUCH murder should there be?

Somewhere around 2-4 spread throughout the story: 20

The murderer is trying/succeeding at killing everyone: 16

A single murder that the story focuses on: 7

New Suggestions: Dealer’s choice, Anything can happen! Is it the murderer or the characters making dumb choices? Who knows?

Look at all of that murder. You guys are so chaotic - I love it. :)

5. How happy should the ending be? (From As Happy as Possible to Break Our Hearts)

Nice and balanced results! Although I love that there are more votes for break our hearts than as happy as possible.

6. How do you feel about supernatural elements?

Maybe a little would be fun: 15

Make everything spooky: 14

No thanks: 7

New Suggestion: A previous rumor or haunting adds to the chaos and causes characters to make stupid decisions

Perfect results for the spooky season! I promise though that this won’t interfere with the clues or trying to figure out the murderer. I’ve been burned before with a “it can only be magic” solution - it’s so disappointing after you invest hours into a story.

7. Would you be interested in having audience interaction with polls to decide story elements?

Only for big story moments: 29

Regular polls every couple of days: 9

No thanks: 3

I was leaning towards voting for only big story moments, so I’m glad everyone seems to agree with it. One day I’d love to try the regular polls, but it’s a lot more work.

OTHER SUGGESTIONS:

“POSSIBLY allowing your audience to give you their OCs to use in the cast. It might be easier to populate the story and afford you an organically diverse set of characters.”

I would love this so much - everyone makes such pretty and unique sims and I always love getting them! However, using other people’s sims does add some pressure to get things done, which has sometimes stopped me from actually doing them. So at least for the first story, I’ll probably stick to just sims that I make. If I actually manage to finish it though, I’d be willing to try using audience OC’s for the second one!

“The cast should be varied in age”

Absolutely. The only thing I’m trying to figure out is what’s the minimum age a character should be. There’s not going to be any children, but I might allow older teens or just have the characters 18 or older. For some reason the idea of teens in this kind of situation doesn’t feel right to me - although a story focused on teens in a remote boarding school could be really fun.

A vote on whether the story is about Vanilla or Berry sims

I was originally thinking of making this story vanilla, but if enough people are interested in berry I could change that. Would you guys like to vote on this? It could be part of the main character creation poll.

#murder mystery poll #poll results #still don't know what to reblog this #also sorry it's so long #even before you reach the cut #I had a lot of fun thinking everything through though!#gotta start making some characters #and researching psychics and mediums #I know a bit more about ghost hunting from buzzfeed #and other shows

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hockeylvr59 · 4 years

Text

Secret Love Part 16 || Cale Makar

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: Super short transition chapter but a majorly important one. Here comes the fluff. It’s technically Saturday now which was when I had planned to post and I could use some serotonin so...guess that means you get it 12+ hours early.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1,546

~~~~~~

5 days. It had been 5 days since you’d seen Cale at your Canada Day party. It was silly and stupid, but this was the longest you’d gone without seeing him since he came home in May and you were going crazy.

Your parents had left yesterday, but with work you hadn’t gotten the chance to see him yet. Having spent your entire day in meetings with clients, now you were wrapping up a three hour open house and you were exhausted. Just as you were about to pack up, you heard the door open again and you sighed, ill wishes for whoever decided to wait until the very last moment to show up flooding through your mind.

Pasting a professional but ingenuine smile on your face, you turned to greet whoever had come through the door. When your eyes landed on a familiar broad figure and a set of rosy cheeks you gasped, your true smile quickly taking over your face.

“What are you doing here?” You reacted, heart pounding at the sight of Cale standing across the room from you.

“Thought my girl could use a friendly face to end her night.” Cale hummed. “I have ice cream in the car...wanna take a drive?”

“Could definitely use a friendly face.” You agreed. “Let me lock up.”

It only took you a few minutes to finish up, grabbing your things before heading out, the door locked behind you. Cale’s car was parked in front of yours and after dropping your things in your backseat you locked that as well before moving to where he was standing, waiting for you.

His hands fell to your hips as you pressed up to kiss him, air filling your lungs as you felt like you could breathe again for the first time in days.

“Let’s go before this ice cream melts.” Cale murmured against your lips before finally pulling away. Knowing that you could safely leave your car here until later, you climbed into Cale’s passenger seat, smiling at the cooler on the floor. As he drove, Cale talked about his day until he eventually pulled into a local park. You’d come here many times as children and the views were more appreciated now than they had been then. Grabbing the cooler, you let Cale lift you onto the hood of the car before he hopped up beside you.

Handing you a pint of your favorite ice cream, Cale pulled out a second pint for himself. Chocolate...shocking. Giggling to yourself, you uncapped your ice cream and grabbed a spoon from the cooler.

“What?” Cale asked, his expression making you giggle even more.

“You’re so adventurous when it comes to ice cream flavors.” You stated sarcastically. “I bet I couldn’t even get you to try mine. You hate strawberry.” You knew it wasn’t typical but you’d loved strawberry ice cream ever since you were little. Cale on the other hand, insisted that he hated it. There was no way he’d even taste the strawberry banana shortcake ice cream he’d brought for you.

So when Cale’s spoon swooped over and pulled a large spoonful from your container, your jaw nearly dropped in surprise. Intrigued, you just watched as him he ate the bite, trying to read his expression. After he swallowed he seemed to be pondering and you waited patiently for some reaction.

“Okay...maybe I was wrong…” Cale admitted after a moment. “That’s actually pretty good.” A triumphant grin spread across your face and you leaned back a little, basking in your tiny win.

“Is it now?” You teased, popping another spoonful into your own mouth. “I’m so telling your mom about this.”

“No need to be a braggart.” Cale pouted.

“What?! This is a momentous occasion. I have been trying to get you to do this for 20 years! And every time you said you hated strawberry!” Cale snuck another bite from your container, just shaking his head at you.

“I just can’t believe it took girlfriend status to get you to give in.” You declared, stealing a bite from his as well. Though you absolutely didn’t need to be eating a pint of ice cream, especially when you hadn’t had dinner, you relaxed on the hood of Cale’s car stealing bites back and forth until both pints were gone. And when Cale kissed you again after tossing the trash in a can nearby, you could taste the combination of strawberries and chocolate on his tongue.

“I really needed this.” You murmured, hands sliding down along his sides as he stood in front of you.

“I know.” Cale replied. “I did too.” He added, pulling you closer, your thighs spreading around his body. For a few minutes, you sat with him between your thighs just enjoying being together. But eventually, he stepped back, offering a hand out to help you slide down from the hood.

Once you were on your feet, Cale pulled you across the parking lot to the closest playground. There he guided you onto the swings before starting to push you.

“I remember when this was the other way around.” You commented, peeking over your shoulder at him. “And the time you tried to push me because you felt bad you were the only one getting to swing and you landed promptly on your ass because you were not prepared for impact.” Cale’s groan told you he remembered as well and you giggled again. “It was cute. You’ve always just wanted to take care of me.”

Cale didn’t respond, instead just continuing to push you higher and higher on the swing, wind blowing across your face. When you finally got tired of swinging, you let your feet drag along the ground until you had slowed enough to hop off.

“Do you want a turn?” You questioned, certain you knew the answer but asking anyway. When Cale shook his head, you turned to head back to the car, leaning against the side as you waited for Cale to unlock it.

“That hasn’t changed you know…” Cale whispered, his hand rubbing against the back of his neck as he stood just a few steps away from you.

“What hasn’t?” You asked, shivering as you felt the shift from a playful energy to a more serious one.

“Wanting to take care of you.” Your tongue swiped over your lips as a soft ‘oh’ spilled from your throat. “Lately I’ve kind of been thinking I wouldn’t mind taking care of you forever.”

Forever was a big word and you worked hard to keep your breathing steady as Cale crowded you against the car.

“I’m ready to say it if you are.” He murmured, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “I don’t fully know why we’ve been waiting...but I’m ready. We’re not in Iceland anymore. This is our normal world. This is real life. And the way I feel isn’t changing...at least not in the wrong direction.

“Cale…” You gasped out, tears pricking at your eyes. You honestly weren’t sure how long you’d dreamed of this moment but it was somehow something you hadn’t expected but everything you had all at once. “I’m ready too.”

“Good.” Cale breathed, his lips teasing over yours lightly. “I love you, Y/N. I really truly love you. Not as just my best friend, but as someone I kinda wanna spend the rest of my life with.”

“I love you too. Like I’m head over heels in love with you. This is a million times better than I ever could have dreamed, being with you.” You responded, your tears not falling far before Cale’s fingers swiped them away.

“Think we maybe should tell our parents now?” He chuckled, the look in his eyes that you’d seen before now making complete sense.

“Soon.” You breathed. “Give me a couple days to process the fact that you love me.”

“Of course.” Cale agreed. “There’s no rush. After all...we’ve got forever for them to learn don’t we.”

“Because you love me.” You whispered giddily. “And I love you.”

“Yeah sweetheart...I love you. You’re never going to get sick of those three words I don’t think…” He teased.

“Not falling from your lips. Directed at me.” Kissing him again felt different. Steadier, easier, open. There was nothing to hide from now. No holding back.

A honking horn was the sudden reminder that you were very much in a public place and you buried your head into Cale’s chest as he laughed.

“Our timing just continues to be spot on doesn’t it?” Cale sighed.

“Eh...we can work on that...if that’s all we need to improve I think we’re doing pretty good.” You shrugged.

“We’re doing great.” Cale replied, kissing you one more time before opening the car door for you.

Somehow with Cale, all the little moments were also the big moments. An ice cream date had led to your first ‘I love you’s’ just like a night in with takeout had led to your first kiss. It was a reminder to never take a single day for granted because they were all important, they all meant something.

And now you had a forever filled with little moments to look forward to. All with the love of your life by your side.

#cale makar #cale makar imagine #colorado avalanche #colorado avalanche imagine #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #cavalanche #038

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help-im-a-gay-fish · 4 years

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Okay, tell me more about Cream twins partners. How each couple met? How they end up together? Any fun cute facts? SPAM ME WITH INFORMATION! 🌸🌺🌸🌺🌸

Ooo! Yay! @kotikaleo this is a good ask.

Before I begin I want to make sure to clarify that both Crayon and Cindy were created by the wonderful @thebluescreen so credit for the characters go to them. (we share 3 ship kids universes)

And once again I wanna say : Disclaimer, This Celest and Luna are the children of Cross and Dream. NOT Cross and Shattered Dream. They are a alternate universe version of the Dark cream twins. They should not be confused as being the same.

I'm gonna start with Celest and her husband Crayon.

These two first met when Celest was 11 and Crayon was 12. For them it was basicly love at first sight. Celest and Luna both grew up travelling around the multiverse and that's how the met.

Crayon is a half human half monster who originally came from a dust tale time line. But more about him will come from @thebluescreen

It was an awkward, inconvenient first encounter. Luna had just broken her leg trying to do a back flip off a table (she was a dumb kid) and Celest (who had been learning first aid from a book) attempted to set it. And she made it a whole lot worse. (cross and dream weren't there at the time, they had left them alone for 10 minutes)

Crayon and his friend went over to help luna. The stress of the situation caused celest to throw up a large amount of gloop and then loose her strength in her legs and fall over. Crayon was close enough to her to catch her as she fell and gently lowered her to the ground. They locked eyes and well, they had basically been crushing on eachother since then.

It took Luna locking them in a room together and refusing to let them out till they confessed to do the trick.

They got together when Celest was 15 and Crayon was 16.

The two were very much in love. The slightly over the top, sugary sweet, child hood sweethearts. Used a bunch of cheesey names.

"I love you my sugar sweet snuggle muffin"

"not as much as I love you my cookie cream cuddle bear"

And luna is just the awkward 3rd wheel.

OK so Luna was in a relationship with this monster called Daisy from the age of 16 to 20. Daisy was a bitch, but more on that below.

It was all good till Celest turned 18, she started to get soul pain. Up until this point her sickness had been bothersome, but not to serious.

But after seeing a soul doctor, she was informed that the curruption was starting to attack her soul, and there was a possibility that it would kill her. Of course her and her family were heart broken, crayon included.

Celest went through a stage of being unhappy. The idea that she could die terrorised her. She had nightmares and got stressed to the point of alot of puking fits.

Her main conforts where her sister and boyfriend.

"I just can't help thinking of everything I'll miss out on. Marriage, children...... Travelling the multiverse...... But at least I have you right?"

So crayon responded with.

"then let's get married"

Of course Celest was shocked and was sure she'd misheard him. But then he said.

"you said that you were afraid of missing out on it, but this way we won't! I want to marry you, if you'll have me."

Celest said.

"but we are both so young, you shouldn't have to carry my burden. You have a life to live"

He said

"I want to spend it with you"

And she said yes.

Yay.

They were married just under a year later and where very happy. Cross was alittle sad to see his princess grow up so fast. But in the end they were all happy.

Crayon is truly Celest's rock. He's very sweet and good to her. To him, she is the bright light in his life, with her kindness and smarts.

They normally spend there time curled up watching movies. Or taking trips to aus like outertale to look at stars. Its all very lovey dovey.

For Luna, love was never all that easy. As I said above her first girlfriend Daisy was a bitch.

Daisy was a emotionally horrible person to Luna. Constantly telling her things like, how she needs to summon ecto or she looks like a man. Or how bones just aren't that attractive. How that fact that she was so close to her sister was creepy. In the end it was revealed that she'd been cheating on Luna while Luna had been helping her sister in the hospital. Luna finally dumbed her.

Years passed and Luna would tell people that she was ok and over it. But in truth it left huge emotional scars. She started avoiding committed relationships like the plague.

Over the years she has had a few casual girlfriends, flings and hook ups. But she told people that long term wasn't her thing, Celest knew that wasn't true, but she couldn't force her sister to date someone. It all changed when she ment Cindy.

She meets Cindy when she's 27. Basically, she met Cindy through Crayon. Since Cindy was the best friend of Crayon's sister's boyfriend.

Cinder is a underlust Sansby child and is a girl who knows what she's got and flaunts it slightly. When Luna first saw her, she went into 'oh no she's hot' mode.

Infact this was there first interaction.

Cindy "hi, I'm Cinder. It's nice to meet you"

Luna *gay panic*

Luna "wanna see me do a back flip?"

Cindy "wa-

Luna trys to back flip and falls on her face.

Cindys "you ok there?" *offers hand to help her up*

Luna *takes her hand and is helped to her feet*

Luna *more 'omg she's touching me!' gay panic *

Luna "wanna see me do a back flip?"

So yeah, Luna is very gay.

The attraction was physical to start with. Luna was smitten to the strong, confident, sexy fire girl. Que Luna repeatedly doing stupid things to try and impress her.

The best way to sum it up would be.

Pfff OK XD

Luckily for Luna though, Cindy starts to fall for the goofy cluts. Not only is Luna just a loveable idiot, but she is also quite attractive.

Cindy comes in one day while she's training and watches her spar with Cross and do a back flip successfully. She's a skilled fighter and is just as Good At Yoga as her dad is. So yeah, Luna is quite attractive to Cinder in her own right.

Cindy starts using alot of pet names for her, calling her Moony and Princess. This embarrasses Luna to no end.

So what happens? Well.

After Luna has once again fallen to the ground while trying inpress Cindy and is kind of laying there defeated. The following conversation happens.

Cindy "you need some help there Moony?"

Luna *blushes* "you know I'm gonna come up with an embarrassing nickname to call you, you know!"

Cindy "really Princess?"

Luna "yes! Uhhhhh Cinderella! Ha!"

Cindy "Cinderella? You think I've not been called that before"

Luna "dam it uh... I've got it! Toffee"

Cindy "Toffee"

Luna "yes, like Cinder toffee, and because you really like sweet foods and-

Cindy "and you could totally eat me?" *smirks*

Luna *without thinking* "yes absolutely"

Silence.

And my friend if you don't get the joke.... Its probably to mature for you. This basically causes Cinder to turn up the flirt on Luna, who is very embarrassed about saying that. To Cindy it has basically been confirmed that Luna wants her, and she's into that.

Luna freaks out *thank you gay panic* and yells "I'M STRAIGHT!" and runs away.

Luna then spends the next two days being consoled by her sister. Meanwhile Cindy asks around to find out if Luna is really straight. It is very quickly confirmed to her that Luna is very much gay and very much into her.

She conforts Luna about this and after Luna attmits that she is gay and is about to confess her crush, Cindy pins her to the wall and kisses her.

Long story short Luna gets to eat her and they go to bed together. And after that they become 'causal' girlfriends. It doesn't take to long for there feelings for eachother to evolve from a physical attraction into real love. But they would never confront their feelings.

Texting eachother till the early hours of the morning? just causal.

Inviting Cindy to family Christmas? just causal.

Laying in eachothers arms in bed, not wanting to get up. Just causal.

Who knows if they will ever confront how they really feel? Maybe some unfortunate life events will force them to.

Fun facts about the couples.

Cindy has a whole bunch of pet names for Luna, after they start dating she most commonly calls her Starlight. But has a whole list more

Crayon loves to buy his wife flowers. He's quite a soft man and I like to think he takes great care in picking out a bunch of flowers. He'll most commonly buy her roses. He also likes to prepare picnics so that they can go out to aus together.

Cindy has a huge sweet tooth. Luna has often tried to bake for her. Lu Lu isn't a very skilled Baker though. But if she presents Cindy with a plate of slightly burnt cupcakes splattered with icing, it will make Cinder's heart melt.

Crayon often has to help Celest get dressed in the mornings. Since the marks commonly appear on her arms and legs. Crayon has taken a very long time to practice how to help her dress without causing pain.

Some mornings, especially after they've had a busy night, Cinder will often steal Luna's shirt. She will wear it around the house. "but babe... That's my shirt"........... "I've got no idea what you're talking about Moony".

Celestial star would be the type to call her husband at work out of nowhere just to remind him that she loves him.

The first time they kissed, Celest got so nervous and excited that she threw up gloop all over him.

Cindy loves to roller skate and would attempt to teach Luna how to. After a long time of Luna falling over into many comprising positions, Cinder simply wraps her arms around her waist and they skate together.

Crayon is a half human-half monster, so he can practice some magic. One thing he likes to do is make little figures of butterflys fly around his wife's hospital room when she has to stay at the hospital. It always makes her day.

#Ask #This took a while to type out #Hope ya like it #Bluescreen says they will be posting art of Crayon and Cindy soonish #Be sure to ask them for more details #undertale au #shipping #cross x dream #undertale multiverse #sansest #dream x cross #celestial star and luna light #Ships for the ship kids #Cindy x luna #Crayon x celest #Cream ship kids

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goodomensblog · 4 years

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Afterward - Part 17

A Good Omens Choose Your Own Adventure Fic

Here’s how it works:

I’ll write a scene.

At the end of each scene, you’ll be presented with 2-3 options for what the characters will choose to do next.

Comment or reblog to vote for your choice. I’ll count all votes after the first 24 hours after each update is posted.

Read: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16

(#2 definitely won - but #4 was a pretty close second, so we’re doing the classic punch and run!)

Afterward - - - Part 17

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

Entropy, rising up, tilts its head and smiles a wide, infinitely deep grin. Pale, ephemeral tendrils squirm where the creature’s head and neck are rapidly reconnecting.

Gabriel has picked up the sword and is twisting it up.

Beelzebub, however, beats him to the punch. Literally.

“Mine,” is all Beelzebub manages, a low, rasping shout. Pushing roughly in front of the archangel, Beelzebub winds a bloodied fist back and strikes.

Their knuckles smack between its eyes - and with a wet sounding squelch, the head which hadn’t yet fully re-attached, flies off Entropy’s shoulders.

This time, however, Entropy seems to retain consciousness, and the head screeches in outrage as it careens across the room.

“Shoo, bitch,” Beelzebub spits.

“My angels,” the head shrieks, rolling across the floor. “Your master commands you! Attack!”

From the top of the courtyard, where tiled roofs curve above stone carved archways, movement draws Beelzebub’s gaze up.

Angels line the tile rooftop, their formidable white wings spread wide. In the place where the angels’ eyes should be, dark, sunken pools hauntingly stare.

From behind Beelzebub, Gabriel makes a low noise of distress.

Beelzebub scans the faces. There are none they readily recognize - Michael and Uriel, at least, are absent. But surely most of the dark eyed angels are - or were - under Gabriel’s command.

“No…” the archangel breathes.

Forcibly ignoring the pain they feel radiating off Gabriel in cold, nauseating waves, Beelzebub shakes their head and, squeezing their hands into fists, cracks their knuckles one by one.

“What are they?” Aziraphale asks, horror lacing his words.

The first angel steps from the rooftop. Where it lands, stone splinters around its feet. From its eyes, black ichor drips, trailing like tears down its pure, celestial skin. It takes a second step, and the floor cracks anew.

“That,” Crowley says, speaking up from the back, “looks like an angel on steroids. Bloody evil steroids.”

Another angel drops. Then another. Gray dust from pulverized stone rises in an ominous cloud.

“I - I have to-” Gabriel is muttering, and Beelzebub can feel him moving behind them, probably making up his mind to do something stupid.

“Yeah,” Beelzebub says, surveying the hoard of freaky angels. “Fuck this noise.”

Turning right the hell around, Beelzebub grabs Gabriel roughly by the arm.

When he doesn’t move - like the absolute asshole he is - Beelzebub grits their teeth and yanks, violently hauling the lead-limbed archangel with them. When they look up and see that Aziraphale and Crowley are still standing there, waiting, they yell, “Oi! Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum! Fucking move!”

Crowley and Aziraphale retreat through the doorway, but go no further.

Beelzebub is panting, blood from a cut they didn’t even realize they had dripping into their eyes, and the room is tilting as a frankly annoying whine picks up in their ears - but this is no time to pass out, so Beelzebub doesn’t.

At least Gabriel is finally moving; Beelzebub, all too happy to release him, shoves the archangel through the door.

Upon crossing the threshold, Beelzebub is hastily elbowed out of the way by Crowley; Aziraphale, bracing a hand on the wall, traces glowing symbols on the floor.

“What’s-”

“That’s why we were waiting,” Crowley snaps.

Beelzebub reflects that if the room were spinning any less, they would have happily smacked that smug look off his face.

Instead, they crouch, bracing their hands on their knees.

Aziraphale straightens up with a satisfied nod. “That’ll do the trick.”

Then Crowley is swinging the door closed. Hand on the handle, he melts the lock.

“If Aziraphale did what I think he did, we do not want to be here when they cross that threshold,” Crowley says.

“I did,” Aziraphale says with a grim smile.

Gabriel, who Beelzebub thinks is looking more like his usual insufferable self by the minute, claps his hands together. “Then let’s fucking go!”

“Right!” Crowley crows, pointing at Gabriel, “Your illicit sneaking out of Heaven door!”

Beelzebub and Aziraphale turn to look at Gabriel.

“Okay it’s really not as weird as he’s making it sound.”

“It doesn’t matter-” Aziraphale says with a wave, but Beelzebub isn’t listening.

Blinking rapidly, they frown at the black dots blossoming across their vision. They immediately blink harder because they are not going to pass out; It is a fucking bad time for losing consciousness - and besides, they’d honestly rather die than look weak in front of these morons.

Crowley is turning, leading the way, and Beelzebub starts to step after him - when everything takes a sharp and sudden dip.

And shit - Beelzebub thinks, consciousness slipping as a roaring white noise fills their ears. Blackness is spreading, sweeping across their vision.

They see outstretched, reaching hands - and then darkness swallows them whole.

Reality narrows to individual, isolated moments.

The press of fine, soft as silk fabric against their cheek.

A long hallway lit by a single flickering light.

Aziraphale, pale with purple bruises beneath his eyes, pulling a tapestry aside - pushing a doorway open.

Crowley’s hands cupped around that strange, blue flame.

Then white light - at the end of a long, dark tunnel.

Beelzebub stiffens, crying out in protest - because they know the saying about light and tunnels, and they straight up refuse to let that prick Death lay those frigid hands on them now.

This is followed by the soft, hesitant brush of fingers over their forehead and a whisper-soft murmur. “Don’t worry. It’s not that kind of tunnel.”

Again, darkness.

And then Crowley is exclaiming, shouting excitedly, and Beelzebub squints their eyes open to glaring sunlight - and a sleek black car, parked on what appears to be a random London street corner.

When someone swings one of the rear doors open, Beelzebub has a sense of deja vu as they are laid down on black leather seats.

Voices drone, someone shifts beside them, and the car awakens with a reassuring purr; Beelzebub’s tired eyes close.

- - -

Brushing his hands over the steering wheel, Crowley sits in the Bentley, taking a moment to enjoy the car’s energetic rumble. She doesn’t handle long periods of idleness very well. And though Crowley hasn’t been gone all that long, he imagines it must have been rather demoralizing to have been abandoned on a lonesome countryside road. He’ll have to make sure she’s still in working shape.

“Just cause I gave you a little vacation,” Crowley says, tapping the dashboard admonishingly, “is no excuse for any slacking off, you understand?”

The car rumbles, and Crowley sighs, rolling his eyes. “See? I leave you for half a day and now I’m getting back talk.”

“Can we please just fucking go?” Gabriel snaps.

A glance in the rear-view mirror reveals the altogether unpleasant sight of Gabriel’s frowning face.

The archangel is pressed up against the door, his large arms folded impractically in front of him.

Beelzebub, in the few minutes after they’d been set down, had somehow completely rotated, and now they stretch out, arms flung out in either direction. Their booted feet are kicked up - one jabbing Gabriel’s side and the other shoved up against his face.

The archangel glowers.

From the passenger seat, Aziraphale clears his throat.

Crowley’s attention is immediately diverted.

Aziraphale is battered. Deep scratches scatter over the entirety of his person, and a bone deep exhaustion shows in his overall pallor and the bags like dark bruises gathering beneath his light eyes.

Crowley has the impulse to stroke a thumb beneath that gentle gaze and burn a miracle to soothe some of the exhaustion marring his skin.

He doesn’t.

Because he filled Aziraphale’s veins with demon blood, and Crowley isn’t entirely sure Aziraphale won’t come to resent him for it.

The desperate transfusion had worked. Aziraphale is here. That is what matters. But the fact that the cost of this gamble - the cost of mixing that which was never meant to join - has yet to reveal itself, leaves Crowley deeply on edge.

“Dear,” Aziraphale says, mercifully interrupting Crowley’s rapidly spiraling thoughts. “We fled the bookshop earlier because we believed we were dealing with a threat who knew us, personally. Entropy does not know us. And I presume that it does not know where I live.”

“...you want to go home, don’t you?”

“Yes I want to go home!” Aziraphale says in a rush, hands folded, his fingers twisting together. “It’s been a really long day.”

Crowley considers, drumming his fingers on the wheel. “I suppose we could ward the hell out of it.”

Aziraphale is eagerly nodding, “I already have a good few around the foundation as it is.”

“Is it defensible?” Gabriel asks.

“Better,” Aziraphale replies. “It’s hidden.”

“Though adding a few defenses wouldn’t hurt,” Crowley adds.

“As long as we get off the damned street,” Gabriel says with a weary sigh.

“That, we can do,” Crowley says, shifting the car into drive.

“Wait!” Aziraphale says, grabbing Crowley’s arm. “First, we need food, Crowley.”

“....right this second?”

“As soon as possible. You do realize that we should avoid using powerful miracles at the moment, right?”

Crowley glances in the rear-view mirror, only somewhat mollified to see that Gabriel is also staring at Aziraphale with an expression of blatant confusion.

“Er - yes? I mean, we don’t want to go around putting beacons on our heads,” Crowley replies. “But what in the world does this have to do with food?”

Aziraphale is staring at him like he might be stupid - which he’s not. Right?

Crowley checks the rear-view mirror again.

Gabriel is squinting at Aziraphale. “Aziraphale. What are you talking about?”

Aziraphale looks between them, mouth agape.

From the backseat, Beelzebub groans.

“Angel,” Beelzebub says, cracking an eye reluctantly open, “They’re both idiots. Don’t… strain their brains.”

Aziraphale glances back, relief evident. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“Of course I know what you’re talking about!” Beelzebub replies, and the other eye opens to a menacing slit. “Food strengthens your bloody corporation. You. Are. Living. In. It. So fucking feed it. The stronger your corporation is - the stronger you are.”

Aziraphale is nodding vigorously. “And we are all very injured. Beelzebub especially. A good meal will help kick start our angelic - and demonic - healing.”

“Ah,” is all Crowley manages.

“Honestly, dear. You really didn’t know that?”

Crowley, who will frankly never admit that he played hookie during the body orientation seminar to check out the strange angel he’d seen walking up on Eden’s wall, adjusts his glasses and shrugs. “I’m a demon. What’s the archangel’s excuse?”

“Corporeal bodies are not my department.”

Beelzebub blows a raspberry.

“Since you’re awake, your highness - mind moving your foot out of my face?”

Beelzebub’s only reply is a long, deep snore.

Crowley shuts both of them up by jerking the car into motion.

Food it is!” Crowley says, foot sinking satisfyingly down on the gas pedal. “And I know just where to take us.”

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

The angels and demons have managed to escape Heaven and flee from Entropy. Before holing up at Aziraphale’s bookshop and deciding their next move - Aziraphale insists they get something to eat. Crowley decides the best place to get a couple of angels and demons lunch is….

The grocery store! Crowded around a single cart, they will shuffle round the aisles of the local grocery mart, exploring the strange wonders of fluorescent illuminated human cuisine.

The Ritz! Sitting elbow to elbow around a pristine white tablecloth, they will be sipping at champagne and making awkward small talk. Probably nothing will catch fire.

The drive thru! Packed in the Bentley, Crowley will drive them all to the greasiest of fast food establishments. With all three speaking at once, Crowley will attempt to order.

Please comment or reblog to vote! :)

Part 18

#my writing #choose your own adventure #choose your own adventure fic #ineffable husbands #ineffable partners #ineffable bureaucracy #aziraphale #crowley #good omens beelzebub #good omens gabriel #good omens #good omens fic #good omens fanfiction #multi-chapter fic #ineffable husbands fic #ineffable husbands fanfiction

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howaminotinthestrokesyet · 3 years

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Road Dogs: Metallica on Tour

Metallica‘s first ever gig took place at Radio City in Anaheim, California in March 1982. Their set list included primarily covers with only two original songs, “Hit the Lights” and “Fight Fire with Fire.” They did Savage’s ‘Let It Loose,’ Blitzkrieg’s ‘Blitzkrieg,’ Sweet Savage’s ‘Killing Time’ and four Diamond Head tracks. For diehard fans, this original lineup did not include Cliff Burton as of yet, but instead Ron McGovney. They eventually asked him to leave the group because the guitarist did not contribute anything of value. Another good reason came in the fact that Dave Mustaine fought with him repeatedly. James Hetfield would later say this about that show. “There were a lot of people there, maybe 200, because we had all my school friends and all Lars’ and Ron’s and Dave’s buddies. I was really nervous and a little uncomfortable without a guitar, and then during the first song Dave broke a string. It seemed to take him an eternity to change it and I was standing there really embarrassed. We were really disappointed afterwards. But there were never as many people at the following shows as there were at that first one.”

Metallica’s second and third show took place at the Whiskey a Gogo in Los Angeles. This venue would be where Hetfield and Lars Ulrich first heard future bassist Cliff Burton and his band Trauma. More recently, Ulrich revealed diary entries related to Metallica’s appearances there. "No sound check. Sound was awful. Played great myself, but the band as a whole sucked. Went down OK." The group opened for Saxon, who the drummer had met six months prior after sneaking backstage during one of their shows. After the concert, the monitor engineer asked Ulrich if he had ever heard of Diamondhead. “Of course, we have, we just played a bunch of their songs!" As it turned out, the crew member was only joking about Diamond Head. He would later go on to work for Metallica in the same position for 22 years.

On April 16, 1983 Metallica played its first show with new guitarist Kirk Hammett at the Showplace in Dover, New Jersey. They had begun recording their debut album Kill ‘Em All in Rochester, New York at that time. The set list included all original material that would land on that first album making up nine songs. Hammett had replaced Dave Mustaine, who held quite a bit of ill will towards him for years claiming in 1985 that Kirk ripped off all his guitar riffs, which got him noticed in the metal community. In defense of Hammett, he was simply trying not to make waves in his new group as Ulrich and Hetfield had definitely decided not to cut any contributions from Mustaine.

On March 5, 1983 Metallica played its first show with Cliff Burton at The Stone in San Francisco, who had replaced Ron McGovney. In 2018, a recording of the show came to light online, which you can listen to on YouTube. The lineup still included Dave Mustain as well taking place a month before the other band members would fire him. They performed 12 songs that night essentially previewing everything to be included on their debut album. At that time, James Hetfield was still struggling over whether he should sing lead. On the recording, you can tell why this became the case as his voice sounds incredibly scratchy with absolutely no technique whatsoever. The show also became memorable as a Cliff Burton debuted the future track, “Anesthesia (Pulling Teeth).”

Cliff Burton played his last show was Metallica in Stockholm, Sweden in September 1986 before his tragic passing. A few years ago, Metallica released a boxed set of rarities for their album, Master of Puppets, which included a recording of that final show. In an interview with Rolling Stone, Lars Ulrich and Kirk Hammett talked about their memories of that last concert with Cliff. Ulrich noted, “We played the show in Stockholm, and it went incredibly well. I think it may have been a rare case where we actually played an additional song that wasn’t on the set list, because the show was so good. That’s not something we did a lot then or now. So there was a good vibe.” Hammett would say this in the same interview, “It was significant because it was the first show where James played guitar again (Wrist Injury). He strapped on a guitar and was able to play the encore; I think it was “Blitzkrieg” or something. But I remember the five of us, including John Marshall, being really stoked James was back and playing and looking like was gonna make a pretty healthy recovery. I distinctly remember that show being good, and the feeling when we got offstage was really great and positive and forward-looking. Like, “Great, James is back in and it won’t be long ’til we’re back to our old selves again.”

In November 1986, Jason Newsted would play his first show with Metallica at the Country Club in Reseda, California. He did so in front of a sparse crowd because it had been a secret show for the group Metal Church. Newsted had played with the band for only a short time during rehearsals for the next album. James Hetfield introduced Newsted for the very first time in this way. “Welcome to the very, very secret Metallica gig that every fucker knows about! Here’s the new fucker right over here man, this is the guy… Jason Newsted, we fucking love him, man, so make him feel at home, alright? I want to have some fun tonight.” Their set list would consist of 14 songs from their first three album releases.

In the summer of 1992, Metallica decided to perform a few dates with Guns ‘N Roses. The hype for these shows represented the tour of the year, but the show in Montreal turned into a tragic affair. A pyrotechnic accident occurred as they performed “Fade To Black” causing second and third degree burns on half of singer James Hetfield's body. He recalled the incident, “I'm burnt – all my arm, my hand completely, down to the bone. The side of my face, hair's gone. Part of my back. ... I watched the skin just rising, things going wrong." Jason Newsted would remember that Hetfield looked like the Toxic Avenger from his vantage point. The group immediately cut the show short, so the singer could receive medical attention. He would later say that during the trip to the hospital a road crew member bumped his burnt hand leading him to punch the guy in his “nuts.” For fans still at the show, things only got worse as Guns ‘N Roses delayed getting on stage for two hours. Axl Rose probably only sang for 20 minutes before cutting his night short. GNR Had known what had happened to Hetfield, but they still phoned it in anyway. After that, 2000 people rioted in protest followed by several arrests. This night would lead to great animosity between the two groups for years continuing to this day, but it should be noted that Metallica acted professionally completing the tour with an injured Hetfield. Slash of Guns N’ Roses would later talk about the tour being a financial disaster for them. “Metallica was earning the exact same paycheck as we were every night but while they pocketed the whole thing, we were blowing 80 percent both on union dues for all of the overtime we cost ourselves going on late and on these stupid theme parties. It was just bad." Axl had spent extravagantly on backstage parties in an effort to impress members of Metallica.

In April 1999, Metallica recorded two performances on successive nights with the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra led by Michael Kamen. The idea for such a concert had first come up when they worked with the composer on the Black Album song, “Nothing Else Matters.” He had approached them about such a collaboration, but never heard anything until years later receiving a phone call from Lars Ulrich. They filmed the live show at Berkeley Community Theater in San Francisco as Kamen had written additional material to supplement Metallica’s arrangements. The band also released two new songs specifically for the show, “No Leaf Clover” and “Human.” According to James Hetfield, This idea of combining heavy metal and classical music was originally an idea brought up by Cliff Burton, who had a strong background in both. One can see this throughout Metallica’s songwriting in their early years as the bassist relied on melody and instrumental qualities found in classical compositions like his favorite one, Johan Sebastian Bach. S&M would be released as a concert film and an album, with the latter reaching number one on the Billboard 200 chart.

In 1991, Metallica would play a concert in Russia that has become the stuff of legends because 1.6 million people watched it in person. The highlight of the show came when they played “Enter Sandman” as one could see Russian military personnel rocking out just as hard as anybody else. One must note that they were not the only band there that day as other artists included the Black Crowes, Queensryche, Motley Crue, and AC/DC. The Monsters of Rock Festival would only occur this one year in what would become the former Soviet Union. Motley Crue had played one of the early versions of the festival in 1984, but ironically Metallica had surpassed them as a more popular headliner by this time.

In August 2020, Metallica became the first rock act to perform a pre-recorded concert for Encore Live’s drive-in series. Due to COVID-19 restrictions, live concerts were canceled all over the world, so artists like Blake Shelton and Garth Brooks participated in this drive-in movie concert experience. Tickets to view this at your local drive-in cost $115 for up to six people per car. The show took place at an undisclosed location near their home in San Rafael, California.

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padfootagain · 4 years

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Hello everyone! I'm so happy to host a new event for my blog! It has been a while since I made one of these writing events, and I hope you will enjoy it! I've organized it to celebrate my blog hitting 4.7k followers!!! This is unbelievable, tbh, I have no idea what you guys are doing around here, but thank you so much for it anyway!!

So, for the coming weeks, I'll be writing your requests, that you can send me using the prompts I'm proposing in this post, under the cut! I hope you'll have fun!

Carole, what is going on now?

For this event, I'll be answering some prompts! The idea is simple: you choose one of the characters I write for and a few prompts, and I will write a one-shot for the character you have chosen, using the prompts you have chosen. You can also indicate more details that you would like to be included in your request (a specific AU or situation… ). It's super easy, and it makes you choose what I'll write for the next 2 or 3 weeks!

How do we request something?

In order to send a request, all you have to do is send me an ask through my inbox (please, do not use the dms, it is much harder to manage for me and I will probably forget about your request…). You can choose between 1 and 5 prompts amongst the prompts listed below the cut. The prompts are pieces of dialogue, and it will be my job to imagine a scenario where the characters use these lines. Choose also a character. It has to be a character in my masterlist (at the exception of Billy Russo and Regulus Black, their requests are closed). If you're a little shy, don't hesitate to switch on the anon function, I will still accept your request! Please, only ask for one request, because I want to write for as many people as possible.

And that's it! Super easy, isn't it?

A sum up?

In order to get a one-shot:

-Choose a character in my masterlist (except for Billy Russo and Regulus Black, their requests are closed)

-Choose between 1 and 5 prompts that you would like to see appear in your one-shot. There are 100 of them, and they are all gathered below the cut! No need to send me the whole prompt, just send me the number corresponding to your prompts!

-Send me a message through my inbox (no private messages)

-You can only make one request, so choose wisely ;)

-You can ask as an anon if you're a little shy

-I'll be working hard on your request, so a little nice message or at least a 'hello' would be lovely :)

The requests will be open for 48 hours (September 8 – September 10 2020), and they are open beginning… right now! The duration for the opened requests for the event might change, depending on how many requests I receive.

Please, be understanding that there is no way for me to judge if this event will be popular or not. If I receive too many requests, I won't be able to write all of them. I'm sorry if I don't have time to go to your request, please, be understanding if that happens. But maybe I'll have time to write all of them! It is hard for me to judge beforehand.

I hope you have fun with this event, and thank you all again for your support!

The prompts for the event are listed below. For a few of them, they might include several lines. All prompts are given a number, all you have to do is send me the number corresponding to the prompts you want, no need to type the whole thing in the ask.

Have fun!

NB: I have no idea why so many of those give off some serious idiots in love and idiots to lovers energy, but… it happened…

1."KISSES!"

2. "You are too far away."

"I am literally on the couch with you..."

"But are you in my arms? No. See? Too far away."

3. "If you weren't so cute, I would break your legs right now."

4. "Wait… are you jealous?"

5. "Stars and tequila. It's perfect."

"No. Stars, tequila and you. That it perfect."

6."I think I've made a mistake. Very big mistake. The kind that makes me wonder if I should escape to another country..."

7. "I WANT MY COOKIES!!"

8. "Maybe I love you a little too much, and that's why it hurts sometimes."

9. "Does it hurt?"

"Not that... OUCH!"

10. "I can't believe you got punched in the face."

"For you. I got punched in the face for you."

11. "It's dark, and it's late, and I'm cold and I'm drenched with this freaking rain and yet all I can think about is that I love you."

12. "I know you don't love me. It's okay. I will be whatever you want me to be."

13. "You don't need to love me for me to love you, you know? That's not how loving works. It would save us all from a lot of pain if it did."

14. "What do you mean you have a date?"

15. "I propose that we get excessively drunk and then ruin our lives as a consequence. Sounds good?"

16. "I'll always be here for you. Don't you know that by now? That I'll never leave?"

17. "I think we need... to make something explode."

18. "I'm pretty stupid, aren't I?"

19. "Huh... is that my shirt you're wearing?"

20. "I miss you. I hate it. I hate you. I love you."

21. "I'm proud to be with you."

22. "So... huh... are we gonna mention that you've just snogged me or...?"

23. "What do you mean lying to your family about us? What do you mean you need a 'plus one'?"

24. "I have only one thing to say: that is the stupidest idea I've ever heard. Let's do it."

25. "Huh... were you going to... propose?!"

26. "Will you marry me?"

27. "Look... I don't mean to be blunt but... you and me, it's a forever kind of thing. And there's no escape from that."

28. "Fate? Me loving you, you think it's fate? Nah, it's not fate. It's a choice. I choose to love you and to give you everything I own and everything I am every single day. And that's why what we have is true love."

29. "Do you have ANY idea of how worried I was about you?"

30. "I think you've just… puked on my shoes."

31. "I swear, if you die, I'm going to kill you."

32. "You're perfect."

33. "I love you. Do you think you could ever love me too?"

34. "Cuddles, cuddles, cuddles!"

35. "I'm sorry. For everything. I'm not going to ask you to forgive me though, cause I know that I don't deserve it."

36. "Just… shut up and kiss me."

37. "Please… stay."

38. "But if you leave now, what am I going to do with the rest of my life?"

39. "I don't want anything but you."

40. "You deserve so much more than what I can give you."

41. "I wish I did, but I don't deserve you."

42. "You make me so happy, it hurts a little."

43. "What if we don't make it?"

44. "Are you… are you bleeding?"

45. "I… I'm begging you… if you must kill someone, then kill me. But please, please… let him/her go."

46. "I can't lose you."

47. "What do you mean… you're pregnant?"

48. "You are so annoying…"

49. "You're an idiot. I love you."

50. "Don't leave me. Don't ever leave me…"

51. "Well… that was hot."

52. "So… good morning?"

"We're in the same bed. What the fuck are we doing in the same bed?!"

53. "I mean, we don't have a choice… there's only one bed. And I am not sleeping on that dirty carpet."

54. "Us being together, it's a terrible idea."

55. "LOOK! IT'S SNOWING!"

56. "This is the worst Halloween costume I have ever seen."

57. "Promise you'll always love me."

58. "I need your word. Promise me that you'll come back to me."

59. "So… does that mean… farewell?"

60. "I think we’re excellent at making memories.”

61. "Did you… did you sleep with him/her?"

62. "Where are you?"

63. "BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!"

64. "Dear God… I'm surrounded by idiots…"

65. "I don't want you to go with him/her. I want you to choose me instead."

66. "What if we stayed in bed all day?"

67. "You fool! Fear my wrath!"

"Babe, you're threatening me with a broccoli, it is not very convincing."

68. "Karaoke night!"

69. "I am full of surprises!”

“Sadly, yes, you are...”

70. "Dance with me. Please?"

71. "I would do anything to convince you to give me a chance."

72. "I know it's hard. I know that life keeps on getting in the way. But I love you. I love you with my entire being, and I'm willing to fight for you. I'm willing to fight to keep you."

73. "Are you… are you crying?"

74. "Stop stealing my blanket!"

75. "Happy New Year!"

76. "Merry Christmas!"

77. "Is that for me?"

78. "Happy birthday!"

79. "So… is that… a date?"

80. "What do you mean it was a date? It wasn't a date!"

"Of course, it was a date!"

81. "Well… that… was a good kiss…"

82. "I'm a complete moron! I'm an idiot! I am the epitome of stupidity! It took me forever to realize it, but now I see it, and I'll be damned if I let you walk away. Because it took me all that time to realize it, but I love you. I love you so much. It's always been you."

83. "Are you drinking my cocoa?"

84. "Please, just… hold me. Please, hold me close."

85. "I'm cold."

"I'll keep you warm."

"Nice try!"

86. "It hasn't stopped snowing. We're stuck. We're gonna die."

87. "I AM NOT DYING HERE! IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE! WITH YOU!"

"I know that the important information here is that we're gonna die, but I'm very upset that you don't want to do it specifically with me. Why not? I'm a dream!"

88. "Can I try some of your food?"

89. "I should have told you long ago."

"Tell me what?"

"That I love you."

90. "I am not going through a thirty-hours drive with you. There is absolutely no way."

91. "I used to hate you. Then, I simply disliked you. Now, I hate you all over again."

"Well, the feeling is mutual. But maybe it'll change."

92. "I really like you."

"I love you."

93. "Well, if you really were that clever, then you would know that I love you!"

94. "You have fever, you need to drink this. Come on, now."

95. "I just… I feel like I'm truly myself when I'm with you. I want to be myself when I'm with you. So now, if you're scared, don't call it love yet. But whatever you want to call it, it's incredible, and I'm not going to give up on this. I'm not going to give up on us."

96. "You're my home."

97. "Why is summer so hot?! I'm melting!"

98. "Have you ever felt like… memories get attached to a word and they almost change their meanings? Like… whenever someone says 'apple' I think of my grandma's pies, to the point that I almost forget that they're talking about the fruit. Well… your name… it's the same for love. When I think of love, I think of you."

99. "What wish did you make?”

“To spend the rest of my life with you.”

100. "If you only let me spend the rest of my life with you, I'd be happy with that. I don't ask for anything else, really. My life is complete as long as you're in it."

#event #4700 followers #writing prompts #prompts

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jq37 · 4 years

Text

The Royal Report– A Crown of Candy Ep 7 Escape From the Bulb Creeps

Journey to the Past

We are fresh on the heels of the deaths of both Lapin and Peppermint Preston (Reeces in Pieces) but there’s no time to mourn because the remaining 5 PCs (Zac is absent all episode) are all fugitives of both church and state. With everyone stunned and out of sorts, Jet takes the lead and begins running towards the alleyway she banished Thad to several episodes ago on a goof turned escape plan. And none of the adults have a better plan so they follow her without argument or question. Ruby sends Yak up to help scout and, as they’re running, each of the group have flashbacks to simpler times:

Ruby: Ruby sees herself practicing acrobatics on the castle walls having just seen the Swirler Sisters perform. Her mom makes her come down and scolds her for not taking her princess duties seriously. Royal life is hard enough without her making it harder with her flights of fancy and she should be training to be ready for it.

Amethar: Amethar sees himself at the Stone Candy Mountain mid-war with his four sisters who have just got the news that he married Katherine Ghee--his dairy wife we learned about 2 eps ago. His oldest sister--General Rococoa--is livid about the shortsightedness and political implications of him marrying a commoner. St. Citrina, the third sister, comforts Amethar and says that if he really loves her, the marriage should stand. The youngest sister, Princess Sapphria, is chill about the whole thing and thinks (1) it won’t matter since he’s so far down in the line of succession and (2) he should have a good time if he wants to. Something ~crazy~ would have to happen for Amethar to ever get the throne so it would be *stupid* to waste time worrying about. (Thousand yard stare.) Lazuli shows up and is very fuzzy on where in the timeline they are--showing her background as a divination wizard--before congratulating Amethar on his marriage. Rococoa wants the marriage annulled and Citrina says that, for that to happen, Amethar and Katherine would need to be in the same place with the priest who performed the ceremony--Father Belford. They can take care of it after the war if Amethar wants. In the meantime, they tell their dad *nothing*.

Liam: It’s Liam’s 14th b-day and he’s still living with his dad (Joren Jawbreaker) and his mom (Spearia Mentha--a cool Vegetanian hippie woman) and his 35 other moms and dads (polygamy is big in the Sweetening Path apparently). His dad shows up and has trouble remembering his name but does present him Preston as a pet which he’s pretty stoked about. Afterwards, he meets up with his mom who says that his entire extended family talked about his going to Castle Candy as a ward/political prisoner and have decided that he can, but that he should be careful. The outside world isn’t as accepting of other spirits and ideas. Back in the present, Liam feels something dark inside him grow with the loss of Preston. Ice creeps up on his crossbow and his magic changes (mechanically speaking, he has gone from a Beastmaster to a Gloomstalker Ranger).

Theo: It’s Theo’s first day on the job as Lazuli’s ward and, after getting some business done (including a short conversation with a cotton candy monk who seemed suspiciously fleshed out to just be a random NPC) she turns to him and asks his opinion on non-sanctioned magic. Theo (who insists on addressing her by all of her titles) says that magic has never been his thing. He doesn’t have the mind for it. Lazuli takes issue with that assertion and Theo is forced to consider that he might be limiting himself for no reason. Lazuli says that she’s realizing that magic is a lot bigger and unknowable than conventional wisdom suggests and then Theo runs off to fetch her more parchment.

Jet: Jet is 14 and practicing fencing with Calroy. He gets the point with a fencing dagger (which is apparently a thing, confirmed by my one friend who fences) before they ease into a conversation about politics. Calroy asks her if she sees herself challenging convention and we all know Who Jet Is As a Person so her answer (big yes) isn’t surprising. What’s slightly more surprising is that Calroy candidly agrees with her that change is good and needed. A lot of people would love change but most of them aren’t situated in such a way that they have the power to bring about any. Calroy says he looks forward to her reign and they continue sparring.

Back to Reality

In the present, church bells toll behind them and Ruby feels a piece of paper fly out from her pocket--it’s the “For Candia” note from Lapin. She grabs it with her Mage Hand and just feels like the worst person on the planet for being mean to Lapin all these years and then watching him give his life for them. He presented as boring and lame but he was a good man.

They all reach the delirious Thad (he’s been in this alley since episode 3) who Jet flirts with to try and get his carriage but Liam circumvents that by getting a Nat 20 to fully knock the dude out. The servants with him flip out but Jet threatens them into running away and, before they can get very far, Ruby casts Sleep on them which drops them. Then, she casts Disguise Self and Prestidigitation so she looks and smells like Thad (we’re also blessed by Siobhan’s ridiculous French accent) and goes out to Thad’s carriage with Jet on her arm, lying to the servants there that Jet has been knocked up and they have to have a shotgun wedding. Her deception check succeeds and the footman declares, “To the cathedral!” NO. Beach wedding! It’s a beach wedding! They all pile into the back of the carriage--Ruby up front since she’s pretending to be Thad--and head out.

While they ride, Liam unsuccessfully tries to cry quietly and Theo eulogizes Lapin and says that what happened to him was no one’s fault. Jet asks Amethar if he had a death wish back in the Cathedral and Amethar, not in so many words, admits that he did. Yak comes back down from scouting and relays that the Glucian Road (the way back to Candia that they came) is about to be absolutely crawling with imperial soldiers. And cutting through Fructerra to the north (the shortest route) is also bad because that’s Plumbeline’s territory and she’s already proven herself untrustworthy. That leaves the “safest” options Brightgarden (basically the Vatican City of this world so not really a place they wanna be right now) and towards the Harbor.

Everyone takes another minute to have a full breakdown--especially Liam who is coming to terms with the fact that he’s gonna have to be a war guy now--and Brennan rolls death saves for Thad (he lives) before they get back to business. If they want to go to the Great Stone Candy Mountain (Where Joren Jawbreaker is), going by sea is faster. Ruby points out that they’ll have to go into the territory of Cordeau (aka, Lord Bleu--the suspicious cheese dude Primsy is lowkey courting) if they go by sea but Theo points out that they’re F’d no matter where they go so they lock in the plan.

A Fun Boat Ride

Once they get to the docks, Brennan points out that none of them have sailing proficiency (Emily: I have tarot cards) so if they just grab a ship with no crew, they’re for sure gonna die. They’d previously asked Calroy to ready a ship for them but they have no idea if that happened and they don’t have a way to ask him. The only ship they recognize in the harbor is The Colby--Annabelle’s ship. And, what do you know? She’s on the ship at that very moment, officiating a wedding for Primsy and Lord Bleu. The dude works fast.

Theo sees that they’re casting off soon and also that Morris Brie is walking around all agitated and worried--looking for Manta Ray Jack they guess. Liam casts Pass Without Trace and Amethar gets a Nat 20 to open one of the cargo crates they’re going to load onto the ship so they can hide inside (leaving Yak and Sprinkle outside to be their eyes). While they’re in there, they hear Primsy and Bleu talking and learn that he’s gonna be following behind in his own ship (since he’s captain) and they’ll meet back in Lacramor. We also learn later that his ship is called the Dairy Heir because Brennan was put on this earth to test me.

Ruby hears that Morris Brie is still walking around all worried and decides to Message him in Lacra. “Manta Ray is Captured. The House of Rocks has Fallen. All is Lost. Help.” She calls herself a friend and, on a 20 Persuasion, Brie thinks she’s a spirit. She tells him where Jack is and calls him a good man when he agrees to check.

Brennan rolls for an unspecified thing in front of the board--saying they need an 11 or higher and want a 15--and gets a 12.

The ship is held for a while, long enough that they’re loaded into the cargo hold, and Brennan narrates everything that happens from the eyes of Yak and Sprinkle (bending the rules a bit so everyone gets the benefit of knowing how Ruby’s clutch move played out):

Annabelle is agitated, waiting for Brie and Manta Ray so they can ship off. A messenger comes to her with the information that the Emperor is dead, Candia is at war with the Concord, and Amethar has been excommunicated. Primsy, who is technically in charge, reacts exactly how any sane 16 y/o would--she has absolutely no idea what to do. Another messenger shows up with a bloody letter (and, sidenote, I need Brennan to stop cursing us with detailed info on how various food people bleed. It’s extremely unsettling) from Brie which she reads and before deciding to ship off immediately.

The Candians decide to stay hidden for an hour which is good because 30 mins later, the ship is stopped and boarded by imperials (lead by Grissini). They check the barrels but not the crates because no one would be able to open them. Well, no one except Amethar on a Nat 20. They’re not found and the imperials leave.

After the hour is up, Ruby can see through Yak that there aren’t any ships except for the dairy ones escorting Primsy back home and there are only about 12 people on the Colby. There’s a long discussion about the best strategy--Should they go up or call someone down? Should they talk to Primsy or Annabelle? Should Jet volunteer as a hostage?--before Ruby makes an executive decision and decides to Message Primsy.

“Primsy, I invoke the friendship of House Rocks and House Lacra.”

On a 20 persuasion check, Primsy, like Brie, thinks she’s a fairy or a spirit, which she is childishly excited about. Ruby says that if she comes to the hold, she’ll show her a secret and Primsy, who has apparently never seen a horror movie before in her life, comes right down. To her credit, she does ask if she can bring Annabelle, but Ruby says no. But that doesn’t deter her. Once she’s down there, Theo, who also has the Message cantrip, says, “Don’t scream, no matter what you see,” which is absolutely the worst thing he could have said and, on a 3 Persuasion--plus Amethar bursting out of the crate to try to show her she’s among friends, Primsy has the correct reaction which is to scream bloody murder, calling down basically everyone, including Annabelle.

Everyone throws down their weapons (Jet just stows hers in her back pockets) and Liam tries to hide but gets a Nat 1. Annabelle is, of course, furious that they’d stow away while fugitives, endangering them all but Ruby is able to slightly charm her (non-magically) and she reveals that the letter she received before says that Brie rescued Manta Ray and they’re hiding in Comida. Ruby is relieved her plan worked and, when Annabelle scoffs at her for taking credit for the work of the spirits, hits her with a Message to prove her abilities. Annabelle seems taken aback that, even while wanted fugitives of basically the entire world, Ruby would take any of her precious time to help Manta Ray. “[He’s] a good man,” Ruby responds, as if the decision took no thought at all. Primsy comforts Liam as he breaks down over the loss of Lapin and Preston again.

Brennan has everyone do a group persuasion check where only one of them cracks a 15. Annabelle and Co. are really in a terrible position here. These are their allies but they’re also being hunted right now and the Dairy Islands really cannot afford to be at war with the Concord. Helping them would be tantamount to a declaration of war. “Please don’t make us make you,” Ruby says. Annabelle scoffs that even if they kill her, either her crew would kill them or they’d kill the crew then die at sea. Ruby apologizes for the empty threat and says she’s just scared.

Annabelle decides that they can’t help them but they also don’t have to fight them. They’ll take them to Lacramor as prisoners and then assemble a council to figure out what to do with them. In the meantime, they’ll be clothed and fed and brought to a room without chains. The Candians, who don’t really have a ton of options here, agree.

Sacre Bleu

Soon after they’re situated (they get a short rest here), Primsy invites them to the Captain’s Quarters (which she shares with Annabelle) for tea. She doesn’t allow herself to say anything that would jeopardize her country’s position, but she seems very much on their side and confident this will be sorted out once they land and the council discusses it. She’s also excited for them to meet Lord Bleu, which they’re...less enthused about.

Ruby tries to get it into her head that she’s a strong, independent woman who doesn’t have to just do whatever he says--or even what Annabelle says--but it seems that Bleu has gotten to her first because Primsy says that he tells her that too and that he’s right about everything. Theo asks if he has any enemies in his house and she says no, confused about why he would ask. Jet decides to fully let the cat out of the bag and says that someone from Bleu’s house attacked them. Primsy, with shockingly little genre savviness, says that there have been a lot of deaths in Bleu’s family to get him to the place in the line of succession that he is and that they did get a letter from Plumbeline saying that Amethar would probably be named successor but if not him then it would probably be her. And if anything happens to her, guess who’s suddenly in charge? None other than Lord Consort Cheddar, aka Bleu. Theo tries to tell Primsy to watch her back but, on a 2 Charisma check, he just pisses off yet another House Cheddar lady and Primsy leaves for the Crow’s Nest to catch a glimpse of her new husband on his ship. On a Nat 20, Jet stealths behind her to protect her.

Liam goes to find Annabelle to try and convince her to drop them off at the Candy Mountain instead of Lacramor. He starts well with a compliment (“Your haircut looks fresh”) before trying to pimp out his harem of parents in exchange for the ride and rolling a 4 Persuasion. Liam submits to the slap he knows is coming--but it misses due to Ruby’s Hex giving her disadvantage and making her take her Nat 1 instead of her Nat 20. As she stumbles forward, she notices something in the distance and walks off to check on it, Liam following behind her.

Brennan has Murph make three mystery luck checks in the box of doom because he is the enemy and Murph rolls a 7, 16, and a 14. For Murph, pretty good!

They’re just about at the Yogurt Shoals (Bleu territory, you’ll remember) and they notice that all the other ships except for the two house Bleu ones have veered off in another direction.

It starts to rain milk (Brennan seems to indicate that’s what the 7 roll was) and Annabelle yells at Primsy to come down from the crow’s nest. Primsy notices that the other ships are gone right as arrows start to fire from the Bleu ships to hers. Jet, at once, shields Primsy from the barrage.

Annabelle tries to get them out of there in a hurry but finds the sails are damaged and the House Bleu ships sidle up along the Colby and pull a Ben-Hur, tearing up the sides of the ship until it begins to sink. Everyone roll initiative!

Also, it’s Zac’s Birthday.

Happy Birthday Zac.

Medal of Honor

Gotta give out our first double medal of honor this episode, fittingly, to the twins who were on fire this whole episode.

At the top of the episode when no one else knew what to do, Jet took the reins and picked a plan and everyone else was swayed by her force of will and didn’t even ask any questions. And then later, when Theo fumbled his diplomacy, she again acted on impulse and put herself in the perfect position to protect Primsy.

And then Ruby--in the talkback, they said they were talking about “Ruby’s Big Day” which was great because so was I in my head. Taking her magic--the very thing that put her in so much danger--and turning it to their greatest asset with the clutch disguise and then using the hell out of the Message Cantrip? Lapin has been dead for less than a day and she’ll already taken the position of party Face.

Very Galaxy Brained moves from our girls this ep.

Sunny Side Up

The immediacy of the “Do you think she’s gonna get off?” response from Ally was like they’d been waiting their entire life to make that specific joke.

Also on the topic of Ally just literally saying anything, watching everyone break as Liam described the game “Stairs” was an experience. And Brennan having to react to that as a parent and acknowledge it was full abuse gave me shades of Kristen talking about all the cult literature in her family’s house that Brennan was hearing about for the first time in that moment.

The whole sequence in the alley with Thad was such a perfect moment of catharsis after the heaviness of everything else. That, “Point with my hand or?” Siobhan’s French accent. Liam hitting a Nat 20 to knock Thad TF out. Everyone coming up with plans on the spot on top of each other and the big, “NO!” after Brennan’s, “To the cathedral!” The rubberband needed to snap back to comedy for a bit after last week and all those flashbacks and they did it perfectly here.

Jet already having a “Bastard Jet” tattoo and Murph improvising that she made him do it with a cantrip.

“Advantage for boldness and disadvantage for madness.”

Things I’m Concerned About

Short list this week because the answer is basically “everything”.

Brennan. Brennan, if anything happens to Primsy...I know that this is all pre-recorded and whatever happened already happened but if Primsy is hurt in any way...Brennan…

Very interesting that the Pontifex OK’d the wedding of Primsy and Bleu basically immediately while all manner of insanity was going on but couldn’t find the time to get the emperor paperwork filled out. And by interesting I mean she’s a snake.

A big ocean battle after only a short rest? With no healer? Don’t care for that one bit.

I would not want to be Katherine Ghee right now. Idk what she’s doing but if she’s alive and well, I have to assume her life is about to be filled with BS.

Liam’s rage (which he talked to Amethar about) seems like the kind of thing that becomes a problem either for poor decision making reasons or literal communing with evil spirits reasons. So I’m for sure monitoring that situation, just in case.

Understandably, the gang wasn’t able to go for their allies this episode, but that puts them in a BAD position to put it mildly. If Calroy did ready that ship, it’s possible that at least some of the rest of the Candians will be able to get out once they hear the news. Fingers crossed for those guys but it would be a fittingly brutal story move if all the fun, tutorial level NPCs just get executed now that we’ve left the starting area (which already was pretty brutal to be sure).

Five More Things

It took me saying the episode title out loud while writing this recap to understand that it was a Bloodkeep reference. I was like, what a weird thing to call an ep. It doesn’t fit the titling conventions for this show at all.

Loved getting to see Amethar with all his sisters, even with the ouchiness of knowing how that all panned out. I especially liked Citrina as a foil for the Pontifex. If the Bulb is nothing but raw power divorced from morality then it’s nice to see someone who has a connection to that power using it in the name of love.

Theo continuing to use everyone's titles even after all that happened is so true to character. Also: “Call me Bastard Jet.”/”As you wish, your highness.”

Zac’s character didn’t show up this ep so I’m very curious when it’s gonna happen. It could happen in the battle ep--some rando helping you mid life or death battle would give very wary people a reason to trust a stranger--but it seems more plausible it would happen next story ep. I wonder if that cotton candy monk mentioned is gonna be his next character. I wonder if it’s gonna be a candy person at all.

Listening to Ruby and Theo talk about how mean they were to Lapin and how guilty they felt about it was A Lot. Like, we only had him for 6 episodes but they have an entire lifetime of history with the dude and Murph and Siobhan really made that hit home in their tiny moments. It was A Lot.

Also! This has nothing to do with Crown of Candy and it’s circulated a bunch already, deservedly so, but I wanna shout out this hilarious Fantasy High animatic by @morikorii. Super happy we’re starting to get kickass animatics for D20 stuff from crazy talented artists.

#dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #a crown of candy #a crown of candy spoilers #the royal report

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fizzingwizard · 3 years

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;______; just heard that from September we’re gonna have three students in our cluster who are under 1 year old... (5 in the school total)

aaahhh im exhausted just thinking about it

and whats crazy is in one of the classes with under 1 yos there is a kid who is between 1-2 yo and she cannot walk yet. We have been trying to help her learn and have begun wondering if there is some reason beyond her mother just didn’t really encourage her to walk before. (Like maybe she needs leg braces etc.) So far no news on that but this kid only drags her feet around, obviously she needs constant help, and there are 12 other kids in the class, two of whom are under 1 and three teachers, HOW are they supposed to do it???

and the class that will have three under 1s has two first year teachers in it, that makes me so nervous... They’re both awesome coworkers, this is no shade on them, but under 1s can be TOUGH, it’s SO easy for them to get hurt. idk it feels like an accident waiting to happen.

i’ve been at schools where 5 students was an entire class, if we’re gonna have this many under 1s we should just have a class for them, come on! I love them but they are twice the work of kids on year older than them.

Also the recommended teacher-student ration for 1-3 yos is 1:6, which we abide by, but I believe it’s actually 1:3 or 1:4 when the kids are belong 18/12 mos. Apparently the head office does not care.

These kids are not in my class, I currently teach 2-3s, however I am a long care teacher and I look after them during morning and after care. I do their nap and their snack and play time supervision etc. From 10-2 they’re part of their class, but the rest of the day they belong to all of us.

More work ranting under the cut because I guess I just need to vent to the air.

And we have a LOT of students now - two clusters of going on 30 in each, in very small classrooms where the teachers are expected to watch them like a hawk AND keep constantly busy with numerous tasks at the same time.

Plus our prep time has been cut down this year despite additional work getting put on us, and we have no extra help.

If one teacher is out sick, no one gets prep time.

Don’t remember if I whined about this before, but a month or so ago we had a meeting in which the leader said “If you find you don’t have enough prep time, that’s on you to manage your time better.” It was super condescending and annoying. I’m like, dude, my contract says I get 1 hour prep and 1 hour break. We never ever EVER get the full two hours (and I should mention this is never consecutive, it’s 15 min here, 30 min there, 1 full hour if you’re really lucky). It’s usually at most 1 hr 45. But a 30 min break is fine! I’d love to take a 30 min break. Almost never do. Way too busy.

Like, I won’t get into it, but the laundry list of Stuff To Do recently has been ENORMOUS. In my class, I have 19 students. One of my co-teachers is part time, meaning she’s not around to help during much of prep time, and the other is a leader meaning she’s constantly in meetings or doing leader assignments. They are both fantastic co-workers, but yeah, this means I do ALL the class stuff. I prepare all the crafts, I do a ton of the organizing, and I’m often the only teacher from my class available in the afternoons because part-time teacher went home and leader teacher is in a meeting. So I end up with a lot of the after care stuff.

We have to hand out these big projects that teachers are responsible for preparing for each student on 8/16. We know these are coming and prep for them as soon as possible, but like, I won’t get into this either lol, but it’s so hard. It’s time-consuming by itself, and made worse because all the school computers are crap (like takes-15-min-to-start, another 10 to open the browser, 5 to go to the website, then it freezes, then 5 more, another freeze, etc) and like you have 15 min break time hahahahaha.

I wanted to get such a head start that I just started doing what I could back in the beginning of the year but we lit can’t do the bulk of the work until a certain kind of envelope is delivered and that doesn’t come till summer for some stupid reason. Soooo our long prep days in April when there are no kids around... can we use those to prep for this project? Heck no!

Anyway. This year’s is due on 8/16. This coming week we are off for obon break. This year also, the company is doing the project slightly differently. Instead of staggering what class gives out their projects to their students when, we all have to do it at once. We are our company’s biggest school, sooo my honest thought is no one at the head office thought about us when they made this change. The other schools don’t have to stagger anyway, they have at most two classes. We have four.

So this means everyone is printing their projects at the same time. For one student, you need 10 sheets on A3 paper. For my class of 19, that is 190 sheets of paper. For four classes, we’re over 700 sheets total. THAT IS A LOT OF PAPER.

So I get to work this morning and boss says “Yeah so we’re out of A3 paper.”

!!!

IT’S DUE MONDAY.

There was a little bit left so I just charged and printed as much of my stuff as I could in the morning before anyone else could. Then, miraculously, another packet of A3 paper appeared out of nowhere, and we were able to print most of the rest of our students’ projects. (My coworker who is a leader has not printed hers yet because she is super busy and isn’t finished. Again, she’s an awesome coworker, I wish I could have helped her more, but uh, I’m also swamped and not taking breaks, so. Hopefully she can do it before we really do run out of A3 paper.)

Getting more paper is no big deal, it’s just that no one has the time, and this is due Monday.

So I was super stressed. Sooooo super stressed for such a dumbbbb reason. And I don’t understand why these projects have to go out on Monday anyway. Some kids don’t even come to school on Mondays. Like. Just make sure they get them next week, isn’t that good enough?? Why make us stress and panic.

Everyone else seemed fine though, I was the only one tearing my hair out because I’m the type who finishes everything a day early so I have a day to check it over... I am not spontaneous and I hate to rush...

I lit told my coworkers, because regardless of the paper situation we are still behind because we have not had any time to organize the projects, that I will just stay late tomorrow to do it. It’s the Friday before a break so I don’t mind too much. I am really tired tho and would of course rather just go home and sleep but. I’ve done this before. Finishing up this project will take 1.5 hours - 2 hours at the current state it’s in, IF I can just sit down and do it uninterrupted. (Have I mentioned these projects are HEAVY?? And there’s 19 of them?? It’s a big job just to take them out and start putting them together >.<)

So tomorrow evening that is what I will likely be doing -.-;

There are INNUMERABLE other STUPID parts of this project - the idea behind it is great, but the way we are required to make it is absolutely bonkers and desperately needs a revamp but does anyone listen to a preschool teacher? heck no lol

uggh.

I feel better after venting tho.

I like my job, I just wish humans in general gave a shit, not even about quality of life (since obvs that’s expecting too much lol, also as a person with privilege I’m aware I’ve already got it pretty darn good), but just about not making jobs that are ridiculous. Just plan them out better, sheesh. There’s no reason for all this running around. The projects don’t need to be printed. Or they don’t need to be so huge. They don’t need all this fuss and nonsense. They are a good idea, but we could do them in a way that would be sooo much less stressful.

(The funniest part of all being, it’s a project for the parents mainly, and the parents... don’t like it x’D No they really don’t. They are happy to have the project, but first they’ve got to get it home, and it is HUGE and HEAVY and UNWIELDY lmao. And some of them are carrying twin 2 year olds and both of their futons home as well, and we’re like “here you go, two giant projects for you to take home!” And the parents are like “thanks????”)

#fizz's life #work

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thejudgingtrash · 5 years

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Now hold up I would personally love to hear a full rant on this supposed adaptation I have never heard of until now. Like, legitimately, I wanna know what you have to say about this cause you seem to be one of the most valid PJO blogs

Uhhh what??? Me one of the most valid PJO blogs??? What kinda crack have you been smoking WHAT afahsgjskdh.

But still thank you 😊🥺🙈

Alright, you wanted a rant. You got a rant. Fuck the positives let’s just straight up jump into my aggression.

WARNING: Massive rant with a lot of swear words. If you can’t handle the heat, feel free to ignore this. I personally haven’t worked in Hollyweird, but I had some behind the scenes stuff here in Europe going on for a short period and also the trusty words of my college professors. So here will be a lot of prediction and speculation involved. Yes, I know that I’m a huge hypocrite for voicing my opinions based on stuff that hasn’t been pushed through in months and that I could be easily proven wrong in a few weeks/months. Still thank you should you actually take the time to read through this tomfuckery.

If things are wrong, please DO correct me!

Links to further reads will be included partially.

TL;DR: Keep your hopes to a low, stop harassing people online and mAnAgE yOuR eXpEcTaTiOnS!!111!!

Okay. First things first:

DISNEY

DOESN’T

GIVE

SINGLE

FUCK

ABOUT

YOU

Disney is a fucking multi-billion dollar corporation with many, many, many studios, stations, brands and franchises worldwide. The Percy Jackson franchise is a dime in a dozen. Disney doesn’t give a single fuck about the PJO fandom in general.

Disney doesn’t give a fuck about you 20-something year old with your 9 year old blog discussing which toilet paper brand Percy uses. And Disney also doesn’t give a fuck about you 16 year old, writing the worst fucking Solangelo fanfic I’ve read so far on this hellsite. Like goddamn.

Trust me, they know you are interested. They know they got you hooked. They see the numbers, they see the like/reblog ratio, they see the Twitter engagement. They see you with #disneyadaptpercyjackson. They see the petitions, they see how excited you were for the musical. You don’t get to be a gigantic conglomerate like Disney with playing stupid.

Also to you fuckfarts saying oH nO I wOn’T wAtCh It I dOn’T cArE aBoUt NeW sTuFf. Congrats dipshit. You are STILL alerting followers and people about what’s happening and creating more buzz, giving more awareness and adding to the transaction costs. You really cheated the system, you little edgelord. Again:

You are nothing but a number. You are a fucking walking dollar bill. You are a consumer waiting for a new shiny product to fill the void in your life for 45 minutes weekly or by two hours at some point.

The PJO movies 1. & 2 happened for a reason. Because Fox saw a popular book series á la Harry Potter, Twilight (and The Hunger Games) and wanted a piece of that action. They wanted your fucking money. Them entirely fucking up and ignoring Riordan’s advice is on them of course. But still. The movies happened. (And also saw people saying they were flops. Reception wise: hell yes. They are awful adaptations (not per se awful movies, there’s a difference). But money wise?? They made together over 245 million dollars in profit. Of course, that isn’t today’s Marvel level but it’s still fairly decent. Also don’t forget that the second movie still got greenlit. Interest was still there despite part one. You disliking something doesn’t turn it into a flop)).

Again, Disney doesn’t care about you. THIS is what Disney cares about:

1. MONEY

2. PROFIT

3. ENGAGEMENT

4. TOTAL GROSS

5. CONVERSION RATES

11. …. “Artistry“

So in terms of money, we gotta speak about the on-going woke culture. You know, lgbtqia+ stuff, poc representation and all the good shit we want and need in our life, right?

Well, I got bad news for ya. Disney being money hungry has its massive downsides. Because where is the money? In the east. Well and what happens if we include the woke stuff? Possible censorships (even retroactively! You know Gravity Falls went through that), bans, etc.

So all of you talking about representation and artistic vision and being bold and brave and blablabla… Throw that into the fucking trash. We can probably be glad if we get Grover back as the token black kid and a few other minorities sprinkled here and there. Open gay Nico? Doubt it. Your afro-latino Percy head canon? Definitely keep that but unlikely to be realized. And also, if you think that Annabeth wouldn’t get turned into the blandest whitest “I dOn’T nEeD nO mAn“ radfem, I got some bad news for ya…

The likelihood of everything being dumbed down, toned down with the exception of a few adult jokes or being even partially censored (depending on certain regions) is very, very high.

Also what makes you think we’re even getting close to the Heroes of Olympus and Trials of Apollo saga? I doubt you will see The Seven for a long time unless Riordan really says fuck it and throws his final ace card into Disney’s filthy greedy mouth.

So if Disney doesn’t have the fandom’s interest at heart, what are they interested in? Well… MONEY. Also NEW engagement. They know your funky ass is going to tune in. They know people will pirate the shit (Me waving like a maniac), they all KNOW that. Again, they aren’t stupid.

So: MORE engagement. MORE money. How do we get even more engagement? By luring new people into the fandom. Who is most likely going to get lured into a family friendly show/movie series because let’s not forget that we’re talking about Disney+? The targeted audience of the books. Who is the targeted audience of the books? MIDDLE SCHOOLERS. 11 to 14 year olds. Disney wants those kids’ (well their parents’ hard earned) money. They want to sell products, in that case books + Disney Plus subscriptions + possible merch. There you also have the likely future rating for the fucking show. Sorry to disappoint everyone that was hoping for gritty Game of Thrones filled with 12 year olds (like seriously wtf?).

Now that that’s settled, let’s talk about the outlook on the show/movie and Riordan’s influence that you people clearly overestimate.

How much power or say does Rick Riordan actually have?

ZERO. ABSOLUTELY NONE.

He’s in the worst fucking lose-lose-situation you could imagine.

Disney owns the books and Fox owns the movie rights. Wait. Fox got bought. By whom you ask? DISNEY, what a coincidence! In Rick Riordan’s own words:

Disney has him by his fucking balls and could crush them at any minute. And if you think, that Disney is letting go of that sweet sweet intellectual property you are fucking mistaken. Riordan isn’t a J.K. Rowling who OWNS the Wizarding World. You have no idea what Disney are capable of with massive lobbying that goes so far to influence copyright laws in the States (LINK)

So you can stop harassing him about a fucking Netflix adaptation as well! Or petitions that do nothing but annoy people.

These negotiations take up YEARS to get the simplest stuff done. No need to shit your pants whenever Riordan’s tweeting stuff.

Still: would Disney be fucking mad to do this without him? Absolutely!

Should Disney involve him to prevent a PJO movie 2.0 scenario?

Yes, they definitely should!

But CAN Disney do this without him?

OF COURSE THEY CAN! THEY OWN EVERYTHING.

In Riordan’s own words:

Read carefully what he has written. He doesn’t say he’s going to halter productions, he’s saying HE WON’T BE A PART OF IT. This also makes me curious about WHO approached WHO in the first place (my guess Disney tried to make some amendments because Fox ain’t shit and trying to alienate the author again would be a goddamn stupid move). Disney has the fucking film rights. Of course they can pump out shit without involving him. They could pull a Fantastic Four (the awful 2015 version) just to keep the rights and for the fuck of it.

There are the following possibilities with Riordan’s involvement:

1. Riordan as a producer: Dude’s gotta be loaded. We know that. But backing the production costs many, many, many millions and I don’t know if he’s THAT loaded. Also film producing isn’t his forte.

2. Riordan as a screenplay writer: Now we’re getting closer to something. Yes, many productions these days have authors directly involved which is great! But also can go the other way around (J.K. Rowling and her Grindelwald fiasco. Author’s do NEED to learn when to stop intermeddling with their franchises, just saying) Book writing and screenplay writing are two very DIFFERENT disciplines. You don’t have the liberties of book writing when it comes to film. The screenplay is the guide for the entire production, the visuals, the set design, the whole atmosphere of the product, the very first thing that needs to be done so that directors, designers and lastly the casted actors know what they have to do. Everything has to come to a point in a very short time and there are many, many, many versions of a screenplay before a final raw draft gets handed out. If that isn’t in Riordan’s interest (which I can completely understand) then that’s simply not happening

3. Riordan as a guide: Directors, screenplay writers, etc. sit down with Riordan on a regular basis to show him the written screenplay, which actors they have in mind, the whole vision and he has a mini veto right.

If you ask me, a mix of scenario 2 and 3 is the most likely to be the most successful. That means, that Riordan needs to have a good faithful team, that sticks closely to the source material. That isn’t guaranteed! Again: look at the PJO movies. But of course, we don’t know the internals of these meetings.

So… now the final part. The whole fucking “Animation vs. Live action“ debate. Well, both sides have their pro’s and con’s. And both sides are filled with a bunch of fucking morons. I won’t try to get you to either side.

But to those that want are begging for a live action version with age-appropriate actors I have the following to say:

FUCK

YOU

PARTICULAR!

WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU WANT CHILDREN TO GO THROUGH THE HELL THAT IS DISNEY AND THE SHADY SHIT GOING ON THERE SO THAT YOU CAN BE ENTERTAINED FOR SOME MERE MINUTES?!

Oh my god…. You people REALLY really want a fourth wave Me Too movement in 15-20 years. Not every Hollyweird kid has a helicopter parent hovering around them on set and many do get abused/robbed by their parents. And the people involved in the production! Of course, animation has still a chance of this happening but the risk is somewhat lower when it just comes to voice acting.

Tbh, I actually wouldn’t mind an aged-up cast again just to prevent this as best as possible. Unfortunately, child actors will always be needed.

I have nothing much to add to this, I’ll just drop a link to an old small post from me about that right here (LINK)

Personally I lean more towards animation but in the big picture I won’t care. (Also the whole animation is for kids and dumbs down the whole narrative for PJO is fucking stupid, boo boo the fool. You being in your late teens/twenties and grown out of the targeted audience is the cause of nature. Animation can be mature or would you show Attack on Titan or South Park to your 8 year old cousin?)

I’ll be just tuning in to see if this is as messy as I’d expect it to be or to be pleasantly surprised.

Also again: this process is a long one. It’s going to be exhausting, depressing, demanding, pushing.

From the meetings now that will take a very long time, to a screenplay, which can take YEARS in finalizing, to hiring staff, location hunting and set design (should they go the live action route), to casting, to costume design, to rehearsing/production, to filming, to dispersing, to editing, to fx, to finishing, to marketing, to publishing, NOTHING IS SET IN STONE! This is a very, very, very, wanky process despite contracts and everything on paper. Let’s not forget, Disney can afford some good lawyers.

And even if everything goes as smoothly as possible. Higher up people could see the final edit of everything with editors having scenes close to the books in an a/b/c/d cut and some producer says NO! I want an c/a/b/d version that again fucks up the dynamics of the books. Or something terrible: everything is shot and done and THEN it get’s postponed. Or even fucking worse: SHELVED to be NEVER RELEASED. Aka Henry Selick’s career after Coraline (Coraline from 2009 is STILL his latest release because of his fucked up Disney contract and them cancelling his shit). Millions of dollars wasted and we won’t get to see ANYTHING. This is all very possible and happens constantly in the film business AND at Disney. This is nothing new.

And there’s nothing we can do about it. No one cares about Riordan, no one cares about the books, no one cares about the fandom.

DISNEY holds the cards. DISNEY gets to decide. Neither Riordan, nor you nor me hold ANY power in this.

So kids… what have we learned today? In conclusion:

Keep your hopes to a low, stop harassing people online and mAnAgE yOuR eXpEcTaTiOnS!!111!!

That’s it. That’s all I wanted to say.

WHEW.

#percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #percy jackson movie #percy jackson #percy jackson adaptation #disney #disney adapt percy jackson #annabeth chase #grover underwood #nico di angelo #rick riordan #riordanverse #my rants

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thebookofus-depravity · 4 years

Text

Skinny Bone Jones

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 coming soon!

9k words

This is my baby Park Jaehyung and an AU in which y’all are dealing with the coronavirus together in LA. Jae grew up with Y/N and you were childhood friends. You stayed close but haven’t seen each other in ages. Now you’re both back.

Teeth rotting fluff, possible smut in future chapters (lets see if I have the balls to post it), Y/N has a strong proclivity for a certain guitarists hands. And honestly, who can blame her? TW: Confrontation with a nasty old ex, Coronavirus, Quarantine, overbearing parents.

...

This fucking sucks.

Closing your laptop, and shoving it off of your lap to the side of your bed, you are struck by exactly how warm the underside of your Netflix Machine was in contrast to the chilly room. Well, 3 hours of To Catch a Predator in, and sure, your old 2011 Dell dinosaur is going to be a little mad at you. I've got to do something today. Anything.

Week 3 of your quarantine is coming to a close and on this breezy LA Thurs-Fri-Turday (who the hell knows anymore) you can feel the last tendrils of your sanity escaping with the setting sun. It just doesn't stop setting. And rising. And setting. And rising. Tortuously slow some days and before you can even get out of bed the next. Not that you get out of bed much.

Alright. That's it. I'm gonna do something. I have to. It's time to make some art, bake some cookies, go for a run, tell someone around me how much I value them, topple the patriarchy. I am going to get up and do something with my life and damned if I get in my own way again. I am unstoppable. I am formidable. I am inevitable.

Rising from your rumpled bed clothes with the steadfastness of a slightly anemic Viking (whoa I’m woozy, I shouldn't have stood up so fast. Shit, when's the last time I ate?) you cross to the large bay window that faces the street. You throw your curtains open, ready to face the day, only to be faced with… stars starting to twinkle at you out of the inky blackness. Dammit. I'm gonna have to defeat systemic oppression tomorrow.

Squinting from behind your glasses, you see that the stars are not stars at all but helicopters blinking down at you. You haven't seen real stars since your trip to Big Sur last summer. Although you moved to LA when you were 7, you have vague recollections of the Korea that you loved as a young child. Your parents had picked up and moved to the States after years of struggling through VISA's and citizenship red tape. Your mom and dad had originally meant to get married and have you in the US. The land of opportunity.

You now chafed slightly under that blanket of opportunity as you are far too aware of the responsibility you have been given to make the absolute most of it. From the ripe old age of 8 you had been conditioned to follow your dreams to their fullest. As long as those dreams were to become a doctor, lawyer, or marry a CEO. Your parents cared about you greatly and you knew that. They only want security for you, happiness comes from security. Now 25, you can't quite remember the last time their overbearing nature had been quite this...potent. You were in your final year of medical school at USC and there was nowhere to run. It was time for you to begin your foray into the 'real world' of residency. The same post-undergrad 'real world' that you had watched all of your non-premed friends crash land into. They had all distanced themselves from you, both figuratively and literally; intentionally and inadvertently. Divorced, Beheaded, Died: Divorced, Beheaded, Survived. You had watched you friends get married, have kids, sabotage marriages, buy houses, do well, do poorly. And here you were in some kind of bubble both safe and isolated from all of the uncertainty beyond the classroom.

Jokes on you, Jessica, now we're all screwed, you find yourself thinking for the upteenth time over the past month. You had been watching the Coronavirus since December and knew exactly what was to come. You did all that you were capable of as a not-quite certified medical professional and tried to convince people of the reality of the threat, convince them not to panic, and to exercise a reasonable level of preparedness. Well, that didn't work. You found yourself sunk into a deep well of frustration and futility at the action and inaction that was being exhibited throughout the States. For the first weeks of quarantine you found yourself glued to your phone, helplessly watching the tragedy unfold and the stupidity that was ensuing. By week 2 your empathy had burnt out and you knew you couldn't watch that world anymore. K-drama's it is. After completely obliterating Crash Landing on You, Itaewon Class, and rewatching Descendants of the Sun for the eighth time just because it's so. damn. cute!, your parents started to get a little concerned.

Your stomach growled and you realize you, in fact, haven't eaten since early this morning. As you consider what the consequences of emerging from your cave of a bedroom might have, you resign yourself. Five minutes later you are hovering in the kitchen with a bowl of leftover whateverthefuck in hand, you turn to see both of your parents at the bar stools staring at you with a look of concern that you haven't seen in years. Shit, I keep forgetting, they think I'm functional. Your parents had shipped you off to Health Careers College Prep school, a boarding school in Sacramento, when you were 16. Upon graduation there with your high school diploma, nurses aid, and dental hygienist's certificates, you immediately started at USC premed. You hadn't lived at home since your Jonas Brother's phase. As much as your parents loved you, they didn't really know you. This had been overwhelmingly obvious when the USC campus closed and you returned home to open arms and your bedroom frozen in the clutches of 2009. Your parents had welcomed you home with tearful hugs and a new gift for your room. I know how much you love that Kevin- boy. And your room is so old. Come. Come. Already wary and wondering who the hell is Kevin? you allowed yourself to be led to your old room and set your bags down with a deadened thump. You tried so hard not to laugh, You really did. They're trying so hard. But like, Where did they even find this monstrosity? You had been staring up at the largest poster of Kevin Jonas that you had ever seen every night for 3 weeks and it was starting to get to you.

Regardless of the decor (purple fuzzy lamp shade included), there were so many parts of living at home that were so foreign to you. Although everything was completely the same, you were worlds different and it was disorienting. Your bed seemed smaller, the walls shorter, the colors dimmer. Everything that made that house your home was still there, only you had changed. It was like you were in a coma and had just woken up, the rest of the world unchanged but with 10 more years under your belt. Your therapist would tell you that you were reverting into a childlike state because of trauma and surroundings. Hush, Mollie, I don't need that right now. I need food.

Food was honestly what was keeping you sane and civil. Your parents own a pho shop just down the street that was still taking carry out and delivery orders for pho, crawfish, whatever they had lying around. You had been helping out in the kitchen and with deliveries since you had been home. As freeing as the drives have been, you really come alive in the kitchen. You had been watching your mom make pho and dumplings for years and although she sent kimchi to your apartment every month or so, you missed your moms cooking. And her kitchen. You immediately took to cooking just like you had when you moved off of USC campus and into an apartment with some friends. You had 12 burners! That all worked! A convection oven! Two of them! Kitchen Aid's! You had no problem opening up shop at 8am every morning to prep the dough and get the stock boiling and all of the other things that her mother and father had been doing for the past 20 years.

Returning to your room after rinsing out your bowl and chopsticks, and exchanging goodnight's with your parents you sit on your bed and tell yourself to go to bed. You have to be up at 7am for the kitchen. You need to chop scallions for the pork and chive dumplings so it has time to coagulate. Come on, Go to bed. No phone. It was a pitiful attempt, really. You had been pulling med-school grade all-nighters since your junior year of high school and nothing was stopping you now. Turning on your side for easy access to your charger, you plug your phone and coast through Instagram, Youtube, Twitter, Tinder for an indeterminate amount of time before your eyes start to get heavy. Instagram was just filled with all of your peers from USC recklessly meeting up with friends for picnics and drives and all of the other things they thought they were free to do because they were young and healthy and beautiful. Fuck off. Youtube provided a lovely escape from the actual outside. Mikey Chen showed you around TaiPei's street food scene, Binging with Babish gave you a new hand pulled noodle recipe to try, Bon Appetit made you glad you weren't Claire Saffitz. Tinder was a joke but an adequately funny one. Instead of your bog standard USC fuckboi's you were able to talk to fuckboi's from Korea, Dubai, Indonesia, Guatemala, Brazil. How fun. You had downloaded it 6 months prior after yet another guy in your department was just 'too busy, i'm sorry' to make the date that you had planned. You generally tried to avoid Twitter as it was just an echo chamber of panic and 24 hour news cycles and didn't do much for your anxiety. See, Mollie? I'm being smart.

You flick open the little bird app and scroll for just a minute. A particular notification picques your attention. Jae tweeted. Well, Day6 tweeted, but we all know who runs their twitter. Your throat tightens with nerves as the post loads. You worry about him more than you'd like to admit but with tours cancelled and travel suspended, you know how hard it can be for people whose livelihoods revolve around entertainment and travel. The post loads and you let out a sigh of relief to see Jae surrounded by his band mates and smiling. Brian starts speaking Korean and delivers his message about their newly acquired tiktok. Brian gestures for Jae to speak and Jae delivers the same message in English. Ah, he went back to blonde. It looks good on him. Wait is he- oh god, he's wearing a crossbody fanny pack. Jae, you're old. Stop. Shifting to get more comfortable, you let the video loop a few times before closing the app. Jae's okay. You roll over onto your side and set your phone to the side. Jae's voice echoes through your ears for the next few minutes but you resolve yourself against it. I'm not getting fucking tiktok. I'm a grown ass woman. That app is for 12 year olds. And Jae. Resolved, you burrow into your Jonas brothers duvet cover for the night.

Sweating and on the verge of tears, you wake with a start. The dream was already slipping from your consciousness with a blessed haste but the uneasy feeling that the nightmare gave you seemed to coat the inside of your skull and taint it's entire contents. A thin light filters through your still open window and your eyes creak open. Morning? Sure, why not? Rolling over, you flick open your phone and are greeted by an all too unfamiliar, 5:17am. It's too damn early. Even for you. You still have an hour or so to kill before you have to get up but you didn't fancy the idea of trying to go back to sleep after that dream. Propping yourself up on a few of the approximately 67 pillows that litter your twin sized bed, you open your phone. 3 new emails from USC congratulating you on your graduation and asking for some documentation of something or another or evaluation of some class you hadn't thought of in weeks. Skip. 2 emails from residencies that you had applied to before the coronavirus urging you to reapply in the fall. Great. You couldn't even bring yourself to feign concern over the missed opportunity. 1 email from Twitter informing you that Jae had tweeted. Again. You follow the link to another video of his side project EaJ. You had been following his new releases and you were surprised by the tenderness and vulnerability that they showed. He was always such a funny guy, it was the only side that he really showed much to the media. Sure, fans got glimpses at concerts, but not many knew just how deep the well ran in that man.

Today's Tuesday, apparently. The next episode of How Did I Get Here? comes out today. I'll have something to listen to while I food prep. You never admitted to yourself how pleased you were when he started the podcast. You missed hearing his voice on a regular basis. Hollered up into your window, whispered between giggles in the back-most church pew, hurled across crowded hallways. Of course, the voice was different than it is now. Pocked by pubescence and the LA accent, you remember a far squeakier Jae. He was the first person you met when you moved into the neighborhood at 7 years old. He was 9 so of course, he took it upon himself to show you exactly where you could and couldn't go and what taco trucks would give out fare for free to little kids on weekends. You remember those years fondly as finally having the big brother you never had. Skinny Bone Jones, you called him. He stood up for you when the kids in middle school called you smelly for bringing kimchi in your lunch. He called you smelly just for being you. He was well liked in school and by extension so were you. You had the cool big brother. You were more than happy to play second fiddle and be his backup. Tagging along to parties, helping him record his yellow post-it note covers on Youtube, letting him know when his hair looked stupid.

And so it stayed until Jae actually made it on KPop Star. As much as you loved him, you didn't think he would ACTUALLY make it. Sure, he could sing. He had a beautiful voice but that wasn't enough. The boy danced like a drunk chicken and was 6ft tall and 120lbs soaking wet. He didn't even know Korean. What was he thinking? He was thinking he was going to prove you wrong. And he did. You watched as Skinny Bone Jones transformed into Park Jaehyung with a perfect balance of immense pride and terror. You knew you wouldn't lose your friend entirely but during his trainee days he had very limited access to the outside world, and you just weren't a priority. Honestly, you would've been offended if you had been. He has a mom, dad, an older sister, bandmates, college. It only makes sense that the steady stream of communication turned into a trickle. It wasn't until Every Day6 that you were more of an insistent presence in his life. You burrowed your way back into his inbox with the tenacity of the annoying little sister that you were. You were worried. You watched him on After School Club and in the deluge of content that Day6 was serving their slowly growing fanbase. He looked tired. You once again rekindled your relationship but it was different now. Instead of you leaning on him for social support, you became his confidant. He was struggling. Burnt out, and questioning so many things, he didn't want to go to his bandmates because he didn't want them to worry. His parents would pull him immediately if they knew exactly how rough his condition was, his 'friends' from college had proved fake. He now had Alpha Phi Omega blocked because they wouldn't stop asking for favors: Day6 tickets, Twice merch, Got7 tickets. He felt alone but you reached out and he was able to lean on you. The trials passed and he was happier than ever and Day6's growing popularity meant good things for his lobster funds.

You stayed in contact over the years and shared with each other the going on's of your lives. You had even managed to go to the Gravity World Tour date in LA. Jae got you backstage and you were able to meet the rest of his bandmates that you had heard so much about. It was an act of God that you managed to keep your composure. I mean sure, he's just Jae but you're still backstage at a concert for the first time! Your cheeks still redden when you remember how Jae caught you ogling at YoungK. Heart in your throat, and voice barely above a whisper YoungK had walked directly over to you and asked what you were doing backstage. After a solid 15 seconds of pointing listlessly at your Press badge and making just the strangest of noises that were meant to approximate speech, Jae finally caught wind and rushed over, knocking your sense back into you and introducing you to the members.

Oh! Y/N! It's so nice to finally meet you! Jae talks about you all the time, I'm so glad you were able to make it! Your cheeks inexplicably reddened further to a violent shade of pink but the boys slowly defanged themselves in your mind. They're truly lovely people and you're glad Jae has them. That being said, you still can't quiiiite look Brian in the eyes and Jae thinks it's hilarious.

The Gravity tour feels like ages ago as you shrug on some jeans and a tee shirt for your walk to the shop. August 2019 at the Novo may have only been 8 months ago but it seems like a different reality. The Novo will be closed for the forseeable future and concerts are cancelled. That stings but not as much as the radio silence from Jae. First it was his tour schedule that rendered communication difficult and now the virus. You know he's busy and it's been a weird few months for the entertainment industry, but a 'Hey I'm alive.' would be nice. From his podcasts and twitter you've been able to keep some thread attached but you feel it stretching thin as the months stretch on. You really don't want to be annoying. You're sick of feeling like a fan. Yeah, you support Jae and Day6 and would call yourself a MyDay, but that's not all you are. You know him. You dragged him through the mud when he convinced you to try sledding down a muddy hill on a trash can lid. You set up his camcorder for his covers when he still had that stupid swoopy hair. You posed as his angry girlfriend when a crazy fan wouldn't leave him alone. You're starting to feel like just a fan and not a friend and it's only exacerbated by the glee that you feel when you get the notification from dive studios that How Did I Get Here? has updated. I miss my friend.

Not bothering to flip the sign on the front door from closed to open, you shoulder open the front door of the shop after fumbling with the keys. Tying an apron securely around your waist, and flicking on your noise cancelling headphones to a comforting thrum, you wash your hands and begin to chop the largest pile of scallions you've ever seen. Crunching through the pile, you start Jae's podcast and everything is gone but him. You can almost imagine him in the room with you, perched on the counter talking your ear off about the Mandela effect or how weird elbows are or something equally as ridiculous. Today he's talking about soul mates. As you listen to him joke and banter and pontificate, your eyes well up. It's just the scallions. You know damn well it's only partially the scallions. You miss Jae. And you're in the middle of a pandemic. And your family barely knows you. And you're not sure if you even want to be a pediatric oncologist. Fuck. Jae's words turn into white noise in your ears as you toss your headphones to the side and place the knife on the butchers block, perhaps more aggressively than necessary. You pause the podcast and let yourself sit in the feeling. You're lonely and sad. See Mollie? I'm letting myself feel things. Making room for every emotion. You cast your mind around and recall all of the little wounds that prick a little too deep today. You feel a squeeze in your abdomen and your eyes shoot open wide. Shit, my period. I've got to be PMSing. Even Jae recognized the trend in your emotions before you did. The week before your period, you were notoriously mushy and weepy and indulgent. Well, that's one mystery solved. I'll be okay. Mollie's voice echoed through your brain with her familiar argument that hormones only heighten the emotional distress, not fabricate it. These feelings are valid and aren't fake just because you're hormonal. You steadfastly ignore that point, wipe your eyes, and pull your headphones back on. You finish up the pile of scallions and a few other morning chores before the podcast ends. It's Jae's sign off that sends the bowl of mandu filling that you were holding clattering to the floor. "I'm coming to you from my childhood home, so if the audio is a little finnicky… blame Byron." Jae's home.

…

After sweeping up a pound of pork, beef, mirin, soy sauce, and chives and disposing of it, you stare at your phone- hands shaking slightly. Jae. What the fuck. You rip off your apron and your mind races. Should I call him? Should I go see him? I can’t believe he’s right here. 2 houses down. Fuck. Your rational brain knows that it’s okay to feel excited about Jae being home. But the sneaky little bitch that lives in the back of your brain is telling you that if he wanted to hear from you, he would’ve called. You feel a little bit of yourself fragment at that, but you push it to the side. You open up your phone and slide over to his contact in your phone. What greets you is your last text conversation.

Jae: I’m so glad you had fun, Y/N! But if you ever look at Brian like that again, I might have to put a ban on you at our concerts. His head was way too big.

Y/N: Look at him like what?! I didn’t do anything and you know it!

Jae: Of course you’re didn‘t. You totally weren’t drooling over my bassist.

Y/N: Fuck off.

Jae: Gladly, love. ;)

8 months ago. Sure you’d DM’d quite a bit since then and called a few times. But it just seemed so sparse. You don’t want him to just humor you. You’re an adult and perfectly capable of being alone. You’re not going to text him just yet.

You finish up your morning chores and head back to your house, pausing for perhaps just a little too long in front of the sandstone house with the tan shutters and shoes out front. You knew that house so well. You knew how much weight the tree outside the upstairs bedroom window could hold. You knew where the kimchi refrigerator was tucked away in a back corner of the garage. You knew there was a blonde boy in there that you wanted nothing more than to run inside and get a hug from.

You shower and let the hot water run over you, hoping it will relax the knotted up muscles in your back. It’s not like I can go see him anyway. We’re in quarantine. He probably just got back to LA and just hasn’t gotten the chance to-. You run the same conversation over and over in your head until you can’t take it anymore. You need someone else’s voice in your head. Curling into your covers, you sigh and go to the App Store. A few short minutes later and you hate yourself more than you ever have. Tiktok. Here we go. You watch the video of Day6 introducing themselves to the social networking platform once, twice, three times until your eyes start to ache. All of a sudden you’re met with a new post that pings up. Your breath catches in your throat as you see Jae standing in his living room, attempting to keep up with Amber Liu’s dance challenge. You can’t help but giggle as he flails to the left, to the right, oversized black hoodie always falling into his face. BM would be proud. Express not impress. You find yourself shocked at the weight that he’s gained. He looks healthy and happy. You remember the conversations in middle school about how much he hated being skinny. The evenings in the weight room in high school. Failed doctors appointments. He looked good before but you see that in recent months his chest has been swelling and not just with pride. His shoulders sit a little bit broader than you ever remember in the past and you’re happy for him. Good for you, Jae.

You like the tiktok and let it loop a few more times before sighing heavily and opening your messaging app.

Y/N: I got TikTok for you, ya little shit.

You chuckle but leave the text unsent. You’ll think of something better later. You toss your phone to the side in the face of the mountain of laundry on your bed that needs to be taken care of. As you hang the last of your shirts, your phone pings. You pick it up to a notification from Jae.

Skinny Bone Jones: Language!

Skinny Bone Jones: Do you think Amber approves?

You feel a flare of indignation wash through your limbs at the mention. Apparently it had sent. Oh well. As the thrill of a reply ebbs out of you, it is replaced by a rising indignation. How dare you?! Not tell me you’re in town and pretend like you didn’t?! Really?!

Y/N: I don’t really care what Amber thinks.

Maybe that was a little snippy. You love Amber, truly. But how can he have time for TikTok but not me?

Skinny Bone Jones: Yeah? Do you still care what I think?

Your heart catches in your throat. So he’s caught on that you’re pissed.

Skinny Bone Jones: Y/N, can I call you?

You swipe up to the phone icon and call him on auto pilot. Talk to me, Jae.

“Y/N?” you hear Jae’s voice.

“Jae.” Your voice comes out whispier than you meant it to. You try again.

“Jae! How are you?”

“Oh, y’know, just got off a plane that smelled like bleach and got to my house that isn’t really my house anymore, left my guitar to be sanitized, was “strongly encouraged” to make a TikTok by my company, and then got my head bit off by my best friend. Just quarantine things.” There is a touch of acid in his voice but Jae mostly sounds tired. Your empathy comes surging back and you sigh.

“I’m sorry Jae. I just- I didn’t know you were in town until I listened to your podcast this morning. I was a little hurt that you didn’t call or anything.”

“Look, kid. I just got home. I’m a diva. You know I require at least an 18 hour period of naps and boba to function properly. I’m a KPop Star now.” You laugh at the callback to your irate spiel a few years ago about how fame had changed him and he was a diva and just ‘wasn’t the Jae you knew’ anymore. It wasn’t his fault he was allergic to everything and turned down all of your food suggestions.

“Jae, you’ve been a diva since day one.” You quip back, tension resolving as you fall back into a familiar playful banter.

“And don’t you forget it, Y/N.” There's a slight pause before Jae continues,

“This diva is really sorry he didn’t call you. It’s just been a lot the last few days. The tour just got cancelled. And our album comes out in a few days. Our team has been going crazy trying to figure out how we’re supposed to publicize in this climate and I just-“

“Jae. Chill. When I preordered mine last week, it was the most popular album on the site. It’s gonna sell. Don’t worry too much.” There’s a beat of silence in which you can hear the air whoosh out of Jae’s lungs.

“You-You preordered Demon?” Jae sounds shocked but endeared at your admission and you laugh.

“Of course? I’m really pumped to hear that sexy, soothing voice of Wonpil’s. Maybe I’ll even get a Dowoon photo card this time! I keep getting Jae ones in my other albums and I give them to my little cousin.” This isn’t entirely true. You have 3 of Young K, 2 of Dowoon, and 1 each of Wonpil and Sungjin. You’ve been waiting for a Jae photocard for ages. You would die before you told him that, though.

“You little shit. If you don’t want to see my face, why are you following Day6 on TikTok?” Jae ribs back.

“Brian. Duh. He’s fine as hell.”

“Yah! Haven’t you found a boring ass Orthopedic surgeon or some shit, yet? Why do you have to terrorize me like this?”

“Why? Haven’t you found a Twice member that’ll marry you yet, Skinny Bone Jones?”

“I’ll have you know, I gained 10 pounds the past 8 weeks! I’ll be big as BM soon!” You can picture the expression of childlike pride in his face even if you can’t see it.

“You look really good, Jae. I’m proud of you. You’ve been working really hard.” The sudden sincerity catches the both of you off guard and you clear your throat.

“Thanks, Y/N. That means a lot.” A comfortable silence is followed by a lengthy conversation recounting the previous weeks, the various states of the other members, your own eviction from college, and the status of the shop.

“You know, Y/N, if you or your family need anything I’m more than happy to help. I mean I know how hard it can-“ You cut him off before he can go any further.

“We’re okay Jae, honest. I know you’d be good for it but we don’t need anything right now. Business is good at the pho shop and we’re okay.”

“Okay, okay. Just know I’m here.”

“I mean NOW I do, no thanks to youuu,” you wheedle, whining about his failure to let you know he was in town.

“Come on, Y/N, I said I was sorry!” He laughs but you can hear the desperation of sincerity in his voice.

“I know, Jae. I’m just kidding. I just really missed you.”

“I missed you too Y/N.”

You get off the phone upon the realization that you needed to go to the shop and prep for the dinner deliveries. Sometimes you abhorred that you were “essential”. You run downstairs and tell your parents the good news about Jae and inform them you’ll be back soon.

“I know you’re excited, Y/N, but remember we can’t be going and visiting people like that. Only essential work.” You roll your eyes slightly but assure them that you know. As if you hadn’t been telling them the same thing for weeks. I had to convince you not to go play mahjong in the park, eomma. You might be excited, but you’re not stupid.

You had just started filling the mandu when you hear the bell over the door chime. Pardon me, are you stupid? We've been closed for weeks, why do you think it would be okay to just walk in? You wipe your hands on your apron and start to walk to the counter.

"Hello? I'm sorry, we're only open for call-in deliveries." You round the corner and lift your head from your hands to see the form of the gangliest, tallest, loveliest man you've ever seen in your life.

"Special delivery." Jae remarks smoothly, arms open wide in invitation and head cocked to the side as if he was bracing himself for the crash landing that was to come.

"Jae!" you yell, and launch yourself from behind the counter and into his arms. His arms fold around you and everything else melts away. Your face burrows against his chest and you inhale. He smells like home and cinnamon. You can feel tears welling up in your eyes with the tide of emotions that wash over you. Jae's hand cups the back of your head into him and he hugs you just as tightly as you hug him. You press yourself into him with everything you have and in the deafening silence and warmth all that you can think is I love you.

"Y/N" He whispers, not loosening his grip on you.

"Mmph." you respond weakly.

"My shirt's wet." You jump back from him a bit and see that he's correct. Your eyes are leaking. All over his white shirt. Oops.

"Oh! I'm-I'm sorry." You laugh a bit and swipe at your eyes before patting at his shirt in futility.

"It's okay, love. Come here." He welcomes you back into his arms and you wrap your arms over his neck this time.

"I missed you." You whisper, voice cracking a bit.

"I know you did." You jump back from him. Bitch.

"Hush. I missed you too, you idiot. Why else would I be standing here right now?"

You cast your eyes around in a panic. He's here. He's right here. In the store. Here. He shouldn't be here. He should be in quarantine with his family. You're unessential to him.

Sensing the realization in your eyes, he pushes past you, walking to the back and puts on the latex gloves hidden behind the counter.

"I figured it was about time to get a 'real job' like everyone keeps telling me to." He smiles smugly and picks up the knife to start chopping the bok choy. You stand there in shock for one second, two seconds, three seconds until you realize he’s about to cut his fingers off.

“Jae! Stop!”

“Look, Y/N, I don’t care what you say, I’m going to do this. I want to help. And I’ll be damned if I’m not allowed to see you in the time I’m finally here-“

“No, Jae. Stop. I know I can’t argue with you. I’d be thrilled if you’d work with me. But Brian is gonna kill me if I let you cut your damn hands off.”

“I… what?”

“You’re a guitarist Jae. We can’t have you cutting off your pretty little fingers. And if you keep chopping it like that, that’s exactly what you’re going to do.”

Jae looks down at his hands and stretches his fingers wide as if considering them for the first time.

“Pretty?”

You roll your eyes, but unbidden, your eyes are still trained on his hands. They really are pretty.

“Just. Let me show you.” You show him how to tuck his knuckles up against the blade and chop in smooth rocking motions so as not to take off his fingertips.

You work in relative silence for the next hour, packaging meals and portioning combos as your mom and dad peek in and out to pick up the orders. You can feel a warmth flowing through you as you take in your surroundings. The loneliness of the past weeks leeches out of you and dissipates into the warm atmosphere, homey smells, and murmur of conversation. It’s almost as if your limbs wake up bit by bit, like a tree waking up after a long frigid winter. You feel yourself stretch and shine and the bubbles of contentment flow through you. By the time the last combo is out the door, you find it really difficult to take the smile of your face.

Jae seemed to be in the same boat. On more than one occasion you caught him staring at you. Every time you caught him he just shook his head and laughed in that infuriating way of his. But you really couldn’t be irritated at him. It was impossible. He was your happy fairy, even if you wanted to kick him in the shins every two minutes for saying something dumb. Mom and dad said goodnight to Jae in the same way they have been since he was 10. “Tell Mrs.Park I say hello and don’t be a stranger.” Right after they leave and you’re washing the last dish, while Jae sits on the counter telling you about production for Day6’s new album, the phone rings. Before you can tell Jae not to answer it, he’s already taking the man's order. Fine. One more can't hurt. You weren’t anxious to end this day and return to bed alone, so you welcome the post-closing distraction. Cobbling together a plate from the leftovers you were about to bring home, you grab your keys and beckon Jae to follow you.

“No need to bug mom and dad, we can take this one.”

As you walk outside toward where your little yellow bug is parked, you feel Jae move behind you. You can feel his body close to yours and you stiffen instinctually. You’re not used to skinship anymore and you can feel the blood in your veins carbonate as Jae’s breath ghosts across the back of your neck. You stop dead in your tracks, eyes wide, flush creeping up your neck as you feel his hands- those damn hands- ghost along the side of your left arm. You squeak when his fingers brush against the back of your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. Your world spins. Fuck is he holding my hand? Do I want this to happen? He’s so close to me. Can he hear my heartbeat?

“Jae-“ you begin to say, with absolutely no idea as to where the statement would go after.

Luckily you don’t have to think of any sort of decisive move because Jae immediately snatches the keys from your now limp left hand with a cackle, running ahead to the car.

“I’m driving!” You little fucking- oooh!

You’re thankful for the cool evening breeze and dim street lights or you were sure to get a ribbing for the blazing red cheeks that you were sporting. You climb into the passenger's seat with the food on your lap and do your best to sink into invisibility. It doesn’t work. You’re convinced that he can hear your brain jackhammering away at the night's events.

Did I want that to happen? Did that happen? He was so close to me. He felt so warm and the way he touched me. Running your hands over your arm, you could feel his touch like it had raced a burning path down your whole left side. Do I… like Jae?

You glance over at him now and again as he puts the car in drive and begins the route to the destination. Jae, of course, is jabbering away about how everything has changed since he’s been gone and, “Omigod, is that ANOTHER pinkberry?” You find yourself nodding along passively while actively trying to figure out what the hell was going on in your brain. Much like his podcast, his voice became white noise by which you asked yourself questions you weren’t sure you wanted the answers to. Of course I love him. But do I like, like him? Never in your life have you felt more like a horny, confused teenager but as you glance over and watch Jae with one hand on the steering wheel, wind blowing through his hair, you know one thing for sure- Jae isn’t a kid anymore. And he isn’t your brother.

It isn’t until you pull into a neighborhood about 10 minutes later that you remember that you’re here on a delivery. Yanking yourself from your reverie, but with unease still firmly lodged in your thoughts, you address the task at hand.

“Jae, where are we?”

“Uhhhh, 3051 Driver Rd.”

Driver Road. You know this neighborhood but you can’t quite place where. If your previous safari into your possible romantic interest in Jae wasn’t jarring enough, you feel panic rising through your system like so much bile. Why do I know this neighborhood? Jae, unaware of any turmoil on your part, pulls up to the house in question and when your headlights wash over the yard your heart sinks into your throat. You’re going to be sick. 3051 Driver Rd. This is where Sean lives.

You had met Sean Avery in your sophomore year of premed and had fallen head over heels in love with him. He was tall, attractive, ambitious, and he wanted you. You were star struck. It wasn’t until a year of ‘dating’ later that you unearthed the whole messy truth of his long string of side pieces and general douchebaggery. If that wasn’t enough, in the past year you heard the report of him almost catching a case with a high school senior in the area. You knew now that he was nothing but a predator and a coward. You had managed to avoid him since your explosive breakup but now it seemed you had very little choice.

“Sean fucking Avery” you seethe in the seat next to Jae.

“What did he do to you?” Jae asked, taken aback by your sudden vitriol.

“Shit, that wasn’t in my head was it?” Jae laughs a bit but sobers up quickly at your expression.

“Y/N you look really pale, are you okay? I don’t know your history with this guy but hey, you don’t have to deliver this. I’ll do it. Don’t you worry, love.” Jae places his hand on the top of your head and ruffles your hair a bit in an attempt to be comforting. The attempt helped. Your heart pricks up a bit at Jae’s term of endearment but it feels more deadened than it should. You’re sick of feeling like this. Of letting Sean steal your joy from you. It’s been too long for that shit. Pulling yourself together a bit, you shake yourself out of your head and steel yourself.

“No, Jae, I’ve got this.” Jae looks at you with slight concern but shrugs nonetheless.

“Alright, well, I’m going with you okay? This dude really must’ve done a number on you if this is your response. And I’d like to see the bastard.” Jae’s eyes glinted with something dangerous that you’ve never seen in him before and it causes the same fire in you to spark. Let’s do this.

With Jae by your side, you march up to the door with the delivery order and set it on the front steps. The doorbell is deafening in the still night and you have to remind yourself to breathe. You jump as the door swings wide and a pathetic looking man sporting a robe and a beer belly peeks from the inside. All of the breath that had been waiting in your lungs released and you feel your head go a little bit light with the realization that this was the man that you were in love with. 7 years later, gone was the debonair gentleman who could sweep you off your feet. In his stead stood a balding, fat, stiff man in boxers and a moth eaten robe. He grunts in acknowledgment of the presence of other humans but it’s obvious that the Neanderthal hasn’t recognized you. He retrieves his food and goes fumbling in his robe pocket for his wallet. He fishes out a card and hands it to you. You take it from him and process the payment.

Declined.

“Sorry, Sean, your card- it declined.”

He huffs and makes a sound in the back of his throat that you can only describe as gross as you hand it back to him.

“It what!? What do you mean declined?” He stumbles forward a few steps and you automatically flinch backward into Jae. Jae’s hand comes up to your shoulder to ground you, a reminder that he’s still there. Sean’s movement wafts a smell of body odor and brown liquor. He always was a mean drunk. You decide to cut your losses while you can and keep the transaction as minimal as possible. No games.

“Your card, Sean, it declined. Do you have an alternate form of payment?” Sean whips open his wallet and roots around for a minute before retrieving a few crumpled up bills. He extends the cash but before you can swap his card for cash, his arm whips back. Looking at you sideways, suspicion drips from his slurred speech,

“How do you know my name?”

Shit. Fuck. Dammit.

You watch helplessly as the cogs turn in his inebriated brain and recognition washes over his face.

“Y/N! It’s you! What do you want from me now, bitch? Trying to take my money now too? Get out of here!” His voice steadily rises in volume and you can feel the walls of your panic closing in on you. Suddenly Jae steps in front of you, arm outstretched to the belligerent man.

“You’re talking to me now. You’re done with her.” Jae holds himself with a confidence that you had only seen from him onstage.

“Just pay for the food and we’ll be going.”

“And who the fuck are you?” Sean spits back, as if Jae were something distasteful that he had found on the bottom of his shoe.

“I’m Jae. Y/N’s boyfriend. Now I’d really love to take Y/N home tonight before it gets too much later. So if you can just pay for your meal, we’ll get going.”

Sean crumples up the bills and throws it into Jae’s chest.

“Good luck with that bitch, kid. You’re gonna need it.” And with that he retreats inside and slams the door shut behind him.

Jae immediately rushes to your side and wraps you in a big hug. Although similar in mechanics to the hug earlier that day, this one was far different in intent. You could feel it in his soul, that hug was meant to squeeze all of the fragmented pieces of you back together again and hold them until they stuck. You can feel your heartbeat slowing to match his and your breathing slowly regulates.

Mollie is gonna have a lot of fun with this one.

Jae escorts you back to the car and there’s a thick silence that you can’t quite bring yourself to cut as he puts the car into drive. You know he is forming his own story of what happened between you and Sean in his head and you can’t tell if that’s better or worse than just reliving it and telling him the whole story- cops and testifying and court and all.

Once out of the neighborhood, Jae heaves a sigh and chuckles a bit.

“Well he seemed lovely.”

“Uh huh. He’s a real peach.”

Jae looks over at you with an expression of dual concern and amused what-the-fucker-y. Did that really just happen?

There is a beat of silence and solid eye contact before you both start cracking up. Unable to restrain yourself any further, you both dissolve into a kind of healing, deep belly laughter that shakes the entire car. Pulling up to your house, Jae throws the car into park and then turns to face you.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, you know? It’s not my business. You’re my business. But asshats like him aren't. Just that I’m around to keep them away from you.”

You sigh deeply, still recovering from the laugh attack, before giving him a brief bulleted list of the sheer shenanigans that Sean had pulled on you all those years ago. You watched as Jae’s face contorted over the course of the story, hardening into yet another study in fierceness that you were yet to see from him.

“I really am okay, though Jae. He had me pretty fucked up for a little bit but honest, I’m okay. I did the therapy, I fought my battles. I just hadn’t done the last closure step of actually looking him in the eye and saying goodbye and good riddance. And I probably never would’ve if it weren’t for tonight.” You reach out and grab his hand instinctively.

“Thank you, Jae. I really appreciate you doing that with me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“You would’ve gotten your ass handed to you is what you would’ve done.” Jae states, deadpan.

“Jaeee!” You laugh, hitting him on the arm.

“Oh, so now you can throw a punch? Okaaay, nice.” This little shit.

Banter aside, Jae takes the key out of the ignition and gathers his things to get out of the car. As he closes the door, you hear him mutter “You need to pick better guys. You’re too great to end up with someone like that.”

You don’t have any kind of answer to that, but you feel a lightness in your chest as his eyes burn into you. Jae walks you to your front door and all you can hear in your head is an echo of Jae’s declaration of “I’m Jae, Y/N’s boyfriend.” Is that what I want?

You end up at your front door far too soon and the twinkling of the helicopters in the sky signals to you that it’s more than time for Jae to go home. Your heart sinks into your stomach at the thought of him leaving and you inwardly groan.

Jae gives you one last hug goodnight and you know before he even releases you that this isn’t enough. Not even nearly. Your feelings, whatever they may be: love, like, general affection, haven’t been correctly quantified and expressed. This has been the best day you’ve had in months, and he was the deciding factor. You were grateful to have him there on your front door step, in his arms. But maybe, just maybe, if you’re able to express to him exactly how you feel about him in this moment, he’ll be able to help you out and translate exactly what this feeling means for your future together. Without thinking about it too much, you retreat from the hug and angle your face up to his so that your noses are almost touching. You sit like this for just a second. That sickening second that would allow him to retreat and tell you you’re an idiot for even thinking it. But he doesn’t retreat. Instead, your lips are brushing against one another in just the barest of whispers of a kiss. His lips are so soft. It’s over in an instant and as the chilly night air cuts between the two of you, you are all too aware of how disproportionately warm your face and neck have become. You smile up at Jae and he carries a similar, if not slightly more shocked, half smile.

As if reading one another’s minds, you both understand that it’s wise to let one another think about the night's proceedings before any further rash decisions are made. In an attempt to preserve the spell of the night sky and the kiss and the chirping cicadas, neither of you say another word to one another but instead exchange content smiles that convey more than a goodnight ever could. With a slight bow of his head and a glide of his hand down the length of your arm, Jae walks backwards down your front steps and slips into the night, shaking his head slightly, trying and failing to conceal his smile. You watch him from the porch as he skips up to his house, before slipping into the warmth of your own home.

...

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#kpop #day6 #day6 jae #park jaehyung #slow burn #fluff #kpop fanfiction #day6 fluff #day6 au #fanfiction #skinny bone jones #friends to lovers

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otpnessmess · 5 years

Text

Daminette December Day 3: “Decorating”

TW: Major Character Death.

Now that I made that clear, I want to apologize in advance for any sadness this can cause. I just couldn’t help it. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy your read as always! Also, @ethelphantom is awesome for putting up with me and going over this.

Ao3 - Masterlist

Decorating any type of thing had never been Damian's forte, but he tended to become particularly grumpy about it around the time the holidays rolled around.

During the time he spent under the supervision of his mother and grandfather, holiday decorating was sparse, if there even was any at all. He couldn't say he was mad about the lack of spirit, however. Normal people liked to believe that there was something special about the season, with their holier-than-thou attitude and preaching hope and happiness wherever they went. Damian found them annoying and was more than glad his family didn't engage in such festivities.

When he arrived at Wayne Manor, though, he wasn't ready for how different things were handled. Being introduced to the family a few days before his birthday meant half of December had already gone by, which in turn meant that the holiday craze was on its peak point.

'Disgusting.' The boy scowled around at the menagerie of trinkets and garlands hanging everywhere he could see. Was that mistletoe on that door frame? Why would you bring a tree inside, only to put stupid colorful balls and a star on it? He was pretty tempted to go back to his mother and her strict training. Anything sounded better than staying in the mansion from hell, with these savages and their awfully cheerful spirits for the month.

Bruce never allowed him to do that, however, so the only thing Damian could do was learn how to at least tolerate it.

It was surprisingly less difficult than they originally planned, even if it took the family several years to completely warm him up. They learned presents were a great incentive. His siblings knew perfectly well that, was Bruce to find out they were gifting him with weapons and strange books (which contained incredibly inappropriate things for a 12-year-old), there would be hell to pay. But hey, at least the kid seemed to appreciate them. Hopefully, he liked the gifts enough to keep quiet about it and not plan any murders.

By the time he was 16, the holiday season was not such a burden anymore. Like, sure, Damian still hated carols, and those cheesy Christmas movies his family used to watch all huddled together on the sofa. But, as Jon liked to remind him, that's not what the holidays were supposed to be about.

That same year, his friend introduced him to Marinette. She was in Gotham on a trip with her class, and since Jon was a fan of just befriending adorable people, he made it their new mission to do so with her. Not that it was hard, mind you. When the tiny girl learned that Damian could speak French as well as he could English, her face lit up. Much to Jon's dismay and surprise, quick responses to whatever the hell Marinette was saying kept falling from his best friend's lips. And thus a friendship was born.

It was sad when, a month later, they had to go to the airport together to say their goodbyes. She promised to keep in contact with both of them, before waving as the duo saw her disappear inside the plane.

For two years, they kept close contact. Damian used every opportunity he had to hop on a plane to visit his friend in Paris. As the nineteen-year-old touched ground in France's capital, that frizzy December morning, it was with determination on his heart. There was no beating around the bush anymore. He was going to confess to Marinette. Even if she didn't like him that way, it would have been fine. He would never stop visiting or being her friend because she rejected his feelings. That was something cowards did, and Damian Wayne was a lot of things, but never a coward. He, however, turned out to be one of the lucky ones whose feelings were reciprocated by the one they loved. That night, standing next to the Seine, Marinette had said she liked him too. Damian couldn't be more excited about starting a new chapter of his life, with her by his side.

More holidays came and went. Mari accepted a scholarship to a university in Gotham for designing, and now the couple was living together. They got a very nice apartment in the middle of the city, close to both the university campus and Wayne Tower, where Damian had started to help out Tim in the family business.

His Angel couldn’t have been more excited when he offered to take her shopping so they could decorate their new home. And he honestly didn’t feel the need to complain even 5 hours into skipping from store to store, arms full of bags.

Once they got back, they immediately put their hands to work. He still hated Christmas carols, but maybe, just maybe, seeing the woman he loved hanging stupid and colorful ornaments on their tree while humming, made him hate them a bit less.

The lovebirds adopted a routine and executed it to a T multiple times over the upcoming years. Marinette took care of the tree while Damian went around hanging those dumb garlands that he now kinda liked. They reminded him of his Angel teasing him while pretending it was a feathered boa. It had been a hilarious sight. His absolute favorite thing to do was to call his beloved to him, only for her to step under the mistletoe he had just put up. She would always roll her eyes at his stupid demeanor before kissing him senseless. No matter how many times he did that, Marinette would humor him. And once they pulled away, she would always have a smile ready for him. The kind of smile that could blind you if you looked at it too hard.

The kind of smile that could easily light up an entire room.

The kind of smile that made Damian wish it had been him that fateful night.

The world hadn’t deserved to lose her. And she hadn’t deserved to go.

God, he missed her so much.

Most of what he had on his mind about the incident was a patchwork of other people’s memories. His own memories didn’t manage to survive the shutdown that overcame him when his brothers showed up at his door, all of them sporting pained and scared expressions. It was a cold and dark evening in Gotham, most people having already retreated into the warmth of their homes. Marinette hadn’t. The only thing he could clearly remember from earlier that night was seeing the snow slowly fall outside as he waited for his Angel to come back from her dinner with Chloé.

A drunk driver, they had told him. The man fell asleep in front of the wheel and drove straight onto the sidewalk where she was standing, waiting idly for her blonde friend to come back with their hot chocolate.

Damian had lost a part of himself that day. Those who were close to him worriedly wondered if he would ever be able to heal from it.

They hadn’t had the time to start decorating yet that year.

Despite his family’s best efforts, he completely secluded himself. The boxes full of Christmas spirit had been waiting in the middle of the living room for the young couple to break into them yet again. Ready for another holiday season of making new memories, as well as remembering the old ones. They stayed right there. Unopened. Inside the empty apartment Damian hadn’t dared step into after that night. His father had insisted on having him stay with them, and he had no energy to even try and fight it. In his numbness, he ignored everything that happened the following month.

Bruce had someone clean the apartment regularly, but leaving it untouched otherwise. Marinette’s family took care of the very private funeral they held, agreeing to have her stay in Gotham where she had decided to spend her life. Damian had attended, he was sure of it, they said they had dragged him along. However, he sometimes still doubted the image of her in a white gown, laying there on a casket, was real. His beloved had looked beautiful even then.

The following year was not easy. Ten years with Marinette had gone by in the blink of an eye. One could argue it was a lot of time, but for the 26-year-old Damian, it hadn’t been nearly enough with his Habibti by his side. She was his anchor in the stormy sea that was his mind. He had been her sword and shield whenever something or someone made her doubt herself.

That was all gone now.

No anchor.

No one to support.

He was on his own.

But slowly but surely, his stubborn nature surfaced. And had decided that it was enough. It refused to let Damian wither away. Not willing to throw away everything the woman he loved had worked so hard on. Marinette had made him want to be a better person, and he was not going to dishonor her in that.

That’s how that December afternoon had found him standing in the middle of their living room. Having a staring contest with a giant tree.

Even if it had taken him longer than in previous years, he had managed to put up all the usual house decorations. Although he couldn’t help but feel the mistletoes were mocking him whenever he walked under them and there wasn’t a smile, or a roll of the eyes, or a kiss for him. After some hours, the only thing left to decorate was the tree. But there was no Marinette to decorate it. Which left just Damian to complete the job.

One by one, the ornaments his fiancee had picked with the utmost care all those years ago were hung on the branches. At the time, Marinette had said they were a promise. For as long as they had each other, they could have these as a reminder of all the good moments. She had made it her mission to, no matter where they went on holiday, or if they were just celebrating a special occasion, buy a little ornament for their tree. It had stuck with them. Birthdays, anniversaries, promotions, important moments. They all had their commemoratory trinkets.

It took him some minutes to gather his thoughts and himself together, but he did eventually start. With every little decoration he put up, he began to feel his heart become lighter and lighter as he relived the memories they each carried. Memories of the great times they had spent together. Having finished with those, wrapping up the tree with lights proved to be the easiest task he had taken on so far, they were just lights. But now he had to finally face the most challenging part: the star.

Damian didn’t know how much time he just stood there, twirling the silver star in his hands. He reminisced about how every year, whenever it was time to finish with the tree, Marinette would seek him out happily. She used to drag him along and wait for him to hoist her up by the waist so she could finally wrap up her work. He always teased his Angel about not being able to do it herself, since she had indeed been the one to pick the tallest tree for their house.

Thinking of her brought a sad smile to his face, as well as some resolve to his brain at last. A moment later, the star was standing tall and proud in its place, looking down at him.

“There you go, Habibti. It’s done.”

Tears welled up in his eyes as he smiled at the photo he had previously balanced in between the branches. A photo of them on their last Christmas together under the tree on the morning of the 25th.

He was still sad.

He still missed her with every fiber of his being.

But, as he glanced into those beautiful blue eyes he loved so much, Damian could finally feel how the weight that had found home on his chest for the past year alleviated, leaving nothing but a dull ache in its place.

He took it as a sign, and hope bloomed in his heart.

May Marinette remember him wherever she was, because he was sure he always going to remember her. And with a last look at the picture in his hands, he finally knew.

He was going to be okay.

And there it is! Day 3 is done! Thank you all so much for reading and leaving so many lovely comments, both here and on Ao3. I cannot explain just how happy those make me <3 Hopefully I will have enough time to write at least something tiny for day 4, so see you tomorrow!

Tag list:

@tbehartoo @daminette-december2019 @vixen-uchiha @18-fandoms-unite-08

#daminette december #damian wayne #marinette dupain cheng #marinette dupain-cheng #daminette #day 3 #tw: major character death #damian x marinette #miraculous ladybug #liswrites

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