#it's just about 7 months until my birthday which means it is the right time to start pre-planning what birthday gift i wanna get for myself

[amyispxnk]

My Kind of Woman

Chapter 6: Don’t Leave Me in the Dark

Series Masterlist || Previous Chapter

Series summary - Your song captivates Joel the second he hears you that night in Jackson, but he struggles to work up the courage to confess his feelings. With some (very heavy) encouragement from Ellie and Tommy, you two get closer and closer until he finally thinks he’s ready.

Chapter summary - An overnight patrol leads to the resurfacing of some old wounds.

A/N: why did i almost cry writing this wow i don’t think i’ve ever written something quite so angsty ever. And i don’t even think it’s that angsty. whoops

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: fluff, pet names, angst, violence, death, mention of suicide attempt

DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.

“Alright guys! Good work today, I’ll see you next week.” You grin, waving your students goodbye as the bell rings, signalling the end of the day.

It’s finally Thursday, which means that you and Joel will be going to the guitar store on your patrol, where you hope to find some stuff for Ellie’s birthday.

As you walk to the stables, you mull over the thoughts of some other gifts for the teenager, in case you don’t find anything there, before Joel greets you.

“Hey, sweetheart, you ready to go?” He smiles softly, biting back an even larger grin at the way your cheeks flush from his words. He’s found himself acting more confidently with you, even being able to tease you with this pet name nowadays since he discovered how flustered it could make you.

“Yeah-” your voice comes out slightly shaky, and you clear your throat. “Yeah. Let me just go get May ready.”

You feed your mare an apple before checking your bag and equipment, mounting your saddle and riding out of the gates with Joel.

The trail is much nicer at this time of year as spring slowly fades into summertime. The sun shines down on the pair of you and birds sing around you. It’s picturesque, and almost makes you forget about how the world is today, taking you back to a simpler time where you could walk outside your door without fear of being shot or torn to shreds by the end of the day.

“So anyway, we’re gonna head down here for a bit and then take a left. The store is in this little town we found a few months back.” Joel comments, breaking you from your thoughts.

“Alright.” You hum, and the two of you continue making your way there.

At around 7, you reach the little town, tying your horses up near the outskirts and grabbing your guns before heading deeper. Joel tells you that they weren’t even sure if the place was clear when they first came here, so it probably won’t be now. You should be ready for anything.

Hopefully it’s not as bad as that Route D patrol, you think to yourself as you crawl through rubble and make your way into the building.

That all-too-familiar feeling of unease settles into your bones as the darkness envelops you, dust floating in the air around you, made visible by your flashlights.

It’s pathetic, but you really don’t like the darkness. It’s scary enough when you can see what’s coming for you, but when you don’t know? When the unknown is all that surrounds you wherever you look?

You think that it’s worse.

Your eyes settle on Joel beside you. Even though his gas mask is on, you see that he’s looking at you, checking that you’re okay. His presence always makes you feel better, you’ve come to notice.

“Let’s do this.” You say, determination coursing through your veins, and he nods, leading the way.

As you walk down corridors, scanning rooms and closets, you find that the most remarkable thing in the building so far has been a decaying old body which has been swallowed by a cluster of cordyceps. Certainly not a promising sight, since it means that you’re bound to encounter some infected sooner or later, but you hope that the numbers aren’t strong.

Just over an hour later, you’re thankful to be right, having only encountered half a dozen runners, which you and Joel took down fairly easy.

“Hell yeah! Look, there’s some guitar stuff-” You start, forgetting yourself slightly in your excitement, causing a clicker from a stray closet to come barrelling through, charging straight for you. It jumps on top of you, causing you to scream, starting to fight back when Joel pulls his revolver out and shoots it thrice in the head. He tugs you out from beneath its now limp body.

He pants heavily, eyes wide as he looks at you.

“Are you bit?”

“No.”

He gives you a once-over before shaking his head, letting go of your wrist.

“You could’ve died. Fuck. Y’need to be more careful, can’t go around yellin’ like that.” He mutters, scoffing before walking off.

What the fuck? Why did he seem pissed off at you now?

“Jeez, sorry for almost fucking dying, Joel. I’ll be sure to not do it again.” You huff, going to the other side of the room to start searching for some stuff for Ellie’s guitar. You find a packet of strings and a pickboard with an intricate floral design on it that you think she’ll love. You’re pretty satisfied with the turnout, and pocket these items before heading back to Joel.

You’ve cooled off from the previous encounter, still a little annoyed from how he spoke to you, but not having the energy to fight over it. You’ve noticed the sun slowly starting to set, your detour to the store adding an extra few hours to your patrol and meaning you’ll likely have to spend the night here. You really don’t want to be arguing throughout it.

“Find anything?” You ask quietly, coming to his side. He hums in response, handing you a pick he found.

“Could probably carve somethin’ into that. Make it a little more unique for her, ‘f you want...” He says, trailing off again at the end.

“Oh, that’s a great idea! Could you?” You smile, excited to make the gift even better for Ellie. She’s special to you - why would you have gone to all of this trouble for her present, after all?

“Sure.” He nods, appearing uninterested in arguing and moving on from it by now as well.

He’s about to turn to leave when you speak up again.

“We’re probably gonna have to spend the night, Joel. Look outside.” You tell him, and sure enough, the sky has gone from a pale blue to a deep orange. You won’t make it back to Jackson in time, and you’d rather not be riding in the darkness.

“Yeah, reckon you’re right. Y’got your sleeping bag?” He nods, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Yes I’ve got my sleeping bag.” You scoff, rolling your eyes playfully. “I’m always very prepared, Joel. You know this.” You tease, kneeling down to untie your sleeping bag.

“Sure, darlin’. Then you’d know we should secure the room before setting up the camp. Since you’re always so prepared.” He smirks, and pink tints your cheeks once more.

“Yeah, I was just- you just said to get the bag out so I just.. Whatever. I’ll secure the room.” You mutter bashfully, making him laugh. That laugh was worth the embarrassment, you decide as you stand up to help barricade the doors and windows.

You finally sit down around a little cooker just after the sky goes black, an owl hooting in the distance, wind rustling the leaves outside. It’s oddly calming.

“Thanks for earlier, by the way. I’m sorry for shouting. Was stupid.” You offer quietly, unable to meet his eyes over the stove, instead zeroing in on a piece of ravioli in some 20-year old Chef Boyardee.

“No, I-” he sighs, “Shouldn’t’ve gotten all annoyed at you, either. I’m sorry. Y’were jus’ excited, sweetheart. Nothin’ wrong with that.”

“Yeah, I guess. Thank you, anyway. You totally saved my ass. And you brought me here, too. I haven’t even thanked you for that. If I didn’t have you, I think my gift for Ellie would’ve been so shit.” You chuckle softly, and his lips curl into a smirk.

“I know, I know, you’d be completely lost without me.” He teases, and you laugh a little harder, giggling and hiding your face from him.

Moments like these are why you love being with Joel so much. Laughing so hard that your entire body floods with warmth and your stomach hurts by the end of it. It’s a welcome feeling in these times.

Wait. You love being around Joel? Your brows furrow as you have a conversation with yourself in your mind. You 100% just used ‘love’ and ‘Joel’ in the same sentence. That’s a scary, dangerous path to be going down right now. Just keep it chill.

Joel doesn’t seem to realise your internal struggle, getting up and wiping his hands on his jeans before taking your can and putting them to the side.

“Alright, I think y’should get some shuteye now. I’ll keep first watch. Night, sweetheart.” He says softly, feeling an unfamiliar but comforting feeling blooming inside of him at the thought of spending a night with you. Even if it’s just for patrol, it has him thinking about the potential future of your relationship. Maybe it could become more.

“Goodnight, Joel.” You say quietly, getting in your sleeping bag and facing away from him. You go tense when he turns the stove off, the room plunging into darkness. He doesn’t know of your fears, you realise. In fact, you don’t know much of anything personal about eachother at all.

A few uncomfortable and anxiety-inducing minutes later, you finally relent, sighing and rolling over to face him.

“Joel?” You say quietly into the night, eyes searching for him as you adjust to the darkness.

“Yeah?”

“Can you- can you put the light on? I know it’s a waste of power but.. I just can’t really sleep in total darkness.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and you want to shrivel up and die. He probably thinks it’s a stupid, irrational fear. Being afraid of the dark in a world like this is pathetic, you think.

“Yeah, course. I didn’t know, sorry sweetheart. Y’gon be okay?” He soothes your mind, his low voice putting you at ease.

“Yeah.” You mumble, and he turns the light on before it goes quiet again.

You keep tossing and turning for a good five minutes. Then ten. Then fifteen. Fuck. Why are you so restless tonight? You guess that it’s because you haven’t slept on a patrol in a while, especially not in someone’s presence.. especially not in Joel’s presence.

You sigh frustratedly. Maybe you should just take watch instead.

“I can’t sleep. Let me take first watch instead. You rest.” You grunt, moving to get out of your sleeping bag.

“No, darlin’, you should sleep. Is somethin’ botherin’ you? Anythin’ I can do t’ help?” He offers, eyes soft and large as he gazes up at you from his seat on the floor. It makes your heart swell even more at his caring nature.

“It’s okay, Joel. Just sleep.” You say quietly, clearly not prepared to back down now. He sighs deeply.

“We can take watch together, yeah? I don’t… I just prefer bein’ awake out here.” He murmurs, and it’s only half of the truth. He actually just wants to make sure you’re safe. That, if you accidentally fall asleep or something, he’ll still be awake to protect you.

“Okay. If you’re sure.” You say, yawning softly as you take a seat on his right side. He turns back to face the window, and your eyes fall on that scar again, the one which lies at his temple.

“Hey, Joel?” You whisper. He doesn’t even blink. Did he not hear you?

“Joel? Joel.” You say, a little louder now. He finally turns.

“Are you deaf or something?” You tease, but he doesn’t smile back.

“‘M sorry. I- yeah, kinda.” He responds, a little gruff.

“Oh shit. Sorry.” You say. He was kinda old, you realised. Not that much older than you, but still.

“‘S okay. I uh.. It happened near the start of the outbreak. In a fight.” He mutters, unsure of why he even told you that.

Well, he does know.

It’s because he wanted to tell you the true reason, but that’d probably scare you off, or weird you out. He can’t get that personal with you after only a few months of talking. For some reason, your presence just comforts him like no other, and he feels like he’s known you for years, like he can tell you everything, but you also know everything already, anyway.

“Damn. How’d you make it through the outbreak half deaf?” You murmur, genuinely curious now. That must’ve been why he always takes the left side in almost everything you do on patrols. Clearing a house? He’ll start on the left. Riding along a trail? He’ll listen out for anything along the left side of the path. You had your own suspicions, but this proves it.

“Dunno.” He shakes his head, gaze growing cold as his mind goes elsewhere, eyes getting wet as he recalls all he felt after losing Sarah.

You notice this, and start to panic a little. Shit. You’d asked for too much. You’ve brought up something sensitive unknowingly, and he’ll resent you for it.

You can’t just sit here and let him cry though.

“Hey, it’s okay, Joel. You- you can talk to me. Y’know I’m always here for you.” You say softly, turning to face him a little better. He turns his head and meets your eyes. For some reason, seeing him upset makes you want to cry too, resulting in your own eyes getting a little misty.

He clears his throat before he speaks.

“Had a daughter.” He chokes out, surprised at how hoarse his voice sounds.

Your heart almost stops. Had. Ellie wasn’t his kid, but he used to have one.

You try and think of what to say. I’m so sorry, Joel. That’s terrible, Joel. It’s a basic response, and you feel like it wouldn’t help. For once, you find yourself unable to navigate the situation.

“Scar ain’t from a fight. ‘S from me. Few days after Outbreak Day, when she-” he cuts himself off as his voice breaks, eyes squeezing tightly together.

You don’t know what compels you to do it, but you wrap your arms around him. He doesn’t reciprocate for a moment and you panic again, wondering if that was a bit bold, especially in his emotional state. But then his arms come around you, and he lets you in. He bites back the ugly sob that wants to escape his chest, instead only allowing a few silent tears to fall. You sniffle as you feel them on your skin.

“It’s okay. I’m here.” You whisper, heart breaking as he cries quietly.

“Sorry. That.. was a bit much.” He mumbles, pulling back a little and clearing his throat after a moment, realising he’s supposed to be closed off and not let anyone in, not expose his emotions or feelings or thoughts, but you shake your head.

“Everyone has their demons, Joel. You shouldn’t be afraid to let yourself feel, especially around me.” You murmur. Maybe you should share your own past. You don’t want him to feel alone.

“You wanna know why I’m so afraid of the dark?” You begin, and he doesn’t protest, so you take a deep breath and continue.

“Lost my brother a few years back. Maybe a year before I got to Jackson. We were actually trying to find the place, travelling through the night, and we had to cut through this mall. There were infected roaming outside, and even though we knew that the mall could have raiders in it, we didn’t wanna take on a dozen clickers. So… we start wandering through this dark mall. No lights, no windows, and we only had one flashlight. He went in front and I was following, but- but I knocked something over. And then we heard voices in the distance. They said that they would check out the noise.” You pause to collect yourself, trying to prepare mentally as you recount what happened next. “They said that.. That if they saw anyone to just shoot them. All I remember was that it was so dark, before we saw the flashlight on a rifle. I barely had a chance to think before my brother grabbed my hand and ran blindly with me. We tried finding the exit but- just when we saw the light, he got shot. It was in his stomach and-” You cut yourself off with a quiet sob, trying to continue. “He just crumpled. The last thing he told me was- was to leave him. To keep going for him. I could hear the men coming, but I was still trying to pick him back up or- or something. Then I saw the man aim his gun at me and I panicked and I ran. Like a coward.” You can’t stop yourself from crying now, unable to say any more.

“Oh, baby…” He whispers, pulling you closer and letting you cry. You whimper at his touch. When was the last time you properly cried like this? You’ve been so used to putting on a mask that when you finally let go like this you don’t know what to do with yourself.

“I just- I feel so guilty. I don’t deserve to be happy and safe in Jackson without him. I should’ve died that night. I knocked over the fucking boxes, I-”

He shushes you gently, recognising what you actually mean, knowing the feeling all too well - and knowing you don’t deserve to feel like that.

“Don’t say that, sweetheart. He would’ve wanted you to live and be happy here… Don’t ever say that.” He says, quiet, but firm in his tone.

You sniffle, exhaling shakily. His words don’t totally convince you, but you know deep down that he’s right. He would’ve wanted you to be safe. He would’ve rested easier knowing that he was able to protect you in the end, that it was all worth something.

“I miss him, Joel.” You whimper.

“I know. I miss my girl so much it hurts. It never gets easier, does it?” He says, to which you nod, burrowing further into his side as you yawn softly. You cried yourself to exhaustion.

“Just sleep now, okay? I’ll be here. We’ll keep the lights on.”

You just nod, too tired to respond as your brain finally powers off, and you fall asleep.

He sighs, stroking your hair as he looks back to the slit in the window. He always knew. There was no way someone could truly be this happy on the outside, and really feel it on the inside. He wishes you did feel it on the inside, though. The pain of losing someone you love was one of the worst pains imaginable - he had the scars to prove it.

The next morning is quiet, but not awkward. You both exposed yourselves last night. Even though he said way less than you, you know that your levels of vulnerability vary greatly and you both showed eachother your rawest feelings and shared your darkest memories, deepening your relationship further.

“You ready to head back?” He says after you’ve packed everything up, and you nod.

The journey back starts off quiet, the two of you still deep in thought, before you finally pull yourself back together a little - enough to have some normal conversation.

“So, you got a party planned for Ellie’s birthday?” You ask, looking over at him. He’s on your left again, and you try not to think about why, now that you know the true reason.

“I dunno. Was gonna do somethin’ at the Bison, but I’m not sure yet.”

“Joel!” You gasp playfully. “Her birthday’s only a few weeks away! You gotta let me help you plan this party. I’ll make it into every 16 year-old’s dream.”

He gives you a teasing look, and you roll your eyes. “Trust me, Joel. I got better taste than you, that’s for sure.” You argue, and he relents.

“Fine. If she hates it, I’m blamin’ you.”

“Challenge accepted.” You snicker, hiding the bubbling excitement inside of you, knowing you’ll be spending even more time with Joel over the next few weeks.

Trying to ignore the fact that you cannot fucking wait.

Thank you sm for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated <3

Next Chapter

Tags- @mermaidgirl30 @tuquoquebrute @joelmillerisapunk @pascals-doll @casa-boiardi @konigslittleliebling @xxx-silhouette-xxx @hannah9921 @friskispunk @orcasoul @roryfuckedurmum @s0meoone

[tojisnexfwife]

Sweet lies part two

Pairing •Toji x gn!reader

Warnings• Angst!, Cheating, suggestive (they like lowkey make out), manipulation, UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIP!, Cursing. Lmk if i forgot any!

Word count • 1079 words

A/n • I had this pre written ever since i put out the first part but was so hesitant on posting it LMAO! Enjoy! Masterlist is pinned!

You knew life after the honeymoon phase was rough but nothing could’ve prepared you for the drastic switch in you and Toji’s relationship. About two months the after you guys got married is when you realized the mistake you made. Your days went from him coming home from work and showering you with affection to him coming in with an inaudible hello. You were confused on what you could be doing wrong. He was coming home to a clean house with food on the table, a bath prepared and you all dolled up for him, just how he liked it. This went on for months and throughout those months he’s just been coming home later and later. The man who was once coming home every day at five now walking through the front door as late as ten at night. It didn’t bother you until your 26th birthday.

You woke up excited to celebrate your first birthday as a married woman. For your birthday last year Toji went all out so you couldn’t help but let your expectations be high! Toji wasn’t there when you woke up, which was normal because he usually leaves extremely early in the morning. You spent your day pampering yourself to the max, expecting to maybe go out later. Soon enough five o clock rolls around. You sit pretty and patient on the couch, telling yourself he’s just running a little late. You wait… and you wait.. sending text after text to your husband every hour.

Hubby💍❤️

5:30pm

Y/n: Hey babe coming home soon?

6:15

Y/n: Toj idk what you have planned but i’m super excited! see you soon❤️

7:23

Y/n: Hey is everything okay??

8:54

Y/n: Hello?

9:46

Y/n: Toji it’s almost 10 where are you?

10:27

Y/n: Toji?

You send your last text with tears falling from your eyes. You hate to think he forgot your birthday. It can’t be. He just got caught up in something. It has to be. You check the time one last time. 11:03. You then tell yourself you need to go to bed. As you stand up from the couch the door opens and the man you’ve been waiting for finally shows. You do nothing but stare at him, tears mixed with mascara running down your puffy cheeks. “The hell happened to you?” he says, taking off his shoes, tie, and blazer. He begins to unbutton his shirt, purple marks adorning his chest. That was in that moment when something in you just… snapped.

“Toji, what is today?” you slowly walk towards him. He shrugs, scratching the back of his head. “Look doll, i’m beat. Can we talk tomorrow?” he begins to walk towards the stairs that lead to your shared bedroom “No. Absolutely the fuck not.” oh crap. did you just say that? he stops in his tracks and turns to you. “Excuse me?” Shitshitshitshitshit what do you say? why did u say that? “Toji i asked you a question. What. Is. Today.” you keep up the tough girl act, too deep to back out now. “Y/n.” he walks closer to you but you back away “Toji today is my fucking birthday. Today is my birthday and i’ve been home all day thinking my ‘husband’ was going to at least come home on time but you were out fucking some bitch!” You begin to yell, crying harder than you were before. “The fuck are you talking about?” You weren’t stupid, you knew he was cheating but who were you to say anything. You were nothing without him. You didn’t want to ruin things. You can’t lose him. “Toji, i know you’re seeing someone else but i at least thought you would have some type of respect or decency to not do this to me on my fucking birthday.”You’re falling apart in front of him.

The silence is strong. He walks towards you and wraps his arms around you, holding you close. “Things just haven’t been right with me, i don’t know why i do the things i do. You know how much you mean to me baby, i never want to hurt you.” i never want to hurt you. Those words replay in your mind. He brings his hands to hold your face, wiping your tears with his thumbs. “You know I love you and only you, right?” you wanted to yell at him. You wanted to kick and scream but something in you made you believe every word he was saying. Instead of doing any of those things you just nodded. Shame rose in you but it all started to fade away when his lips connect with yours. You know this isn’t right, this isn’t healthy but that doesn’t stop you from wrapping your arms around his neck and letting his hands wander. “I’m so sorry baby.” his lips travel to your neck. You try to hold back sounds but he knows just what to do to get it out if you. “Gonna let me show my girl how sorry i am?” you just started at him. not wanting to say yes but you didn’t want to disappoint him by saying no either.

You have to draw a line somewhere. “I think i just wanna go to sleep…” Removing your hands from him and stepping back. His looks confused but he doesn’t press further. Is it bad that part of you wishes he did? You wished he would’ve showed some kind of kind want, not just wanting to fuck out of pity. You know why he didn’t tho, he already got his fix of pussy for the night and it didn’t come from you. What a shame.

That night you couldn’t sleep, you were up all night silently crying. Is this really what your life was? You had lost yourself in this relationship. Your 26th birthday was a wake up call. The next few days were rough, he was just coming home later and later. Not to mention he wasn’t even trying to hide his affairs, He started to be careless. Not bothering to cover the scratches or hickeys that covered his body, leaving his phone open when you could see messages from the multiple girls and having panties and various other items in his car that didn’t belong to you. It’s like he was trying to hurt you, but isn’t that what he said he never wanted to do?

[gunsandspaceships]

Review of Official MCU Timelines: Marvel Cinematic Universe Guidebook

My (unofficial) but logical (the right one) detailed timeline of the Phase One

Review of The Old Official Timeline

This is the review of Phase One dates from Marvel Cinematic Universe Guidebook: The Avengers Initiative.

Note: Fury's Big Week events and dates will be covered in a separate post.

Correct dates are highlighted in blue, and incorrect ones - in red.

Iron Man:

Pages: 7, 18, 24.

✔️ The guidebook starts with contradicting the time periods from the old timeline: the first timeline of the MCU told us that 6 months passed between Tony escaping the cave and "I am Iron Man". The guidebook confirms my conclusion that these events took place within less than a month (May 2 - May 25, 2008), and that "days" rather than weeks or months passed between the Charity Ball and the day Tony fought Stane.

Pages: 10, 22, 27, 66.

❌ We know that Tony was born on May 29, 1970. When his parents died, he was already 21 years old. And until May 29, 1992, he was still 21. The movie doesn't say he became CEO of SI when he turned 21. It says "at 21," so unlike the book, it's not a mistake. Tony had a few months between his parents' death and his 22nd birthday to earn two PhDs. During those months, Stane served as the company's interim CEO. Funnily enough, this stupid mistake will haunt the new official timeline book.

Page 12.

❌ That's not entirely wrong, since it says "nearly", but I did it better. They couldn't work on the armor for three months simply because Tony wasn't able to do it for most of that time. He had to spend two months recovering from his injuries and surgeries, one week creating the reactor and the plans for the armor, and only about three weeks actually building the armor.

Page 19.

✔️ This confirms my conclusion that the reactor change did not occur on Tony's first day home, or even the next day. Tony came home on May 2 and Pepper changed the reactor on May 4.

The Incredible Hulk:

Page 38.

❌ As I determined in The Incredible Hulk timeline, Hulk couldn't have run from Rio to Guatemala in one day. It would take him 3-4 days to get there. Add those days as Hulk to the 17 "without incident" days. So it can't be the same 17 days, but rather 21.

Iron Man 2:

Page 53.

❌ This is what "not thinking" looks like. No, Marvel, there are more than 6 months between May 2008 and May 2010.

Page 57.

❌ It couldn't have been "the next day" because the day after Tony's birthday party was spent with Fury and Howard's treasure chest. That was May 31st (2 days after the party).

P.S. Someday I will look at the other statements (non-date related) in this book, because some of them are truly ridiculous.

Page 58.

✔️ This confirms my timeline, which states that the events of IM2 take place over several weeks, not just one.

Captain America: The First Avenger:

Page 101.

❌ "A year later", Marvel?! From June 14 to November 3, 1943 – only 4.5 months!

Page 108.

✔️ ❌ It's a tough question how long it's been since Rogers went behind the lines to rescue the 107th prisoners. Two options: one day (at least 12 hours of marching) or two days. Clues from the movie fit each of these.

Page 115.

❌ MCU movies are inconsistent on what year this train mission took place. The same movie, CA:TWS, says it was both 1944 and 1945. Tie-in comics Fury's Big Week, say it was no later than 1943 (another reason for me not to take it seriously). This book says March 1945. What we get is that all sources contradict each other. Given the original CA:TFA movie, and both 1944/1945, I can fix this error by saying it was December 31, 1944 - January 1, 1945. Everybody's happy.

Pages 124-125.

❌ A simple typo or the writer forgot the year of the Exposition, which is written on the previous page. It was 1943.

Page 127.

❌ Seriously, Mr. Writer? The guy looks like he's been a drill sergeant for 17 years? It's not even possible to be one that long. Plus he still wears Grade 4 Sergeant insignia, which means he's never been promoted in his "17 years" as a drill sergeant. He is either very bad at his job, which raises another question - why is he still there, or the statement makes no sense. Mr O'Sullivan, or whoever wrote this, Sergeant Duffy's phrase only means that "Nobody's got that flag in 17 years" in general, and does not mean that he was a drill sergeant there all that time!

Why I point this out: This is a good example of contractors taking something from the source material (movie) without using logic. Always use logic, please.

Thor - Thor: The Dark World:

Page 181.

✔️Further confirmation that it's only been two years since the events of the first Thor movie, not three as Fury's Big Week tells us: Thor (November 2011), The Avengers (May 2012), Thor: The Dark World (Fall 2013).

[junedenim]

2009

beneath the boardwalk, part 7 (series masterlist)

secret door

warnings: a tad angsty, a tad fluffy, a tad smutty, a sweet tooth, etc.

word count: 10.5k

Alex and I shared his childhood bed. I spent Christmas and New Year's with my family in Bath, but I made the trip up to Sheffield on the 4th of January for Alex's birthday on the 6th. It was a rather unremarkable birthday but it remains one of the coziest. Alex and I thought about going out to drink but his mum made him a cake. After we ate the cake, we were too tired so we played a game of Cluedo with his parents and went to bed.

After this birthday, I realized I enjoyed Alex's birthday more than my own. My birthdays have had the long tradition of ending in dramatics or sadness or just plain boring. The simplicity of Alex's birthdays has always brought me comfort, maybe because he doesn't want a party. He doesn't want to do anything. He just wants to relax and play Cluedo.

When we went to bed that night, we were practically stacked on top of each other. He offered to sleep on the floor because, although we had done the twin bed shuffle before, it never equalled the best sleep. I denied him and said I would. He denied me so I laid half my body on top of him to not fall off the bed.

I combed his hair back. It had grown out in the desert but was softer than ever. His mum made him get a trim, which tamed up the hair, making it fall perfectly as opposed to his faux sideburn days. "How's 23 feel?"

He shrugged and reached a hand up to push my curtain-like hair behind my ear. My hair was getting long too, which I was thankful for because I didn't want to resemble Alex too much. I had grown my fringe out in the desert. My hair looked shaggier than ever but I kind of liked the roughness of it. Maybe that was the part that resembled Alex's hair. "No different than 22," he said.

"I guess we've passed all the fun ages," I sighed. "We're truly adults now."

Alex smiled softly. "That feels weird. I know we've done all these adult things, but actually being referred to as one is still weird."

"I can always account for you being older than me. That's all that matters."

He shook his head, amused by me. "Those 3 months mean a lot to you."

"Yeah, they must have been the worst 3 months of your life."

"Why?"

"'Cause you were living in a world without me."

He kissed me and then said, "That would truly be." A kiss to the cheek. "Hell." A kiss to the neck. "On." A kiss to the right collarbone. "Earth." A kiss to the right breast.

*

In the latter half of January, the band went on a small Australian & New Zealandian tour. I went because what else would I do? The majority of the tour was for the Big Day Out Festival which was hosted in Sydney, Melbourne, Gold Coast, Adelaide, Perth, and Auckland.

Their first show back in Wellington came with the debut of some Humbug songs, which I had already known of through recording and rehearsals. But seeing "Pretty Visitors" live for the first time ever was life-changing, even if Alex did stand awkwardly with his hands in his jacket's pockets. Like Pinocchio came to life, still not adapted to his new body.

I used the label-comped airfare travel to explore rather than attend most of their concerts. The dates were compacted close together so I was the only one out of our crew that got to defrost from the British winter in the Australian sun.

In February, the band was due to return to California to finish the album. Late one night in Perth, Alex asked me, "Are you coming back?"

It had been a deflected point like most things. Pushed off until someone or something made the decision for me. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to go back to London alone. I didn't want to be in California alone. Ultimately, the business card from Opal stuck in my wallet tipped the scale.

"I think I want to finish it out," I told him.

Excitement flashed in his eyes but he stayed still. "Are you sure? I'll be back before you know it. Everything will be fast. You won't even miss me."

I tugged at him. "Of course, I'll miss you. And you'll be off on tour soon and I like the idea of going with you but you know I can't do a whole tour with you. I have to be independent."

The greatest accomplishment in my life might be Alex's pride in me. I don't know how I earned his belief in me. It was there right from the moment we met and it never dissipated, even when we broke up. His smile flashed with pride then, small, but always proud in the stances I made for myself.

"I know," he said. "And I love being with you but I like hearing what you get up to when I'm away. And it'll be more flexible this time since you're out of school."

"And, maybe, I could get some work out in LA. Just freelance or something. I feel like I just gave up last time and didn't bother with a job. You know, me and complaining."

"Shush, you're opinionated. It's how I like my women."

"Women?"

He corrected, "Woman."

I chuckled and slotted my head on his shoulder. "I think maybe I'll get in touch with Opal. Maybe one day write for the LA Times. Would that make me a traitor?"

"No," he laughed, "just maybe a red coat." The skin near his eyes crinkled up, pleased with his joke. I prayed to make those wrinkles become permanent, for him to live in a lifetime of laughter, specifically from my jokes but I do get a special funny feeling when he's laughing at his own humor. It's like he's patting himself on the back, something he does physically do.

There was a question of giving in too much to Alex. I was chasing a boyfriend through the world, which was okay because I was traveling and exploring too and I wanted to be with him but I always worried about my association with him—clinging too tightly, representing an image of somebody who lived off of him. At times (and eventually), it consumed me.

*

In our rented LA home there was a bay window, which didn't look out on much other than the road and the opposing house. While Alex was at the studio, I sat there and wrote. By that point, I had compiled my essays in a file I called "LA Times." My intention wasn't to submit the works to the LA Times—I had yet to hear back from Opal on any openings—but it was simply something in the works—a digital diary of those past few Californian months.

I had begun submitting work and didn't hear back. I thought of getting a part-time job or babysitting gig, but it felt like a waste of my degree, and Alex had plenty of funds to go around.

Opal and I went out for drinks and it was the first time I went out in LA, independent from Alex. It was fast fun. Opal talked in excessive sweetness but was snarky in response to any disparity toward her.

She seemed so worldly but had never lived anywhere outside of LA. She wasn't any form of a writer but she worked with writers all day and asked if she could look at my work. I was shyly reluctant but she tugged it out of me. Some small 500-word piece I liked.

She gushed about it (and still does) insisting on me giving her more of my writing. I slowly trickled more pieces to her before she accumulated enough to give to her friend, Jackson Ferrera.

Opal began coming over to our house. If Alex was out late, we'd have dinner together. We drink together most Friday nights. We smoked a joint together once and she laughed so much she peed herself.

Opal and Alex had an interesting relationship. Opal paid compliments to his appearance like she did with everyone but it never verged on sexual or romantic. She was an observer like all of us, but she didn't write about it.

She'd also mock him as most girls do together behind their boyfriend's back. All remaining affectionate and loving. The kind of way I talked about Stacey. She was my pestering little sister who was also my youthful partner-in-crime.

"I love your hair, hon!" She said once to Al after he returned home to us watching Glee on the couch.

"Oh." He patted down the sides of his hair as if he forgot it was on his head. "I guess."

He left the room and Opal turned to me and said, "That man can not take a compliment."

I laughed and shrugged. "I've tried my best. I think he thinks you're lying to him."

"Why?!" Opal's mouth lay agape. "I'm not a liar."

I stared at her speculatively. "Everyone's a liar."

"I'm not." She placed her hand on her chest, insisting to me, "My mom told me to never lie."

I don't know if Opal has ever lied, not expansively. Not even little white lies. If you asked her how her day was, she'd tell you honestly. Maybe she fibbed and told half-truths, but she'd never fake compliment you.

She was judgy. On the other side of her kindness was someone who would honestly tell you that you look ugly in that dress. Her job seemed like her destiny, paid to have an opinion because she wasn't designed for fake niceties. I appreciated and needed the quality. It was a confidence boost and a humbling force.

*

For my birthday, Alex took me to Big Sur. We flew up to San Jose and Alex drove us down to our lodge where I fell asleep and woke up 23.

In the early morning, we walked along Pfeiffer Beach where the water was too cold and dangerous to swim in and the wind blew so hard it blinded us. We abandoned the beach, had lunch, and walked Point Lobos, which felt like we'd walked into a dream. The water waved its blues and the wind waved through the trees just right to create the perfect breeze.

"You know," I said, "this is the first trip we've ever been on. Just you and me."

Alex bowed his head and said, "Suppose that's my fault. At least we've done Wicklow."

"I know, but it doesn't really count. We probably wouldn't have gone if we weren't in Dublin." We both walked with our hands in our pockets and it was easy to think of all those talks we'd had before with our hands stuffed into our jeans pockets.

Alex smiled, his eyes covered with sunglasses, and his hair framing his face. "I'm making up for it now. Best I can." He placed one of his hands on the small of my back; a reassuring touch. Alex often felt insufficient and I wasn't the best at combating that doubt. I know he's carried guilt for self-claimed selfishness. If we were both older I wouldn't have tolerated this in the manner I did at that age. I never cared that he wanted things because he wanted me to be a part of them. However, there was always a sense that Alex had to "make up" for what he had done. I don't know if that hurt me or pleased me.

When we finished the trail we had to go back to our lodge because Alex had slipped down a hill and cut a hole into his jeans. Believe me, very funny, I wish I had it to submit to Funniest Home Videos but alas...

Alex drove for the majority of the trip. I wasn't very good at driving in America. It confused my brain. I reached over, brushing a chunk of his hair behind his ear like he had done for me countless times. "You think you're going to keep it long?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Do you think I should?"

"If you like it," I permitted.

He glanced over and gave me a look. "Does that mean you don't like it?"

I hummed. I had never really thought about it. "No. I like it," I decided. "It makes you look older. I think if you had the same cut as college you'd still look like you were 17."

"You don't think I've aged at all?"

"It's hard to tell. I've never been away long enough to notice a difference. What about me? Do I look older?" I batted my eyelashes.

He chuckled at my brazen show. "You look 23 to me."

*

I got a call from Jackson Ferrera a week after my birthday. I didn't know who he was and almost didn't answer the call when it rang at 10:30 AM, still in bed. Alex had left an hour or two earlier, kissing my forehead and unintentionally waking me up. We mumbled, "Bye, baby" to one another before he left and I drifted back to sleep.

I was in the shower when Alex returned home. It was somewhere around 5 PM and a Wednesday and I hadn't left the house once. I was in the middle of washing my hair when I heard the bathroom door open and my worries about this becoming a scene from Psycho dissipated when Alex said, "Hey, honey." Isn't it cute? We call each other honey now. It originated from Opal. We imitated her calling everyone "honey" with one another until we actually just ended up calling each other "honey" all the time.

"Hey," I called out over the shower. Alex discarded his clothes and joined me in the shower. We had started doing that more often too. We didn't often have sex in the shower either. I mean, it did happen, but we decided to shower together more in a chaste quality. Alex has the ability to wash your hair in the same way it feels at a salon. It's complete bliss. "How was your day?"

He was my little dog with his long hair getting wet in the shower and sticking to his face. He let the water run over it completely before pushing it back and out of his face. "Good. Fine," he answered. "I feel like I've been hunched over all day." He pecked my lips, a domestic greeting.

I reached down for my conditioner and told him, "I'll rub your back before bed." We might as well be the old married couple with aching backs and a stay-at-home woman willing to soothe them. I don't like to view us as old-fashioned. We were unconventional. British desert Californians, who were a musician and a pretend writer.

Alex took the bottle out of my hand, taking the conditioner into his hands, acting his role of hair masseuse. "You're my savior. I'd have a humpback if it weren't for you."

I shrugged as I turned for him to rub the product in my hair. "I like taking care of you. Shall I have dinner on the table too?"

He scoffed, "God, no. I'd be dead of food poisoning if you did that."

I laughed because I wasn't offended by not having any cooking skills. Alex understood that and has never forced a change on that. "You can't blame me. My parents don't know how to cook either."

"Your parents don't know how to do a lot of things you can do. Excuses, excuses." He clicked his tongue and I giggled as he squeezed one of my butt cheeks. "What did you get up to while I was gone?"

I sighed, turning back around to face him, a big smile plastered on my face. "Okay, well, don't freak out because I don't know anything yet."

Alex immediately grabbed my hands, nearing a panic. "What?"

I pushed his hands down. "Calm down," I instructed. "It's not that big of a deal." He relaxed and awaited an answer. "So, I got this call from someone Opal knows. A guy named Jackson Ferrera—"

"Oh, god, Janie, you're leaving me, aren't you?" Alex joked, turning his head away in dramatics, pushing me away, unable to bear the sight of me. "I always knew it."

I slapped his arms away. "Will you shut up? Listen." He looked at me normally and nodded his head. "Opal gave him some of my writing and he's this literary agent and he wants to talk about maybe him representing me—"

I was interrupted by Alex's excitement. "Are you serious? Like a book or something?"

I was reluctant to say anything, not wanting to get his hopes up, my hopes up like speaking it aloud would cancel out any possibilities. "I don't know yet. I haven't even met the guy yet."

"But you're going to?" Alex clutched my waist, his grip filled with giddiness.

I nodded, trying to fight this big smile. "This Friday at noon. And I don't know what it would be yet. He could just recommend me for some stupid literary agent job."

Alex quickly shook his head. "No way, Janie. You're going to make a book."

"I'm not going to make a book," I insisted.

But he fought back, confident as always, "You're going to make a book."

"Don't jinx anything. He might just help me submit some of my pieces to some higher-up magazines. Who knows, by the end of the year, I could be in the New Yorker?"

He scoffed, "You're better than the New Yorker. They'll be begging for your work."

I bumped into him. "Don't say that. I'd love to write for the New Yorker. I'd be happy writing for Playboy at this point."

Alex wiggled his eyebrows. "They do have some really good articles."

I pinched his side and told him to shut it. He wrapped me up in a hug and a dramatic rain—well, shower—kiss. Everything felt like it was landing in place and California did really seem to be a place where dreams came true and all that nonsense that I'll make fun of for the rest of this book but for this one moment, I'll believe to be true. Then, Alex got shampoo in his eye.

"Ow! Fuck, fuck, fuck." He clutched his left eye and doubled over. The water and shampoo suds still pouring down his face.

I grabbed his shoulder and asked if he was okay. He insisted on being fine but his hand remained on his eye and he grinded his teeth down before I managed to pull him out of the shower without tripping.

I sat him on the toilet seat, dripping wet, and shampoo still a mess in his hair. "Let me see," I said, drying his face off.

He waved me off. "No, no, I'm fine." His hand remained on his eye with a refusal to remove it.

"Al," I said and tugged at his wrist. He dropped his hand and slowly opened his eye, bloodshot and pink. "Oh, Jesus."

"What? Did it fall out?" He joked.

I snorted a laugh and began searching for eye drops. "It's dried up, that's all."

Then came the struggle of actually getting the eye drops into Alex's eye because he refused to keep his eye open. He kept muttering, "Ow, ow, ow" as each eye drop flooded his eyeball.

Later that night, after I fell asleep in front of American Idol, Alex must have moved me to our bedroom or I slept-walked there. Alex said I did that a few times. When I woke, the red digital clock on my bedside read 2:32 AM. I dug my face into the pillow, pissed I had woken up in the middle of the night. I turned my head and came to the realization Alex was missing if he was ever in bed, to begin with.

I padded across our cold wooden floors barefoot in the dark before I saw the back patio light on and the faint shadow of Alex. I stepped one foot out and saw him, notebook in lap, cigarette in hand, gazing out onto the dark backyard, deep in thought.

"You shouldn't be smoking with your eye," I said hoarsely.

His head tilted back to look at me and he had a soft smirk on his face. "I'll live. Just needed something to relax."

"Take an edible then."

He vibrated off laughter and tapped the ash off his cigarette. "I'll find a different excuse."

I kept one foot outside and one inside, asking, "Do you want some company?"

He shook his head, insisting, "No, no. You sleep."

I was hesitant to move. "You sure?"

Alex nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Just finishing up some writing. I'll be in soon."

"Okay."

I returned to bed and fell asleep before Alex came back but when I woke up in the late morning he was asleep beside me. I wondered what Alex wrote. The beginning verses to "Stuck on the Puzzle" or if he never picked up his pen to begin with? Maybe I read too much into it but Alex never had qualms about me keeping him company while he wrote and our late-night smokes were ritualistic at that point. I believed he thought about something else. Me. Something too personal to share.

With both of us, those secrets that we kept from one another were exclusively worries. I can't help but think Alex knew what was eventually to come from my contact with Jackson. I can't help but think he worried. He always worried, suffering in silence. I screamed about everything and he sat with it, let it stir and brew for days, months, years. It was a habit of our 20s. But Alex always seemed to know, a habitual psychic and I was the palm in his hand.

*

It didn't end up being a book, not at first, but we did a trial period in which I submitted to Jackson who began shopping my pieces around to publishers. I was terrified and didn't tell anyone other than Alex and Opal for fear it would fall through and fail. Jackson felt confident and I supposed that helped, although I couldn't comprehend a world where I wrote a book, even though, for years, I had already written books in my notebook.

I tried not to think about it much. We were coming up on Alex going back on tour again and the question of whether to stay in LA rose, which was really just whether I would. I didn't like the thought of being in LA without Alex. I found the city rather unappealing but I didn't know where I'd return to. London was an option but I don't know how at home I would've felt there. It's cheesy to say Alex is my home because he's a person and I found that statement to be rather exaggerated. In those days, I just felt more comfortable wherever he was, maybe because I was so aimless myself, but I knew that I finally found a direction to go in.

One of my pieces did end up in The Village Voice. Alex paid to have a print copy sent, and he framed it. It embarrassed me so much that I stuffed it into drawers when we had guests over.

One night, we went to a party on some random Monday and sat on the uncomfortable fancy chairs, drinking cocktails. Alex had an Old Fashioned, I had a Cosmopolitan. It was an affair with some elegance, though I can't remember what it was actually for. We both vowed not to get drunk because we couldn't be hungover on a Tuesday.

I had my hand on Alex's knee and he had his arm around the back of my chair. I think the dinner they served was chicken but I don't remember. It wasn't very good either way.

"Do you think I should get my Master's?" I asked Alex.

He sipped his drink with his left hand and lightly tapped my shoulder with his right. "Why would you do that?"

I shrugged and picked up my Cosmo, trying to be Carrie Bradshaw in hopes it would get me a job as luxurious as hers. Or maybe just the clothes and the apartment. "Something to do. I like the idea of going to school here."

Alex's brows furrowed as he looked over at me. "But you hated school."

"That's not true."

He chuckled. "J, you complained about it all the time."

Maybe I did. I don't remember. It's like when people have babies and they forget how hard labour was so their bodies trick them into having more kids. "I liked the structure of it. Plus, a Master's would allow a more flexible schedule and you'll be away on tour soon so it'd be something to do."

Alex shook his head. "I don't think you'd like it."

I frowned. "Maybe I would."

"I mean..." Alex searched for what to say. "I just think you're getting somewhere with your writing and you're running away from it."

I rested my head on my hand. "Maybe."

Alex reached out and pushed my hair out of my face. "Whatever you do you'll be great at. Just do what you love, okay?"

His smirk put me on edge and I raised my eyebrow. "What? Like you?"

"Huh?" His face looked puzzled, worried that he had offended me somehow.

"I love you so you want me to do you?"

He threw his head back in laughter. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Janie."

*

The whole Master's idea felt foolish. So, I decided to do it, except it was March and way past the time for applications. In the meantime, I tried to figure out what I would do while Alex was away. I felt I should have wanted to leave Los Angeles after all my bitching and moaning, but something drew me to stay. There was a new friend in Opal but I didn't have any job prospects through her or Jackson. Freelance could fit but I didn't want it to fit. The idea of me writing a book burrowed more inwardly to my mind as Jackson stopped mentioning book deals and directed me more toward staff writing jobs to get my name out there.

But I felt that LA had wrapped its warmth around me and suffocated me long enough to want to stay. I liked America and I liked the city, but I also had a visa to worry about. I was over on a tourist Visa and since all work I had done was freelance, I was paid as if I was located in England still. I could fly back and stay for another 180 days or I could get a work visa, which meant getting a job.

That's when Condé Nast appeared. Jackson had unofficially become my unpaid job seeker, doing it solely for me as a favour. I suspected he felt bad for not achieving a book deal and decided to help me out. The Condé Nast position was for a product writer and reviewer. The issue was I had no history with a full-time writing job, but either Jackson had connections or they felt pity for me, too, so I got the job.

So, it wasn't LA, it would be New York.

Alex loved the idea and boasted about it to everyone, kissing my cheek after each statement, and squeezing me to his side. As for New York, he simply said, "It's your turn."

He would be away on tour anyway, so it didn't matter much other than that he would crash at whatever housing I picked in New York. We flew to New York in June. I had never been to New York in the summer. I had never been with Alex in New York.

Usually on our excursions, I dragged Alex around the town and up the hills. In New York, Alex dragged me to the Strand, Chelsea Hotel, the Mudd Club, the Transit Museum, and, most importantly, the turtle pond in Central Park.

Beside the box turtles and red-eared sliders, Alex and I rested against a rock as they padded their way shoreside. He wore a baby blue shirt and picked at his jeans, his mannerisms the same as when I spotted him across the room. "Do you remember when you used to have writing on your jeans?"

He looked up at me, smiling, pushing his hair behind his ears, pounds of fluff. "Yeah."

"What was written on them?" Those blurs of red markings and my wish to know those depths of his soul as if what he was really thinking was written on the knees of his jeans.

He shrugged and almost shamefully said, "Just song lyrics. Strokes and stuff."

"You wrote on them?"

"Yeah."

"I always figured that your mates had written on them. My Converses used to be covered in Joanie's handwriting and hearts." I hadn't thought of her for a long time. Nothing in America reminded me of Wakefield and so Joanie never came to mind.

Alex broke me out of my thoughts, asking, "Can I write on your trainers?"

I raised my eyebrows. "On my new shoes? Can I write on your jeans?"

"Sure." He pulled a pen from his pocket and handed it to me. His quickness made me hesitate but I pulled the pen from his fingers and thought of what to write. I could've drawn a penis but I wasn't that cruel. The black pen was faint against the dark blue denim but I repeated my sketching until the letter was clear enough. I wrote my name because I couldn't think of anything else. What's more beautiful than a person's name? Gross.

Alex seemed to like it, a grin upturning on his face, and an eyebrow raised against me. "Why don't you draw a heart around it?"

I rolled my eyes. "Do you want me to put an arrow through it too?"

He laughed but said, "Sure." I didn't add the heart or arrow. It would be too cheesy and ruin my beautiful cursive name. I returned the pen to him and he tapped his hand over the writing. "With me every step of the way."

I giggled, both embarrassed and charmed. "You gonna get it tattooed?"

I joked but he took it shockingly seriously. "Do you want me to?"

I bolded my eyes and tilted my head. "Stop," I chastised him. "I'm not trying to brand you. I won't even let you write on my shoes and you're willing to get me permanently on your body?"

"Those are nice shoes," he countered.

"You've got a nice body," I argued.

"It'll add to it."

Whether it was sweetness or idiocy, it did feel like love. I raised my legs and plopped my feet in his lap. "Alright. Write away on them then." They were just trainers anyway and his name in a heart with an arrow through it was worth much more.

Afterwards, we toured an apartment. Previous apartments we had toured had been far above my expected salary. Alex had this need to contribute to the apartment's rent despite not getting a break from touring until late October. I had a need to pay rent for myself. I never lived on my own and I felt this apartment should be my apartment, even though Alex's stuff would be there. 

Alex understood all of this, although still pushed to contribute some to the rent and, well, I'm never one to deny financial assistance so we made a deal that he would pay me for storing his stuff while he was gone and I would pay for the rest. This all meant those apartments next to Central Park were out of the question. So, we headed downtown, Petula Clark style. 

"You know, this area is called SoHo too?" I asked him as we walked down Thompson Street. He shook his head and I explained, "It's because it's south of Houston Street. So. Ho."

He chuckled and nodded. "It'll be like a little piece of home with you."

It turned out to be. I found a place on Prince Street for a reasonable amount. 1 bed. 1 bath. Windows that drenched the floors in sunlight, a big closet, and—the thing I was most excited for—a bathtub.

On our first night there, Alex and I attempted to do the romantic having-a-bath-together thing. I purchased a bubble bath solution from Target and Alex got a bottle of wine from Wine and Spirits. We felt very American in both stores. 

"I can't remember the last time I took a bath," Alex said as he sank into the warm oasis.

"They used to just spray you down with a hose, right?" I joked as I sipped on my wine.

Alex cupped his hand in the water and sent a splash my way. "Hey! You got water on the floor. And in my wine." I frowned at the bubbles resting on the surface of the wine.

"I'll get you another glass," he said as he stood.

I reached out and grabbed his leg. "Don't leave."

At my request, he sank back into the water. "Here. You can have mine." He stuck out his half-full glass. I leaned forward and kissed the back of the hand that was holding it. My version of thank you as I took the glass from his hand. 

He stretched his legs out and we kept poking each other until I took Alex's feet into my lap. I lightly rubbed on the left one, his big toe sticking out above the water. I felt sinking in myself and refused to look at him. I was becoming too soft. "I'm gonna miss you."

Alex sighed. I knew he hurt more than me. I missed him and we loved each other the same but I knew he had to deal with two kinds of pain. His and mine. We had to deal with missing each other and he had to deal with the guilt. I always told him it was ridiculous to feel guilty because I never held any resentment toward him for going away. But I guess we never properly addressed all that ugly stuff from the past, only in fights, and we never concluded properly, just in exhaustion.

But I think we both knew that communication would be the difference this time. The band was more established. I was more established. I think I would have hated being alone in our LA house without Alex but something about New York, feeling it was mine, made me feel a little freer.

"I'm sorry," he said.

I shook my head. "Don't apologize. I'm proud of you."

"Proud of you too." I looked up to see the big smile on his face. You know, it heals anything.

I slide deeper into the tub, the water covering my neck. I was bare-skinned and my insides were beginning to feel the same. "I'm nervous."

"We'll be fine," he assured.

I shook my head. "I know. I'm nervous for me. Being alone and the new job."

His hand found my leg in the water, stroking it. "You'll make friends in no time and you're a whiz."

"But what if I hate it?" I sounded wobbly like I was about to tip off the edge.

Alex, the calm force dragging me through life, said, "Then, on to the next thing."

I held a smile to him. One he returned. "My mother would say I'm being picky."

"Your mother who drinks for a living?"

I held offence when Alex spoke of my mother. The things he said were true but my whole life I’ll feel the need to protect her. At that age, I still felt destined to unknowingly become her. In that way, Alex was insulting future me. "Hey! She does other things. Probably."

Alex laughed and pulled his feet from me, curling his legs. "Alright. I'm cramping here." He rose from the tub, swishing the water around, peeking at the edges.

I gasped. "Even if the foot rub I gave you?"

We moved out of LA pretty quickly but yet again transporting all your belongings from one side of the country to another was a pain. We enlisted the help of friends but in New York, we were on our own for the most part, other than some hired movers. We weren't getting that couch up the stairs.

The band did a few festivals in Europe in July before returning for a New York show at the beginning of August. I was only a few weeks into my job and it was the fulfillment and structure I needed, although I wasn't doing much writing. I was fine with working my way up, setting an achievement, and moving forward. It was a mostly new idea for me.

After their concert, we did the ritual of bar hopping. I invited my new friend, Tasha, and her boyfriend to join us, however, her boyfriend ditched her after the show, which led her to get very drunk and weepy and therefore pulled me away from any time of catching up with the group. Although, they seemed very consumed by the drama.

"I don't mean to put this all on you," she cried to me. "But he said he was gonna buy me a drink tonight and I—" she was taking away into sobs.

"I'll buy you a drink," Matt offered.

"Really?" It was in fact her fifth drink. She had quickly consumed the first 2 from the rounds and pulled the other 2 from me. "I really liked him, you know. I love him, I think."

"We know, sweetie." I felt bad for her but all the crying was becoming quite tiresome, especially with a girl you had only known 2 weeks in the setting of an office space.

She sat up straight, wiping away that wetness on her face when Matt arrived back with a drink. For the time being, she calmed her waterworks with a gulp of liquor. "You wouldn't do this to Jane, would you Alex? Why can't I find a guy like that?"

I chuckled, "Alex ditches me all the time."

To the side of me, Alex's head snapped to me. "What?" His face was etched with a furrowed brow and a frown.

I turned to him wide-eyed and confused. "What?"

"I don't ditch you."

My mouth created a slight opening in bafflement. "Yeah, you do. Or did." I turned back to Tasha. "Either way, they're all assholes, you just have to find the asshole that fights you."

"Ha. Asshole." Jamie laughed.

While Jamie found humour in the situation and Tasha found slight comfort, Alex found offense. "You think I'm an asshole?"

I turned back to him. "Yeah. Don't you think I'm a bitch?"

His eyes were wide at the word like we were kids taught to put coins in the swear job. His response was quick. "No."

I tried my best to give it to him in an explanation that would placate him. "Okay. Well, I get on your nerves or whatever. Either way, you just have to find the guy that fits you. Now, I think we should get you a cab." Tasha nodded with a sniffle. 

After I stuck Tasha in a cab, I stayed outside to have a cigarette. I had a weird feeling in my stomach that I wasn't sure if it was from the alcohol or something emotional. I had a rash on my left leg that I labelled as being from stress but I wasn't sure what it was stress from. I felt a pressure on my chest and the perfect solution was a cigarette.

It wasn't a smoke signal for Alex to join me although I should have thought that considering our history and the perfect view from our table out the window to the street. He came out halfway through the ash and walked with hair in his face and hands in his pockets.

When he stepped in front of me, I reached out and brushed his hair out of his face and wondered if he felt this way—this feeling of caring, uncovering someone for your gaze—every time he did it for me. I tucked it behind his ear and peeked the small smile underneath that shaggy head. It tickled me, exposing a silent laugh from my lips. 

"You really think I'm an asshole?" He asked. His tone was playful but I knew he was worried I considered him to be one of them. That breed of man who brushed women off after they got their goods as if he hadn't loved and cared for me since the moment we met.

I held my palm over his cheek, holding my hand over his fire, rubbing the lobe of his ear. I just wanted to hold him forever and I felt like crying at the thought I couldn't. I don't know where the sudden emotion came from but I suppose by this point it isn't shocking to find myself crying, especially after 3 drinks outside a bar. I couldn't speak so I shook my head and kept the overwhelming pathos at bay by the rhythmic stroking of his ear. 

"I missed you," he said.

I cut any further words he had off with a shake of my head, a dismissiveness I needed. "I don't want to talk about missing each other anymore." The gates fell and I dropped my arm away from his shoulder, picking at my nails as my voice quivered. "All I talk about is missing you."

"Jane."

Exasperated with myself, I shook my head and looked away not to cry. "I just want to enjoy the night." I looked at him, listening attentively, eyes trained on me. "I don't want to think about you leaving tomorrow night and I'm fine, trust me, but I feel this ache all the time and I don't want to feel this ache while you're here and I don't want to talk about this ache because I know it's mutual so let's stop talking about it and pretend that this is just any other night in our lives and we're in Sheffield, grabbing a pint with our mates or something." 

I laughed wetly. He reached out to me and brushed my hair behind my ear and it made everything feel alright. "This feels pretty Sheffield, doesn't it?"

"What?"

He shrugged and took out his pack of cigarettes, plucking one, and placing it in between his lips. "Light me up, Janie, would ya?"

A smile tugged my lips and I dug into my purse one-handed for my lighter. He leaned forward, the end of it so close to me I could take a bite of it. I lit the flame between us and then to his cigarette. He took a puff before stepping back to exhale, his eyes stuck with mine. 

"I love you. I feel like we don't say that enough," I told him. He stood away from me but I felt so close to him like we had wrapped ourselves up in a fort of blankets, not standing in the humid August streets. 

"You don't have to say it for me to know it. Hasn't that always been our MO?" In wordless whispers and those longing stares, we had always spoken with some underlying language that didn't even make perfect sense to us, it was just there. 

"Yeah. Still, I want to remind you."

He chuckled and stepped closer, hooking his arm around my neck, and pulled me beneath his chin with a long gaze down at me. "I love you too, Janie. And all the rest."

"The rest?" I questioned.

His Adam's apple bopped and he looked up at the sky for a moment as if God was giving him the all-clear. His eyes reintroduced themselves to me. "There's this weight of love inside me that I'll never be able to express to you. It's just there, a consuming being that flares up whenever you're near me or I think about you. It's this constant. I've had it since I thought your name was Jeanie and I still don't know how to talk about it or what to call it—all this unexpressed love."

"It seems like you did." I tried not to sob. I thought of Tasha, likely crying in a cab, and I know I've always been a fortunate girl and I've been called lucky since birth, but I never felt like I truly won anything other than meaningless games until I was brought to Alex. I thought of all those missteps I could have taken to have never met Alex about how many things had to go a certain way for me to be at that first gig. How—I guess—I have to thank Matt, although that part is reluctant for me to say (a fear it will go to his head). But I kept it all inside and didn't tell Alex this because I think this is part of that weight of love I still can't fully express. "Are you sure it's not a tumor?"

He laughed at me and kissed the top of my head. My cigarette had been scuffed out against his jeans so we shared the rest of his before Alex suggested, "I think we should head home." I had never confessed how romantic I thought the idea of going home with Alex was to me but I have a feeling he just knew because he always just knows.

He took me by the hand and took me back inside the bar where we said goodbye to our party of people and I smacked a kiss on the cheek to each of them. They've always felt like brothers-in-law to me but I found as we grew older and closer, they were my friends too.

We headed back to our apartment, taking the A train. Alex held my purse for me and we sat in a sweaty, non-air-conditioned subway car, and it felt as though we were in London on the tube, praying for a gust of wind to come in through the little window and provide momentary relief. 

It was too hot to touch each other's skin so we held a small space between us and knocked knees with one another. Alex sat hunched over, his hands sitting on the top knee of his crossed legs. I leaned back against the plastic orange chair. The train was mostly empty but we filled its quietness with laughter. Halfway through the ride, that sentimental fuzzy part of me took a picture of him. I still owned a flip phone for the sole purpose of having a slideout keyboard, not known for having a good camera, and the photo was mostly unrecognizable to anybody but me, which might be why I liked it so much. 

I’d take these photos often and flip through them occasionally when I was waiting for the subway. I printed some out and pinned them on the walls because I didn’t want to buy picture frames. I folded one up and put it in my wallet because I always loved that Alex had a photo of me in his wallet—a tiny crushed-up photo of my graduation portrait, ugly, but he had pride for it and me).

Without Alex, the apartment had succumbed to my mess. There were clothes tossed in the corner of the bedroom, the desk was covered in papers, books, and more clothes, and the kitchen was dealing with a major dishes problem.

The hour was late but we were both determined to soak up as much time with one another as possible. We undressed from the day and dressed for bed, but sat on the edge of our bed over the covers, talking, talking, talking. Two frogs croaking at one another from across the pond. All we needed was Charlton Brook and we'd be our old selves again. 

"I never thought I'd like work. I'm not in love with this job but I come home and my feet ache and I love it. I like feeling I worked for something," I told him. "I think I need firm direction in my life otherwise I turn into a mess."

Alex looked pleased but all-knowing. He knew all these parts of me before I did. "You were raised without it so you crave it in other aspects." He leaned back on the bed, putting his arms behind his head, so casual in every sense of the word.

"Who needs a therapist when I have you?" I asked. He laughed but I was serious (both good and bad). He's an observer, he just knows these things from one look at you. He reads you completely and then acts like it's nothing. I feel I know Alex well, better than anyone, but not like he knows me. I've always felt there was a piece of Alex that was off-limits to everyone, even himself sometimes. There's a corner of him I will never reach. For him, my thoughts have always been a nude model on full stark display.

Alex turned onto his side and reached a hand over to me, clasping it with a tight squeeze. "You happy?" It was a quick check-in, the reassurance he needed that he wouldn't leave me totally screwed up and alone. Alex often had the feeling of needing to "rescue me," which was partially true but he took too much on sometimes, bearing the weight of both our emotional states, an overwhelming thing that put so much consequence on the question he asked like I wasn't just answering for me, I was also answering for him.

I squeezed back to ease his anxieties. "Yeah. You?" He stayed silent and looked around the room once, startling my heart. He tugged on my arm once as a smirk spread on his face. "What?" 

He tugged again, this time harder. I stared at him quizzically until he pulled once again, yanking me down to lay on top of him. He communicated with his lips, both silent minus gasps. He turned us, hovering over me, flat on my back. We got under the covers.

*

The following night we stayed in and ordered a pizza before having sex on the couch. After, I laid on Alex's chest, our nude bodies up against each other and I do apologize to anybody who sat on the couch after, I swear it wasn't that dirty. His hands were solid on my back, studying the lower curve of my spine, hitting a spot that made me stretch like a cat after a nap.

I sighed as the tension released from my back and laid back down on his sternum. "We're awfully vanilla," I said.

Alex snorted this big ugly snort of laughter that I find so cute like a baby learning how to breathe. "What, like chains and whips?"

I laughed and raised my head up, my chin pressed on his skin, staring up at his tucked head, awkwardly propped up on the armrest. "No. Georgia just told me this story about doing it on the roof of her building."

An amused Alex asked, "You want to head up on our roof now?"

He motioned sitting up but I pushed him back down. "We have an exposed roof. I'm not getting the cops called on us."

"Where's the fun in that if there isn't a little risk of indecent exposure?" He joked.

I giggled and thought of making a joke about getting visas revoked for public nudity, instead, I told him, "We're hiding tonight. Besides, I don't need all that for sex to be fun with you."

He bucked his hips up against mine. "'Cause I'm so good in bed?" He raised an eyebrow and wore a taunting smirk that made me want to slap and kiss him. How infuriating to be so intoxicated by him.

"'Cause you love me," I teased, tapping his nose. I slobbered a kiss on his cheek, which made him groan in disgust like it was his mother doing it in front of all his friends. "And you're going to take me to get ice cream because I'm thinking about vanilla ice cream now."

"From Morgenstern's?" He asked me, even though he knew the answer.

I sat up from him, noting his eyes on my exposed breasts (sometimes, it's nice to know a man is still a boy), and hummed, "Yes, sir." Morgenstern's sat two blocks up on Houston and in the past few months, I had developed an addiction to their bourbon vanilla ice cream and considered it my special treat after a day of work. Alex was partial to salted chocolate, which I always thought was a good balance with mine, especially since he'd let me steal scoops off his cone and mix it with my cup of ice cream.

Alex went out in jeans, a T-shirt, and his Doctor Martens. I went out in sweatpants, a camisole, and my flip-flops. It was 11:40 and only 2 blocks away! 

I was charged up and kissed him behind his ear as he paid for the ice cream. We must have been foul to look at with our hair unbrushed and a careless woman hanging off her good-looking man. I often had little care about how I looked at night in New York. Everyone in New York, one way or another, was loathsome to watch at night so I had no problem with the idea the cashier might have hated us for coming in right before closing, dangling around as we waited. Besides, Alex left a tip.

My hands clawed around Alex's shoulders and I bounced on the balls of my feet as they scooped our ice cream. We ate our ice cream on the small bench they had outside the parlour. Alex ended up with smears of chocolate on the corners of his lips. It was pleasurable to see him so untidy, it would make you laugh and kiss his lips, transferring some of the residue onto you like lipstick.

Alex chased me up the stairs of our apartment building with the menace of pinching my ass to coerce squeals out of me. We caused a ruckus, loud off of our sugar high, but, at the very least, not stumbling drunk up the stairs like some of my other neighbors. Alex caught me at the apartment door. I had no escape, he had the keys. He cornered me and gave a hard pinch working his way up from my butt to my stomach where I was ticklish.

"Mercy! Mercy!" I surrendered. He called off his attack, ready to head inside for some explicitness. 

He put the key in, turned it, and then it snapped. He held the bow, the shaft lodged in the lock. "Fuck," he cursed.

Panic set in as Alex fiddled with the doorknob with no luck. "Fuck. Are we locked out?" I asked.

He picked at the lock, muttering, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..." 

It soon became clear that we were stuck. It was nearing 1 AM, I desperately had to pee, and Alex had to leave in 6 hours. "Can we kick the door in?"

"Are you suggesting either of us is strong enough to break the deadbolt?" Alex stood up straight, tossing his head back in exhaustion.

I shrugged. "I don't know. You're pretty fit." He was proper chuffed by this, a slight puff in his chest. "I could try."

"With your flip-flops?" They were the cheap kind. I bought them at 5 Below. "If we break the door the whole building can walk in."

Not knowing the number of any emergency locksmiths, I called 911 and waited at the bottom two steps of the staircase facing the front door. "I guess this is what I get for eating too much ice cream," I quipped.

"No such thing," Alex excused. 

Shrouded in quietness and a reputation of lacking patience, I laid my head on Alex's shoulder and would have fallen asleep if my bladder wasn't prepared to burst. Alex tapped a beat on the denim-covered knee and we didn't talk, just stayed close, two beings huddled together for survival and companionship.

Firefighters came and had no luck removing the broken key so they busted into the apartment. We couldn't lock it but we could at least close it. I rushed in for the bathroom. I laid down on our bed and waited for Alex while he used the bathroom. I fell asleep before he returned.

In the morning, Alex nudged me awake. He was fully dressed and by the light stumbling in through the window, I knew what it meant. "I fell asleep. Why'd you let me?"

"Figured if you fell asleep while I was in the bathroom you were pretty tired." Over the covers, flip flops kicked off the edge of the bed, in the two minutes he was away.

"'Kay." I was still fiddling out of sleep when Alex tapped my arm, an insisting action to make me stay in bed. "Let me walk you out."

"No, stay in bed, it's fine." He kneeled beside the bed, forcing my hand.

"You sure?"

He nodded. "I'll see you in a little. Yeah?" He kept it short. It was the easier way.

I rubbed my eye, knowing I wouldn't be going back to sleep as much as Alex hoped I would. "Yeah. I'll try to get off sometime in September."

"Don't feel pressured. I'll see you in Philly, right?" That would be over a month away, 30th of September.

I nodded because it was easier than speaking. "Call me when you get to Boston."

He donned an assuring smile, leaned down, and kissed me. He left and I made myself a cup of coffee and drank it and sat with silence.

*

On a Wednesday, after a day of work, I took the train down to Philadelphia. I had never been before and part of me wanted to enjoy all the tourist things about it but I had limited time between 30th Street Station and heading to the Electric Factory. 

However, I made a pit stop along the way, getting off the subway, and meeting Alex at the Reading Terminal Market for a late lunch/early dinner. It wasn't the Art Museum or Independence Hall but it allowed a cultural indulgence of the city. 

Alex wore a jean jacket and didn't look like a man about to front a sold-out show. We bumped shoulders with passersby as we made our way through the narrow passageways. Alex got a cheesesteak, which I found disgusting. I ate a soft pretzel and assorted candy from a Pennsylvania Dutch candy shoppe.

We managed to find a table wedged between dad with his two kids and a group of high schoolers. Safe to say, we had trouble hearing each other over the chaos but we communicated through shared observations, reacting with a stare at one another as the father began to yell at his son or a laugh at the high schoolers mocking one of their teachers.

We hadn't really spoken until we left the building, stepping out into the beginnings of a crisp autumn evening. Alex bought me ice cream from Bassetts (as if I needed more sugar) and gave the change to a group of busking drummers by the door. 

I grabbed Alex's attention at a stoplight as I dragged out, "So..." 

He chuckled at my solicitation, dragging out his own, "So..."

The light turned green and we stayed in step with one another. I initiated the conversation but I had no follow-up for my So-ing. Sometimes, I just wanted to look at him but walking and staring is a difficult practice. "One of my pieces is going to be in this magazine n+1. Something I wrote back in LA, Jackson submitted forever ago."

"Is it going to be printed?" He asked.

"Yeah, but I think you can read it online."

Quickly, he shook his head. "I want the physical thing."

I laughed. "Always one for physical media, Al." It was clear with the record collection I was storing in a small New York apartment. You had transferred this habit onto me as I went out to purchase the New York Times from a street kiosk instead of reading it online.

"It'll be easier. I can read it on a plane, on the bus, on the toilet."

I hit his shoulder light-heartedly. "Alright, I'll get you the print."

*

At the end of October, Alex returned from Tokyo for a small tour break. We fell into a cycle similar to that of our London days. I went to work, Alex stayed home. We went out to dinner sometimes, and we occasionally went out for drinks with my work friends, but more often, we just stayed home. It was a cocoon and I think we both preferred to stay still with one another after distant months apart.

I drank coffee in bed one morning, a Saturday or Sunday with no rush for any obligations, fine with retiring to a day in our shoebox. We were both still in our pajamas. Alex sat on the edge of the bed, facing me, strumming his guitar. I was on my laptop, scrolling through someone's blog, but mostly watching him.

These unguarded moments with his head slumped over his guitar. His hair covered his face almost completely, only able to distinguish his nose from the rest of him. The ends of his hair held these perfect curls that I envied. He's been perceived to be a cool, uncaring person but I've found Alex, especially during these early years, held such a concern about coming off a certain way, whether considered cold or cool. A long-held hatred for unwanted watching, even from me.

His muscles had suspended into relaxation finally. I found he acquired this rest most often with a guitar. He held a light strum, sometimes humming along, sometimes writing a note in his little notebook.

I thought I was catching an unaware Alex working away, much like our first year of knowing each other. Then, he looked up and said, "If you're going to stare at me, you might as well help me." He tossed me his notebook with dashes and scratches that to the untrained eye looked like a chicken scratch of nothing.

I read it and this time I could feel him watching me. I poured over the words as he had done with his writing and when I finished I said, "I feel so inadequate next to you."

"Shut up," he insisted, both through his support of me and his own insecurity.

"It's a beautiful song." I handed the notebook back to him. "A very beautiful love song." I crossed my arms, smiling at him.

"Well, you know."

"Yeah." Because I always did. This loving, hideous, unspoken language of ours.

 "Good inspiration. You gave me the title." Alex took months of crafting before giving something exposure, like formulating a fine wine. 

"Well, you wrote the rest of it," I reasoned. "Is it for the new album?"

He shrugged and examined his own work. "I don't think so. Maybe just for you and me."

*

a/n: this is pretty much for goblinontour. the next parts will come much sooner, we're approaching the thick of it... oh, and if you see any mistakes, no you didn’t.

[capitalisticveins]

1 your hc were great tysm!!! (i'm now just picturing FL frantically wrapping Caelum’s horns first time they see them break LOL) and 2 (some of) my favorite characters (cuz i'm indecisive) are Gavin (hence my title), Guy, Lasko(first character audio i listened to was one of his I don't remember witch one tho),Milo, and Sam (to name 5 lol)

~ Deviant anon ／(^ x ^)＼

(ps if you want to write any headcanons for any of the characters above you can use this ask as a space for that! (no pressure ofc!) :> )

Im so mad I wrote this and Tumblr ate it fUCK MEEEE

oh well you win some you lose everything

TRICK!!!

— Gavin rarely returns to Aria partly due to his Steward, Ophiuchus. Aside from not acknowledging his boundaries, Ophiuchus doesn't call Gavin by his chosen name, deliberately calling him "Vindemiator" instead. Ophiuchus finds it disrespectful that Gavin would change his name, so Gavin refuses to pay them any mind until an ounce of respect is given to him. (Which won't be for a while...)

— Guy was always told that screenwriting takes luck, and that he'd never be able to make it to film because of that. People rarely believed in him. Years later, with his script still not pitched, he's starting to think the people who doubted him were right, and he just wasted thousands on a degree that means nothing.

— Lasko's parents were insanely strict during his childhood. They controlled everything about him. The kind of friends he had were controlled, his curfew was always no later than 4:30pm, he couldn't use entertainment technology until the weekend; and even then the hours were limited. If he ever tried to argue against this, his parents would yell and threaten him until he was teary-eyed and sobbing. When his powers manifested, this behavior only amplified tenfold. He was homeschooled from 7th grade to 12th, and was rarely allowed outside at all.

— Milo was always in love with cats, and expressed love for them ever since he was a toddler. For his 13th birthday, Marie scraped up enough money to get him a tiny calico cat. Milo loved her with all his heart, for the year he had her. About a year later, Milo came back from school and couldn't find her anywhere. Marie hasn't seen her, but told him that she might come back soon. After a month, Colm was home long enough for Milo to find him and ask if he'd seen her. He admitted that he sold her to a family for money a while ago after running low on cash. Milo tried contacting the family, and Marie went to go find them, but the family said she was violent and Colm wouldn't take her back when they initially called, so they gave her to a shelter. He contacted the shelter and they admitted to euthanizing her a few weeks ago.

— Sam had an older brother he admired more than anything when he was younger. They had a 7 year age difference, but they would hang out together whenever his brother was free, since no one outside of his family wanted to interact with Sam. After his brother turned 18, he moved states overnight, all the way north. Sam tried calling and texting him multiple times but he never answered. The night before running away, he called his brother one last time, and he picked up very angry. He was yelling about how annoying Sam was, about how that family, including him, ruined his life, and to "Leave me the hell alone!". That was the last time Sam spoke to his brother, and to Sam, his older brother is just as rotten as everyone else in his family. Except for his grandma of course.

[pichiru]

The Sun Also Smiles - Chapter 4

Chapters - [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

Summary - With Mabel and Dipper's 16th birthday party on the horizon, Grunkle Stan takes to online dating to find a date for the party. Things start to get real weird real fast.

Word Count - 3,035

Pairing(s) - Stan Pines x OC

Genre(s): Romance, Comedy, Mystery

A/N: There is a bit of verbal sexual harassment in this chapter! So please tread lightly if that's something you're sensitive to!

~~~~~~~~

"S-Solanaaaaaa! H-Heeyyyyy," Stan said nervously, avoiding eye contact with her completely. He was looking at every single spot but her eyes or her boobs, er, her body. Fuck.

"Wow. You really are a shy old guy," she giggled, covering her mouth a little. "This is why I didn't want to meet you so soon. I knew that you would start treating me differently immediately."

"N-No! I'm not!" Stan said quickly, looking into her eyes instantly when he spoke. "I just wasn't...expectin to...see ya so soon."

"Ah, so you weren't being a creepy stalker and this is just pure happenstance?" She joked, folding her arms across her chest which made the cleavage in the keyhole of her shirt push up.

Stan's eyes trailed down to her chest then swiftly back up at her face. "Yeah, exactly! Nothin crazy like that. My niece wanted to come here for uh...reasons that aren't important right now."

While Stan was talking, Solana was twirling her hair around her right index finger, which, again, pushed her boobs up into the keyhole even further. She was enthralled by how stacked Stan was in person. He looked like he worked out more than just a couple times a month. His stature was thick but tall of course. Couldn't have been shorter than 6'2. For an older man, that was certainly impressive.

A laugh suddenly came from Stan. "Who's the one eye fuckin who now?" he laughed once more.

Solana shot him a smirk before licking her lips subtly. "Look, I never said I was above doing it," she responded with a light shrug of her shoulders. "You certainly are sexy though. Pictures don't and never will do you justice. And the gold chain? Ooh," she shuddered before giggling.

Stan's entire face was red now. He didn't think she'd be so straightforward in person but she definitely did match his energy at least. He clenched his cane to keep himself tethered to what little bit of sanity he even had left from years of bullshit. She was so very beautiful so-

"Why are ya...so..."

"So...what?"

"Avoidant about bein seen?" he asked curiously.

"I told you. People start to treat me differently when they see me," she said, shrugging slightly.

"Why?" He was so confused about this entire concept. "Isn't it a good thing for a dame like you to get all the attention?"

"No. It's...different. Very different," she replied, a sad tinge to her tone.

Just as Stan was about to ask her another question, Mabel and Maze came shuffling over to him to show him a basket of treasures they found in the store so far.

"Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Stan!" Mabel squealed happily as she practically vibrated out of her skin. "Look, look!" she said, holding the shopping basket up to him.

"Those little trinkets are 50% off to the cutest kid in the store," Solana said matter of factly to Mabel with a genuine smile.

Mabel stopped in her tracks and slowly turned to look at Solana. "Shut...UP!!!!" She screamed excitedly, jumping now. "That's definitely me!!"

"We're literally twins," Maze chimed in, rolling his eyes.

"Fraternal!" Mabel reminded with a cheeky grin, twisting her index finger into her cheek.

"Well 50% off to everyone who's a twin!" Solana laughed.

"Hey, I'm a twin. Does that mean I get the discount too?" Stan chuckled.

"Hmm...I'm gonna need proof of that statement," she said as she squinted at Stan, not truly believing him.

"Hold on!" Mabel said as she pulled out her phone and started looking through her massive collection of pictures. Selfies specifically. She scrolled furiously until she found a selfie with her, Maze, Ford, and Stan. She showed Solana the picture and Solana bent down slightly to look at the screen.

"Oooh, okay. He wasn't lying. Two identically handsome men. Interesting," Solana mused with a purse of her lips as she peeked at Stan out the corner of her eye briefly. "Discounts across the board then!" She nodded and turned to the twins to get a good look at them.

"You two are actually adorable. Like actually," Solana complimented.

"Thank yooouuuuu!" Mabel said gratefully. Meanwhile, Maze was hiding behind his hair, blushing furiously. Mabel nudged him. "Say thank you," she grumbled to him quietly.

"T-Thank you," he murmured shyly as he shoved his hands into his pockets so he couldn't fidget anymore.

"Uh, kids. Are you done shoppin or do ya need more?" Stan asked them. He really just wanted to be alone with Solana for a moment longer.

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..." Mabel droned as she leaned her head back to think.

"You seem like the type of girl to enjoy a good mini cat figurine," Solana surmised. "Am I right?"

Mabel looked up at Solana with big eyes. "Yes..." She said in a serious tone that showed just how excited she was.

"Aisle 21." Solana gave her a sweet smile as Mabel grabbed Maze and drug him over to the exact aisle that was mentioned.

Stan was impressed with how well she handled the kids. She was so motherly and kind. His heart started racing at the thought of her genuinely being interested in him. Her motherly tendencies did something for him. Did he have mommy issues? Fuck.

"You think a lot, don't you?" Solana asked, breaking Stan's train of thought. "Allow me to remedy that," she cooed as she walked closer to him. "May I?" She motioned with her hands that she was asking to touch him.

He couldn't do anything but freeze in place once she moved closer. "Y-Yeah," he stammered, nodding quickly.

Solana smiled at him then stretched up onto her tippy toes to place a kiss at the corner of his mouth, leaving behind a bit of the lip gloss she had on. "Better?" she asked.

Stan had a love stricken expression written plain as day across his face when he processed the kiss. "Yeah. Better," he said in a dreamy voice.

"You're so cute," Solana chuckled. "Haven't you been married before?"

"Nah, I...I got dangerously close but it didn't pan out. It's fine though," Stan said, brushing it off. He didn't want to talk to his new flame about his old flames. Felt weird.

"Something tells me it isn't fine but I'll let it be. For now." She turned to the mess on the ground behind them and began to pick the stuff up. She crouched down and put everything back on the lower shelves from where they fell, humming as she did so.

Stan looked around, not knowing what to do or say to her at this point. He was going to speak but a voice boomed through the store. He groaned in frustration at being interrupted for the millionth time with her.

"Solana!" the voice yelled. "Where are you?"

She sighed and murmured under her breath before standing back up and flattening out her clothes. "Yes, Chip?" she called out, walking past Stan to the end of the aisle where she knew he was going to be.

A lanky, lightly tanned man with perfectly coiffed hair and a pair of black sunglasses walked up to Solana. Even though he had the sunglasses on, you can still tell he was looking at her in a way that would make anyone, woman or not, uncomfortable as hell.

"You look good today," he said with a shit eating grin. "Loving the new and improved uniform on you. What you did with it is so...mmm! You know?" he said to her quietly.

"Chip, I don't have time for you right now. I have a store to run. Your store. You know. The one you opened?" She said as she rolled her eyes at him. "Why are you even here today? You come in on Sundays and Wednesdays. It's literally Saturday."

"I gotta be honest. I wanted to see you," he said, holding his hands up in defense, still smiling that stupid smile.

"Well good for you because I definitely don't want to see you," She said as she turned to walk away from him before he grabbed her arm. Almost immediately, Stan was standing between the two of them, towering over Chip and facing him.

"The lady said she doesn't wanna be bothered. Ya better leave 'er alone or I'll have to intervene," Stan said, standing directly in front of Solana to protect her from even being looked at by that disgusting...

"And who are you?" Chip asked, looking up at Stan, never once dropping that smile.

"He's my boyfriend and he doesn't take lightly to someone touching me," Solana said quickly.

Stan faltered slightly, not expecting her to say that so freely. He immediately regained his composure and looked at Chip sternly, his eyebrows flat, mouth set in a hard line. He wasn't about to show weakness to this...this dickhead.

"Boyfriend? You never mentioned that," Chip said, adjusting his glasses. "Kinda old."

"She doesn't have to," Stan said curtly, cutting him off and leaving no room for ifs, ands, or buts about it. "Leave."

Chip tried to peek around Stan's large shoulders to see Solana but Stan blocked every advance he tried to make.

"I said, leave," he said in a much more firm tone as he leaned down closer to Chip's face.

Chip threw his hands up in defeat. "This is my store after all. I'll definitely be back. Don't you worry about it." He kept that same smile on his face as he turned and left the store. He hopped into his sports car, started it up, and drove away at a blinding speed.

Solana was breathing heavily behind Stan, starting to have a bit of an anxiety attack. Stan swiveled around on his heels to meet her face to face.

"You okay?" he asked in a concerned voice. He didn't know how to deal with his own anxiety let alone someone else's.

"Yeah, I..." She said as she looked down at her clothes in disgust. It was very obvious that Chip had a hand in how she dressed at this job. It was awful for her.

"Are the kids ready to check out?" She chirped, trying to change the subject.

"Solana-" Stan started.

"Don't worry about it. I'm fine," she said firmly. "It's fine. I'm fine. Everything's fucking fine!" she snapped before adjusting her clothes and walking off.

Stan stood there in disbelief. He didn't think negatively about her. In fact, he felt an insatiable urge to protect her. Protect her from this creep, protect her from all men, from everything. Of course he ogled her when he first saw her but he reigned it in the moment he felt that twinge of loyalty to Solana before he knew it was her. He didn't want to be like Chip. He wanted to treat her nicely and treat her the way a beautiful woman like her deserved to be treated.

After gathering himself and flattening his suit coat, Stan walked out of the aisle to go find the kids only to find Solana checking them out at an impressive speed. He walked over to them slowly in silence, not wanting to disturb the flow.

"Grunkle Stan, Miss Solana is giving us so many discounts! I got sooooo many mini cat figurines. She was right. I do love a good mini cat figurine," Mabel rambled excitedly.

Solana was avoiding eye contact with everyone, especially Stan. She couldn't stand to see what he thought of her after that.

"So we're having a grand opening sale for 20% off of most things and then I'm giving you my employee discount of 30% which means you're getting everything half off," Solana explained as she started bagging everything up since she was done scanning. "So your total is $615.03."

Mabel and Maze froze in their places at the mention of that number. They slowly turned to look at Stan who looked completely disinterested in whatever was being said. He was focused on Solana and how avoidant she was being. Maybe she was doing it in front of the kids for their sake but he knew it wasn't that.

Stan pulled his wallet out and opened it to grab a stack of money. He whipped out a couple of hundreds plus a few more smaller bills to cover the price. He handed it all to Solana who took it without hesitation and put it into the register.

Solana handed the bags to the kids and smiled at them. "I hope you have an amazing time creating whatever it is you're creating. I hope to see it floating around the town one day if possible."

Mabel cheesed hard at Solana's words. "Thank yooouuuu!" she said loudly as she grabbed two bags and left the other three for Maze and Stan to take. Maze, being the good brother and nephew he was, took two of the heaviest bags to spare Stan from hurting himself. Or so he thought that's what he was doing.

"Kids, I'll meet you at the car," Stan said calmly, looking directly at Solana who was still avoiding his eye line.

"O...kay?" Maze said as he looked between the both of them then walked off with Mabel towards the entrance of the store. "What the heck was that about?" he murmured to her quietly, making sure neither Stan or Solana heard him.

Stan placed his hands flat on the register table they were at, his eyes never leaving Solana. She fidgeted so incessantly that it made him feel weird for even looking at her.

"I'm sorry," Stan said simply.

"For what? You didn't do anything wrong," she responded, tucking hair behind her ear as she spoke, still not looking at him.

"The way you're actin got me feelin like I did. I'm sorry for interferin."

Solana sighed and looked at Stan finally. "It's not that. I feel..." She groaned slightly. "Disgusting. This is exactly why I didn't want to meet you in person. Yet. I always have interactions like this with men specifically."

"Why?" Stan asked curiously.

"I don't know. I genuinely don't know. It's..." She laughed bitterly and shook her head. "At least you did it in your head and not outright."

Stan's face heated up. He wished he never did that in the first place and she brought it back up again. "I'm sorry about that too. But you know what's funny?"

"What?"

"I stopped cuz I felt this...connection to ya last night and I felt like I was...bein disloyal in this...'talking stage'? Or whatever my niece called it," he admitted, grumbling at the end.

Solana's heart melted at Stan's admission. She smiled at him and reached over to place her hand on top of his. She squeezed it thoughtfully. "Yeah?" She asked with a crooked smile.

His eyes briefly dropped down to their hands touching. "Yeah," he confirmed, leaning forward towards her a bit.

"I mean I should have expected this much from my boyfriend," she teased while giggling.

Stan laughed at her bringing her own words back up. "That...That got me when you said it. I thought I was goin insane when I heard it."

"No, not at all. I wouldn't mind it becoming reality one day," she paused. "Soon." Her eyes dropped to his lips for but a moment but he caught the gesture almost immediately.

"May I?" he asked, echoing her from before things went haywire. His own eyes were wandering over the features of her face. He couldn't help it. Her beauty rivaled even the mermaids he saw on his voyage with Ford.

"Such a gentleman for asking," she cooed. "Of course," she allowed.

He leaned down to Solana until their lips finally met. Their eyes closed immediately to truly lose themselves in the kiss. She squeezed his hand tightly, showing that she was restraining herself from doing much more than a simple kiss. She couldn't help herself and deepened the kiss a little more before Stan politely pulled away from her lips slightly.

"I'd be willin to continue this somewhere private if I wasn't babysittin right now," he whispered against her lips before kissing her a few more times.

Solana hummed into the subsequent kisses, her eyelashes fluttering at the same time. "Got any free time tonight?" She asked boldly, trying to catch her lips between every word she spoke.

"I might. I'll text ya and let ya know. Sound good?"

"Yeah. Sounds good," she said in a hurried tone.

Stan gave her a few more kisses before pulling away completely and fixing his clothes.

Mabel and Maze were standing outside Stan's car with their jaws dropped to the ground. Mabel dropped her bags. They slowly looked at each other in complete shock. They saw the entire encounter.

"Did Grunkle Stan just..." Mabel asked.

"He did..." Maze responded.

"Here he comes, here he comes! Act natural!" Mabel said quickly and quietly. She scrambled to pick up the bags.

When the doors opened, Stan walked through them and looked at the twins in confusion.

"The car was open," he said to them slowly, not completely sure why they were still standing and waiting.

"Oh! hahahaha!" Mabel laughed awkwardly as she scrambled into the car. She didn't really give much more of an answer than that, leaving Maze to pick up the pieces instead. Maze looked at Mabel with an expression that disapproved of her immediate betrayal.

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..." Maze said before he suddenly retreated and got into the backseat with Mabel.

"I thought you wanted to sit in the front, kid?" Stan said as he approached the driver's side and opened the door to get in.

"Naaahhhhh. I decided I wanna sit with Mabel," Maze said quickly with a nod.

"Gotcha," Stan said as he got in and closed the door. He pulled out his keys then started the car up.

"Your old grunkle got a date tonight. So I want you two to take care of each other and Sixer while I'm gone for the night," Stan said as he put the car in reverse and turned around to back out of the spot.

The twins sat in their seats, frozen. A date? They thought to themselves.

[cffeelia]

discography | chapt. 2

I NEED U — k. seokjin

in which bangtan writes their music about you, all 7 chasing you until someone steals your heart.

chapter summary: you chickened out on calling seokjin back, but found the courage to attempt talking things through with your family

chapter warnings: this chapter is a bit shorter so sorry 😭 i got y’all in the next one with the smut tho pls be patient i’m setting the scene 🙏

previous chapter here

unfortunately, the early morning you experienced a weak ago never happened again, and you were already exhausted from school in the first month. most students wait until at least second quarter to start getting ready in their first classes of the day, but you were already hurriedly applying mascara and setting powder behind your scripts in musical theater techniques.

it was monday, meaning the awful weekend you had was behind you now. your tried to suppress all memories of the spontaneous trip to busan you made on saturday, and the random meeting of your older brother as well. turns out he had a new girlfriend, and you only knew it because of who she was.

“jung jiwoo, i’m so honored to finally meet you! hoseok talks so highly of you.” you tried to bow deeper than her to show your appreciation. she was such a loving sister from what hoseok told you, always looking after him and supporting his musical career. “what brings you to busan then?” you asked.

“just family things, i’ve been dating my boyfriend for about six months now so i figured i would come meet his parents.

the two of you walked through the book store together, stopping at the bathrooms while she waited for her boyfriend. you figured you might as well meet him to explain the strange coincidence.

now you’d have to explain to her how you knew him.

“maeum? oh, hi!”

you tried to control your excitement from seeing your older brother for the first time in so long, but clearly he had a hard time containing his. he ran into your arms, almost crying tears of joy.

“oh my god i missed you so much, why didn’t you call?” words left your mouth before you could control them again, and you slapped a hand over your mouth, not wanting to ruin the good mood the two of you were in.

“babe, just tell her. she’s your sister.” jiwoo angrily pointed back to you as your brother hung his head, tears now visibly welling in his eyes. he offered to talk about it with you two over a meal, walk to the restaurant being uncomfortably silent.

you’ve been here many times with family to celebrate your brothers achievements in school, from being selected as class president in middle school, winning a science fair, or being selected as valedictorian, this was the spot to celebrate. even your birthdays were spent at this hot pot restaurant, it was scary to see how much time modernized it.

the bright kids menus at the front desk were now white, they came with crayons for kids to ruin the pretty designs on them. the cardboard cutout of the restaurants pig mascot was long gone, you remember seeing it turned around at your high school graduation meal.

it’s very bittersweet to imagine how time had passed right by you, but there wasn’t time to be nostalgic for your youth now, maybe later though.

maeum and you were always close, he was the only reason you burst into tears that night your parents saw you walking into your apartment holding confetti and merch from one of bangtan’s first concerts.

therefore, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut any longer. he let his words flow, but not as fast as his tears, that were quickly wiped up by jiwoos napkins (your tears as well).

it turns out your parents researched bts that night they scolded you for lying to their face.

“God, is it so much to ask for you to just do something with your life? you know your own mother never got the opportunity to go pursue what she wanted? huh?”

they were more mad at you than anything, but you knew they’d be just as pissed to find out you had a talking stage with one of the members, that’s why maeum wouldn’t tell your parents too much about jiwoos family.

although you’d come to this restaurant on a dark note, tears were wiped away as drinks came along and the three of you got to chatting as if nothing happened between you in the first place.

on your way home from the restaurant, you promised a tipsy jiwoo that you’d come by to meet hoseok again.

“i want you to be my sister in law, because— because hoseok LOVES you! and he— he never stops” she took a breath between her hysterical sobbing, “talking about you, ____! you need to see him again ok i love you! bye!” she walked away, your brothers hand in hers as you waved to them before heading back to your car.

you packed lightly for your weekend trip, you planned to meet up with jiwoo and maeum again tomorrow to meet your family again. maybe the drinks you had in your hotel room affected you, because saying yes to your brothers invitation is what ruined the whole trip for you.

you flattened your skirt out, hoping your mom wouldn’t give you too much about the shorter cropped sweater you wore, but it was all you packed. you made your way to your car, taking the familiar route to your childhood home, for the first time in two years.

stepping out, you rang the doorbell. it’s like your heart was going to leap out of your chest, you had no time to panic as the door swung open barely a second later. it was your dad.

you never knew him too much, he wasn’t absent, just not all the way involved in your life. the most important recollections you had of him were his pats on the back for getting good grades in school, or driving him to the pharmacy to pick up his medicine. he’s had an autoimmune disease since you were about 11 years old, nothing too serious, it just weakened his defenses against colds.

he would get sick so often, that you can barely remember him ever being one of those dads that comes home from work and sits down to have a family meal. just hospitals, long naps, placing trays on his bedside table, and handing him pill containers. thankfully nothing serious ever happened to him, but you never knew if something could. that fact always left you uneasy, which is why you developed a soft spot for your dad.

you weren’t embarassed about the tears that fell from your eyes as he patted your back. “welcome home!” he said enthusiastically. he lead you into the house, jiwoo and maeum greeting you before maeum suggested you help your mom cook. the house was pretty big, and the structure was still the same. you made your way to the kitchen to see your mom cooking on the patio grill.

“mom?” you poked your head through the sliding door.

“oh! good to see you.” she nodded, not making eye contact with you. it was going to be a long dinner.

your parents seemed to love jiwoo, it made you a bit jealous that you didn’t have any smart and gorgeous partner to bring home (yet). your mind flashed back to jin, memories of him studying english for his first trip to america in your apartment.

“what? i’m world wide handsome, ____!” he patted your back while you lost your shit laughing at him.

“seokjin shut up! no you’re not!”

“she hate me.” he spoke into his phone. namjoon’s english was the best of any members, he consulted you regularly for tips but still was pretty damn good on his own.

memories hit you like a fucking bus as you sat at the table, listening to your brothers laughter. if only you had someone to laugh with like him, if only seokjin was here. he would love the grilled fish your mom makes, and your dads god awfully loud belting to the music on the radio.

you could listen to jin sing for hours, never getting tired of his gorgeous voice. on some nights, after you both showered the smell of sex and sweat off yourselves, you’d let jin spoon you. his long, slender arms wrapped around your waist, you felt his chest vibrate while he hummed your favorite songs to you until he passed out.

poor baby works too hard and still finds time to love on you, you didn’t deserve him. you never did. that’s why when your mom rudely asked how successful your “boys” were looking, you coldly responded with “i’m not working there anymore. i go to daegu arts university mom, you would know if you called me.” jiwoo took offense to your moms comments, her usually bright smile fell off her face, replaced by a slightly pissed glare in her eyes.

“well we would call if you were doing something i wanted to know about, daughter. i understand you’re an adult now but i raised a smart lawyer, not whatever path you’re taking. seriously, am i the only one ashamed of you? maeum, you could at least encourage her, sweetheart!” your mom kept complaining, you chose silence for the first time in your life. this wouldn’t be the first argument you two had, but you preferred not to embarrass yourself at your first family dinner in two years.

however, silence didn’t choose you.

“and to make it worse you’re chasing around some stupid boys who call themselves singers? passions don’t pay, ____. give up on those stupid dreams already.”

“you’ve said enough” your dad lightly warned her

“yes you have” you said back, “mom, what did you do with your life? decide to get pregnant at 18 and become a victim to the economy for the rest of your life? you think being a university professor means anything? your teaching degree has clearly gone to waste then, because i haven’t learned shit from you except how to ruin my potential and kill all my happiness. i can’t sit around here and let you clown me like im not your own kin, seriously. it’s like you don’t even fucking love me, i wish you would just die already so i don’t have to hear your fucking mouth anymore.”

the sound of your metal chopsticks clanking as you walked out echoed way too loud in the empty dining halls. you made your way right to your car, heading to your hotel to pack up and go home. fuck busan and your moms stupid fucking grilled fish.

you slammed your car door, almost knocking it off the hinges. immediately calling sullyoon to tell her the good news.

“hey ____! i was just thinking of you, how’s busan?”

“not the best, but i’ve got good news! i’m coming to see bts with you all next week”

next chapter here

[personasintro]

Hi Mimi. Can I ask you for advice.

I have a friend who is mad at me because I’m not calling her back 24/7, and because I can’t hang out all the time and have to cancel due to the fact that I work and they sometimes, even if I have plans, call me in.

I couldn’t attend her boyfriend’s surprise birthday dinner, who she’ve only been dating for like 4 months and I’ve only met twice, because they wanted to go out late at night and I was working the day before, during, and the day after. However that particular day I got to finish my shift early because it was raining so my boss told me to just go home. On my way home another friend called me, who I haven’t seen in four month because we live 1h and 45min away from each other. My birthday is in two weeks but she’s going on vacation soon, she asked if we could meet up in the city and have dinner, this is like 4-5pm, because she wanted to celebrate me by buying me dinner. I said okey. I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong. We meet up, have dinner, order some drinks, and I post a video of us. The other friend, not even 5 minutes later, sends me a loooong message about what a bad friend I am without even knowing anything. I didn’t answer her right away and decided to wait until I was home. I got home at like 8:30, and the dinner was around 9-10isch so even if I didn’t go out with my friend I couldn’t go and celebrate her boyfriend because I needed to sleep.

She really went off on me, said a lot of things, and made me feel so shitty for nothing. So I wrote back and told her, we’re not kids, I didn’t do anything wrong, I explained briefly why I went out with my friend, and I also told her it’s my life and nobody can get mad at me for my choices, even if I was free that day it still shouldn’t be a problem because I don’t have an obligation to anybody. I also told her that I think it’s wrong that she decided to message me when she saw I was out, she could have waited and brought it up the next day instead of basically trying to ruin my night. I also texted her “don’t worry about this now, go and have fun, enjoy, let’s talk face 2 face when we get the chance” She then texted me back saying “I am celebrating his birthday all weekend, we can talk another day, I don’t have time to deal with this now”. I wrote back “sure”. My first thought, before I calmed myself down, was “so you have time to ruin my night, and start this whole thing, but you don’t have time to finish it?”.

Am I the asshole? Hahaha this sounds like a reddit post, I wanted to write it there but I don’t want to take a risk of her seeing it. Your account, your stories and you are also my comfort zone. I just feel safe here, which is why I am sorry for the rant and headache you have now. I just don’t like to talk about other people with other people, which is why I’m not asking for advice from my friends. But at the same time I’m desperate because I feel like I have done everything for her but just because I have work and have to prioritize myself I’m suddenly a bad friend for not attending her bfs dinner who I’ve only met twice. I mean it’s not like I missed her wedding day. It’s not like I was talking shit about her or told everyone her secrets for her to call me awful names and paint me as the bad guy. It’s not like the plan hanged on me, and I said no, and everybody stayed home but then I went out anyways. They still went out and had fun, so why should it be a problem if I was there or not.

I just want to add that this friendship is solely about me being there for her, I’m basically her therapist. I’ve never ever had demands on her or how she should treat me. I’m so drama free like this is my only drama in life atm in the past 6 years. I’m so easy going. You know that last year on my birthday she didn’t wish me a happy bday, and last year I asked her 6 times if she wanted to go on a vacation and she said no, but then she posts on snap that she’s going on a “random trip” with a girl she met 6 month ago at a gym who she doesn’t even talk to anymore because she feels that the girl was to clingy. I didn’t say anything because I thought it’s okey I’m not gonna ruin her day, vacation or whatever for something so silly, it’s HER life. I’m always there for her, even if I’m busy I always try to show her that she is not neglected by maybe sending her a song, or meme, or even going as far as telling her that I’m gonna be busy and that she can call me if it’s an emergency otherwise I won’t be so active. I always have her back, she calls me 4 in the morning and I pick up without blinking twice. My parents treat her as a second daughter, I’m always there for her as much as I can, and I just have to add that last month, I didn’t sleep for 36h and had a 10h shift the day after, but I still went out with her because she needed a friend due to having a bad day. I neglected my mental health for her. And our convos are 90% about her, 7% about random stuff, and 3% about me, and I STILL DONT HAVE A PROBLEM WITH IT because idgaf. Im honestly so unbothered I really don’t care, but right now I care because I feel that the text she sent me, and the way she wanted to paint me, and the words she used even though I’ve never ever had anything negative about her coming out of my mouth…I just feel like this is so unfair and I don’t know what to do. Should I end the friendship? Or maybe talk to her and try to make her understand? Im just so lost and this is honestly so sad because we’ve been friend for 12 years if not more. I don’t want it to end over something so silly…

Much love💜

Again I’m sorry for ranting, if you have advice I want to thank you for them. And I also want to thank you before hand for taking the time to read this. I admire u and ur stories!

I just have to add: she’s not a bad person, her good qualities overshadows the bad ones, which is why we’re still friends.

This message was sent a while back and I am sorry for responding only now. Maybe you were able to figure it out on your own or things happened after this. But all I can recommend for you to do is to talk to your friend, if you haven’t already. If I were you, I’d try to communicate and make her see where I am coming from as well and then… there’s nothing much you can do from there. You’ll see how she takes it and whether she’s able to see your side or not. Regardless of everything, she shouldn’t take you for granted and cut you some slack.

Like you said, you don’t want your friendship to end over something silly but maybe it’s not something silly at all. In the end, you don’t want friends who makes you feel guilty and take you for granted all the time. Just the fact your entire friendship seems to be focusing on her rather than on both of you says a lot. You shouldn’t be treated that way and you do deserve someone who equally cares about you as a person :)

[cadet-aviator]

Becoming an Army Cadet

The experience of the Elite Camp did linger in my mind, of course, and the words of the Admiral about my ‘true nature’, my love of discipline, my need to obey, resonated for months. They didn’t make me unhappy; they actually seemed to confirm what I had been feeling all along. 

When I was in Thailand with Dad I had had a strong feeling to go back to the Admiral and sign up for whatever he wanted. I mentioned before that he had touched something in me at a very profound level. He had seen me for what I was: obedient. Submissive. Loyal. And he had put this in words, and no one had done that before. 

All this had a strong influence on the relationship with my parents – my Dad, mostly. I already felt at home in the cadet life, the ‘brotherhood’ of my school cadet platoon, and I felt attracted to the extreme discipline of that Elite Camp (even though it was such a shock to fail at it). Now the Admiral had opened a door to … another home, basically, or even: another life, another family. Which is unkind to say, given the troubles my Dad had to cope with, but it was a fact. I didn’t mind having to kneel for the Admiral. I found that I was comfortable doing it. Even happy. 

I soon found out what Dad had decided about the Camp, and the Admiral’s offer. 

Once again I was summoned to appear at the Army Cadet office, this time in Army Cadet uniform. The dreaded green shirt, which I had not liked until then, but now I was pleased to put back on. The proceedings were a bit quicker, this time. I only had to wait half an hour and I was inspected only once.

First of all, I was told I was now going to formally enlist in the Army Cadet program. That was one step up from just being a school cadet.

Technically school cadets were also part of the Malay military, we had Army personnel doing the drills, but only in extreme circumstances did that actually mean anything – school cadets were called up once to help fill sandbags during a storm, but that was it. 

Then I was told I was going to enlist for two and a half years, right up to my 18th birthday.

I would have to take an oath and declare that I was obedient to Army Cadet law and Army Cadet regulations. It was a serious thing.

Technically I could not be recruited into the Army, I was still an underage cadet, a schoolboy, and my parents still had complete legal authority over me (and they had to agree to all this) – but in practice I was now a junior soldier. Any superior, anyone of higher rank who saw me in cadet uniform could now order me around, inspect me, give me demerits. Refusing to obey an order could mean court martial proceedings, disciplinary measures, fines, even incarceration. They read it all out to me. The world around seemed to disappear.

My life was turned around. Cadets was no longer a school thing, a hobby; I was to become a full time ‘24/7’ Army Cadet, in permanent service, but with special permission to attend school and take part in school cadets. Any other activities had to be approved by the Army Cadet Program. Any demerit I got at school, any grade below an 8/10, would be added to my Army Cadet record and would be punished accordingly.

Wearing the uniform was now compulsory. I already voluntarily dressed in either school uniform or cadet uniform at all times, but this was now an absolute rule. ‘At all times’ meant exactly that. Any informal social event, every birthday party, every movie night at a friend’s house, any trip to the mall: in uniform. I could sleep and shower without it, but if I wanted to go for a swim with my mates, I’d have to have permission beforehand. I'd have to figure out precisely when I could be in school cadet uniform and when I had to be in Army cadet uniform.

It was all insanely strict (I later realised that the regime in most prisons was more relaxed) but I took it as completely natural. Bear in mind that the Army Cadets were a pretty big organisation. Kids in my school who were keen on entering the Military Academy after graduation were envious of me, that I was accepted 'just like that'. You could enter Army Cadets at age 12 - they had drill platoons of really little boys, and I realised those boys had been signed up to exactly the same system of discipline. It dawned on me later that I was not the only kid then who had no casual clothes, no free time, no free choices.

When I stood in that office to hear what was going to happen to me, there were three or four other cadets my age waiting to be enlisted too.

One of them signed his form alongside me. We didn't chat, of course: cadets didn't talk without permission. I had learned that the hard way, in Camp.

It was made clear that I was a bit of a special case. I expected that was because of the benevolent influence of His Excellency, but it was not just because of that: it turned out that my stack of demerits after the Elite Camp and the 240 hours of Disciplinary Service weighed heavily on my record. The Army Cadet Program accepted me with conditions attached; my punishment chores had been done satisfactorily, but they were still ‘suspicious’ as to my true motivation, and so they ‘suggested’ that they made this Disciplinary Service a permanent feature, and the 8 hours a week were increased to 16, so I could be called upon to serve longer hours, including in the evenings. This was necessary also, they said, as His Excellency had indicated that I was to get Mess and Household training, and I might as well get experience there before I was to go to Elite Camp over the summer, for seven weeks, and three more weeks over the Christmas period.

I confess that took me aback a bit, when I heard it: I hadn’t realised that was already decided for me. I couldn't quiet fathom what 16 hours of service per week would mean for the rest of my life, school work, things at home, but this was clearly not a place to argue.

Finally, I was again given the option of agreeing to corporal punishment, but I chose not to. I had seen other cadets receiving the cane, in Camp, and I was not having that. I could not refuse the option of having to wear a discipline harness during drill and marches.

They gave me the enlistment form and I signed.

I noticed that my Dad had signed it before me. He hadn’t told me anything, but I realised (with a bit of a shock) that he had finally and competely understood what I wanted. I did feel as if he was giving me away. He had actually left the option for CP open - left that for me to decide.

I laid down the pen and stood to attention.

I was now an Army Cadet. I was ordered to again go to the office down the hall and receive a full Army Cadet outfit. ‘Dismissed.’

I walked home with my arms full of new uniform items.

And exactly one hour and fifteen minutes later the doorbell rang. Mrs Lee opened.

'Excuse me, miss, please present Cadet N for inspection, miss.'

'You'll find him in his bedroom, sergeant.'

'Thank you, miss.'

They had me.

[k1ranishf4]

My Lawyer Dio AU

I just want to clarify that I looked the characters up and researched if their birthdays were established. I’m keeping the canon ones and just made up some for those who don’t have a specified birthday.

We all know that Dio finished law school by the time he was 20 or 21 years old and 120/121 by the time Giorno was four. So I’ll just take this and move everything to the “modern” time.

Which basically means that Jonathan and Dio were born in 1967/68 instead of 1867/68.

But first of all, I’d like to specify that Stands still exist and Jonathan has his wonderful Hermit Purple but with roses. I’ll come up with a name later, I guess.

Also, since Jonathan is very much alive, Dio has his own body and is therefore still his canon height (185cm/6 ft 1 in)

To elaborate further:

Jonathan was born on April 4, 1968

He was 20 in Part 1, so I’ll just keep that in this AU as well. Only difference is that it’s 1989.

Now, I like to think that Dio’s older despite coming to the family later, which is really funny. Like, imagine you’re an only child until one day your father adopts a boy who’s like a year older than you and you end up having an older brother who’s the total opposite of you.

Since there’s no specific birthday, I’ll just make something up. Sooo… Dio: January 2, 1967

Obviously, this is also mudad, so I’m keeping his sons’ canon birth dates. But this also brings a few issues, if you will.

Giorno was born on April 16, 1985, which means that Dio was 18 when our Disney Princess was born.

He’s canonically a manwhore and I don’t intend on changing that anytime soon. He simply fucked around a lot in his last year of high school and the entirety of law school and ended impregnating four women.

I’ve checked and there aren’t canon birthdays for the other three, as well. All we know are their birth years. More to come up with for me.

Donatello: March 12, 1987

The thing is, despite being born in the same year, I like the thought of Rikiel being a few months older than Ungalo even tho he’s the local crybaby at home.

Rikiel: February 25, 1988

Ungalo: September 10, 1988

Now, Dio’s not the only one with children and I want to include George II and Erina too. George II’s canon birth year is 1889, so I’ll keep that as well but it’ll mean that Giorno, Donatello, Rikiel and Ungalo are older than him.

Since he doesn’t have a specific birthday, I’ll just add nine months to Jonathan’s canon date of death, which is February 7, 1889.

George II: November 11, 1989

Guess what, Erina also doesn’t have a specified birthday!! We only know that it’s some time in 1869. Hmmmmmm…..

I want her birthday to be in June, to be honest.

Erina: June 26, 1969

Let’s not forget the grandpa, of course. The only thing I’ve found out is that he died in 1888. I want him to be 45, which would mean that he’d be born in 1843.

So, we’ll just take that and move it to the 20th century and we get May 16, 1943.

To summarize:

George I: May 16, 1943

Jonathan: April 4, 1968

Dio: January 2, 1967

Erina: June 26, 1969

Giorno: April 16, 1985

Donatello: March 12, 1987

Rikiel: February 25, 1988

Ungalo: September 10, 1988

George II: November 12, 1989

Let’s get to how our local hoe finds out about his sons. As I’ve already mentioned, Dio was 18 when Giorno was born but he didn’t know and obviously didn’t get custody right then.

It went like this:

Homeboy was sitting in his study in the year 1990 and was going over the most recent case, when one of the butlers came in and delivered a letter.

It was signed by all four of his past flings and it said that all four of them had a son each. They gave him a location to meet ‘cause neither of them really wanted the custody of them. At first, Dio thought that it might be a lie to get money since he’s the adopted son of a famous aristocrat but he also believed that it might be true.

Jonathan found out, because of course he did, and immediately sent a butler to get the car ready so that Dio could go. Dio didn’t have another choice but to do so, since his lovely brother just had to get involved.

Turns out the letter was honest to God and Dio came back with a five-year-old who had pitch black hair, a three-year-old with brown hair and two one-year-olds in his arms, one of which had dark skin and black hair with hot pink highlights styled into locs and the other with unusual pistachio green hair.

Welp, at least George II wouldn’t have to grow up alone🤷 anyway-

George I was delighted to have even more grandsons but he didn’t exactly approve of Dio being a manwhore, since that’s the opposite of how he raised his sons to be.

I want to include D’Arby and Vanilla Ice (as well as Hol Horse and maybe a few others of the Agents of DIO) as Dio’s personal butlers because it’s fun to imagine his sons judging them because of their fanatical loyalty to Dio, but I’m not sure how.

I’ll probably make him move into a different manor maybe four years later, where he has his own (canon) butlers/servants, whatever you want to call them. But I’ll obviously let them stay in England, a grandpa and an uncle want to see the kids, okay?

Dio still has his shithead asshole personality but he doesn’t go as far as wanting to kill his adoptive family and trying to claim the inheritance via vampirism, to the point where he literally wants to achieve heaven.

Nah, this man cares for them but is extremely bad at showing it, even though Jonathan and George know. Jonathan always knows. Dio had to learn the hard way that he can’t hide shit from his brother.

He has a good relationship with Erina, they constantly make fun of each other and hey, would you look at that! He didn’t forcefully kiss her when they were twelve!! She can kick ass and he acknowledges and respects that.

Coming back to the Stands, Dio noticed that The World is very useful with four rat children who can do nothing but cause chaos and misery for him. Especially when one or all of them decide that running into traffic is how they want to spend their evening.

I’m not exactly sure but I think it’s established in canon that Giorno is the only one who’s a born Stand User. I’ll change that in this AU and make his brothers born Stand User as well.

The years pass, blablabla, Giorno still takes over the Italian Mafia because he can and gets rich even tho he already is and his brothers still don’t know what to do when they’re adults.

But! They find out their older brother has started dating some dude (“his name’s Hugo or something.” “are you stupid, it’s Fugo” “Gugo, like I said.”) and they spy on them when they’re out on a date.

Dio doesn’t exactly care if or whom his sons date, or which gender that person has since he’s a bisexual slut who keeps sleeping around, but he’ll make sure that neither of the four are taken advantage of and checks their partners’ backgrounds and lifestyles behind their backs.

Now, adding the fact that he’s a slut to his career as a lawyer: he wins every case.

Reason number one: he’s beautiful

Reason number two: he’s charismatic

Reason number three: he’s manipulative

Reason number four: he’s cunning

Reason number five: he’s convincing

Reason number six: he sleeps with the judge when his client is actually guilty

One of his sons: are you ever gonna give us a stepmother or stepfather?

Dio, planning his next one-night-stand: step-what?

He reluctantly leaves his sons in the care of his obnoxious brother when he has to go somewhere for work-related purposes. He’d rather die, though. (When they were children, at least. When they were 15/13/12/12, he began leaving them at home in hopes of finding it still in one piece later)

It’s basically a huge mess with a lot of chaos and misuse of some Stands (“didn’t I tell you two to stop using your Stands in the mansion?” “Ungalo started it.” “LIAR! Donatello started it.”) but it’s also fun and Dio wouldn’t trade it for anything.

He promised himself to never stoop down to the level of his piece of shit birth father, and he’s keeping that promise.

Oh yeah, he still poisons Dario before being adopted by George I. Normal, am I right?

[felixisbannedfromwalmart]

Hii! I really like your fics about Aaravos and Leola, they're so cute! Do you think you can write one that takes place in a wholesome au where she isn't killed by the cosmic order and they can live happily ever after? Thank you for your time! :D

Stars and Birthday Cake

short story

“Leola, dear? It's breakfast time” Aaravos smiles as he cuts a muffin in half for his daughter, it was Leola’s 12th birthday meaning Aaravos had been a single father for 12 years. Somehow. 

Time was never a topic when he lived in the stars, they had been outside of time, yet everything around them seemed so much clearer in the void of time. It was strange to watch his ‘Little Unicorn’ grow up, slowly his first and only child grew over the years. 12 years to be exact.  

Leola walked into the large open kitchen, she was dressed yet her hair was still an unruly mess of white and magenta, her eyes widen as she saw the large breakfast her father had made for her. 

“It's my birthday!” A larger smile appears on her face as she runs to hug Aaravos, almost knocking the pan he was washing out of his hands. 

“Oh! It’s your birthday? Well, you must be 7, correct?” Aaravos chuckles as he feels the confused gaze of his daughter.

“Daddy! I’m 12!” 

“Ah, that’s right! How could I forget?” Leola erupts into giggles at the table, already serving herself a plate of pancakes. Aaravos sits on the other side of the dining table and serving himself. 

“Well, what would my little unicorn like to do today?” Aaravos watches as his daughter thinks hard.

“I think we should spend time in the gardens!” Leola loves her gardens, she would have every flower in Xadia if she could and Aaravos knows so. 

“Well, I have a gift for you. I made it just for you,” He smiles and slides a box over to Leola, faster than light she tears through the box, holding up a second box, this one engraved with flowers and stars with her name on the top of the box.  

“Open it,” Leola looks amazed by the craftsmanship of the box alone. Carefully she opens the wooden box, the box is filled with seeds all different and organized in separate slots with the name carved into the slot. 

“Woah… there's so many!” Leola looks up, holding the box as if she held a child, in her eyes she might as well have been. 

Leola eats quickly and as soon as she finishes she drags her father out to the garden, she kneels down in the grass, looking for the perfect empty spot. Aaravos sits next to her, helping the search before Leola yells happily. 

“I found more space!”

“I think our next task is making your garden larger, dear,” The two laugh and Leola examines every seed before choosing a blue rose seed and putting two into the already dug soil and carefully laying the earth back on top of the seeds, Aaravos hands Leola a metal watering can shaped similar to an adoraburr. She lets the water flow onto the covered seeds, smiling as she does so. 

“Now we wait!” Leola looks proud of herself as does Aaravos. 

“Hopefully it will grow soon, little unicorn. Which seed did you choose?” 

“Blue rose! My favorite!” Leola smiles and Aaravos ruffles her still messy hair, knowing it would be a month or so until the blue rose blooms.

[galvanizedfriend]

Hi Yokan 👋

I have questions

First question - how’re you doing? Hope life hasn’t been too stressful for you!

Second question - have you been reading anything that has really resonated with you in the last couple of weeks/months.

Third (and most weird) question - if you could choose a superpower what would you choose? (Dumb question I know😂)

Fourth question - most proud moment in your writing career.

And final question - how’s writing going with the Wolf? Hope you’ve not struggled too much in starting it!

hope your doing okay! ❤️

Hi, friend! How's it going?

Can I just say, it's so lovely to get all these questions! ✨ I love this so much, thank you! 💝

First: I'm ok! Work is always stressful these days, I don't think it's going to give me a break until at least September. 😂 But it's not the worst right now. Tomorrow is my birthday and I just the best piece of chocolate cake humanity has to offer, so I'm cool right now. 😇 Just wish tomorrow wasn't Monday. 🥲

Second: I have read 7 books this year so far, but nothing that's stood out as being great, sadly. :( Still haven't had a 5 stars. I finished a thriller called None of This is True by Lisa Jewell which was pretty good, if you're into thrillers. 4 stars, maybe.

In terms of fanfiction, I've have been reading random pieces of non-Kc fic, as per usual 😂 But I have also read The Little Wolf by @morningstargirl666, which is absolutely fantastic, if you haven't read it yet. It's a retelling of the show's canon about the Original family and how they were turned into vampires, with special focus on Klaus' werewolf heritage, and it's so, so, so good! And so much better than canon! It actually gives depth to the siblings' relationships, and it has so many little nods to what we know of them in the future. Beautifully woven! I have also read Till I Tasted You by @kirythestitchwitch, which is a canon divergent AU where a spell goes wrong and Caroline ends up finding out Klaus is her soulmate. It's hot, it has absolutely nom-nom-able dialogues and A+++ interactions between KC, it features Damon getting his ass kicked! I don't know, it's just the whole package. 🤌

Third: This would be a very weird question if I hadn't spent an irrational amount of time thinking about that. 😂 I guess it really depends on what kind of universe you mean, because it varies. But I would very much like to have telekinesis like Prue in Charmed.

Fourth: That's a tough one. I'm an extremely critical person of my own writing, so it's hard for me to feel proud of stuff I've done tbh. 😂 But I think I was pretty proud when I finished The Wolf 2. It's not my personal favorite thing I've ever written, but I think it's probably my best written story. I really like the final part of that story, the way I managed to tie it back to TVD, I think it was very full circle and made the story a lot more unique. I also had a lot of fun writing the Mikaelsons and Caroline back in Mystic Falls after the time they spent in Nola. 😂 So maybe that.

Final: It's... going. 🥲 I took a pause after writing two chapters back to back, tried to work on some other stuff, and then I circled back to it. I've actually just started the next chapter, have a couple of scenes. I don't think this first chapter will be a long one, but I think it will take a lot of editing tbh. 😂 I haven't been at most inspired right now, so not sure how much of what I've written will stand the test of a re-read. I had plans to get a chapter out before the end of the month, but I'm not sure I'll manage it. 🥲 We'll see how this week goes. Pray for me.

Thanks for the questions, friend! I hope you have a wonderful week! ✨

[olberic]

ranking anime i’ve watched in 2023:

as expected, here’s this year’s top 10 for how much i personally enjoyed the anime i’ve watched this year. ive watched more than this, but god i watched so many bad ones…. even number 10 sucks but everything else was worse. sad!

as always thank u gifmakers for ur service 🫡 the world would be nothing without u all

10. the legendary hero is dead! (2023)

dont watch this show. it sucks and its bad. hey. come here. hold my hand. now lets just watch and enjoy the OP ok? don't worry about the rest.

9. my daughter left the nest and returned as an s-rank adventurer (2023)

i have to admit this show charmed me. its not the best thing ive ever seen but its nice. comfy. yknow? i haven't finished it but it's enjoyable. can't rank it higher until i finish it

8. sabikui bisco (2022)

if it werent for the positively nonsensical jump in the middle of the show and the way theres just like. a lot of gaps? it’d rank higher. it’s a very cool premise for a show and i like the bisco/milo dynamic, and [SISTER] is fun as hell. it didnt wow me though overall, and while i enjoyed it i was hoping for more.

7. trigun stampede (2023)

im sorry trigun stans i simply didnt love it. i see the appeal i really do but it just didnt hook me. i really liked the animation and the storyline. im intrigued by whatever the fuck is going on with those plants and yall have said theres a tallgirl in the next season? so i’ll keep watching. i just didnt love it

6. that time i got reincarnated as a slime (2019-2021)

in contrast to #7, i can see why this show is weak HOWEVER i just enjoyed it. i like it. huge fan of how much gender the protag has. i love how they get new powers. i enjoy that it can be interpreted as an extremely bisexual show. it was well paced and the slime diaries OVA was a great addition. a lot of the characters really stuck with me too and its like. idk. one of my favourite isekais i guess

5. buddy daddies (2023)

this should rank higher. its so fun. its SO fun. its silly and it doesnt take itself seriously. i laughed in every episode. the dynamic between the guys is great. the dynamics between them and the kid is great. just a really solid show if you can stand the queerbaiting. i dont even care

4. bocchi the rock! (2022)

the bocchi side of tumblr is right this show rules. i like how real bocchi’s social anxiety feels (literally how it felt when i had it). the characters are entertaining, the show’s well done, they even have solid music (which band-based shows dont always do right!). its really funny and its really earnest and its a joy to watch

3. demon slayer: swordsmith village arc (2023)

i included the entertainment district arc in last year’s list so this arc makes the cut. im always late getting around to watch the new stuff and i dont want to read the manga but god DAMN does this show hit different. incredible fight scenes. i loved everything they did for the hashira backstories. i love whatever the fuck is up with genya. it even gave me some akaza to sustain me for the next year or whatever. ik this show gets overhyped but its normal hyped. to me.

2. frieren: beyond journey's end (2023)

oughhh frieren… ive only known this show for a few months but it means to much to me… i dont even wanna talk about it because its so good i just wanna watch it again. go watch frieren if you havent already its anime of the decade. to me

1. gundam: the witch from mercury (2022-2023)

ive never seen a gundam before but i will be watched them after this! what can be said about it that hasnt already been said on this site. the romance storyline is impeccable, the fights are awesome, the moral questions it posed were excellently covered. by the end of the first episode i was speechless. by the end of the last episode i'd cried like 4 times over the course of the show. this thing made me cry to happy birthday. what the fuck

[themultifandomgal]

Antonio- Babies Birth Alphabet

A= Aftercare After Birth (How they act after you finish giving birth?):

Antonio was amazing during labour. He held my hand the whole time and kept telling me how proud he was of me and placing kisses on my forehead constantly.

After giving birth Antonio would make sure that both me and the baby are ok. When our baby was taken away to be checked over, Antonio's attention was on me making sure I had drank water and that I was feeling ok.

B= Baby (Who is the baby more like? The baby's personality?):

When the baby was born Antonio swears that they look exactly like Diego when he was born. So safe to say the baby looks most like Antonio.

C= Care Taking (Who takes care of the baby more? Do you have someone else take care of the child?):

Due to how much Antonio works, taking care of the baby is mostly left to me and also the fact that I'm breast feeding means that I have to be the one to do the feeding unless I've managed to pump in the day. Antonio will take over as soon as he can. On Antonio's days off I'm made to relax all day while he does the cleaning and taking care of the baby.

D= Delivery (How they act when you are in labor, do they stay in the room or outside the room?):

He's been here before, so he's pretty calm keeping me as calm as possible. Antonio stays by my side the whole time, except when he goes to get food or a drink for us both.

E= Emergencies (How do they act when something happens to the baby? If something happens during labor how do they react?):

The only time Antonio starts to worry is when Nat tells me baby is the wrong way round. She turned the baby by putting pressure on my stomach which was super painful. Antonio hated seeing me in pain like that and wanted to make sure that both me and the baby would be ok. After being reassured Antonio calmed once again.

F= Friends/Family (Who visits you in the hospital?):

The first person to arrive was obviously my brother Will as he was working. Next up Jay and Gabby came to visit with Eva and Diego who were both very excited to hold the baby. After family came to visit CFD CPD and others from Med all came to see me, Antonio and the baby. Antonio's mum came to visit and immediately feel in love. She's been over a few times while I was in my third trimester helping us get ready. She will also be staying over for a few days to help out while I recover. Antonio's father still doesn't want to know.

G= Gender(s) (What do you have?):

We have a baby boy that we named Lucas.

H= Hair Color (What hair color does the baby inherit):

Lucas was born with dark hair like Antonio.

I= Illness (How do they react when the baby gets sick for the first time? How about when the baby is ill for a while?):

Lucas was born healthy, would often get the hiccups, especially after feeding. Antonio was very relaxed about this, I however was stressed that there was something wrong, even going as far as to ring Nat to ask if this was normal.

J= Job (When do you go back to work?):

I decide to take as long as I can. 3 months paid and then I take 6 months unpaid. I don't want Lucas to go to nursery just yet so we both decide to hire a nanny while we're at work. As I finish work usually before Antonio our nanny is dismissed as soon as I get home.

K= Kisses (Do they kiss the baby?):

Yes of course, even in front of his coworkers. The tough guy act is thrown out of the window when it comes to his kids.

L= Love (Do they fall in love with the baby right away? What do they love the most about the baby?):

Antonio fell in love from the first ultrasound. Antonio loves Lucas' smile.

M= Movement (How do they react to baby first crawling and walking?):

Lucas was a late developer. He didn't start crawling until he was 11 months old, a week before his first birthday in fact. Of course this worried us because Antonio said his other kids started crawling at 6/7 months. When he did start crawling we were so excited, then almost immediately he starting pulling himself up

And walking.

N= New People (Taking baby to meet the rest of their/your work colleagues.):

Intelligence met Lucas before my coworkers and they immediately all fell in love with him. They saw him while I was still on hospital, Lucas only being an hour old. They're a family and they have extended that to Lucas and I.

When I took Lucas to meet my coworkers, he was a couple of months old. I also got to show him to my old class.

O= On Time (Are they there by time you go into labor? Do they arrive before or after the baby is born? How do they feel if they are late? Is the baby on time?):

I had gone into labour early. I was with Eva and Diego, making us all some lunch when it started. Eva rang Antonio but had no answer while Diego rang 911.

I arrive at Med with the kids after an ambo picked us up. Will rings Antonio until he manages to get ahold of him. Antonio is there as soon as he can and doesn't leave my side until the baby is born.

Lucas was born early on the 2nd of September.

P= Pain (How do they react to seeing you in pain due to the contractions? How do they handle seeing you in pain during labor?):

Antonio didn't like seeing me in pain but he knows what having a baby entails, so he just keeps reassuring me telling me it will all be worth it in the end.

Q= Questions (Do they ask the midwife a lot of questions? Do they keep asking if they are doing something right when they are doing something with the baby?):

No, he is super calm and when the baby is born he's muscle memory kicks in.

R= Resting (Do they get a lot of rest when the baby is born? Do they stay awake at night worrying about the baby?):

Lucas is a good baby. He sleeps when he needs to only waking up for a feed and nappy change giving both Antonio and I chance to sleep.

S= Singing to the Baby (Do they sing to the baby, or do they listen to you sing to the baby? What is their favorite song to sing to the baby?):

Antonio will hum to the baby, but only when he thinks I'm not listening.

T= Talking to the Baby (Do they use baby talk?):

We both find we do talk differently to the baby, just more softly and quietly.

U= Underneath the Man/Woman's Heart (How do they truly feel about having a child? Do they feel as though they are ready for a baby?):

Although it wasn't planned for that year Antonio was excited to have a baby. I was the one who didn't feel ready and Antonio would have to keep reassuring me that we will be ok.

V= Vision as in Supervision (Do they keep a close eye on the baby? Do they have someone watching the baby at all times?):

Yes. Antonio is very protective, only letting certain people watch him. Especially after Diego being kidnapped, Antonio because even more protective wanting to make sure that any tough case didn't come home with him.

W= When the Baby is Born (What day is the baby born. Are they off work? At work?):

Lucas was born on the 2nd September at 11:31 am after being in labour for nearly 24 hours. Antonio was at work when he found out. Voight allowed Antonio 3 weeks paid leave, but Antonio couldn't sit still so ended up doing paperwork for those 3 weeks.

X= X-mas (What's their first Christmas like?):

We had Eva and Diego this this. I felt like I true family especially when Antonio proposed to me!

Y= Yawning (How tired do they get when dealing with the baby? Their reaction to the baby yawning?):

Antonio will yawn every time Lucas does. Thankfully because Lucas is such an easy baby we get plenty of sleep so neither of us are that tired.

Z= ZZZ (How much sleep after the baby is born?):

Plenty. We are able to mostly sleep through the night and if we are tired the following day we can take a nap while Lucas is asleep.

[astral-athame]

((Life for me has pretty much been: Wake up at 8am. Desperately try to get more sleep until 9 (usually I doze off for, like, 2 or 3 minutes at a time and that's it). Get ready for work. Leave between 9:30 and 9:45. Work from 10-1:30-ish (it's supposed to be until 1:15 but I'm never out of there on time). Get home around 1:45. Leave for work part 2 around 2:30. That goes from at least 3-7, usually closer to 7:20 when I finally leave (sometimes stay until 8 or 9). Get home between 7:30 and 7:45. Make a quick dinner, shower, etc. Around 8:30, watch Ba.tt.le.st.ar Gal.act.ica with a couple of friends (if things work out, this couple may eventually be more than just my friends, but we'll see how that goes ^^;) until about 10:30, then chat with them for a bit after that, usually until almost 11. Bedtime routine (wash face, brush teeth, etc etc). Then stare at drafts until midnight when I realize I need to get to bed because I know I'll be up earlier than I need to be. Then the weekends have consisted a lot of babysitting, running errands, and trying to finish unpacking here and there because it's been 4 months and finding time to unpack has been a pain in the ass with everything that's constantly going on. Also, I spent 3 hours on Saturday putting together a kitchen cabinet- thankfully we have extra screwdrivers because the phillip's-head screwdriver they included was such bad quality that it was messed up and unusable less than half an hour in because the metal of it was so soft -_-

ANYWAY- Work both shifts the rest of the week (except Friday, but only because I don't have to do the second shift, still have the first). Saturday we're going out for my dad's birthday (which was actually last week, but we couldn't make things work for going out last weekend like we'd wanted to). Saturday night is also game night, as usual. Then Sunday I *should* have some free time, but I also desperately need to get some cleaning done that's being semi-neglected throughout the week. So what I'm saying is Sundays are chore days.

If things go well, I should, soon, only be working the first shift in another week or two (with the second shift just being Fridays and when absolutely needed)? Right now both my sister and I are stuck doing the second shift every night (and have been since before mid-winter break last month) because the custodial staff is down two people (one girl broke her leg and has been out since October, I think? And the other has been on temporary (paid) probation since early February while they consider whether or not to fire him and go through all the legal jargon of all of that). But they should be coming to a decision about that soon, I would hope, which would mean that if he gets to come back, then we won't be working nights unless someone calls out. And if he doesn't come back, then they should be hiring someone to fill his place so we'll just have to wait until someone snags the job (hopefully, in that case, they'll offer it to my sister first because usually they try to offer it to substitutes and she really wants it, but we'll see). They're also slowly running out of budget for substitutes, so, that's something to consider, too.

ANYWAY- TL;DR: I've basically had no writing time / personal time and that's why I've not been around. Hopefully work stuff will calm down soon because leaving the house around 9:30am and not really getting to be home until usually after 7:30pm (sometimes 8:30pm or 9:30pm) has been exhausting ^^;

I'll try to be around on Sunday (probably focus on Rogue's blog because I've been writing the fic in my head at work most nights so I have a lot of muse for her AND her blog has been sorely neglected for at least a few months now WHICH MAKES ME SO MAD AT MYSELF). If I can even get one or two asks done, then I'll consider that an accomplishment at this point!

I'm so sorry about the long absence. I'm sorry to everyone for neglecting replies. I'm sorry to everyone I was writing with and haven't had the time / social and physical energy / emotional capacity to reach back out to in a while. That's on me. I dropped the ball on that. I've never been good at ooc communication anyway, tbh. I was really hoping things would be a little bit calmer after I moved, but instead they went in exactly the opposite direction and haven't really slowed down any since November. In fact, they've just gotten more hectic over the last few months ^^;

I adore you all so much and I really do hope that I can get back to writing soon. I've been missing it (and all of you) terribly.

Take care and I'll try to be around soon <3))

[wellthatwasaletdown]

Khloe was too afraid to say anything bc she knew her little sister (Kendall) would be attacked. I remember it like it was yesterday.

"But ... I don't know if they're like boyfriend-girlfriend," Kardashian added. "Nowadays I don't know, people are weird with stuff. So, I don't know their title. But I mean, they were in St. Barts together hanging out, so to me that's dating."

And she's right. Of course, they were dating. My guess is, they dated off & on for a couple of years & even lived together at one point when Harry was in L.A. which was a lot. There was a period where Kendall didn't have a boyfriend. Not publicly. And it was in that time period I believe she was dating Harry.

I don't believe they were together during yachtgate. For one, Megan Smith came forward right after saying she had been dating Harry for about 7 months & didn't even know about Kendall until she saw the photos. He tried calling her after he got home, but she refused to talk to him.

larries dominated the comment section w "he's gay petra" & harries are so terrified he's actually going to meet someone nice & get married & start a family that they feed off of the larries negativity bc they don't want to see him w another woman unless that woman is one of them so even tho they hate larries, it is the only time they are ok w seeing gay comments.

They don't necessarily want to see him gay. They just don't want to see him w another woman.

I think yachtgate was a vacation & Harry was also signing a contract w Azoff going solo. Kendall was being bombarded w gay rumors & being seen w Harry was supposed to silence those rumors. Harry was her beard. LOL (I'm kidding!) But you can't deny they have great chemistry & are comfortable around each other. You can tell they have history. And when Megan Smith came forward about her relationship w Harry, it made Kendall look like the other woman & she had a huge fight w Harry at Jeff's birthday celebrations & hendall stopped talking for a while.

OK, I'm done. I can't believe I'm this invested in Harry's personal life when I think he's such a trashy human being. If Taylor were smart, she would try to find a nice guy. But who knows, maybe she's just as fake as he is.

0 notes

Khloe wasn't afraid to say anything. She gave multiple interviews about this. The KarJenners thrive on attention--both negative and positive. If Kendall started getting seriously attacked by his fans, it would have become a storyline. Khloe truly didn't know anything because it was nothing more than a holiday hook up that they both used for publicity. And, yes, they used it because they knew the paps were there. That was a big yacht. They could have found a private place to make out. Or sign his contract.