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spectralscathath · 2 months ago

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Tour Guide to the Unexplained- A Gravity Falls Fanfiction

Chapter 3- Monster Truck

Stan and Ford didn’t expect much when getting shipped up to Gravity Falls to stay with estranged family. Not a truck-stealing creature, not scary movies, and definitely not the Mystery Shack and their lying uncle who runs it. But with Ford’s smarts and Stan’s punching, there’s no mystery they can’t solve.

Ao3 Link

"A sleepover, Stanley, can you believe it?" Ford beamed as he screwed in another bit of plating on his magnet gun, Test Design #1. Lucky that the attic that had been turned into their room had a bunch of stored random stuff he could use. He'd cleaned up a bit in preparation for tonight, made more space. "We've never had one before!"

"What's all the 'we' about?" Stan flicked through one of The Grimdark Chronicles comics, lying on his bed. Ford had gotten the first one in the series because he thought he'd like the supernatural mystery story, but it was just depressing. Stan seemed to like it though, at least.

Maybe it could get him to start drawing again? Ford missed reading Lil Stanley, it was funny.

"Sixer?"

"Oh. Sorry." Zoned out again, too stuck in his head. It kept happening. "I just mean- we've never had friends to have a sleepover with? Aren't you excited?"

"They're your friends, poindexter," Stan rolled his eyes and munched on toffee peanuts. Ford had been trying to get him to store his food in the kitchen, where food was supposed to be stored, but Stan was convinced something was eating them. It was probably Grunkle Dipper. "Why would I be excited?"

"I- because-" didn't Stan want a sleepover? "What's going on with you?"

"Nothin'." Stan flicked a page of the comic and offered the bag of snacks. “Want one?”

"No, I don’t want a toffee peanut! Something's going on with you!" Ford knew it, he knew it- "First you don't wanna go to a party even though we've never been to one, now you don't want a sleepover? These are normal things boys our age do, it's exciting."

Stan sighed and closed the comic, sitting up and stretching. "Yeah, for you, maybe. Bet you're gonna do a whole buncha nerdy stuff. No thanks."

Ford pouted. "C'mon, Stanley, you could at least give it a try. Tad said he'll bring over his MonsterMon cards and his Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons kit. I've always wanted to play those." But dad thought they were frivolous.

"You know that stuff's got too much math for me," Stan laughed.

"I could help you with the math!" Why didn't Stanley want to play with him? "Are you mad at me?"

Okay, now Stanley was looking at him like he was being dumb. Which was weird, because he normally made that face at Stan. Being on this end of it was not normal.

"What? I'm not mad at you, doofus."

"Then what are you mad at?" It had to be something.

"Hot Belgian Waffles, I'm not mad at anything," Stan rolled his eyes. "You gotta stop overthinking things."

"But I-" was that what he was doing? He fidgeted with the sleeves of his jacket, pulling them over his hands a bit. "Hm."

"Told ya." Stan shrugged.

"What are you gonna do instead then?" The idea of Stanley being alone didn't feel right. Maybe he still felt guilty for ditching Stan at the party.

"I was gonna ask Grunkle Dipper if I could watch one of his old horror movies he's got beside the TV."

"Stanley, those are scary!" And absolutely none of them were PG-rated.

"I know, right?" Stan's eyes sparkled. "Maybe he'll let me watch one of the really scary ones."

Ford pulled a face. "Then I'm definitely not joining you."

"Yeah, I figured," Stan snickered and hopped down off the bed, stuffing his toffee peanuts in his vest with a singsong. "Doo-dilly–doo, hidin' my snacks- You comin'?"

"Where?"

"To let your friends in?" Stan looked at him with That Face again. "It's four pm already, nerd."

"Oh my gosh, is it really?" Ford jumped to his feet like he'd been shocked and ran downstairs, nearly tripping over his extra toes in his haste to get to the door.

He adjusted his glasses and pulled it open, beaming wide at Tad and Fiddleford, Fiddleford's hand raised as if to knock. "Hi! You got the right door!"

"The gift shop entryway looked crowded," Fiddleford smiled, a banjo in his other hand.

"Hi. I brought various activities." Tad lifted the boxes in his hands to show them off, and Ford forgot completely about everything else because there it was: Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons!

Finally, he could put all those ideas he had for characters and enemies and dungeons into play! He'd done so much research!

"Come in!" He held the door open for them. "You've met my brother Stanley-"

"It's 'Stan' to you guys," Stanley leaned against the wall, jumping when Dipper leapt into the room, in full Mr Mystery gear, fists raised in a fighting stance.

"I heard intruders and I know Dan's fixing my truck! Come get some!"

"... and that's our Grunkle Dipper." Ford sighed. "Dipper, you said I could have a sleepover yesterday, remember?"

"Oh." Dipper relaxed from his fighting stance and scratched the back of his neck. "I did?"

"Yep. You were sleeping in your truck before though, mighta forgot." Stan confirmed.

"Well." Dipper looked like he was processing before he waved at Tad and Fiddleford. "Hi, I'm Dipper Pines."

"Hello."

"Aft'rnoon."

"You both live in town?" Dipper joined Stan in leaning against the wall, scanning both of Ford's friends in interest. What was he looking for?

"I'm from Tennessee. Got sent up here to stay with my pa Tate on account of-" Fiddleford paused. "Reasons."

"Wait, the lake guy?" Dipper tilted his hat up. "Huh. I'm banned from renting boats there."

"Yeah… your picture's up on the 'banned forever' wall beside Old Lady Chiu's."

"Okay, we're gonna go set up, thank you!" Ford tried to rush his friends past his weird Grunkle. "Our room's up this way."

"Don't touch my stuff, poindexter," Stan reminded him before he turned. "Grunkle Dipper-"

"- can I watch one of your scary movies?" Stan asked, certain he'd get a yes. Dipper was pretty 'free-range' in his guardian style.

Dipper stared up the stairs. "Was that kid holding D, D, & More D?"

"Yeah, Ford's always wanted to play it," Stan shrugged. "What a nerd, amirite?"

"Oh, I love that game," Dipper blinked a few times before he seemed to zone back in. "What was the question again?"

Stan groaned and smacked his forehead. Really? "I wanna watch one of your horror movies while my brother's having a sleepover. Can I?"

"You don't want to play with him and his friends?" Dipper's brows did that furrow they did every time he got puzzled. He seemed to do it a lot when talking to Stan and Ford.

"Nah." Stan shrugged it off, stuffing his hands into his pockets and staring at an old stain on the floor. "His friends, after all. I don't really like all that stuff anyway."

He wasn't lying when he said he wasn't angry. Just wasn't happy either. He and Ford were supposed to do everything together, they weren't meant to have anyone but each other. But Ford did now, he had friends, and Stan wanted to be a good brother, be happy for his brother's success, like always. Ford succeeded and Stan stayed outta the way, that was how dad preferred things. He could do that. He and Ford could hang out another time. Stan was no leech.

Dipper knelt down to his level and put a hand on his shoulder. Stan tensed a bit, just because. He wasn't big on touch, he and Ford just weren't.

"Hey. I get it." There was a faraway look in Dipper's eyes before he focused. He and Ford both did that a lot, got stuck in their heads. "How about this: I gotta go give a tour before I close down for the day, so how about you go and get Dan to show you some car stuff, and after dinner you can pick a movie and I'll watch it with you. They're better when it's dark anyway."

Stan perked up. "You wanna watch a movie with me?" And not play Ford’s nerd game he said he liked?

"Kid, they're my movies," Dipper laughed. "Like heck I'm missing a chance for a rewatch."

"You got yourself a deal," Stan grinned and stuck out his hand to shake.

Dipper's whole body retracted like a mollusc Stan once saw on Glass Shard Beach, staring at Stan's offered handshake like he was going to be sick, before he put on a smile and ruffled Stan's hair instead. “Now go bother Dan."

"Okay." Stan grinned toothily and grabbed his sneakers, pulling them on and running outside, past the remaining tourist cars still in the dirt patch that was technically a parking lot. Some of the cars were nice, he thought, if he knew cars.

He didn't know much beyond what Shermie had told him, but it sounded like knowing cars was a cool thing. Not only that, but Shermie finally buying his car with his own money had been the first time Stan saw what freedom looked like on someone else's face. Stan's freedom might have been a boat and a promise to sail away, but cars could be a good Plan B.

Boyish Dan was elbows deep in Dipper's truck, flannel sleeves rolled up his biceps. He had to be the only sixteen-year-old Stan knew with a beard. He was huge.

"Hi, Dan." He still didn't know how to talk to this guy. He seemed loud. "Grunkle Dipper said you're working on his truck?"

“Yeah!” Dan grabbed him with one hand and hefted him up onto his shoulder, no hesitation or strain in it.

Stan laughed in disbelief and waved his arms to keep his balance. "Jeez Louise- what do they feed you out here, Dan? I'm not that tiny!"

"Yeah, you are!" Dan grinned at him through the beard, a gap between his front teeth. This close, it looked a little wispy in places, but still. It was a beard. Stan didn't have one, didn't even have stubble. "Don't feel bad, Mr Pines ain't the biggest guy 'round either, but he's definitely the best!"

"Yeah, I'm curious about that," Stan admitted bluntly. "You're like, some sorta hardcore woodsman, right?"

"Whole family is!" Dan boasted proudly. "You seen that big mansion on the hill? Us Corduroys cleared that whole mountain and built it hundreds'a years ago!"

"Wow, so it's like, in your blood. Hardcore."

"Yeah, but my uncles are kinda weird about it." Dan's volume dropped to a normal speaking level, something Stan wasn't sure was possible. "They drive my mom crazy, always yellin', doing stuff just 'cuz they think it's manly. I love 'em, but I don't wanna stress out my mom too. And Mr Pines is the manliest guy in town and he doesn't do that stuff!"

"You think my uncle's manly?" He listened to girly music and did all the cooking. That wasn't very manly by Pines standards.

"Listen, little man!" Dan closed the hood of the truck, lifting Stan to stand on it. He still wasn't sure about being lifted around in one hand like a kitten, but it was also super cool, so he could live with it. "Mr Pines is the smartest, toughest, strongest, bravest, MANLIEST man in Gravity Falls! And if he hadn't told me not to punch people for saying otherwise, I'da punched everyone in town who does! But I don't gotta punch 'em, because being a man isn't about throwing your weight around just because you can!"

"It's not?" Stan blurted out. Dad threw his weight around all the time. He had so much weight that all it took was a word sometimes.

"NO!" Dan paused and cleared his throat. "Sorry. Workin' on a 'inside voice'. My uncles think that way sometimes. The Gleefuls think that way. But I ain't seen them take on a manotaur without blinking!"

"A what?" Did he say that right? Wasn't that one of Ford's myth stories? Stan didn't remember.

"I said what I said! Bein' a man's 'bout a lot more than flexing muscles and thinkin' you're the best 'cuz of it!"

"Is that why you work for him?" Stan still wasn't sure how Dipper was meant to be any of that stuff Dan said.

"Yeah! And my mom thinks it'll be good for me, said a job might make me chill out!"

"You can tell her it's working." Stan couldn't resist a little sarcasm.

"Yeah!" Dan threw his meaty fists up in the air. "So you ready to learn about trucks, little man?!"

"You kiddin'? 'Course I am- uh, big guy!" Dan was kinda weird, but not bad weird. Fun weird. He scrambled back onto Dan's shoulders as Dan opened the engine up again, and decided to be nice in return. "Hey, want a toffee peanut?"

He pulled out the bag of toffee peanuts and shook it in offer, a few crumbs falling into the truck.

He didn't see a tiny three-fingered hand reach out from beneath the engine block and pull them in.

"Wow, you even have minifigures!" Ford's eyes were huge behind his glasses.

"I do," Tad smiled serenely, setting out all his D,D, & more D stuff. "I'm not very good at being a dungeon master though. Would either of you like to take the role?"

Ford wanted to, so so bad, but- "Fiddleford?"

"Gracious, no, I'm fine being a player. Too much to keep track of," Fiddleford looked around Ford's room in interest, steering clear of Stan's stuff that Ford pointed out. Stan did ask them to stay outta it. "I like all the splinters."

"You sound like Stan," Ford laughed. "I hate splinters. You know- yesterday Waddles Jr. was on my bed? Sometimes Grunkle Dipper lets him in the house."

"Pigs are very affectionate creatures," Fiddleford smiled fondly, poking at the stained glass window. The window had a strange design, arrows and diamonds and circles. It looked a little like an anchor, but definitely wasn’t. "I like the design here, very intricate. Looks freshly put in?"

"Yeah, a lot of the windows are new," Ford had noticed as well. "Not sure why they all need to be Waddles-themed or question marks or whatever that thing is, you'd think he could keep the branding to the tourist part of the house."

"There's a recurring issue with property defacement in town." Tad noted, setting out all his dice in neat rows. "People find windows broken and scratches in buildings or landmarks. Very strange. Perhaps Mr Mystery was the most recent victim."

"Really?" Ford reached for the diary. If Fiddleford and Tad were going to tease him on it they would have done it already. "There's no mention of that in this diary."

"I was meaning to ask about that there book of yours," Fiddleford crossed his legs as he sat down. "What is it?"

"It's a diary of someone who came to Gravity Falls, I think they were… maybe a researcher?" It was ambiguous. "But they catalogued all of the weird supernatural stuff here, it's fascinating. And the pages stop halfway through, it's so cool!"

"Gravity Falls is quite unusual," Tad smiled, pulling emergency bread from his backpack. "My parents moved here from the Southwest, they quite like how it reminded them of their old town. Personally, I like how unique it is."

"So you grew up here? Maybe you know some stuff the diary missed?"

"Maybe," Tad shrugged with a smile. "We'll compare some time."

"I'm not very fond of all that spookifying stuff myself." Fiddleford reached for his banjo, plucking the strings in a random pattern. "Back in Tennessee my family would tease me a lot, make up scary stories about things, things that sound like people but aren't, things that live in the fields and watch you, things that take the pigs in the night. Fake stuff, I told myself. But- I swear I saw somethin' in the lake here one time, somethin' big."

"Really?" Ford pulled out a pen. "Where did you see it? Did you get a look at any defining traits?"

"No. I wish I could forget it," Fiddleford sighed and tuned a banjo string. "I don't handle that type of things very well."

"That's okay," Ford hesitated before he patted Fiddleford's shoulder. "You just like other types of science better than cryptozoology, I guess."

"We can phrase it that way, sure," Fiddleford stated dryly. "You sure your brother doesn't want to join us?"

"Nah, Stan said he doesn't wanna play. Je and Grunkle Dipper are gonna watch a movie instead." Ford started setting up D, D, & more D. "Maybe after this you could give me some pointers on my magnet gun idea?"

"Sure can."

Ford smiled as Tad set down a figurine on the graph paper, and rolled the 38-sided die across the back of his fingers, blushing only a little when he fumbled it. He just had to practice.

Fiddleford and Tad were fun to play with, making good use of a Rogue/Cleric duo as they began working through the starter adventure provided by the guide. Ford grew more confident, starting to put his own spin on things, add in new enemies, build towards a twist in the plotline.

They had just cleared their third encounter, a group of coldbolds with a surprise buzzbear from Ford drawn by the noise, and had entered the main starter dungeon when Boyish Dan threw open the door and yelled, "The truck! Ate! Stan!"

Ford dropped the handful of dice he was holding. "What?!"

"I was showing him how to check tire pressure!" Dan pulled off his hat, clutching it in massive hands. His knuckles were raw and red. "I tried punching it and it didn't give him back!"

"Can you get Mr Mystery?" Tad smiled brightly.

"He's doing a tour, he's doing a tour now." Dan fumbled with his hat. "Help?"

"Yes!" Ford yanked his shoes on. He couldn't even be mad that Stan had interrupted his sleepover and his game. How did a car eat someone? "Boyish Dan, did you see anything strange?"

"The back of the truck grew a trunk lid! And scales!"

"Scales…" Ford flipped through the diary. "Here! Gremobiles, it's a type of gremlin- they're a subspecies of the goblin family- that can meld with a vehicle, the author had to fight one that stole a bus and had to rip it out of the engine block." The caricature of the angry monster was super funny, the author gave it a silly face.

"How?" Fiddleford looked over his shoulder, scanning the page as well.

"Grappling hook, apparently." Ford put the diary away. "If my magnet gun was finished I'd use that-"

"I can finish it," Fiddleford promised and pulled out his tools from his belt. "Go get your brother."

"Tad Strange would welcome the excitement of fighting a living vehicle." Tad grabbed a baseball bat from the pile of random stuff that the twins shared the attic with and gave it a twirl.

"Let's go." Ford nodded at him and Dan and rushed down the stairs, past the museum area of the house.

"Behold!" Dipper's voice was muffled by the closed door. "Genuine cursed pirate gold! Look at how the coins turn invisible when removed from the water! Who wants to try and grab a coin? Twenty bucks if you do!"

Ford scoffed at the shameless scam and followed Boyish Dan out to the dirt parking lot, looking for the offending Gremobile.

Dipper's truck did not look like it was supposed to. The faded blue paint had been replaced by green-brown scales, the hood popped open to show the top half of the little monster fused with the engine block. The headlights glowed red and the back, normally open, had more of those scales, grown over the open space. The lil monster had a mohawk, shoving something in its mouth and chomping away. Ford recognised the packaging.

"Toffee Peanuts. That must have been why it ate Stanley!" So maybe Stanley was right about something stealing his snacks.

Ford could hear muffled banging from inside that space and swore his vision went red, like that time Crampelter broke Stanley's nose and knocked out a tooth. Ford hadn’t been as good at boxing as Stanley, but he’d still pounced on Crampelter like a rabid possum, biting and clawing to protect his twin.

"Over here!" He yelled at it. "Everyone spread out, we need to keep it distracted until Fiddleford finishes the magnet gun! Then we can hold the truck still and rip the Gremobile out!" He was gonna break every part of its face. No one hurt Stanley. Not in front of Ford.

Stan's hands hurt from where he'd been trying to punch his way out. He tried not to think about how much his braced wrist- two days 'til that was off- hurt more than the other. It was basically healed anyway, how much damage could he do?

Also- it had started getting really slimy and soft and slippery in here, and that was making it hard to find anything he could hit.

He reached into his pockets, wondering if maybe now was the time for the pocket knife, he didn't think he could smoke bomb his way out. It was dark too, he was too old to be scared of the dark, but-

He heard the engine rev and roar before he was thrown around a bunch, elbows and knees knocking against the sides. The slime coated him and smelt gross, he clamped his mouth and eyes shut, hands over his ears so it didn't get in any of the holes in his face.

There was one massive move that knocked him against the far side, right as it stopped being all soft and squishy and sunlight hit him. "HOT BELGIAN WAFFLES!"

Ow. His head hurt. He cracked open an eye and squinted up at the sky. Ford's face appeared right in front of him and he yelped, leaning back and hitting his head again.

"Stan!" Ford beamed. "You're okay!"

"Sweet Moses, Sixer, warn a guy first," he grumbled. "What happened?"

"You were eaten by a gremobile, which must have gotten a taste for your candy. My magnet gun held it still long enough for Dan to rip it out- Look!" Ford pointed and Stan poked his head out of the truck bed.

Dan held up a tiny weird thing in his massive fist, scaled and green-brown, with a wild mohawk and no legs. It held an empty packet of-

"Hey, my toffee peanuts!"

"Ready for a home run?!" Dan prepared to drop the evil little critter, trying to gnaw through his hand like an angry ferret.

"I'm a bit rusty, but we'll see." Tad stood right beside him with a serene, unblinking smile, and drew back a baseball bat, winding up a swing.

Dan dropped the monster and Tad knocked it clear into the woods, its fading shriek all that was left of it as it went flying off to probably die somewhere. Fiddleford stood beside them and whooped at the sight, holding Ford's magnet gun.

"Okay that was cool." Stan admitted. "Help me up?"

"Uhhhhh-" Ford leaned back from him. "I think that's some sort of mucus. Or saliva. Or- uh, other fluids. I'm good."

Stan looked at the slime covering him and got an evil idea, grinning at his brother as he shifted his weight. Slime time. Ford looked at him, recognition sparking followed by immediate horror.

"Stan? Stanley Pines don't you dare- STANLEY!" Ford shrieked like a girl as he jumped out of the truck, Stan's goop-covered pounce barely missing him.

"Coward!" Stan clambered out of the truck after him, laughing even as he slipped and landed face first in the dirt.

"Ohmygosh are you okay?" Ford dithered, just enough hesitance for Stanley to grab him and smosh ooze into Ford's hair.

"Gotcha!" Stan went for the noogie, really wedge it all in there.

"Ew! What's wrong with you, I don't wanna get slimed!" Ford yelled, but he was giggling as he pushed Stan off.

Stan felt a hand on his shoulder and tensed, looking up as Tad Strange lifted his hand, examined the goo, and slapped his own face with it.

"Slime fight." He looked way too pleased with himself.

"That's no slime fight," Fiddleford chuckled, standing with Boyish Dan with his arms crossed. "When your cousins dunk you in a pig pen- that's a slime fight."

Stanley's eyes sparkled as he glanced at Waddles Jr's shed. Since when were Ford's nerd friends into gross things? And giving him tips on messing with his twin? "Ford?"

"Do it and I'll dye your hair pink." Ford warned him. "I'm not joking, Stanley. Also we need to go wash off."

"C'mon, Fordsy-"

"No, seriously, this is disgusting." Ford's hands hovered over his hair, unwilling to touch the gunk. "Tad, why would you do this willingly?"

"I am driven by an insatiable curiosity."

"I like you, Strange, you and Fidds are pretty cool," Stan announced, brushing himself off a bit. His head wasn't even hurting anymore.

Dan lumbered over to kneel down in front of him, face pulled in a scowl. "I'm sorry you got eaten, little man!"

"All good, big guy," Stan gave him a thumbs up. "You gotta show me more car stuff some time, it's really interesting."

Dan's frown turned into a smile and he hugged Stan so tight it mighta cracked a rib, hefting him off his feet. Stan froze up, fists clenching on instinct and sending a bolt of pain up his hand before he relaxed. He should have figured a hug from Dan would be like getting hugged by a furnace. A furnace with a chokehold.

He patted part of Dan's arm, wheezing the words out. "Gotta breathe, big guy."

"Right!" Dan set him back down. "No injuries?"

"Nope!" Stan gave him a big thumbs up. "Thought I'd have to chew my way out though!"

"That would severely damage your teeth," Ford informed him. "Fiddleford, Tad? You alright?"

"I barely had to see that nasty lil beast," Fiddleford twirled the magnet gun over and over in his hands. "Workin' on a solution sure does help."

"Tad Strange has never felt more alive." Tad hefted the bat across his shoulders, and Stan…

Well, they were Ford's friends first, but maybe he could be okay with them. He could be friendly, or as friendly as he was capable of. These weren't going to be the kinds of kids who played mean games like 'pretend to be a friend to play a mean prank'. That happened once and Stan made sure it wouldn't happen again. Tommy-Tim still had a scar through his eyebrow from where the skin split.

"Whoa- what's going on out here?" All five heads shot to the entryway to the gift shop. Dipper stood with his hands on his hips, some of his Mr Mystery attitude in place.

"Slime fight." Tad informed him.

"It's coolant!" Fiddleford jumped in with a lie before anyone could tell their grunkle about the genuine supernatural creature. Stan clicked his tongue. Ford wouldn't be pleased about that.

"Oh- you should not have that on your skin," Dipper winced. "Anyway- everyone, outta the parking lot and out the back, this tour's on its way out of the gift shop and I don't want anyone getting hit by a tour bus, so go on, get, skoosh, shoo." he waved them towards the back of the clearing.

"Yes, Mr Pines!" Dan agreed, before he physically pushed the truck back into place, because Dan was a beast and Stan was quickly placing him high on the 'cool person' list. Not above Carla, but still.

"And clean up before dinner! Don't get gunk all over my house!" Dipper called as Dan started ushering them around the back, towards Waddles Jr.'s pen.

Fiddleford stopped at the edge, reaching over and giving Waddles Jr. a friendly scratch behind the ear. "Golly, that was terrififying. Are you alright, Stan?"

"Eh," he shrugged it off. His hand would be fine.he punched Ford's shoulder, not too hard. "Told you something was stealing my snacks."

"Okay, okay. You told me so." Ford smiled, punched him back. "Knucklehead."

"Nerd." Stan sat on the grass. "How's your nerd game going anyway?"

All three of them immediately began chattering in excitement, and he felt surprisingly okay with it. Ford and his friends dropped their nerd game to save him from an evil car, maybe that meant something.

Dipper set down a big bowl of popcorn and sat on the couch, aching joints glad of the softness that fit him perfectly after many a movie marathon. "Whatcha picked out, kid?"

"There's so many good ones," Stan looked over all the DVDs, stacked higher than the TV. "You've got a lot."

"Yeah, I got way better stuff than the Gravity Falls Horror Movie Rerun Channel, they exclusively have B-movies." He still watched them though. Guilty pleasure. "I got all the classics."

"How about this one?" Stan held up The Exorcist.

"That's something a responsible parent probably wouldn't let a kid watch," Dipper commented. "Good thing I'm an uncle! Let's do it!"

"Yes!" Stan scrambled to his feet and started setting it up. Dipper watched him as he had some popcorn. The Exorcist, huh? He remembered seeing it in theatres when he was on his own. Scared him half to death at the time. Now he could probably recite the whole script off by heart.

"Got it!" Stan finished setting up and sat back on the rug.

"Hey, you wanna share the couch?" Dipper offered. "And the popcorn?"

"Really?" Stan looked at him, suspicious and hopeful.

"Yeah, get your butt up here or I'm gonna eat it all myself." Dipper pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and tossed it in Stan's face.

Stan laughed and hopped up on the couch, settling in on the other end as Dipper got the lamp, the room plunging into darkness as the title flashed on the screen.

"Grunkle Dipper?"

"Shh. Movie time."

Stan hesitated, voice surprisingly quiet from such a boisterous kid. "Thanks for watching this with me. I know you like Ford's game."

Dipper paused, hand in the popcorn bowl. "Yeah, sure, but who wants to have a sleepover where an old guy plays a board game with them?"

"Ford wouldn't mind. He said once it's a game that's best with more players. And you're smart enough to be great at it, I bet."

"Yeah, true." Dipper didn't want to admit this but fine. "I didn't really… aw man. Look, I-I wasn't a sleepover kid growing up. But-" Mabel and her slumber parties, he used to hate them- "your gramps was. Had 'em all the time."

"Yeah?"

"Yep. I know it can feel-" irritating, lonely, jealous, bitter, what's wrong with me- "annoying, being the one that doesn't want to do what everyone else does."

“Yeah.” Stan pulled his knees up on the couch, wrapping his arms around them.

He reached over and messed up Stan's hair, still damp from where he'd gotten clean. "But you can always come watch a movie with me, kid."

"Heh." Stan smiled, eyes still on the screen. "Cool."

"Yeah, yeah, now shh. You're missing key plot information." Pazuzu was a hack.

"Wow, pancakes with whipped cream and sprinkles?" Ford had never seen so many colours on food before.

"Eh, someone once told me it was perfect sleepover breakfast food." Dipper flipped a pancake over the stove. Ford had been woken early by Fiddleford, who apparently woke with the sun on account of 'farm life'.

It had been weird to see Dipper reading a book when he came downstairs, an arm around a snoring Stan, even as Ford felt a pang of something that wasn't worth investigating. It was good Stan wasn't alone for the night, he probably wouldn't have slept great anyway, they stayed up really late playing MonsterMon after finishing the starter dungeon and defeating the evil wizard, a servant of Probabilitor called Algebraius the Beatable.

"How ya holdin' up there, Stan?" Fiddleford checked in.

Stan had dark rings under his eyes, haggardly cutting into a pancake and nursing a glass of milk the way mom did with her morning coffee. "Pfft, I'm fine. No nightmares at all. That screaming you heard last night was coyotes."

"Well, Tad Strange slept great." Tad had denied the offer of pancakes, instead buttering some of his bread and adding sprinkles to that instead.

"I did too," Ford agreed. "I had a super cool dream, I was playing chess in space." The other details had slipped away, as dreams did.

"Nerd," Stan poked him with a tired laugh. "Of course you did."

Ford poked him back. He didn't remember much else, but… he felt like he was playing chess with a friend.

#gravity falls #dipper pines #stanford pines #stanley pines #fanfic #relativity falls au but Mabel is the Author #the reason for this one is 'i watched gremlins recently and also wanted more Dan'#i love manly dan #gf #my writings

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fostersffff · 1 month ago

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hey foster what the hell is kinnikuman about

Kinnikuman is the story of Japan's Worst Superhero turned Universal Savior, that also (by my current understanding) laid the foundations for what people think of when they think of "A Shonen Series".

It started in 1979 as a gag manga written by two college kids collectively known as Yudetamago who really love pro wrestling, and trucked along for a while doing one-off chapters about a "superhero" named Kinnikuman, who is actually the lost prince of Planet Kinniku (hold onto that for later). They introduce a couple supporting characters here, most notably Terryman (named for professional wrestler Terry Funk), a superhero from the Southern United States, who becomes friends with him after Kinnikuman does his first genuinely heroic act in the series: punching Terryman for charging a kid money to save his dad from a monster (this completely changes Terryman forever).

Sometime later, they hit the first actual story arc: the Superman (Chojin) Olympics, which is where the series first struck upon the winning formula of "what if a bunch of dudes with weird superpowers do professional wrestling moves on each other". It still has it's gag manga sensibilities- Kinnikuman winds up winning all of his matches via shenanigans- but in hindsight it's pretty clear they realized story arcs about tournaments are a really good idea.

After a short arc about Kinnikuman going on a world tour to defend his title (which the anime speedran because they knew what was up), they go back into the Chojin Olympics, which is where the series really seems to have found its footing by still being comedic, but also realizing they can get serious for more compelling action. For example:

Ramenman- a horrifically racist caricature of a savage Chinaman- goes from constantly talking about noodles and China's 4000 Year Tradition and how much he loves murder to forming a mentor-mentee relationship with the son of a chojin he murdered during the previous Olympics, before being put into a vegetative state by arc antagonist Warsman (he gets better). Important to note that Ramenman was and still is one of the most popular characters in this series, easily.

Warsman's manager is revealed to be Robin Mask, the former Chojin Olympics champion Kinnikuman defeated through shenanigans, and who trained Warsman with the specific purpose of getting revenge on Kinnikuman.

Kinnikuman then goes on to defeat Warsman, not with goofy antics, but tapping into his Burning Inner Strength (literally, a Hot Blooded Shonen Power Up) and inventing the Kinniku Buster, a move so cool that professional wrestlers in real life started using it.

And from this point it was basically off to the races with story arcs about a bunch of fucked up dudes who want to wrestle Kinnikuman and/or his friends, including:

Chojin who sold their souls to Satan for strength

Chojin who sold their souls to Satan for strength and stole the source of all Chojin strength in the universe

The source of all Chojin strength in the universe

Space God Chojin

Other Kinnikumans claiming to be the true heirs to the throne of Planet Kinniku (remember what I said about him being a lost prince)

This is when the original series ended, and then about a decade later they launched Kinnikuman Nisei, a Next Generation sequel about Kinnikuman's son. This is most notable for the 4Kids adaptation, Ultimate Muscle- especially seeing as subs for Kinnikuman Nisei basically don't exist, and a third season of episodes was produced specifically to be dubbed.

Years after that, Yudetamago relaunched Kinnikuman in 2011, taking place in the time between the end of the original series and Kinnikuman Nisei and even picking up the chapter/volume numbers, which is still ongoing and quite well received, and just recently started being adapted into a new anime series, the zeroth episode of which speedruns all the important bits from the original series (recapped above), notably leaning more towards action and drama than comedy.

I started checking it out after the new anime started up, and- unless I'm missing something that came before it, which is certainly possible- it's kind of crazy how foundational it feels to everything while not really feeling outdated (except for occasional contemporary-to-the-70's/80's-jokes). New villain(s) show up with some fucked up powers, the heroes have to muster their strength to either outwit or overpower them (or both), more than likely in some kind of tournament-style format, and more likely than not Kinnikuman will make some new friends along the way. In the same way that people often say that you don't know how much Japanese media has the DNA of tokusatsu/Kamen Rider until you actually watch it, Kinnikuman feels like that for Shonen Jump specifically.

I would actually heartily recommend the checking out new anime, again because that zeroth episode gets you primed with everything you need to know about the series and jumps right into "DUDES WITH FUCKED UP SUPERPOWERS WRESTLING".

Oh also critically important to note: that's not his face, it's a mask, and he's the the most beautiful, handsome man in history underneath, but by the laws of the Kinniku Clan neither he nor anyone else in his clan can show their face, which is why they all look Like That.

#Kinnikuman #anime #manga #long post

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darkangel1791 · 11 days ago

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I’m an Environmentalist. That’s Why I Can’t Vote Green.

Award-winning filmmaker and director of Gasland Josh Fox on why he will never vote for Jill Stein.

November 1, 2024

The Nation

Milanville, Pennsylvania—Progressives can truly win in this election, even though we have a moderate Democrat on the ticket. And it’s not by voting for Jill Stein. But first, a little history…

Not long ago the entire upper Delaware River basin in Pennsylvania—one of the most beautiful areas in the country, in the watershed for New York City, southern New Jersey and Philadelphia—was on the chopping block for fracking.

A 75 mile stretch of the Delaware River could have become a toxic oil field. Fracking is an environmental apocalypse: millions of gallons of toxic fracking fluids, radioactive waste, underground water contamination, hundreds of thousands of truck trips, air pollution, land scarring, massive public health crises, and depleted water supply. Everything about the practice is toxic; it is inherently contaminating in the long and short term.

Our community was quick to understand the threat and organize and mobilize against it. Every little town along the Delaware across New York and Pennsylvania had a mom-and-pop anti-fracking group spring up. My film Gasland, on HBO, was part of this campaign, and our Gasland tours went from town to town, Johnny Appleseed–style, fostering our new movement.

Amazingly, we won. We banned fracking in the Delaware River basin and in New York State, saving the water supply for 16 million people. One of the greatest achievements of the environmental movement in this century.

We did this by convincing the Democratic governors of New York and Delaware and the president at the time—Barack Obama—to ban fracking here. These were all moderate Democrats. Not exactly Bernie Sanders, if you know what I mean.

I consider myself far to the left of Andrew Cuomo and Barack Obama. But I know that if those moderate Democrats hadn’t been in office, there’s no way we would have won.

Republicans would have just said no. This whole place would have been completely fracked to hell. We would have lost. And the whole gorgeous, life-giving national treasure of the Delaware River would have been a toxic fracking zone.

Our victory against fracking kept more carbon and methane in the ground than almost any other single environmental win in history—making it a huge win for the climate as well.

Here is the key point: I’m not in love with Kamala Harris’s positions on fracking. I find it utterly infuriating when moderate Democrats think that they need to pay lip service to a toxic destructive climate monster of an industry to win Pennsylvania. I don’t actually think that is true, because studies have shown that 70 percent of Pennsylvania residents want fracking either banned or much more tightly regulated.

But I don’t need to be in love. I need to be able to vote strategically.

Hundreds of thousands of people showed up to protect this place and to hold moderate Democrats accountable, and that was the key to victory here.

You know who didn’t show up for this place? Jill Stein. She doesn’t show up for these frontline battles. Ever.

Stein says she’s against fracking, but Stein has hundreds of thousands of dollars invested in the oil and gas industry. Did you know that? Did you know that she actually profits off of the oil and gas industry, that she has had investments in the Keystone XL pipeline and multiple fracking companies?

Did you know that she has investments in Raytheon, that she’s had investments in ExxonMobil? Did you know that she has investments in Home Depot—one of the most rapacious companies in the world, guilty of horrific deforestation throughout the world?

How is it that the Green Party candidate hasn’t divested her own personal fortune from fossil fuels? It’s sheer hypocrisy. And so is the strategy of running for president every four years but never showing up for battles like this.

In 2016, Stein defended these investments by saying they are mutual funds and indexed retirement funds.

But that, plainly speaking, is bunk.

Her claims are a slap in the face to the entire fossil fuel divestment movement. It is easier now than ever to have investments that are fossil free; doing so is a huge plank of the environmental cause. Hundreds of real activists were arrested this summer in New York City calling for Citibank to divest as part of the Summer of Heat campaign. For Stein to ignore all this and still attempt to call herself an activist is beyond hypocrisy, it is political malpractice. Shame on you, Dr. Stein! Shame on you for profiting from fracking and oil drilling.

I’m not in love with Kamala Harris’s positions—on fracking, and on some other issues. But I will tell you what I am in love with. I’m in love with our movements.

I’m in love with what we can do. The entire history of progressive progress in this country is of movements pushing moderate presidents. It happened with FDR and the labor movement. It happened with LBJ and the MLK and the civil rights movement. It happened with Obama and Biden and the movement for gay marriage. We organize and push them—and that’s how we get what we want. That’s our progressive history in America.

But in order for us progressives to do our jobs and fight effectively for a more just and equitable world as a movement, we need to have Harris in office. If we have Donald Trump in office, there’s no chance in hell that we’re actually going to advance an environmental agenda.

So I urge you to please believe in us as a movement. Love us. Believe in our power. We have done this before—and we can do it again with a moderate Democrat in office. Which is the only choice we’ve got right now.

If everyone in who voted for Stein in Pennsylvania, Wisconsin, and Michigan had voted for the Democrat instead, Trump would never have been the president.

We have the true power. It comes from the bottom up.

And I believe in us.

A vote for Harris is a vote for us, a vote for our movements to have a fighting chance for change. Progressive politics and advancing our agenda in this country is not something that happens every four years when you vote, or every four years when a toxic egomaniac like Stein (or Trump, for that matter) runs for president. It is a daily commitment. So vote for Kamala Harris. Join the movement—and I’ll see you on the front lines.

#jill stein #green party #election 2024 #us politics #us elections #kamala harris #harris for president #vote democrat

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countmothra · 5 months ago

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More misc. Abbey operation thoughts because I’m insane.

• There is an Infirmary of sorts within the abbey that will deal with the populations more minor to moderate health problems. But for anything severe like broken bones and serious and chronic illnesses they go to the nearest hospital for licensed medical attention.

• The abbey also has a Nursery/Daycare area because there are obviously kids living in the abbey because some siblings of sin come into the church already with kids or choose to have kids.

•Speaking of which, and going off an old headcannon of mine. Children in the abbey are raised communally, sure they know who their parent(s) are but everyone pitches in regardless of if it’s their kid or not. Only exception is Emeritus kids, they are raised ONLY by their immediate family (parent/s, siblings, grandparents) to make sure they have as much exposure to their future role as possible.

• Some of the siblings plan activity nights. Be it making crafts, watching a movie or playing board games, it’s all meticulously planned with sign up sheets and a suggestion box.

•Every six months there is 100% a day where EVERYONE in the abbey is tasked with deep cleaning. Nobody is safe from cleaning day. Ghouls, siblings, papas, higher clergy member, everyone is put to work scrubbing every last stone in that abbey until it shines. The chapel of ritual stinks like dead human sacrifice and Sister Imperator is tired of it.

• Old lady knitting club. Just a bunch of the oldest sisters of sin knitting and talking shit. Imperator goes on Fridays to decompress and gossip.

•there are secret passages in the abbey that some of the teenage inhabitants of the abbey hide in to do the typical rebellious teenage things like smoke weed and drink the wine they stole off the altar.

•BIG! LIBRARY! Books, lots of ‘em! All over! Just a whole bunch of physical media meticulously stored in a library for anyone to use for any purpose. Books? Hell yeah! Vinyl records? Of course! Cassette tapes? You bet! CD’s? Whole section of them! Film reels? They may not be pristine but they got those too! VHS tapes, DVD’s, they have it all archived.

•jobs for each and every sibling and ghoul are posted on a bulletin board outside of imperators office, just in case anyone forgets.

•piggybacking off my last batch of headcannons, they definitely sell some of their excess produce when the Papas aren’t actively touring. Money is still coming in from albums and whatnot, sure, but it’s nice for the ministry to have that little extra cash.

•The papas teach some of the religion classes and it’s a gamble on who they teach because their class could be made up of adults just entering into the fold or literal toddlers who can’t even spell “cat” yet.

Which brings me to silly scenarios that have 100% happened because I said so.

• Primo had to teach toddlers once. They did not care about the simplified version of how Lucifer fell, all they cared about was the sick new monster truck in the toy chest. Primo did have to admit that this monster truck was pretty cool as it was one of the cars where you pull it back enough and it goes forward on its own. (You know what I’m talking about)

• The old ladies in the knitting club are old enough to remember when each of the Emeritus boys were born. So whenever a rumor spreads about one of those boys, they are the first ones to discuss it. “Did you hear that Nihils youngest boy got drunk and started doing the most bizarre things to the furniture?” “Terzo?” “No! The younger one! Copia I think his name is… oh I remember when he was just a tot…” these devolve into wandering down memory lane.

• When Imperator goes, it’s mostly to gossip and drink wine. She’ll maybe knit a scarf…maybe…

• Terzo taught a class of teens once, and never again. Two teen girls pointed out how damaged his skin was and that he did a shit job covering his grays with box dye. He never wants to do that again.

• During those big cleaning days twice a year, it’s never the chapel that’s the filthiest, it’s the ghouls quarters. It’s always the ghouls quarters.

#ghost bc #the band ghost #shitghosting #nameless ghouls #cardinal copia #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus i #papa nihil #sister imperator #i’m thinking thoughts #also the weed teenagers steal is 100% from primos garden #he notices it’s missing #and he knows where it’s going #but he did the same thing when he was a teen so he can’t judge

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britt-kageryuu · 6 months ago

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Leo is looking through memes while his model is stretched out on an inflatable sofa with a sealife theme. The model is in small black shorts, a large space themed Pullover hoodie, and blue ankle socks. River is laying onto of his shell reading a book.

Leo found a meme that had an Aligator arguing with an Aligator Snapping Turtle about if they're related, "Hey this gator meme reminds me of the time when went to Gatorland! It was pretty amazing. Everyone just split up, and went to different parts of the park, and looked at as much as we could. Mandarin was found somehow getting into a tortoise enclosure." He lets out a laugh at the memory.

A notification goes off with a graphic of a cartoony Leo opening a portal that dropped the name and amount of the donation, which fell into another portal a few seconds later.

"Okay 'do you have any bad jokes that almost or did get you hit by one of your brothers?' why yes, how did it go again?... 'We had quite the bill from starting construction that didn't shake me, but the impact fees sure knocked me off my feet!'" Leo is giving a wide grin, looking right into the camera.

There were mixed reactions to the joke in the chat, but many wanted to hear more about the trip to Gatorland.

"Alright, alright, back to the reptile park. We all just kinda got stuck in the splash area, but hey it was a hot day. Red loved feeding the baby gators, Dee and I loved Jawlene a Gator that's missing her upper jaw." Leo pauses to catch his breath for a second, "We all loved the monster truck swamp tour, Red sat out on the zipline, he was a bit to heavy, the mechanical aligator was an amazing challenge. And Dee made an attempt to steal some eggs, for science! Right, what science would involve stealing a Gator from a Stupidly popular attraction?"

He goes through a few more memes before pausing on a meme about turtles. One being a softshell getting mad at being called 'Pancake' his name is 'Taco!'

"Dee would hate being called Pancake, or Taco, or any food. They would probably turn me into food." He says without a hint of a joking tone. Which kinda scares the chat, before some point out some of Donnies unhinged moments.

Then he finds alot of memes based around the VTurtles!

"You guys have been making so many memes, just how many-" He stops when he finds a few memes based on him and Uasgi getting married. "WHAT?!"

He rapidly scrolls through the many memes, fanart, and for some reason fanfiction, and questions the chat the more he scrolls.

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

Masterpost

#rottmnt au #tmnt au #rottmnt leonardo #rottmnt leo #rise leo #rise leonardo #rottmnt fanfiction #tmnt fanfiction #VTurtles!#rottmnt leosagi #rottmnt leoichi #rottmnt #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2018 #rise tmnt #rise of the tmnt

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lalaballa · 7 months ago

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Notes on The World’s First Ever Monster Truck Front Flip:

What if Lizzy and Genie refer to Thin Lizzy and Bowie's Jean Genie?

You and Lizzy in the summertime // Wrappin' my tiny mind round a lullaby

Tlsp, NME interview 19/1/08

Plus: Alex in 2018 debunked the Lana del Ray association: In an interview with Beats 1 at the Osheaga festival on 4th August, Alex Turner debunked this rumour stating, “No, its not [a reference to Lana del Ray]… it’s an objective correlative.” (Genius)

And... sweet info: "The Boys Are Back In Town" was the first song played post gig during The Car tour 🥹

You and Genie wearing Stetson hats // Tryna gain access to my lily pad...

I'm just a bad girl tryna be good // I've got a laser guidin' my love that I cannot adjust

Verse 1 and Chorus of Jean Genie, from Bowie's Aladdin Sane:

Genius notes are very interesting: "Apart from just the part of a chimney that sticks out above a roof? Possibly he’s talking about dicks. We already know that the Jean Genie spends a lot of time “on his back,” and “chimney stacks” are pretty phallic as images go. Plus, the name “Jean Genie” has been associated with the (gay, male) French existentialist Jean Genet. So the lyrics might be suggesting here that Jean Genie likes the D. Or it could be a nonsense phrase. It definitely wouldn’t be the first or last time Bowie stuffed his songs full of nonsense phrases."

Alex and Miles LOVE Aladdin Sane:

1. The singer also revealed why he’s had enough of David Bowie’s track ‘Time’. “I’ve been trying to fix a humming in my home stereo – it’s in the right speaker,” he said. “David Bowie’s album ‘Aladdin Sane’ has been sitting on the turntable so I’ve been playing ‘Time’ – the first song on the second side – whenever I’ve tried to solve the problem. I must have heard that song thousands of times this week… I’ll never be able to listen to it again.” NME, 19/3/13

2. AT: I love the whole Ziggy Stardust period, with “Hang on to yourself”, “Five Years” and “Rock ’n’ Roll Suicide”. But it’s true that “Aladdin Sane” is incredible, it’s got “Drive-in Saturday” and, above all, the grandiose “Lady Grinning Soul”. X

So, what if Lizzy and Jeanie invoke a certain mood or memory in the narrator's life? Who/What are they?

* ps. regarding milex references in WFEMTFF, "in the mood for love" is for miles and I will die on this hill !!

#alex turner #arctic monkeys #tbhc #the world's first ever monster truck front flip #lyric theories #milex

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little-reader · 2 years ago

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“The Son of A Monster” Ch.3

Masterlist

Carl grimes x Male!Reader

Warnings; Death, blood, Slow-burn Sexual tension, Gay awakening (For both), Cursing, Negan is Readers dad, Enemies to lovers story. Fighting. Zombie apocalypse

Rick wasn’t there, nor was Aaron. You found a place where Iris could stay. The woman you met last time, Olivia. She looked slightly scared again once you got into view. You left Iris alone to unpack.

You moved your bat off the couch and onto the carpet floor, sitting down as your dad was talking to Olivia. “Dad!” You said, eyes wide when you heard the words come out of his mouth. A hard smack across the face echoed throughout the room when Olivia slapped him. Your dad only flirted back. “Jesus.” You muttered.

Olivia left to make lemonade, forcibly, and you got up so you could have a “Grand House tour”. “Dad, you don't have to touch everything.” You muttered, walking around as he took off his shoes. “And that's gross.”

Carl only stayed silent and watched as Negan played around with everything. A “heater” ended up being a baby in the last room. Your dad instantly picked her up. You touched her hair as she looked at you. “Haven’t seen one since… what 2 years ago.” You said, taking your hand away. Your dad only nodded as he took the kid outside.

The sunlight flicked as the trees shook, and the breeze was light from the window in the room. You looked around the bedroom that Iris stayed in. Small, but comfortable, away from others like your dad. You laid back as you looked at the books across the room. You were mainly giving the place a nice glance over. You wanted Iris to be safe and sound, with no threats around her.

“I’m done.” She said, coming into the room with wet hair and a towel. You hummed as she closed the door and sat on the bed, drying her hair.

“What ya’ wearing?” You asked, looking at the suitcase and back. She shrugged and looked over. “You don’t know? What about ragged jeans? You know the cool hippie ones?” You joked. She slapped your knee and sighed, taking the towel off and looking through the suitcase for the “perfect outfit”. “Niceee.” You hummed. She scoffed and started changing.

Sitting up, you sighed and stood. “I’ve got to be there when Rick gets back.” kissing her head, you went to the door. “Stay in here until I tell you to come out, I don't want anyone pestering you.” She only nodded as you closed the door and left down the stairs. Your guessing you didn’t miss anything, because the trucks at the gate were still there, along with the men.

You walked past the street, into the other patch of grass where Negan stood talking to a man. A pool table on the road, and a stick in his hand. Your dad smiled, but fury set in his eyes. The small crowd around watched them talk as you got closer. Negan sat the stick down. “The guy who waited for Rick to be gone so he could sneak over and talk to me to get me to do his dirty work, so he could take Rick’s place.” A small pause, you took a second, and looked over at him, then at the man. Fuck. “So I gotta ask – If you wanna take over, why not kill Rick yourself and just take over?” He asked, now in his face as the man shuddered.

“Dad.” You said, only for him to raise his hand in your direction.

“You know what I’m thinking? Cause I got a guess.” He said, leaning back, and then getting back in his face. “It’s because you got” A small pause. “no guts.” He whispered.

“Dad!” You yelled as the man was sliced open by the stomach. The man fell to his knees, holding his organs in his hands. You stared wide-eyed at the man, taking a step forward before he pushed you back.

“Ohh, how embarrassing!” he went on. You spaced out, looking at the man, and how his blood dripped out. Not that you haven’t seen it before, but it only proved that your dad was getting worse.

Negan started waving the bat around asking if they wanted to finish the game.

A loud shot rang, then another, you were dazed, your eyes even wider than before as you looked at your father, the bullet didn’t hit him, but his bat, which was twice as worse as hitting him. You felt the blood trickle down your face, it was cut but only a small scrape. “Aw, fuck.” You muttered, touching your face. That is when he started to yell. Rosita was slammed to the ground, and a knife was pressed to her cheek.

Your dad carefully examined the bullet. It was hand-made, and not like the ones you took a few days ago.

You don't feel like being here when another person dies. “I’m gonna go… inside.” You said, tripping over your foot a bit. Negan only grabbed you, checking your face before sending you on your way. Which wasn’t far, you heard their voices as you entered the Grimes home and sat on the couch, another gunshot, You sighed and left to the bathroom to clean your wound and stitch it up.

You didn’t see Carl until the morning, very early in the morning. He was sneaking around, putting his shoes on, and leaving. You groaned as you sat up, pulling your shoes on your feet and taking a cigarette out. You grabbed your tank top and pulled it on before heading back out, slowly shutting the door without a sound. You looked back and forth. You could see him moving around the streets.

You followed him, staying out of the light, and into the other side of the town, where the solar panels sat. You looked around, but there wasn’t anything to see. He probably wandered to another place, and you didn’t exactly enjoy following him around… kind of.

You sighed, turned around, and started walking. You ended up in front of the gate. “Hey!” There was a shadow on the post, looking down at you. “You can’t go out there.” They yelled, then Shown a light in your face.

You covered your face, looking at them with one eye. “C’mon Rosita, Just a drive?” You said, waving your knife around with a grin. She only paused, then sat the light down and climbed the latter down.

“If you get bit,., I’m not letting you in, I don’t give a shit who you are.” She said, opening the gate as you walked out.

“Eh, I think I’ll be fine. Have a nice day, doll.” You said, leaving out into the street. You could barely see, but there was no noise. No shuffling of bushes, the break of a stick, or your dad scolding you.

You hummed, closing your eyes and breathing in the air. You were about half a mile out by now, and the sun was starting to rise. You could see a small clearing of the sky through the leaves of the trees. “Fuck.” You muttered, looking at the small group of ten biters down the road. You jumped the ditch and headed into the woods. You ran farther into the trees, only almost falling into more walkers before finally resting against a tree and onto the ground.

“Jesus fuck.” Your side hurt, with the cuts on your torso bursting with rage and your legs wanting to kill you right now, you decided to rest there for a bit, until you could walk forty minutes back home.

—-- Carl’s POV—--

Carl woke up early. He sat in his room staring at the ceiling for more than an hour until he got bored and got up. He grabbed his flannel and pants, before leaving downstairs. He turned on the flashlight, tip-toeing past his parent's room and towards the stairs. Shining the flashlight in the living room where You slept, he walked in, checking the time. 5 am. He looked at you. You didn’t sleep with a blanket, just a pillow and pants. Your face was covered by hair, but he could see your eyes and the way you slowly breathed. He could tell, just by looking at you, that you could be a value to someone, like a bodyguard.

He shuffled back, hitting the coffee table then looking back at you, hearing you grunt. He let out a breath before going around the couch to the door, grabbing his shoes, and setting down the flashlight. He stood on one foot, trying to balance as he put his shoe on. He heard you shuffle around on the couch before he left out the door.

Carl sighed as he walked down the stairs and turned the flashlight off. He checked his side, making sure the knife still stayed on his hip. He made his way through the solar panels and ran to the wall, climbing over it before landing on the ground, brushing off the leaves as he headed into the woods.

He didn’t know where he was going, he wasn’t even supposed to be out. But he felt. Good. Being out the walls, away from Negan and his son. He killed a few walkers on his way. The light peering in allowed him to see the ground and around the trees. He stood for a second, in and out, before walking again. It was quiet, or maybe he was out of it. Because as he walked, there was no sound whatsoever.

He was deep in the woods when he encountered a large group of walkers that he could not take alone. He felt like with every turn he took they multiplied as he ran.

“FUCK!” You yelled, getting slammed into and crashing to the ground. “What the fuck-” You looked over to see Carl trying to stand, then looked over to the large crowd. “Oh fuck.” You breathed. You grabbed Carl, pushed him to your chest, and rolled into the trench beside you, getting into the hollow part.

Your back was out and Carl was pressed against the wall of the cave, his back was covered. You put your finger up to your lips as they passed above you. “Fuck, that hurt.” You whispered

He looked confused. His bright eyes looked into yours. You examined his face. He had small freckles at the edge of his face, along with a bit of stubble on his chin. His eyes were blue as blue could be, with even darker around the edges. “You know, your nice quiet.” You whispered with a laugh.

He only rolled his eyes and looked away from you, taking his knife out of his pocket. “Shit. I need you to grab mine.” Your hand was currently occupied, one on the roof of the cave, not sure if it would stay up, the second around and under Carl’s torso.

He sat his knife on your side and reached down, feeling around your shirt. “Where is it?” He whispered back. “In the front, or on my side.” You said, looking back behind you, you groaned. “Fuck.”

“What?” He asked, pausing. You laughed, turning back to him, and you got closer to his body, pressing against him, your head close to his ear. “What are you doing-”

“One, They’ll see me if I don't get closer, 2,” You said, looking at him with one eye. “Let's just say you weren’t just grabbing my knife.” He quickly pulled his hand away with a weird look and gave you his knife.

You could feel his breath on your neck, how sometimes it would stop and pause, then continue. You could feel his chest move, and his legs shift against yours. You could tell you’d be here for a while. And hopefully, none of them will wander down here, but if you got out now, you both would be trapped with them down here.

You could feel your stomach growl and turn, “Shit, you got anything to eat?” You asked. He hummed and reached down again, digging in his pocket. He handed you a protein bar, it was already opened but barely eaten. You pushed yourself back, face to face once again. Then you broke the bar in half. “Here, eat some.”

“I’m not-” You cut him off. “It's barely been eaten, I'm sure you haven't eaten since last night.” You said he took it, taking a bite out of it. You huffed, still hearing the groans of the dead. You got in the same position as earlier. “I hope you know this is not me being nice.” You said.

“I never said it was,” Carl replied back. He shifted once again, this time his hips. His legs were now mostly between yours, his arms to his chest and head against your neck. “Don’t tell my dad either, he’ll get a person to guard the walls, not just the front.”

“Fine, don’t tell mine either, he’ll think I came out here for cigs and looking for old stashes of drugs.” You said, sighing. “It's dangerous! Y/n, what is wrong with you? Why can’t you just follow the rules?” You mocked your dad's voice. “Trust me, he can suck a slim-jim.” You muttered. ‘

You felt Carl's chest bouncing. “Are you laughing?” You asked, smirking. He coughed a bit and shook his head slightly. You hummed and closed your eyes. “You're a badass grimes.” You stated. “Shoving me off a goddamn truck, then killing a bunch of men. I liked one of them you know…”

A hand covered your mouth, hushing you. “They can hear you know?” He said sarcastically. You only nodded and took his hand off your mouth.

“I ramble on when I’m with people, I don’t do good with silence.” You whispered.

About ten minutes later, you peered behind yourself. “I’m gonna look out, I don't hear them anymore.” You said, sliding out of the shallow trench. You stood, then turned. “Shit.” You said, ducking, putting your finger to your lips and a hand out. “Shut up and stay there.”

Carl looked at you with narrowed eyes and backed into the hollow part even more. You passed his knife back to him and stood, looking above him and climbing the trench. It went quiet for a few seconds, you could hear him moving around, the leaves crunching with each step. “Please help!” You yelled, then fell to the ground, face first.

Voices soon started to come closer.

They were laughing. Two men. That's when he heard you groan.

“He’s alive? Hey pal, you good?” One of the men asked. Shuffling was heard again. “Hey, aw look at his face V.”

You smirked, and in a quick move, you stabbed the man in his neck and kicked the other down, “You little shit!” You were shoved into the trench, landing on your arm. You looked at Carl, a sarcastic wink his way and putting a finger to your lips.

The man jumped down, sliding slightly, before standing straight, “C’mere ya’ brat.” You were grabbed by the neck and thrown back down. You laughed, coughing as you did, and grabbed your knife, hitting him right in the calf and moving over. He screamed in pain and charged toward you. You swung at him, and your hand made contact with his face, but only for him to yank you by it, and moved to him.

He dug his knee into your back and threw the knife out of your reach. You struggled and he laughed. “Now look at you! Weak.” He said, punching you in the stomach, and face, and kicking you repeatedly. You groaned as he got off of you. You closed your eyes. Your whole body felt like fire, you’ve felt the pain many times before, but it Hurt.

Carl swung his knife over, hitting the man's farm but only grazing it. “That's why he did that, e was protecting you,” The man said in a baby voice. “What is he? Your brother?” He asked. Carl stayed quiet.

You opened your eyes, looking at the man. He was much larger than Carl, and Carl had a smaller knife that could barely go into a chicken bone. You slowly got up, watching them fight, and it was more in slow motion for you. As you moved more, the pain slowly decreased and you came back into reality.

You breathed in and ran for it, pulling the man down with you and turning him over, sitting on him. You threw a punch, then another, and another, and another, it felt like forever before you stopped.

Carl watched you cave the man's head in, his blood spewing everywhere, on your face, clothes, and hair. Everywhere.

You got off the man. Well, now a man with no head. You shook your hand and stepped away, turning around and examining your knuckles. You then looked up, pacing Towards Carl and grabbing him by the collar.

“I told you not to come out.” You shook him. “I told you to be quiet and stay.” You only got angrier. You threw him down.

“Fuck you too. I was helping your ass,” Carl said, pissed. You laughed and turned, grabbing your knife.

“Yeah fuck me.” You said.

It was about 7 in the morning by then. You both climbed the trench, helping each other before finding a road. When you finally reached the gate, you were met by Rick, Rosita, and Michonne. You waved and walked past them. “Scold him, not me,” You said.

“You can just wander off like that,” Rick said, taking your appearance in. “What the hell happened?” He asked, then looked at Carl.

“I saved your son's ass, your welcome.” You said. “Tell him not to sneak out.” You mumbled and left down the street and into Olivia's house, now your wife's home. You walked up the stairs and knocked on her bedroom door.

“Y/n… Jesus.” She said, looking up and down.

“Like what you see?” You laughed, she only took your hand and laid you down. “Fuck… How’s…” You paused and pointed to her stomach.

“Hm, they're fine.” She said, taking out a few things from the cabinet. “I think, though, I’m sure they miss their dad.” She laughed, and you jokingly scoffed, pulling her over. “I have to clean you up, stop.”

You hummed. “I’m so tired.” You said. “C’mon bestie, you don’t need to be so mean.” You whined as she pulled away and hit your thigh. You fell asleep as she took care of you.

Chapter 4

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writefullyrobin · 2 days ago

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No spoilers past 2x10 if possible folks!

2x01 – Under Pressure thoughts

OK. Wow. New season and there seems to be loads to unpack with just the first episode!

Let’s start with the two new characters!

Firstly Maddie – her intro was downright hilarious! Buck expecting Abby and finding his sister in the shower instead was not on my bingo card. I have a younger sibling myself and the idea of not being in contact with them for years just makes my heart ache. She’s definitely running from her ex-husband who even with just one phone call I would happily throw him off a cliff. He sounds like a real monster and I bet he looks attractive and unassuming because the worst monsters can always hide in plain sight. I’m super glad she’s here. And played by Jennifer Love Hewitt!! I love JLH so much. Ghost Whisperer was one of my favourite shows back in the day. Buck having some family around this season could be fun. He felt very adrift compared to the other’s last season and I just put it down to him being in his mid-twenties and having bounced around a bit as some people do at that age.

I love that Maddie is going to work at dispatch! I had wondered how they were going to deal with Abby’s absence because I loved seeing the dispatch side of things last season, so I’m really happy we’re not losing that. I also absolutely loved that she called attention to the fact that Abby’s tour of Europe definitely involves her banging other guys. Sorry Buck.

Secondly Eddie - *side eyes* did they seriously play “Whatta Man” for his introduction? I agree with Chim, he a very beautiful man and I appreciated the shirtless scene. And the slow mo… this scene gave off such “new love interest has arrived” vibes (the man was shirtless, if they didn’t want to emphasise how attractive he is, they wouldn’t have done that). And it ain’t for Bobby or Hen. Our two single boys are Chim and Buck, and Chim didn’t have any weird jealousy vibes going nor did he do a turn with a heavy camera focus on his rection to seeing said new guy which leaves… Buck?!

Who was so jealous of Eddie’s place in the team he genuinely didn’t seem to know what to do with himself. And I get it. Buck worked hard through season 1 to earn his place (and earn it he did) and to have someone who has just graduated from the academy be so competent must have been a little frustrating.

Their first big rescue together though… wow. All you could see flashing through Bobby’s mind was “oh my god, there’s two of them”. It was a speedrun to a brilliant partnership. (“we might end up real close” – is that foreshadowing rearing its head?)

I’m leaning towards the idea that Abby’s role in Buck’s life has been split between Maddie and Eddie – Maddie for the professional job and Eddie for the love interest. Time will tell if my guess is right but Buck was so prevalent in both their intros it would make sense.

Also, what sort of historical expert doesn’t know the difference between live and practice rounds?!

The big leftover plot from the end of season 1 is Bobby and Athena and I might’ve squealed when she kissed him against the fire truck! I was so happy to see they’ve kept that going and they seem to be going strength to strength! Athena has some fears, which is justified. It’s scary moving forward and being together outside that cosy bubble they’ve built up. I loved Michael’s little pep talk for her. I’m relieved their friendship is still good.

I adore Chim and Hen’s friendship and hope we see more of it this season now Buck might’ve found his own partner and Chim no longer has a rebar through his brain(!). Her submitting a proper photo of Chim that showed him as the hero he really is was just so sweet. I’m really happy he got picked for the calendar.

And what was that ending?! Oh yeah, earthquake everyone! Oops sorry, it’s the end episode! Cruel!

#robin watches #911 abc #911 fox #911 season 2 #bobby nash #evan buckley #hen wilson #athena grant #chimney han #maddie buckley #eddie diaz #bathena #henren

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asburyparkrp · 1 month ago

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OCTOBER NEWSLETTER

Tourist season has finally come to an end! Beachgoers no longer have to pay admission or show a season badge to access the beach, and evenings on the Asbury boardwalk come with that crisp, cool air that feels really nice, not to mention the sweet smell of apple cider donuts. Shifting gears from summer solidly into fall, you start to see pumpkin decorations on porches and leaves turning yellow and bright orange. Exciting!

ooc note: Here are all of the activities your character can do around town this month! Feel free to incorporate them into starters, social media posts (don't forget to tag #asburymedia), and anything else you come up with!

ZOMBIE WALK ON THE BOARDWALK

That's right, the Zombie Walk is back! What is a Zombie Walk? It is an organized public gathering of people who dress up like zombies and then make their way around city streets in an orderly fashion for fun.

The Asbury Park Zombie Walk is consistently one of the Garden State’s largest Halloween-season gatherings. Everyone is invited to join in for a day of thrills, chills and laughter throughout the community. Zombies of all ages participate in this family-friendly event. Best of all, the Zombie Walk is completely FREE!

WONDER BAR

Howl-O-Ween Bash: Dress your pet in costume for a chance to win prizes at this dog-friendly event featuring live music and doggie treats for the best costume winner!

Monster Mash: Enjoy local bands performing Halloween-themed sets, with a costume contest for attendees.

CONFECTIONS OF A ROCKSTAR

Fall Treats Workshop: Join a fun baking class where participants create fall and spooky themed desserts.

ASBURY LANES

Halloween Bowling Night: Enjoy glow-in-the-dark bowling with Halloween music and costume prizes.

HORIZON BAR AND GRILL

Pumpkin Carving Contest: Guests will carve pumpkins on-site, with prizes for the best designs. $5 to enter, with $100, $50, and $30 prizes going to the top three pumpkins.

SILVERBALL RETRO ARCADE

Retro Halloween Costume Party: Dress up as your favorite arcade character for a night of FREE arcade games.

BLACK LOTUS TATTOO

Halloween Flash Sale: A selection of spooky tattoo designs available at a discount all month long.

GROOVY GRAVEYARD

Vinyl Swap & Spooky Story Night: Bring your vinyl records to trade and enjoy spooky tales.

SUNSET DINER

Fall Breakfast Specials: Special breakfast menu items, including pumpkin pancakes.

PARANORMAL BOOKS/THE PARANORMAL MUSEUM

Ghost Hunting Workshop: Learn about paranormal investigation techniques, followed by a night tour.

Paranormal Investigation Night: A guided investigation exploring the museum’s haunted artifacts.

JOHN ABBOTT ELEMENTARY SCHOOL

Fall Festival: A family-friendly event with games, food trucks, and a pumpkin patch.

Community Pumpkin Patch: Pumpkin picking, games, and a costume parade for kids.

SANDOVAL DOLLAR

Dollar Drink Night: Affordable drinks with a Halloween theme.

Spooky Trivia Night: A Halloween-themed trivia night with fun prizes.

ECLIPSE

Halloween Masquerade Ball: A spooky fabulous night of dancing with a costumed theme. $20 entry.

SHOWROOM CINEMA

Horror Film Festival: Screenings of classic horror films every weekend.

Cult Classic Series: Screenings of cult classic horror films with themed snacks.

VOODOO DOUGHNUT

Witching Hour Doughnut Tasting: Sample special Halloween-themed doughnuts.

MOVIES AT THE BARONET ROOFTOP (THE ASBURY HOTEL) OCTOBER 4/5/6 — Carrie (1976) OCTOBER 11/12/13 — Scream (1996) OCTOBER 18/19/20 — The Witch (2015) OCTOBER 25/26/27 — Halloween (1978) OCTOBER 31 — The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974)

BIRTHDAYS 🎉 OCTOBER 9 — Hollis Jones

#asburynewsletter #october newsletter

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glitterge1pen · 2 years ago

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Have you ever stood in an empty hallway and been put into 2005-2009?

Rukawa Kaede x reader, sfw, fluff, word count 3,490

guys I've done it again I have wrote something vague and tender

Stadium Operations Manger had not been the job you thought you would find yourself in. At least according to the results of the career aptitude test you took in high school.

Scheduling and preparing the stadium for events was your main job. Working with musicians teams to figure out how their touring stage would fit in your space. What nights were for basketball or hockey or monster jam trucks.

What charity wanted to sing at that hockey game? And there's a new food vendor right? These were questions you handed off to other people, the managers beneath you. With a walkie talkie, clipboard, and google calendar you hoped yourself invincible.

That was of course until Rukawa. His name squeezes its way out of the corner of your mouth, it tingles the tip of your nose and turns the ends of your ears hot. Your staff in aprons, yellow crowd control vests, and black security jackets moves out of your way as you pass.

There is twenty minutes until the doors open and then another hour until the game.

Your shoes clunk on the tiled floor, your legs burning from the fast pace. Where could he be this time? You were almost back at where you had started and there was no sign of him.

Pressing on the walkie you ask if anyone has seen him. They don't have to ask who. But he is still amiss and you don't know if you should be angry or impressed.

Deciding that he can wait just a couple minutes you walk over to the glass wall that overlooks the city. In the summer doors lead to a rooftop cafe, a balcony, but now in the colder months the doors are locked and you can only look.

At night the lights and reflections of the city are like rain. You often find yourself taking in this exact view, either on the first floor or higher up on the third floor where you are now.

Next to you is one of the smaller merchandise shops. The front of the shop also glass. All the local sports teams merch is stocked here and tonight the basketball teams logo is most prominent amongst the jerseys. Especially Rukawa’s jersey. That number of his, 11, seemingly mocking you. Where was he?

The shop door was propped open, you'd have to check the schedule and remind whoever closed last night to make sure to shut it. A sneaker. There behind the cashier counter on your right is a sneaker on the floor.

You leave the door to investigate. There is Rukawa on that blue shop carpet. His arms crossed over his chest and his breathing even. You kick the bottom of his shoe.

"Come on," he groans, "Get up, game time is soon,"

"You're lying,"

"I'm not lying you got to get your ass up and back downstairs,"

He doesn't say anything. You huff, knowing that the next part of this charade is trying to yank him off the floor. Rukawa is tall and mostly muscle, you tug on his arm but never get him very far. Today he is limp dead weight. You set your clipboard down to use both hands, in a misstep you tangle your shoes with his. Your hands loose grip on his forearm and you're tumbling backwards.

This is what seems to wake Rukawa up. His own hand grips onto your wrist pulling you in his direction just as he’s standing onto his feet. You bump into his chest and are momentarily in a whirlwind. Rukawa smells nice, his cologne faint but there, beneath the vague spicy citrus is the gentle sweat of sleep. His jersey isn’t pressed to flat clean lines but it is clean, it smells fresh. He’s looking at you not saying anything and you can feel his gaze but do not meet it.

“Your boss is going to kill me,”

“He’s not my boss,”

“He's your coach and that’s close enough, come on we have to get you down there,”

Rukawa follows you out of the store and into the massive stadium halls. He keeps pace with you, employees eye him but don’t ask for pictures or autographs. Around the bend is the employee only elevator and your shoulder brushes against him on the ride down to the basement floors.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,”

You say with a nonchalant tone, your eyes feasting upon your clipboard trying to find when the medic team is supposed to arrive tonight.

“I didn't mean for you to trip,”

This time he can't look at you while you look at him. You don’t know what to say, your mind trying to find some other instance where you’ve heard him apologize but can't. It's the thing that twitter accounts, sports journalists and other players say about Rukawa. That his head is too high, that he can't admit when he's over stepped but instead will say what he plans on doing next. The elevator dings open and you tell him that it's alright.

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Your office is tucked away in the basement. It's barely big enough for the desk, couch and shelf of binders that hold it together. Rukawa is there on the couch, his back to you as you type away on your computer. Players were required to arrive at the stadium at least forty five minutes before the games. Most came earlier than that. Rukawa's teammates were lounging in the locker room with take out, in the seats below the announcers box playing Xbox on the jumbotron and listening to music on the court.

Rukawa was napping. You wondered if he had some sort of sleep disorder. Since finding him in the shop several weeks ago Rukawa had stopped napping in various places around the stadium and taken up your offer to sleep in the office. You turn to look at him now and find that he is already looking at you.

“You're awake,”

And he nods, sitting up.

“You ready for the game,”

He scoots the couch closer to the desk.

“I’ll take that as a yes,”

“We’re weak on defensive because Miller is out. Their good scorers, and so are we but our weak point is shining,”

“You can still win,”

Rukawa is close to the desk so that he can rest his head in his arms. His breath itches your skin as your attention battles to focus on the computer screen in front of you and not him.

“And you have to move the couch back when you leave for warm ups,”

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

The team was on a losing streak. You did not bring it up to Rukawa. He sulked in your office before games, twisting in his sleep. He had been spending even more time in the gym. The training center was only two blocks away from the stadium. He parked his car in the same lot as yours, you saw him in there sometimes before you had to clock in, the training center not open yet. Most often he was napping, but sometimes you caught him watching game highlights. You always made sure to bump your fist on his window as you passed by.

Today, in the cold night air, he was there again. The trunk of his car slamming shut as he tossed his duffle bag inside. His eyes widened when he saw you, having caught him off guard. Another thing that you had not been able to do before. You see the bags under his eyes, the red creeping around his pupils.

“Rukawa, what are you still doing here, its really late,”

He shrugs, “I could ask you the same thing,” you were carrying a box full of posters. The new ones for the holders had come in, you liked to keep the cool ones of bands you liked. Rukawa held the box for you as you unlocked the car. Your breath came out in white clouds, the air slithering around you, Rukawa put his hands in his pockets.

“Hungry?”

He asks. The restaurant of Rukawa's choosing was at first surprising. Empanadas served over a counter. Traditional ones, and ones with more flashy fillings like Vegan Caprse and Spicy Bbq Chicken. The place is small with few tables, it's on the mall strip downtown and has doors on either side. People filter in and out easily, their empanadas wrapped in wax paper, steaming hot as people head back outside. Most seem drunk, rosy, and loud as they wait for their food.

You order first and snag the window seats, gliding onto the high stools. It's Friday so even though it's late the street is still buzzing. When Rukawa slides into the seat next to you, he hands you a cellophane wrapped pastry.

“For letting me use the office,”

“Oh you didn't have to do that,”

“I did. I have to do something for you,”

He's so matter of fact about it that it makes you want to roll your eyes. He's serious and dead set on small things like this, it makes you grin. You watch the people on the street, your reflection mixing with the lights, the people behind you in the small restaurant just blurry shapes in the window. The food is good and warm, the bread flaky and filling.

“Are you okay?” He doesn't answer but instead just looks at you. If he was going to be stubborn about it you supposed you could be a little mean, “I know you don’t like losing and…” You trail off hiding a smile behind your empanada. He twists around in his stool, propping his elbows up on the counter. You don’t stop looking at him and eventually he sighs and swivels the stool to face you.

“Fine. I don’t like it. And I can't do anything about it,”

“And have you done other things?”

“Like what?”

“What you've never taken, like a spa day or something?”

“I’m not going to a spa,”

“I’m not saying go to a spa I just mean when you aren’t playing basketball what do you do?”

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“When I first moved here this is where I would come,”

It's the next day and you had spent more time than you'd like to admit thinking about what to wear. Only to find that Rukawa was bringing you to a bridge looking down at the freeway. It was the massive freeway too, the one with ten lanes and the toll. The bridge had nothing but chainlink, that enclosed the concrete path, and a single iron railing keeping people from throwing rocks and themselves down at the cars. It connected a neighborhood of houses to a strip mall.

“And why would you come here? There's like nothing here,”

He shrugged, “This path connects to the river, the one down by the stadium. I used to run it every morning and sometimes I’d stop here at the bridge.”

There's stairs you have to descend, they seem clunky and odd next to the freeway. Drivers slow down as they approach and merge from the ramp onto the lanes. The city is still in view and you find your eyes wandering to the skyscrapers and glistening windows. Rukawa nudges your shoulder with your own.

“This is the part I like,”

A car gets on the exit ramp.

“What about it?”

“Look at the drivers,”

The next car comes, a blue honda, and the girl driving looks over her shoulder to see if she can merge. Almost everyone does this, the peek over the shoulder. Of course everyone does this, but it is charming to see that Rukawa has picked a spot just to watch people do this mundane task. You try to think of other things like this that everyone must do but your mind comes up blank, too busy watching the cars pass by.

There are easy things to think of, like breathing, drinking water, sleeping, that all people somehow complete. But smaller things, like having to check over your shoulder, escape you. But you know still that other people exist in the same way you do.

“I get why you come here,”

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“That just isn't going to work sir,”

The grody man in front of you was trying to convince you that his musicians stage set needed another rig for lights.

“There has to be some way you can do this for us, we’ll downsize if we have too,”

“You're going to downsize over some lights?”

All the pleasantries between you two had been used up. The past ten minutes had been very tense, the forty five minute meeting was entering two hour meeting territory and you were jittering with nerves. Not because you couldn't handle this man but because there was a game tonight and you still hadn't made your first round of check-ins with your team.

“Hell yeah we’ll downsize over this. This is money that you’ll be losing,”

“It's not possible, we simply don't have the room for it,”

“Then make room!”

The door to your office swings open, Rukawa is there, duffle bag slung over his shoulder and frozen as he takes in the atmosphere.

“Oh, I didn't know you had a meeting today,”

He’s about to turn away but you usher him in.

“No, no, its alright we were just finishing up,”

“No we aren't!”

Rukawa’s eyes dart between you and this man, he tosses his duffle bag onto the couch, stepping aside to let the man pass. But the man is still in the chair across from your desk, his face red and his palms up like can catch him an explanation for this interruption.

“I’m sorry but we are done. I've explained several times that we don't have room for another rig, and even if we did I couldn't let you use that space because the amount of lights you're suggesting is a fire hazard,”

“Other places have given us the space so why can't you?”

“Because we don't have it!”

You are practically yelling and the man's mouth is open in shock, his hand on his chest like he has the right to be appalled.

“You have to leave,”

Rukawa says. You don't take your eyes off the man in front of you.

“You don't have any say in this matter!”

“They told you to leave, leave,”

Finally, after a long, long beat of silence the man gets up and leaves. He slams your office door hard. Your fists balled up at your sides, you jump at the door. Opening it only to slam it shut even harder than he had. You stand in the middle of your office unsure of what to do now. Your whole body burning hot, your eyes brimming with tears, and your hands still clenched tight.

“Come on, you have to get out of this office,”

You run your fingers over the lines in your forehead, the ones that appear before you're going to cry.

“No, no, I have to check in with security and-”

“Do you think it's a good idea to do that when you're not calm and ready?” “But I have to,”

“Just ten minutes,”

You follow Rukawa to the elevator and find yourself retracing steps to the merchandise store you had last found him in. To your surprise Rukawa walks past that and to the doors that lead to the patio, and he opens them. He somehow has a key and though it's chilly out you still stand on the rooftop. It's afternoon, the sky a strong blue, clouds fluffy.

“Thanks,”

You say as Rukawa tosses you his warm up jacket.

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“Can’t you go talk to him,”

“Isn't that your job,”

Rukawa's coach, a balding middle aged man who wears too many rings, sighs, and shakes his head.

“Your better at it, he likes you better,”

“Which is it, am I better or does he like me better,”

“You know it's both,”

You hum and continue typing on your laptop.

“I’ll go with you if you're scared,”

“I’m not scared!”

“Then why aren't you going?”

“Beucae Rukawa is a professional athlete and I trust he knows what he's doing,”

“And I’m his coach and I’m saying he's doing too much, get him out of the gym, hes pissing everyone off,”

“Why do I have to do it? It's not my responsibility,”

“I already told you, he likes you best”

This is the conversation you had with him in your office that led to you braving the night and walking to the training center. You show your stadium badge to the secretary behind the desk and she does not let you in. So you call coach and he doesn't answer, which leads to you calling Rukawa.

“Can you come down to the front desk,”

He's breathless as he speaks, “The front desk where?”

“Here, like where you are, the training center,”

Suddenly you are scared and nervous and don't know exactly what you’ll say to Rukawa. When he gets down to the lobby he bursts through the doors, head whipping back and forth to find you.

“Did something happen?”

“What? No? Did coach not tell you I was coming?”

Rukawa's shoulders drop, and he shakes his head no.

“He wants you out of the gym,” He runs a hand through his hair, “he says you're stressing everyone out,”

Rukawa hunches over on his knees, he huffs.

“He couldn't tell me that?”

“He says he did and you didn't listen.”

He flops back onto the couch that's in the lobby. You stand there holding the strap of your work bag. You aren't sure what's supposed to happen next, are you supposed to sit down with him? Is he actually going to leave? He wraps the healthy leaf of the house plant that's next to the couch around his fingers. It shines underneath the lights, green, vibrant, of life.

“Have you ever been inside?”

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Since Rukawa had given you a tour of the training center he was more prone to dropping by your office on days that he did not have games. He had also begun inviting you to practices. You had only been able to make it to two but they were interesting to watch. You didn't sit in the bleachers but rather in this hallway with windows that looked down onto the court. There were hardly any people there, and they appeared to be other employees.

You were not in your office though when Rukawa had popped in. He saw the drink on your desk and the light of the computer screen. He went wandering the basement offices in an attempt to find you. He grabbed his lunch too, he had come from a practice and was starving. He knew the building pretty well from his adventures in napping. He checked the water fountain, the break room but found you in the office supply closet. Which is where the big xerox machine was.

“Hey,”

You said to him as he entered the small room.

“You weren't in your office,”

“Well, yeah I had to make copies of these,”

Rukawa hoisted himself up on the cabinet next to the printer. He clipped the stacks of paper you were making with paper clips and set them aside for you as he munched on his food.

“Is that a whole bag of tomatoes?”

You asked, lifting up the scanner lid. Rukawa had brought a ziploc bag full of tomatoes to eat. He nodded.

“Do you want one?”

None of the tomatoes were of the same size or color, but most of them were small. He handed you one of the bite size ones, and you don't know what compelled you to do this, but you put it on the scanner with paper. You pressed the start button and bright light illuminated the room. With the lid open you could see the bar of light as it whirred left and right.

Rukawa took the paper off the glass and dumped the rest of the tomatoes on. You scanned dozens of different piles of the tomates. Flipping them over and rearranging them on the glass. All the images were being sent to your computer but also being printed out. Rukawa assisted. Moving the red bulbs this way and that.

“When we’re done can we go to the roof?”

“Sure,”

You say to him. Many weeks later you will visit Rukawa's apartment and find the printed tomatoes framed in the hallway of his house.

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

A/N; @z_adeh on tiktok has this video of them scanning tomatoes and it zapped my brain

#kaede rukawa #Kaede Rukawa x reader #slam dunk #slam dunk x reader #gender neutral reader

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copias-sewer-rat · 1 year ago

Text

THE BLOOD DROPPING FROM THE DARK ROSE IS ALWAYS THE SWEETEST (Cardinal Copia x f/reader)

Flower Shop AU! for Ghost (the band). Copia is still a Cardinal. Just cuteness and a bit of setting for this chapter. Around 2.8K words. I used a name for the female character instead of y/n because I am not the biggest fan of it, hope you don’t mind. ⸸tags: some mockery of Catholicism, mentions of death (but very brief). Do not mind the titles of the chapters, they are songs that I want Ghost to cover at some point ;) ⸸my masterlist⸸ ⸸Read on Ao3⸸ Enjoy!

I - Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps)

The Monday morning sun hit your eyes. Still drowsy from sleep you checked your phone. The alarm was about to go off. Decided to stay under the covers until the last second, you closed your eyes and thought about your plans for the week. There were some big orders for this week, which you were glad for. Being a florist was not always the most rewarding job monetarily, but the fact that you were working on your dream job was more than enough to make up for it.

Wanting to have some resemblance of control over your week, you made a mental list. Twenty bouquets, some for weddings, others just normal displays of random affection between lovers. Seven funeral wreaths, which sometimes broke your heart to make. You remember a very painful wreath that you had to make about a baby who had died because of some sort of medical negligence, you remember how you could not stop crying for the entirety of that night. You also had a couple of wedding preparations that were due in a couple of weeks, but you needed to visit your usual provider just to check some details.

Remembering you had to visit your provider, your mind wandered to that pretty bizarre event you had to prepare an arrangement for on Friday. You had been visited by a couple of nuns a week ago, they seemed very friendly and cheerful, and although your history with Catholicism was not the best, they were very nice to you. They both also looked gorgeous, wearing some makeup and a tight attire that you had never seen wear to a nun, maybe they were from a branch of the Catholic church that was more permissive on that stuff regarding appearance. However, you could not know, you had been out of it for a few years.

The taller of the two nuns said that your shop had been in the radar of their congregation for some time. They had been waiting to perform some sort of ritual in town to ask for your services and now the time had come. You asked if they were from out of town and that is why it had taken some time to book you. The other sister, a bit older, but still breathtaking, said that they were from town. They just usually toured all over the world giving ceremonies. Now it was the turn of their hometown. You had been living in this quiet little town for a year and a half so you honestly did not know much about specific groups or the community in general, you really did not care about any of it. You were assigned with preparing a ceiling and floor arrangement, wild and unpredictable. The sisters told you that the venue was a bit big and that they were told by their superiors that they preferred something dark, but that it could still be seen in dim light. You had a herculean task before you. Nonetheless, you had always enjoyed a good challenge. While asking for your budget for the project you were answered with a “whatever you may need”. Your mouth was agape at the answer, no need to push the topic further.

Before continuing your train of thought, the phone alarm went off. You jumped out of bed, actually very excited to start your Monday.

You showered, dressed in a smart but comfortable outfit and prepared your breakfast and coffee to have in your truck. Before even thinking of how the arrangemet would be, you actually needed to see the venue first. The task had been avoided long enough. You picked a black card from your glove compartment which was given to you by the tall sister. It had the name and address of the venue engraved in bright white, the contrast feeling very dramatic and theatrical. Setting your google maps to the location, you put your favorite playlist and drove off towards your destination. After a fifteen minute drive and moments before finishing your rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody, you arrived to the venue. You found yourself before a concert venue when you were hoping for a church or an abbey. Maybe the congregation did not want to litter their precious church so they booked an easier place to clean afterwards. The turned off neon sign read ‘The Rat Trap’. Quite a fitting name for a concert venue, no doubt. The name was the same as the card, so you must have been at the correct spot.

Exiting your truck a couple of figures came into view in front of the establishment. They wore metal masks and black outfits. For a second you thought that you had the address wrong, these people did not seem very church-like. You shrugged it off and decided to ask anyway.

“Good morning. I was looking for a venue in which I am supposed to set some flower arrangements? Is this the correct address?” You spoke, your voice clear and pace slow, trying not to trip over your own words, not wanting to embarrass yourself so early in the morning. The silence was heavy between you three. Maybe that was only your imagination, because they took a step back and opened the metal door behind them. You thanked them with a smile and entered the building. The venue was enormous, but it was weird seeing a concert venue empty and with the lights on.

You only took two steps in, looking at how busy the place was with more people wearing those silver masks, when suddenly an older woman approached you.

“Good morning, dear. Can I know what business brings you here?” She questioned you, with a bit of poison in her tone. You got the feeling that you had interrupted something.

“Yes, good morning to you too.” You said, trying to sound as professional as possible. “My name is Claire, I am from Dewdrop, the flower store. My services were booked by a couple of nuns a week ago to make an arrangement at this venue for this Friday.” You said, short and to the point.

“Ah, yes, that…” The woman said, and you realized that the flowers were definitely not her idea. “Well, I guess there is no turning back now that you showed up. My name is Sister Imperator, you can come to me with any questions.” You were about to interrupt her with one, but she continued speaking. “Nonetheless, all this idea of the flower arrangement is from the Cardinal, so you better speak to him directly about it.” She finished talking and started walking, hoping for you to follow, so you did, not without asking the question that had been bugging you since the very beginning.

“Sorry, I have a question… What kind of church is this?”

Sister Imperator gave you a quick glance back and a smirk: “Just your typical church.”

You remembered what you had seen until now, the nuns, the people at the entrance and from inside the venue with those weird looking masks as you said to yourself: “Typical church, my ass.” The weird knot in your stomach was not going to prevent you from doing your job, you were more professional than that. You were even curious about those people, hoping to learn about what they stood for and to what dude from above they prayed to. Your step quickened to follow her closer.

You two said nothing to each other until the sister stopped abruptly before a door, it looked like a dressing room. You were a bit scared about the whole backstage thing, you had been to concerts, but you had never been so lucky as to go there. Sister Imperator knocked with a very curious rhythm, to which you heard a male voice respond with: “Come on in!”

The sister opened the door, but she signed for you to hold. You did as you were told and she entered the room leaving you outside of it on your own. You were nervous, she said that you had to talk to the Cardinal. From your knowledge from when you were a child, being a Cardinal is a pretty good position in the church. Thinking about it, you felt yourself getting smaller and smaller, reliving memories from your childhood that you had not thought about in a very long time. You were considering saying ‘fuck off’ to your professionalism and making a swift escape. There had to be a back door that you could slip through somewhere without no one noticing. As soon as you looked down the hall before you, searching for such a door, the one behind you opened and you knew there was no turning back. You just hoped for your face not to give away your emotions.

Sister Imperator told you to enter the room, and as you did you were struck with the sight of a man wearing a red cassock and some black eye and lip makeup, which made him look ready for Halloween. You could not stop staring at him, he was like nothing you had seen before, and when he rose from his seat to greet you, you caught yourself being too weird by looking so much and tried to smile warmly. You tried to shake hands with the Cardinal, but he was quicker, grabbing the hand you were extending with his gloved one and kissing the back of it, leaving a bit of lipstick there. Your face got a pink tint to it and your instinct told you to run away. Nonetheless, you decided to push your instinct down at least for now, to see the outcome of this reunion. You could always refuse the job, you just wanted the details of it first. You had not even noticed, but Sister Imperator had left the room and you were now alone with the Cardinal.

After kissing your hand, the man before you introduced himself as Cardinal Copia, a hint of what you presumed to be Italian in his pronunciation. He said nothing else, waiting for you to introduce yourself, but he forgot to let go of your hand.

“Claire Brown, nice to meet you Cardinal Copia” you tried to make the hold less awkward by gently shaking his hand. Then he seemed to realize his hand was still on yours.

“Miss Brown, it is a pleasure to meet you at last.” Cardinal Copia said, with sincerity, following your shake.

“Just call me Claire, please. I don’t like to be addressed by my surname, it makes me feel like I am still in school.” You surprised yourself with your honesty, the Cardinal just laughed at your justification and at this point you were both free of each others’ grasp.

“That is completely fair, Claire.” He said your name, rolling the ‘r’, just as Italians do, and you felt your cheeks tint even more, he did not seem to take notice, and even if he did, he did not mention it. Cardinal Copia gestured to the couch in front of the one he was sitting a few seconds ago and spoke with a smile: “Per favore (please), take a seat. Let us discuss flowers.” And so you did, not breaking eye contact with the Cardinal and giving him a warm smile, he did the same.

“I have some idea of what you want, but I would like some more details if possible.” You said, taking out a green notepad that you always carried with you and a pencil with a rubber-shaped pigeon on top, a bit worn off because it was an eraser and you need to use it sometimes, even if it pained you so much. The Cardinal took notice of your eraser and chuckled a bit.

“Fan of pigeons, sì?” He asked, nodding to your pencil.

“Yes, I think that they are wonderful creatures and very loyal. I love all birds, I have a soft spot for the underdogs in general.” You did not know why at the moment, but the Cardinal’s cheeks flushed a bit at your comment. “About the flowers then… I was told by the two nuns who visited me the other day that you were looking for a ceiling and floor arrangement, is that correct?” You asked.

“Yes, that is correct. It is a special occasion and I wanted something to commemorate it.” The Cardinal explained to you, but you still had many questions about the whole ordeal.

“And what is the occasion? It will be better for me to know which flowers will be the best and their collocation.” You pushed, trying to get more information.

“A concert, back in the town that saw us grow to what we are today.” To his answer, you blinked slowly. You were thinking of some kind of mass, not a full on concert.

“I am sorry? I thought you were a congregation or a church of some sort, not a music group.” You looked puzzled, but Cardinal Copia seemed to enjoy your confusion.

“We are actually both. A church and a music group. We are pretty well known in fact.” You could not believe his words, this was some kind of mockery and the Cardinal was just teasing you.

“Oh, is that so? What kind of music do you play?” You played along, having nothing to lose.

“Mostly heavy metal, but we also make covers of other songs and we also have some ballads.” The Cardinal replied, looking very closely to your reaction and making a dramatic gesture with his hand.

“That is pretty daring for the Catholic church…” You regretted your words the instant they came out of your mouth.

To that, the Cardinal smirked. “Who said we were Catholic? We are Satanists, Claire. We serve the one below, not that asshole above.” You were shocked, that actually explained so much. In that moment you noticed the Cardinal’s mismatched gaze, one eye green and the other white. The latter was actually shining a bit and you found yourself entranced by it. “We basically use the group to spread the word of our Lord and to take over the world.” You did not know what to say to that, but deep inside you were glad that they were not Catholic.

“Well, as for this show, I hope I can help you spread your word a bit with my flowers.” You said, sincerely. You had never met a Satanist, but Cardinal Copia seemed like a good person so you wanted to help, and his goals seemed a bit impossible, so you did not mind helping.

“I-I appreciate that, Claire, thank you for your em… kind words.” He stuttered slightly and you felt his confidence slip a bit because of that. You were sure that he had been trying really hard to present himself as a confident person. You felt yourself relating with the man, being a bit of a stutter yourself, so you just smiled and continued asking and taking notes.

The rest of the meeting went pretty well. Cardinal Copia told you that he wanted mostly red, black and white flowers. He also wanted the arrangements to look like an overgrown garden, so it needed plenty of different types of leaves and foliage. He later took you to the stage and pointed to the places where he wanted the decorations to be. It was a pretty big stage and you were thinking of how much money this was going to cost. You raised your concerns to the Cardinal, leaving you with the same answer the sisters had given you a week prior: “Whatever you may need.”

You tried to push your luck a bit. “In that case, I will need your phone number or something of the sort. Just to message you in case of any question or problem that might arise.” The Cardinal raised his eyebrows a bit and his white eye glistened a bit more than it did before. He fidgeted with his pocket, taking out an old smartphone, which you found adorable. He handed it to you and you saved your contact as Claire with a rose emoji and then called yourself to save his contact in your phone as well. He bowed a bit when you gave his phone back to him and you smiled a bit because of it.

After having a clear idea of what you needed to do, the Cardinal escorted you to your car. He was a gentleman and it seemed to be something natural to his person, it was very refreshing to see. Once you were inside your car you observed the Cardinal getting back into the building. As the door was opened for him you remembered the most important question of all, so you rolled your window down.

“Cardinal! What is the name of your band?!” You shouted, a teething smile escaping your lips.

Cardinal Copia got scared by your sudden shout and turned towards you a bit violently. However, when he saw your genuine smile, he could not help but laugh and smile back. “Ghost!” He said, and then you knew the name of the band that was going to become the soundtrack for your trip.

____

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That is it for the first chapter. I will probably edit some grammar and stuff later. Please let me know what you think and give me some feedback on how make the fic better (I am a bit rusty). Lots of love, SR🐀

#cardinal copia #cardinal copia x reader #the band ghost #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iv x reader #papa emeritus iv x female reader #ghost band #ghost bc #papa emeritus 4 #cardi c #papa iv #copia #copia my beloved #florist au

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