#my brain feels like a soggy cake :(
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celestialprincesse · 9 months ago
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𝐒𝐚𝐲 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧 𝐆𝐨 - 𝐓𝐰𝐨
Pt2 to this Nik x Hyperfem!reader because I couldn't leave it alone and it's been gnawing at the back of my brain all day
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You don't hear the first knock at the door. It's no surprise with the way you're wrapped up in the blissful comfort of your own little world. Being able to tune out to the soft sound of your playlist, the feeling of gently applying your favourite lotions and creams, the moisturiser you'd spent far too much on that leaves you smelling like coconuts and caramel. The second knock snaps you from the pretty pink haze you've drifted into, sending you bounding down the stairs, not even bothering to check the peephole as you fling open the front door.
It's him. He has your plate in his hand, the sharlotka plate, and not only is it clean, but it bears a slightly odd, misshapen cake. You look up at him with hopeful confusion. "I brought you back the plate." He states, as though you're blind, or just stupid. "I can see that." Your attempt at a dismissive, uninterested tone, falls entirely flat when you look up at him like an eager puppy. "I also made cake." Said cake looks distinctly like an attempt at a Victoria Sponge, although you're not quite sure.
Under his scrutinising look, you can't help but rock on your feet in your impractical little shoes. He barely manages to refrain from scoffing at the sight of them. "Would you like to come in?" Nikto's eyes hone on the way you open the door just slightly wider in a tentative invitation.
Barbie would recoil at how girly your house is. It's pink and frilly, gauzy with satiny ribbons and bows on everything. He feels so incredibly wrong here, like he'll stain your fluffy white carpets with blood, darken the soft lamplight with the shadows that cling relentlessly to his back. "Would you like some tea?" You mumble, indicating a nervous hand to your pink smeg kettle as though to prove the authenticity of your offer. "Do you have Russian Earl Grey?" "Uh -" You mutter as you root through your cupboards, filled with all sorts of fruity infusions. "I only have regular."
The two of you sit quietly around your dining table and whilst you sit forking pieces of crumbly, somehow simultaneously soggy, Victoria sponge into your mouth, Nikto sits there trying to find a way to drink his tea without showing you his face. "I am sorry." He murmurs softly, having stewed for the last week about how foolish he'd been in treating you so dismissively. It hasn't helped that he's fucked his hand every night for the past seven days at the image of you and your silly little doll clothes in his head. "If you would still like to, I would like to take you for a meal."
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Temporarily fixing their situation!! like using pink glitter glue on the cracked hull of a ship!! 💕
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kcrossvine-art · 2 years ago
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Good morn/noon/evening/after-you-woke-up! Now, I want you to imagine we are in a beige and light oak dressed kitchen, theres a plastic bowl artfully place on the island you bump your toes and hips on, and in that plastic bowl is plastic fruit, and on that plastic fruit is a decades worth of dead skin dust built up. It smells like vanilla perfume from the dollar store. On the 32-inch TV screen PBS is playing episodes of the coming of age drama 'Arthur'. We're cooking 'Stones Inna Swamp' from the Redwall Cookbook- And now a word from us kids…
(You can find the original recipe at the bottom if you’d like to follow along)-
MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS
SO, “what goes in to a Stones Inna Swamp?” YOU MIGHT ASKWELL for ya soup base-
White beans
Kidney beans
Vegetable oil
Onion
Celery stalks
Garlic
Sliced mushrooms
Green bell peppers
Vegetable stock
Chopped tomatoes
Parsley
Paprika
Salt and pepper
Canned beans might work well if you dont want to soak overnight, just thoroughly rinse and dry them first. And for ya dumplin's-
Rolled oats
Breadcrumbs (preferably whole wheat)
Parsley
Margarine
Cheddar Cheese
Do be careful making these, the dish caked to the pan like ive never seen anything before.
AND, “what does Stones Inna Swamp taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASK
Its a, it feels like adult babyfood, almost?
The 'dumplings'- they taste like meatballs??
This recipe would probably taste better with Regular Meatballs but these are mice so its understandable
Theres less liquid at the end than the 'swamp' name would imply
Texture similar to a mash
Most flavor comes from the aromatic ingredients
Could deal with a bit more spice
The vegetables could also go for a nice sear or roast beforehand
Pairs well with a gelatin desert and sparkly water
The dish your white parent makes when they do something 'experimental'
. The dumplings dont have a measurement for the salt, I did what felt right and I'd say it came out to maybe ¼ cup salt? . Water measurement for dumplings is way way too little, do the tablespoons and then also half cup. . Where margarine called for, used butter
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It gives off the air of when your children complain about taco tuesdays, but they cant cook for themselves and your partner refuses to learn, so you pick something out from pinterest that says "Healthy Veggie Sunday Dinner Done in 10 Minutes!". Its not bad in the traditional sense, its bad in the sense that it brings not much good. This may partially be a neurodivergent thing but the amount of soft textures just fucks with my brain.
I feel like I'm eating joker mush. The cheese is a nice touch though!
From start time to serving time, it took about 2 hours, but that could be cut down with experience. I would highly recommend either cooking the parsley dumplings separately and then adding per serving, or serving and eating immediately, because they Will get soggy and they Will fall apart over time.
 The flavor itself is very nice and savory, the more salt  you add the more itd taste like meat I think! As usual, please do feel free to add more spices than listed. I could see smoked paprika, cumin, and sautéd spinach going enhancing this a fair bit. I think if I were to make this in the future i would fry the dumplings before adding them in with the soup, to give it more texture and 'body'.
I give this recipe a wham-bam-ghost-you-ma'am of 3/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) And now back to our show...
🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁
Bean Soup Ingredients:
1/2 cup dried white beans
1/2 cup dried kidney beans
4 teaspoons vegetable oil
1 1/2 cups (1 large) sliced onion
2 celery stalks, chopped
1 garlic clove, crushed
1 1/2 cups (4 ounces) sliced mushrooms
2 green bell peppers, seeded and chopped
1 cup vegetable stock (or 1 cup water and 1/2 cube vegetable bouillon)
1 can (14 ounces) chopped tomatoes
1 tablespoon chopped parsley
1 teaspoon paprika
Salt and pepper, to taste
Parsley Dumpling Ingredients:
1 cup rolled oats
1/2 cup breadcrumbs (preferably whole wheat)
2 teaspoons chopped parsley
1/4 cup margarine
1/2 cup grated Cheddar cheese
Soup Method:
To make the soup, soak the dried beans in water overnight.
Drain the soaked beans and transfer them to a large pot. Add water to cover and bring to a boil. Boil the beans for 15 minutes, then reduce the heat and simmer until the beans are completely cooked, 40 to 50 minutes more. Drain.
In a large, preferably nonstick frying pan over medium heat, warm the oil. Add the onion, celery and garlic and cook, stirring, for 5 minutes. Add the mushrooms and peppers and cook, stirring occasionally, for 3 more minutes.
Add the beans, stock, tomatoes, parsley and paprika. Season with salt and pepper.
Bring to a boil, cover partially, and simmer for 20 minutes, stirring occasionally.
Dumplings Method:
To make the dumplings, stir together the oats, breadcrumbs, parsley and salt in a bowl. Add the margarine and rub it into the dry ingredients with your fingers until evenly distributed. Stir in 2 to 3 tablespoons of cold water, until the mixture just forms a dough.
Form the dough into twelve 1 '/2-inch round dumplings. Add the dumplings to the bean mixture and reduce the heat to low. Simmer, covered, turning the dumplings after 10 minutes, until they are cooked through, another 20 to 25 minutes.
Sprinkle with the grated cheese and serve.
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iamnot-theboynextdoor · 1 year ago
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OFMD EP1 REACTION
i already know this is a dream sequence but opening on stede and izzy having a badass swordfight is dope
stede's fantasy is all about him looking and sounding super masc... babyboy that's not you...
HE FUCKING STABBED IZZY. HE KILLED HIM
and of course izzy's last words are "you absolute twaaaaaaaaaat" i'm fucking dying
AND THERE'S THE SLOMO BAYWATCH RUN GOD I LOVE IT
"knew you'd find me babe" and of course ed's got his beautiful beard back and he looks perfect and he loves stede's beard sfjgdskjgdshj stede
aaaaaaand f in the chat for stede's dream sequence, wee john is doing chemical warfare
"can't be worse than you moaning 'ed, oh, ed' all night long" f in the chat for black pete and the rest of the crew
AHAHAHA roach going "he's single" and shoving the swede at jackie. c'mon swede be a hobosexual for us we gotta sleep somewhere
"come closer. spanish jackie don't bite. i lied, i bite" and he giggles i am immediately on board congrats jackie on your 21st husband
love olu's fancy bartender waistcoat!
"i'll buy you a drink" this guy! the guy who's practically stede's twin! in the disco outfit that stede steals! is he the guy stede does a punch on? is he hitting on stede? oh my GOD where is this going
"richard banes. are you stede bonnet?" dear lord this guy could not have a posher accent. is he the guy who ends up with a fake nose. he's an undercover cop isn't he. how else does he know who stede is
awww fuck we're cutting to ed. shit's about to go down
(stede) "hope you're thinking of me as well" close-up on ed's TRUST NO-ONE tattoo. fuuuuuuuuck
and immediately the wedding ed's gonna crash is like some extremely classist/"we must breed more upper class, worthy humans" shit, so ed can do a little murder actually i immediately don't feel bad for them
"objection" ed can board a ship without anyone fucking noticing if it looks cool actually
THERE HE IS he's made everyone put on the emo paint. i keep pausing and rewatching this part. love izzy's sarcastic little smile
jim looks so fucking sexy
so does frenchie tbh
ed's just eating the cake. cake topper my beloved...
OH NO IVAN DIED. OFF-SCREEN. F IN THE CHAT. and frenchie only cares about the cake JUST KIDDING HE IS HARDCORE DISSOCIATING. poor fang tho...
stede taking down blackbeard's wanted poster... does he have a little shrine in the pig sty he's sleeping in. does he draw hearts on the posters
"he's just blowing off some steam" stede has decided the atrocities are cool and fun actually. atrocities are okay if the man doing them has big beautiful brown eyes too. what about it
"i also killed someone and stole their kiosk. sometimes action is better than vision" can we get sue on the crew? "that's what i've been telling him" "that's 'cause you're the smart one" sue confirms that olu is the only crewmember with a brain cell
'we can't turn up with any old ship, we need to look good" STEDE. FOR THE LOVE OF FUCKING GOD.
ed putting the little cake topper in his breast pocket next to his heart i'm going feral
"did everyone get cake?" "yeah they got cake"
ed is doing drugs and izzy has never looked more miserable and soggy. he looks like someone dunked him in an inkwell
OH HERE'S THE SCENE. THE SAD WET MEOW MEOW SCENE
shit's gotta be really bad if izzy needs to be rocked and cuddled while he cries... babyboy you should have just let ed hold the talent show...
i am not at all surprised that jackie's taking all of stede and co.'s savings. this is jackie's house. jackie does not have a tip jar. you're in the republic of pirates hide it better next time
BOO CAKES!
well you didn't even get jackie and the swede a wedding present. this is her wedding present. HIDE THE JAR BETTER-
"what if we took that back?" "i think my husbands would have a problem with that. have you met all twenty of 'em?" PAUSING TO LOOK AT THE HUSBANDS.
"that's a lot of husbands" black pete misses his husband, tails. he misses him a lot
love the one wearing no shirt and a tight waistcoat/corset thing with the axe. one's got cool glasses. two of them are either super twinky or lady-husbands, excellent either way (jackie and her lady-husbands, nandor and his guy-wives... beautiful...)
EDIT: THE TWO HUSBANDS ARE TRANS GUYS HELL YEAH HELL YEAH
"i know that guy we had breakfast together" "you will be having a lot of breakfasts-es together" "oh ok" sometimes a family is a pirate businesswoman and her 20 19 18 20 husbands and we stan
maybe the sexy axe husband cooked the breakfast. i am delighting in imagining them being all cute and domestic until jackie needs them to stand around and look intimidating and then they all scramble into position. their job is to cook breakfast and look sexy and scare the shit out of anyone jackie points them at
i like to imagine that as soon as one of jackie's husbands died she's like fuck i gotta get a new one to make up the numbers. my brand is 20 husbands i can't be seen with only 19. who's new in town that is remotely attractive. ooh, swedish blondie with a metal tooth, he'll look nice next to the one in glasses
anyway stede and co. are now homeless rip
why does roach have buttons on a rope leash sfhdskjghsgk is buttons so desperate to return to his true love (the sea) that they have to treat him like a toddler trying to run into traffic
"dear ed, i think i'm afraid to see you. i'm not afraid you're gonna kill me, i'm afraid your life is better without me!" I AM GOING TO LOSE IT. SOMEONE GET THIS POOR BOY SOME SELF-ESTEEM
i paused on the wanted poster and it said "wanted for theft brigandry larceny arson tax evasion" sgkjhsfgkjsfhgk the fucking IRS is going to find ed before stede does
"could be. could be, mate" stede your ed impression sucks shit
oh god richard's there. are you a cop or just a fan.
"the gentleman pirate saved my life! quite frankly, you're my hero!" with his fancy fucking coat oh god stede has a fan. stede has a copycat fan. AND STEDE'S NOW HAPPY OH MY GOD I AM HITTING HIM WITH A HAMMER (affectionate)
he fed stede a line about jackie's roman puzzle chest... i don't fucking trust this guy i'm convinced he's either a navy plant or a husband plant...
(if he is truly just a baby stede i'm putting him in a jar and shaking him (affectionate))
I FUCKING LOVE THE SWEDE
oh god back to ed's depression den
"not good enough. and that's another toe. take your boot off." okay ed, i know you're trying to get izzy or anybody to kill you in your sleep or something but i'm still. noooo don't commit atrocities you're soo sexy aha
"who am i to you" oh god. shit's gotta be really really fucking bad if izzy's doing emotional intimacy
"i have... love for you, edward" i'm going to explode
first of all izzy is delusional if he thinks he knows ed better than anyone else - we know and love this about him
second, con's fucking acting is going to kill me. he's looking at the floor, there are tears in his eyes, he's whispering and pauses as if saying the word love is going to kill him (and it's not just the emotional repression considering how volatile ed is)
and the way the line is written - it's not "i love you" or "i'm in love with you", it's not a thing izzy does or is, it's a thing he has. an object he's carrying around, separate to him, he's trying to distance himself from it.
and of course ed interrupts him with "oh come on" because he does not trust that anyone actually loves him and he doesn't want anyone to any more, he wants izzy to hate him and kill him!
"i'm worried about you, we all are. the atmosphere on this ship is completely poisoned. but if we could all just maybe... talk it through" SHIT'S GOT TO BE REALLY REALLY UNQUESTIONABLY HORRIFICALLY FUCKING BAD IF IZZY IS ADOPTING STEDE'S CATCHPHRASE
ed, ominously "as a crew" as blackbeard's leitmotif starts up... WORST CHOICE OF WORDS EVER IZZY I'M TERRIFIED
izzy: i fucked up i fucked up i fucked up i fucked up i fucked up
POOR FANG IS WHIMPERING ED DON'T SCARE HIM!!!!!
"i know who we should ask, ol' blackbeard!" (shoves gun under his own chin) jesus christ ed
"FUCKING END!" izzy has had ENOUGH
AND AS SOON AS HE SAYS STEDE'S NAME ED SHOOTS HIM
"frenchie, you are now first mate" STEPS OVER IZZY GROANING IN PAIN
i am very worried
HARD CUT TO THE SWEDE AND JACKIE LMAO
oh god stede's adopted ricky. this can only end terribly
aaaaaand f in the chat for ricky's nose
"i can't believe you guys robbed jackie! so bad!" swede.
jackie looks gorgeous though
SUE IS OF COURSE THE BADASS PIRATE QUEEN
and jackie loves her a sexy swedish double-crosser
thank you sue for adopting the gang of idiots
OH GOD JIM AND ARCHIE MOPPING UP IZZY'S BLOOD. THAT'S A LOT OF BLOOD
poor fang is still crying
awwww and jim's telling him pinocchio to calm him down! (but they suck at telling stories)
"do the voice"
and jim does the fucking voice
ed sounds like he's holding back tears as he describes sailing and robbing and never landing
"fuck you, stede bonnet" "good night, ed teach" HHHHHHH
stede come on man pick up a fucking oar you're not the captain any more
at least we got one romantic reunion! and it was buttons and the ocean <3
sdkfjhsdkjgsdk everyone being like "are we soup merchants now? sweet" and olu with his poor overworked brain cell like "hang on... there's no soup here"
ZHENG YI SAO FUCK YEAH BAY BEE
AFTER CREDITS SEQUENCE!!! storytime with jim extended edition!!!!!
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sarking · 2 years ago
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@serenabenson said ghosts Kathy and Serena talking in the garden and my brain clamped its teeth down hard on the idea of Kathy and Serena meeting because what would Serena think. Kathy, who was pregnant and married at seventeen? Like, basically one of Serena's nightmares for Olivia? But Kathy is, during the time Serena was alive, happy?
I don't have an answer, but I sure ended up with a very particular vision that takes a lot of setup to go nowhere!
It's July, probably. One weekend after the Fourth, maybe, or two. Not a holiday, because people go to the shore or make their own plans for those. But it's a picnic in the park for the entire precinct. Bring the family.
Olivia doesn't invite Serena, isn't even sure if she wants her to come, but knows she'd say no if she asked. She still makes sure Serena knows when it is and where.
(Sometimes, Olivia thinks she'd like Serena to meet Elliot, only that's not quite right. She wants it to be one-way, doesn't want the exposure of Elliot knowing Serena. She wants to show him off a little, like a doll in a case, or maybe a freak at a circus. Look, mother -- a good man.)
Serena comes, late. Long after Kathy has slathered the kids in a second coat of Banana Boat, but before the food is gone. It doesn't matter. Olivia has never seen her mother eat a hot dog; she would only eat from pretzel carts.
They sit at a picnic table on the edge of things, sneaky white wine in plastic cups, a soggy plate of fruit salad between them on the red and white plastic table cloth. Olivia doesn't say she's glad she came. Doesn't say anything different than she'd say at their weekly dinners; she doesn't want to scare her away.
Munch brings them cake. Vanilla, with berries on the icing like the stripes of the flag. It's an excuse to introduce himself, to be charming and sweet (a good man), to tell Serena how wonderful her daughter is. Not at her job, but as a person. To praise her intellect and wit. To declare the three of them -- Olivia and Serena and himself -- equals, and then to engage Serena on the topic of literature.
Olivia feels good about leaving them alone when Elliot calls her away. "Liv!" in his baseball cap, yards and yards away, with a small group of other men. Someone has bottle rockets, probably, or maybe they're trying to put together a race or a wiffle ball game. Nothing that would interest Olivia, but Elliot always wants to include her.
(He finds a second to nod at the table, at Serena in her movie star sunglasses. "Your mom?" And that's all there is; there isn't any more.)
Kathy startles Serena when she sits down at the table. It's the closest spot to where Dickie and another boy are sword fighting with sticks, and Munch is there. Kathy knows Munch, loves Munch.
"Serena Benson, the always lovely Kathy Stabler," Munch says, even though Kathy doesn't feel lovely. She feels happy, but exhausted and overheated. She feels like a mother of four at her husband's work picnic.
Serena doesn't say, "Oh, Elliot's wife," which is how introductions at these things usually go, so Kathy says, "You must be Olivia's mom."
Serena does say, "I hope you don't mind my noticing, but you're getting a bit pink, dear." She gestures to her own face to indicate where.
"Oh," Kathy says. "I guess I forgot to reapply when I did the kids."
Serena smiles, polite. (Olivia has mentioned Elliot is a father.) Raises a finger and digs in her bag, comes up with a little tube of sunscreen in a brand Kathy has seen in magazines but not on shelves in stores.
"Oh," Kathy says. "Thank you." She squirts some into her hand, but less than she should -- she has an idea of how much it costs, feels guilty for using it at all.
"We have to be careful, with complexions as fair as ours," Serena says. "Olivia, though, I could leave her in the sun for hours, and she would never burn."
Kathy glances at them, Olivia and her husband, yards away. They're alone now, laughing, so close the drinks they're holding bump when they move.
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44-docx · 8 months ago
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15/04/24
I had a rough past few days. Two days ago I had one of the worst panic attacks of my life. Thank god my partner was there to help me. They held me and when I saw the look on their face I wouldn’t let myself dissociate. It hurt almost , in the weirdest way, and was so hard but I was able to. And so I didn’t record my food that day or the day after, but I felt okay about the food I ate. Today I feel as though I ate more than I should have and am having shame I dislike the feeling of but I’m reconciling with having put it in my mouth to begin with so I’m sitting with this feeling lol.
Breakfast 8:00
I had all of this. I was kinda nauseous halfway through then it dissipated and I finished. I got hungry an hour after and had this snack. I was studying and needed a pick me up, hence the red bull. I usually try to avoid caffeine but I’ve been TIRED all day :).
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Lunch: 12:00
For lunch I had chicken and egg on rice. I added hot sauce and honey. I had that soup and picked out two dumplings and thre the rest out. Then I picked up this little bit my cafeteria was serving. I didn’t like the potato it had because ew it was soggy asf, so I just ate the smoked salmon instead. Didn’t really want it tbh but I ate it and regretted it in my mouth but I can’t spit it out in public like I would alone. Not gonna lie, spitting things out if I don’t like them is a new development that kinda keeps me true to eating only what I like and want. I don’t chew and spit, not something I have ever done! But having the ability to respect myself enough not to swallow something I hate is part of me trying to regulate what I eat. I got cereal for desert, again. I saved this muffin and picked at it for like 2 hrs as I tend to do while I work , it’s a bad habit because I feel like sugar helps me focus…. More on that at 3:30 lol. (Also I did not eat that banana)
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3:30 “snack”
So I had this snack which I feel like was rather large. I had a handful of cashews, maybe more, a few bites of yogurt and an orange with a coffee with oat milk. That caffeine kicked me into being able to work again because I was honestly dissociating and was able to get a hold of it again! I’m getting really good at that and am really proud of myself. I started work and got a reasonable amount done and then I noticed my blood sugar dipping again. I am noticing that when my blood sugar feels low I feel out of breath and get super bad brain fog and am not able to work! (Big surprise wow I know) but as somebody who would force myself through work after barely eating I’m noticing just how productive I am when I actually eat - especially when I have sugar. So I got a slushes and oh my did that kick me into high gear lol.
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Dinner: 8:00
I had this chicken burger and peeled off the extra bun parts because why do I need that much bread for such wimpy patties??? Like buy smaller buns if you’re gonna be that cheap? Anyways enough beef with my cafeteria. I had half the fries and a load of ranch and hot sauce with honey. It started to freak me out actually having the sauce about halfway through eating it, and then I was like okay let’s just see if we finished it. And then I did . And I’m trying to be neutral about that. I almost wanted more food but then I realized I didn’t want it I just wanted it because it was available and I would freak out if I ate more because I was already full and I should stop. Having unlimited food is really hard as someone who has binges, uncontrollable eating spells where I feel out of control regardless of how much I eat it feels compulsive because I’ve restricted for so long. Trying to recover with a cafeteria is hard lol. But… I stopped myself. I had cereal, I also got a little carrot cake but I realized I didn’t want it so I just ate the cereal. Actually eating the cereal did make me feel like I was pushing myself and made me consider P, but I did not. I’m fine and I’m full and that’s okay. It just feels like sooooo much food. Not being able to put anything back is also kinda ficked up to me because like , I will take something and have to throw it out, which I obviously don’t wanna do but I’ve grown comfortable doing as a part of my healing . Anyhow I’m looking at the carrot cake I smuggled out of there because I didn’t want it but wouldn’t throw out because I may want it later. I have an exam at 9 am so I expect I will be up late studying.
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Taking photos of my food has been super freeing. I’m really happy that I started doing this. Throughout the day I have these thought about trying to calculate my food that I’ve had for years. Now being able to SEE what I eat is putting me at ease in a way I can’t quite explain. I feel a sense of freedom from it and I’m not trying to use it in a toxic way either which is nice that I don’t have that compulsion. I’m trying to focus on the fact that this food will fuel my brain for my exam tomorrow morning and and I’m trying to be happy for myself because I did a good job at studying today and avoiding dissociation - and regardless of my marks I think I’ve done a good job here preparing and that puts my anxiety at ease.
I’m on SLYND now which is a birth control. I’ve been taking it for two days now. It may cause weight gain but most people say it doesn’t which is a blessing omg. Keeping this food diary will help me make sure I’m not being adversely affected by the medication to eat more. And that gives me comfort because my last birth control I gained FORTY POUNDS. Omg I can’t even think about it it was so bad . Like with such bad body image it SUCKED. Really made my eating disorder worse for sure. But here I am trying to recover and mitigate the risks in a healthy way by monitoring my appetite and intake💪
Anyways, back to studying.
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chapstick-child · 3 years ago
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im. so mad. i took the fucken pill i drank coffee why am i not focused why is my brain still not working fuck!
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elisela · 2 years ago
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you’re my only hope sterek, 1k, thanksgiving fluff
--
“Turkey hotline, this is Derek.”
“Derek!” Stiles says, looking frantically around the kitchen, phone shoved between his ear and shoulder. “I know that usually you’re supposed to thaw the turkey for days but last night I was nominated as the place to go for everyone who didn’t have a place to go and all the store had was a fifteen pound frozen solid turkey and I’ve left it out since I bought it but the damn thing is still frozen solid and I’m supposed to serve it in four hours. What the hell am I supposed to do?”
The wooden spoon he’d been looking for is balanced on the open refrigerator door. He snatches it up and spins to stir the gravy, the only thing he could think to make ahead of time that Lydia won’t kill him for nuking in the microwave right before dinner.
“You can cook it from frozen. It’ll take longer, about five hours, but serve some drinks and your friends will be fine waiting.”
Stiles looks at the compound butter he’d gotten—he can read recipes, thank you, he’s just in a panic—and frowns. “What am I supposed to do about, you know, seasoning?”
“Pull it after two hours and season it then. You’ll have to baste it, but you’ll be okay.”
“Great,” Stiles says, then curses when he realizes he’d laid his dish towel too close to the burner and it’s smoking. “Thanks!”
-----
“Turkey hotline, this is Derek.”
“This isn’t a turkey question, is that okay?”
The voice that comes through the line sounds almost amused. “We’re here to answer all of your Thanksgiving dinner related questions.”
Stiles taps the pie pan on the counter. He’s unsure if it’s necessary, but he’s seen people do it to regular cakes on YouTube, so why not? “Dangerous,” he says, “because I have a lot of questions. Like—why? How is this the thing you want to spend your time doing on your holiday? What are your qualifications, anyway? Because for all I know you could be making shit up, but I have to admit the turkey is no longer frozen solid under your possibly-sound advice. Which leads me to: can I bake a cheesecake at the same time as a turkey? The oven’s at 375 if that makes a difference.”
“If that—you shouldn’t be cooking your turkey at 375!”
Derek sounds affronted, and Stiles would find that cute—at least he finds his semi-outraged voice cute because for God’s sake, it’s a turkey—but he doesn’t have the time. “The cheesecake, Derek. Can I do the cheesecake at the same time?”
���Not unless you’re good with soggy turkey skin. The steam from the water bath will affect it too much.”
Stiles frowns. “Yeah, the … water bath,” he says, and hopes it doesn’t sound like he has no idea what he’s doing. “What if I don’t mind soggy turkey skin?”
“You mind soggy turkey skin,” Derek says firmly, and Stiles laughs.
----
“Turkey hotline, this is Derek.”
“Seriously, you’ve been at this for three hours,” Stiles says, because he had fully expected to get someone else on the line. Unless Derek is the sole employee—volunteer? He has no clue—he should have gotten someone else by now.
“Try eight,” Derek says. “Please tell me you turned the turkey down.”
“I’d feel bad lying to you,” Stiles says, grinning. “So it turns out I forgot the rolls, and I have a box of pancake mix but it says I need eggs, which I don’t have because I used them all in the cheesecake. Help me, Obi Wan, you’re my only hope.”
There’s a pause, and Stiles has a moment to hope he hasn’t broken Derek’s brain before he finally replied. “Oh, you’re thinking about making biscuits.”
“That’s what I said,” Stiles says, poking at the cheese sauce for his hopefully tolerable mac and cheese.
“You did not, but you don’t need eggs. Or pancake mix. Google a recipe for drop biscuits and so help me do not bake them at the same time as the turkey.”
“Aww, you know me so well, boo,” Stiles coos, and flips off the burner. “Why do you do this, anyway?”
“So people like you don’t give your friends and family food poisoning,” Derek says. “You’re safe, by the way, if you keep roasting the turkey at 375. It’ll be charred.”
“Drama queen,” Stiles mutters, and then puts his foot in his mouth by asking, “you’re not too busy cooking your own dinner?”
“My family’s across the country,” Derek says after just a moment. “My sister usually made dinner for us and her friends, but she just got married so she’s with his family.”
“Sucks, dude,” Stiles says, cursing when the doorbell rings. “Gotta go. Hopefully Scotty brought the alcohol or I’m gonna have a riot when they learn the food’s not ready. Thanks again.”
He hangs up, pauses, and calls right back.
“Turkey hotline, this is Derek.”
“Derek,” Stiles says, “you should come over here. We’ve got plenty of food. Some of it even edible, thanks to you.” He gives him his address before he loses his nerve, adds in a few key landmarks he’s near just in case, and hangs up before Derek can respond.
---
Lydia looks at him suspiciously when the bell rings, glancing around the room like she’s mentally counting the people in it and wondering who the hell else Stiles knows that’s not currently in the room, which, rude, but he’ll deal with that later.
Or not. He probably won’t bring it up at all, because she would have been right if he hadn’t been calling the turkey helpline all day, and he doesn’t want to get into it.
For now he sidesteps Scott, who had been helpfully on his way to the door, straightens his shirt, and flings it open.
Holy good Jesus.
He probably gapes—not his most attractive look, but he can’t be blamed when the man standing on his front porch is the literal definition of perfection. “Hi,” he manages to say, “Derek?”
It’s probably not Derek. It’s probably Jackson’s new boyfriend checking up on him, or a neighbor ready to yell at him for taking up so many parking spaces with his guest’s cars, or—
“I never caught your name,” the man says, and it’s Derek’s voice, it’s Derek, and Stiles is still standing like an idiot half-hanging out the door.
“Stiles,” he says, and waves a hand automatically to brush off the inevitable question. “I’m glad you came. Come in, come in.”
Derek’s shrugging out of his leather jacket, and if Stiles wasn’t already formulating ideas to make Derek fall in love with him, he certainly is the moment it comes off and reveals a soft looking maroon sweater underneath it. “Well, you said I was your only hope. Come on, Skywalker, show me your kitchen.”
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134340am · 2 years ago
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for the madeup fic game, idk why my brain immediately thought of the words "banana bread" but here i am with the title "banana bread" if you can think of anything 😂
hello my pretty rae! happy tuesday <3
for banana bread, i'm thinking of a light-hearted crack fic where bokuto is cursed at birth to drop any and all foods that he compliments after the first bite.
it started when he was a kid, just a little guy at the park chomping down on some ice cream on a hot summer's day. he's saved up enough to try a new flavour—today's treat is strawberry ice cream encased in a thin layer of mochi. "yum," he mutters to himself after the first bite: a small, tentative one, where he rolls the flavour about on his tongue afterwards. when he goes in for a second, bigger bite, he drops his ice cream.
fuck.
bokuto swears by his dad's toast. it somehow tastes better, though it's just toast? the outside is a stunning golden brown, the balance between the crunchy crust and the pillowy insides is perfect, and the little pad of butter his dad slides on top the hot toast is just the right amount—enough to coat the entire surface of his breakfast without getting it soggy and greasy.
"it's just toast, but it's awesome every single time, pa," he once said through a generous mouthful of said toast, before his fingers twitch and his breakfast goes barrelling towards the floor.
gravity 1, bokuto 0.
(screw this shit, he hates it here.)
he's mindful of his compliments to the chef now. pizza, beef rice bowls, cold soba in the summer and hot oden in the winter: whatever he's eating, bokuto's careful to express his appreciation for the food only after he's had at least half of it.
until he met you.
the humble bakery down the street serving the freshest pastries has been the fruit of your labour for the past five years. lemon pound cake, pain au chocolat, darling little vanilla cupcakes and giant chocolate chip cookies—your menu is sure to satisfy anyone with a sweet tooth. your best seller, however, is your banana bread: the caramelised exterior and fluffy interior, in addition to the overpowering smell that wafts through the street every morning, had people queueing up long before your bakery opens.
bokuto is no exception.
he's almost in tears when he tries your banana bread for the first time, teeth sinking into the crispy crust to find the soft sponge underneath and a satisfied hum already brewing in the back of his throat.
before he can help himself, he speaks, "this is the best banana bread i've ever had."
shitshitshit, he shouldn't have said that.
bokuto cringes, awaiting the familiar numbness to take over his fingers, awaiting the dreaded fall of the delicious banana bread from his hand...
...but it never comes.
when he opens his eyes, he's puzzled to find the golden-brown square still intact between his thumb and index finger. huh, that's weird.
"this banana bread is— it's, um. amazing. delicious. wonderfully tasty," he tries, eyes fixated on the dessert. he even takes another bite for good measure, nibbling at the corner where a bit of caramelised crust has formed. he starts rambling when nothing happens. "this banana bread is lovely. i'd eat it everyday, for breakfast and lunch and dinner. maybe even supper, but my trainer says i shouldn't eat too late or i'll mess up my circular rhythm. my circulator rhythm? what's the damn word— anyways, this is good. like, great good."
nothing happens. his little slice of banana bread, now down to a piece the size of his thumb, sits unharmed in his hands.
a grin breaks across his face, lighting up the room almost immediately. "holy shit!"
"holy shit is right, sir." you slide into the seat opposite his, armed with another slice of banana bread on a plate. your smile mirrors his, amusement decorating your pretty features, and bokuto feels his heart rate pick up even more—something he didn't know was possible.
"i'm glad you like my banana bread. it's our bestseller, and you probably know that, but nobody's really complimented it the way you have." you laugh good-naturedly, sliding the plate across the table. bokuto's eyes flick from your face to the bread and back, heart soaring.
"well, i hope you know i was telling the truth," he starts, almost shyly. "would you, um, like to share this piece?"
send me a made-up fic title and i'll tell you what i would write to go with it!
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jadelynlace · 3 years ago
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Ink Drinker / Modern Vikings AU [Ivar x F!Reader], Chapter 6
catch up here!
synopsis: Ivar was only meant to be a friend with benefits, but he caught feelings for his older brother’s best friend, and co-worker: you.
pairing: Ivar x F!Reader
***content warning [PLEASE READ]: this chapter has the after effect of the trauma call, and too many emotions. surgical mentions and medical terminology are in this chapter as well. anything in italics indicates a flash back.
author’s note: I’m so sorry.
 ~
“Floki, why can I be left alone?” Ivar asked.
“Because the last time you were left alone you ended up with fifty thousand milligrams of pain killers in your stomach. Now, come here—do you know this?” Floki replied with his fingers taping the photo copied image.
“I drew that.” Ivar said back.
“Yes, you did. Where do you want it?”
“What do you mean?” 
“You hate your body so much why don’t you cover it in something you like?” 
*
It is sixteen hours that Ivar is in surgery. His world is dark, nothing but, with pierces of noises that he can recall. But trying to decipher them only makes the surroundings dull, caked in black and muffled with a buzz of an unruly bee hive. There are pokes of pain, he remembers the green light, and he remembers the pot hole he swerved to miss. He doesn’t remember how fast he was driving and the second he was over the yellow line made no difference for the sudden beast of a truck to find him. 
Everything below Ivar’s powdered knee caps are reattached. Grueling hours on the table while he’s sewed back together like a monster. Enough time for Hvitserk to get clothes, to get you clothes, to pack a bag for his brother per your request. Even in the presence of clean laundry you can’t take your blues off yet—they’re holding you proper because you just saw Ivar that morning. You two made love in the low morning light, filled with ecstasy, his seed and then he made you eggs with extra hot sauce and hugged you tightly you were sure you stopped breathing. He told you to be safe, baby, like he did at the dawn of each shift and that he would call you when his last appointment was finished, and on his way back from shopping for supplies for the parlor and that you two would make lunch plans. In his speed, his haste to make sure he didn’t miss you before the two tone song of death would sing in the radios, he instead, became the reason it did.  
Your chief shows up when you tell him the nature of the emergency. Pulling additional personnel on for overtime and they take the rig out of service and from your hands. Words don’t spare any differences and although he offers you a hug, when you take it he slips you a piece of paper. 
“Remember the job you’re doing. And the change you’re making.” He whispers in your ear and you look at the folded sheet. It’s a photocopy of a poorly drawn fire truck with an even worse sketched stick figure, and you had scribbled it when you were five. Back when you met chief for the first time because now you hold the same badge number your father once did. 
“If I give you your Dad’s old badge number, are you going to act like a jack ass like him?”
“I can’t make any promises chief.”
“I have a partner in mind for you, you’ll like him. He’s a good kid. A good medic.”
“This good kid got a name?”
“Yeah, Hvitserk. I’ll introduce the two of you.”
This is the call that shapes you as a medic, as a provider, and changes how you see things. This is the call that sends a new person out into the street, whether Ivar lives or not. This is the call that forever holds terror in your heart because he was laying in the back of your ambulance, and that was the one spot you never wanted him to occupy. 
Aslaug walks through the doors and she’s already two tissues deep into a soggy mess. Hugging Hvitserk and hugging you and you wish you were meeting this woman for the first time under any other circumstance. Floki thanks you and you don’t quite know why, even though the words fall heavily and un-calming, he still thanks you. And when the surgeon returns before the four of you, you’re the only one that doesn’t stand. But he calls your name because you know him, he was lab staff that tested you for your certifications and he told you that you’ll make a damn good medic one day. 
“Remember what I said on the day of your exam?” He asks and you nod, puzzled and impatient looks on the other faces. “You are a damn good medic—you both are.” He adds, eyes jumping from yours to your partners. “And it shows on this call, of all of them.” Hvitserk’s shoulder nudges you and you only nudge him back, perhaps little too hard in your delirious state. “Essentially what we did, was replant the lower portion of each leg. Now, given the extent of his injuries and how his body handles such, I don’t have a clear cut answer for you on his overall mobility. He may need to have screws implanted, he may need prosthetics. He’s going to be in the ICU for the next 48 hours for constant monitoring. We’ll have him sedated so his body can focus on what’s at stake. He’ll need physical therapy for a long time, and he’ll likely be disabled for the rest of his life, given again, how his body handles this. It’ll be a long road. But, like I said—you two are damn good medics and that is the one reason his legs were able to be saved. I will let you know when he’s moved to the ICU.”
You look back at your partner and his face is as blank as yours; influx of emotions just ready to dive from the void but your minds are still churning, still processing all of what boomed from the doctor’s mouth. Ivar’s chance at returning to a normal life was resting in your hands and you two gave the best damn efforts and they worked. The countless hours of dissection, wondering if you’re cut out for this career, these responsibilities, hours of trauma and blood and vomit all fizzle away because you now know that you are. And it just took Ivar to prove it.
When your eyes open again there’s a sharp pierce in your temple, scrunching eyes together and slowly moving, your head rises from Floki’s shoulder and the lights in the ICU have dimmed in the late hour. Impressions stood between his nostrils, falling like petals over his cheekbones, bleeding through split brows and pink flowers through the depths of his neck. His chest sinking and fainting with time, there was a moment of deafening silence when you are looking at his body; seemingly so small under the contraptions. The depths of earth, and the worst hell was seeing him lay on this cot. He’s only sedated now, even though Ivar looked of death, he was still alive under the harvest of wires. The words of how “we’re doing all that we can” do not bring any more comfort, they just take Ivar like a wave rapidly back out to sea. And now you understand how your patients, and their families feel when you speak the same phrases to them. The clinical assessments do not stop a rigorous schedule, motoring for the possible failure. The room is kept warm, and every so often when you will yourself to peek in, you can see the sheen of sweat that’s over Ivar’s forehead, dancing across his chest under the stickers, the monitors. The capillary refill on his toes show promise, and when the nurse says that to her doctor, you find yourself attempting the same motions on your thumb nail. Pressing the pink away and making room for the white, and then in a quick release, the pink swarms back. The ultra sound machines reminds you of the new equipment in your rig as it assess arterial blood flow every hour.
IV bags drip, slow and agonize and the change of wrappings, dressings and cleaning of both the limbs and Ivar himself collect. You spend hours watching the fluid levels sink, his eyes flutter, his fingers in his hand dance and you grow cold because you just want to hold him. To lock him in a steel tower and to constantly remind him how strong he is, because you know the longest road will not come from learning to walk. It will come from Ivar trying to find that he is worthy to live on.
Blackness had retired across your cheeks, wrapping a veil of makeup that melted into battle scars and you could not move if your body depended on it. Aslaug sits next to you; she takes her time wiping the makeup off from under your eyes, the soiled mascara and she’s humming to you. She had been telling you how when Ivar was young, she would sing to him and it would calm him down. How she sang to him in the hospital after he tried to overdose, tubes pumping his stomach as she blamed herself for such wrong doing. How Hvitserk blamed himself because he gave no one a warning cry. And how she’s singing to Ivar now, even though he can’t hear it, because it comforts the three of you as a whole. 
When your eyes follow the nurse into the room, you can hear her say something to Ivar and you watch his head turn in confusion. Grogginess and a fog on his brain as she talks to him like it’s a normal conversation; wishing him a good morning, how the weather looks promising for a beautiful day and you wish you had that level of bed side manner. You never get the promising parts of the journey; you get the patients that are coding and in a rush to the life saving team in the hospital. You love the ones who tell you their entire live’s story in the back of the rig on the way to the emergency room, sharing details and calming your mind with how simple, and yet how different every walk of life is. The nurse says something about you, about Hvitserk and Aslaug and Floki, out and waiting and ready to see him when he’s fit. You wave through the glass and there’s the tease of a smirk on Ivar’s face, even in his slightly sedated state. A dastardly, bastard smirk and his hand lifts off the bed slightly, wiggling his fingers back to you. The tears start up again, pounding a sledge hammer through your skull after all of the unruly pressure and messes of crying as your body tries to go numb.
“Where’s my mom?” You hear Ivar say in a voice that muted slightly as the nurse stands in the door way to exit. “Can I see my mom?” And the nurse nods. Aslaug stands and kisses your hair line as she walks into the vicinity, Ivar watching her and you need to back up, you need to walk away from the room, this hall way and this battle. A faint wheeze goes through your chest and Floki catches it first before Hvitserk has a chance to lift his head and open his eyes.
“Let’s walk, dear,” Floki says and his voice is not authoritative but it still demands you to comply as he loops an arm around your shoulder. “Walking can help to clear the mind.” It’s your first time outside in almost three days, and the sunlight burns you like you had been its victim on a sand covered shoreline for one too many hours. The hospital grounds are manicured, they’re neat and arranged with an abundance of flowers and colors in the open air but everything to you still feels so dull and lifeless, pointless and hopeless and walking only churns your thoughts to double, triple in size like a snow ball rolling down a hill. 
You’re finally allowed in to see Ivar and you approach slowly, like touching him will seer you suddenly, stain you with a unremovable pattern and you’ll forever be reminded. His blue eyes are dull and groggy when they open, the nasal cannula wrapping his face and your eyes dance over the scurf collecting on his jaw, and the faint bruising, cuts and scrapes on his skin.
“Hey baby,” His voice rasps and you kneel by the bed, tears already on their journeys to streak your tried skin and Ivar’s needle poked, IV covered arm comes to wipe what he can reach. “You were there, weren’t you?” And you can only nod, eyes still damp and you relish in the touch he gives you only if it’s for a second. “You saved my life, baby,” Ivar finally adds and that makes the whimper start again, the choke of a sob in your throat and he tries to quiet you, slithering a quick noise from his lips and you rest your head against the bed, his hand still on your hair. 
“I drove the ambulance over a hundred miles an hour,” You finally say and they’re the first words you can use to process the trauma you two had lived through together.
“That’s my girl,” Ivar smiles, speaking with a voice that sounds like sandpaper.
“I love you Ivar—no matter what happens, I love you so much,”
“I love you too, Y/N,” Ivar says and his voice is weaker now and he needs rest. “Kiss me before you go?” He says with eyes scanning your face, and you can’t deny that now. Pressing your lips softly against his, your hands cupping his cheek and you hope it’s not the last kiss you’ll ever get from him. “I’m not going anywhere, baby,” Ivar tells you. “I’m afraid. But I’m not going anywhere,” You nod as he speaks, a forehead against his for a second and his hand is still trying to reach on you where he can. This is the man that would pull the tubes and the wires from his chest if he could, if that would make him get closer to you. “You’re stuck with me,” And there’s a faint snicker after his words, weak and drowned out from the normal tone but you’ll take it after not hearing his voice for three days.
“I’m stuck with you,” You say back with a small smile. But it still doesn’t bring enough hope.
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sapnxps · 3 years ago
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(WTL) Chapter One: Greg the Neighbor- Georgenotfound x Reader
If I knew that when I moved to London, I'd have two weird neighbors, I'd laugh in your face. Now I'm friends with an old cat lady. Now I'm enemies with my cute neighbor that's definitely not single, who also screams too much.
Even though he's a dick, why can't I stop thinking about him?
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My parents told me I’d regret moving to London from the state before I left because I’d miss them and the US too much.
They were half right.
I’m sitting on a box messily labeled ‘kitchen’ in the hallway of my new apartment complex. I huff, wiping the sticky sweat from my forehead. The moving bill is almost 4 thousand dollars. If I knew moving would be this expensive, I wouldn’t have moved out from my parent’s house until I was 40. Sure, I moved a lot of my belongings across the Atlantic ocean, but 4 thousand dollars? Who do I look like, Jeff Bezos?
Today has been hectic, to say the least. Three of my boxes somehow drifted away to Spain. Don’t ask me how that happened, I don’t even know. I’ve been unpacking by myself all day. A box of my kitchenware got shattered upon arrival. I should’ve listened to my Mom on that one, she told me to just buy plates and glasses here instead of shipping them here. Big mistake I’m never making again. Finally, the biggest chunk of my problems: My apartment is full of boxes and I don’t feel like unpacking. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve been sleeping on an air mattress for two days, maybe not, but I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. If one more thing goes wrong, I think I might lose it.
Begrudgingly, I lift myself up from the box I was sitting on. It’s a bit dented now, but the way it felt on my ass, it’s just pots and pans. I open the door, pulling this box into my apartment. I weakly push it into the kitchen. It collides with one of the boxes filled with shattered plates. The sound of the broken glass sliding across the box sounded like nails on a chalkboard. I need to make a note to properly dispose of that. Turning my head to look around my new home, I feel my brain's short circuit. All these boxes unpacked, I’ve barely made a dent. This is going to take for-fucking-ever. Moving is modern-day torture. Oh, that’s funny. Remember to tweet that later.
The next three hours of my life are taken up by filling up my kitchen cabinets and drawers with cutlery and various kitchen utensils. The counter was now less bare, housing my toaster and breadbox. My Tupperware containers sat in a special place in the far-right cabinet by the sink. It looked like this home was lived in, as long as you didn’t glance anywhere else besides the kitchen.
I soon after tackled the bathroom, which was the less intimidating room compared to the living room and bedroom. I got the shower curtain hung up, which made it look nice. The rug found its way to the floor, protecting my feet from the cold, cream tile. The shelves were now stocked with a few fluffy peach towels and soaps. Underneath the sink had cleaning supplies as well as spare toilet paper. Living alone meant having nobody to give you another roll if you finish the other one. Kinda sucks. I had a boyfriend during high school, and two years into college. I dreamed of living with him, we planned it all out. I’d finish college, we’d move to a city and rent out the tiniest apartment we could find. We’d live it out until eventually we made ends meet and the rest would be. Dreams cut short though, he cheated. It’s part of why I left in the first place. Needed a change of scenery, new people.
That’s where I am now. New people. Stuck on that part. Haven’t gotten a chance to meet any, which is oh so tragic. I can’t decide if I want to introduce myself to the neighbors or let them come to me? I’m stuck pondering on the thought until I hear a knock at the door. I wonder if my lost boxes have mysteriously arrived.
Opening the door, I’m greeted with an older woman, holding out a small cake into my space.
“Hi dear, I’m your neighbor to the right. Heard all the commotion, saw all the boxes. I had to see for myself the fresh meat in the complex,” She paused before lightly tapping my arm with her free hand. “Just teasing! It’s great to have another lady on this level. The young man to your left, handsome fella, never comes out much though. Hopefully, we can have a girl posse or something,” Her posh accent made her much different than me. Is it wrong to already feel isolated?
I grin at her, moving out of the way to invite her in. “Nice to meet you, feel free to come in. I apologize for all the boxes scattered around, moving has been proven to not be quite my talent,”
The woman smiles brightly at me, shock plastered on her face. “You’re American!”
“That I am,” I chuckle. She hands me the cake, which I gladly accept. My diet has consisted of soggy hash browns from the complex lobby. She makes her way to what is settled in the living room, politely setting herself on my suede blue couch across from the large wall in the room. I place the cake on my counter by the stove, making a mental note to grab a slice once the woman leaves.
The shock never leaves her aged face, “Oh goodness! How amazing. I have a foreigner as my neighbor. You’ll find London quite lovely. I know how it feels to be isolated and removed from what you’re used to, but I promise you’ll fit right in,” She says as I settle myself on the loveseat a bit away from the couch.
“Where are you from?” I ask. She obviously isn’t American.
She smiles, “Just a bit east of Surrey. South of London. Beautiful area, grew up on a small cottage,” The woman was glowing as she spoke of her hometown. She was obviously proud of where she grew up. Compared to my southern Arizona town, this place seemed like heaven. A cottage? Sign me up.
“Sounds lovely,” I speak truthfully.
“Welp,” The woman slaps her laps, a way of signaling it’s time to end the conversation. Despite only speaking for a small amount of time, she seems like someone I can come to if I ever have questions about London or the terminology that I hear around the city. I’ll need to remember that she’s the neighbor to the right. As she began to see herself out, I remembered the other neighbor she mentioned. The young man to the left. I believe she used the term ‘handsome fella’ to describe him. Once she was out in the hall, I felt the need to find out more information.
“Oh!” I shout, hanging myself out into the hallway. She pauses her steps, turning back to me. “By the way, who’s my other neighbor? The guy you were telling me about. Does he have a name?” I ask.
“Greg,” She nods, resuming her short walk back to her apartment.
Greg. Ugly name.
I completely forgot about the conversation by dinner time. As I was munching down on my cake, delicious by the way, I heard loud yelling from my right side. I wouldn’t even call it yelling, more like high-pitched screaming. Who was my neighbor over there again? Greg? Greg. He was causing a ruckus and a mere heart attack at that. He was screaming so loud I nearly jumped out of my skin the first time I heard it. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he’s facing a very, very gruesome murder right now. Well, I guess I don’t know any better. I’m just wishing for the very best.
Another hour passes. The yelling never stops. It’s only 8, but my body is as awake as ever. I still have yet to get used to the new time zone. At times it was difficult, but I’m using it to my advantage now. I have some extra time to unpack and get my actual bed ready. My bed frame was put together professionally during lunch, so that was one thing checked off my list. The mattress I ordered was delivered yesterday. Now it was just the matter of putting the sheets on and preparing my duvet.
Fitted sheets fucking suck to put on a bed. I was currently struggling to put it on my nice mattress. It was edging close to 10 pm. The sky was dark, and I was stuck in some odd mixture of a starfish and the downward dog position. If this moment was a picture, it could be used for blackmail. The closer I got to finally getting the top right corner on my bed, the more stretched out I became. I was like one of those sticky hands you’d get in those toy dispensers at the grocery store. I was just about to get it, when another loud shriek could be heard. In shock, I slammed my head on the bed frame and lost grip of all four corners of the sheet.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mumbled underneath my breath.
Whatever. He probably has a greater reason to be screaming like this, right? Justified shouting, whatever you want to call it. My bedroom is closer to his apartment than the kitchen was. Is it nosey to try to figure out what he’s saying? I don’t want to be that type of neighbor. I’ll continue minding my business because I don’t want to find out some weird shit about Greg that I don’t want to know.
The screaming never stopped.
In fact, if anything, it got louder. And louder. And louder. Is it okay to call the cops here?
It’s midnight now. The next fucking day. And Greg is still screaming at the top of his lungs as if everyone else isn’t asleep. If I saw some normal citizen just trying to get some rest, I’d be fed up. Well, I’m still fed up. I’m also running on a messed-up sleep schedule, so it’s not like I was trying to sleep anyways. My bed is made now, and comfy as hell. I built a shelf to house some of my small decorations, with the entertainment of my noisy neighbor’s yells to accompany me. For some odd reason, it made me feel less lonely.
At about 2, I began to reject the company. I felt irritation grow in my chest as I heard the same high-pitched shrieks that I heard at 8. The annoyance that bubbled in me overtook my politeness. Before I knew it, I was up and in the hallway banging on his door. I didn’t have the time to care about my Daffy Duck pajamas sticking to my legs due to the heatwave hitting England right now. Before I even realize it, my fist is slamming on his door. I never knew I had the power to knock that hard, but my anger and blossoming resentment overpowered me. I continued banging until the door pulled away from its frame. Now I’m face to face with Greg.
Boy was he handsome.
I was met with a man, about 5 foot 9. His dark brown hair was disheveled. Strands of hair laid across his forehead messily. If he wasn’t screaming, I would’ve thought he was sleeping. He was wearing a fluorescent green hoodie with an odd smile plastered on the front. It was a bit large for his skinny frame, that’s unimportant though. His grey sweatpants were twisted on his legs. What the fuck was he doing? His face was delicately shaped. This jawline looks sharp yet fragile like it was constructed of the most fragile rose crystal I’d ever seen. His brown eyes reminded me of caramel, thick and way too easy to get lost in.
“Hi, uh Greg-” I start. I’m just realizing now how close I am to him. The scent of his spearmint gum floods my nostrils. It’s a bit powerful, crinkling my nose at the smell. It wasn’t gross, just very shocking.
“George,” He spat. That’s fucking embarrassing. I’m meeting him for the first time and I got his name wrong. I’m not taken aback for long though, because his attitude oozing from his simple correction was enough to disgust me. I’ve done nothing wrong to him, except maybe get his name wrong. Was my moving too much of a nuisance to him? Poor little British thing, he can deal with it.
I cringe, “Oh, um, sorry.”
He leans into the door frame, sweatshirt adjusting to the movement. Forget a tiny bit large, he was swimming in this thing. “Yeah, no problem. Can I help you or are you selling girl scout cookies at,” George checks his watch. “2 in the morning. If you are, I’m not interested, sorry ‘bout that,” His outfit makes me feel a lot less aware of mine. Despite his face being rather attractive, the outfit makes him look like he just rolled out of bed.
“Oh, yeah. I was wondering if you could lower the volume a bit, please. Or just stop screaming entirely, if possible. I don’t know if you have some weird shouting fetish, but I certainly don’t,” I chuckle. George, however, doesn’t chuckle. Actually, he looks rather unamused. If a human was an art museum, it would be George. Curling into a ball and falling into an endless void doesn’t sound too awful right now. I think I’ll add that to my itinerary. I’ll do it in my bed so I’m at least comfortable while I’m drowning in my own self-pity.
He grimaces, “Yeah. Sure.”
He’s blunt. Got it.
The second I turn my back to the door, it slams. Wow. What a cunt. Shaking the interaction off, I begin to feel the wear and tear of the day beginning to hit me. Moving all those boxes made my muscles ache. The solution to all my problems today seems to be going to bed. Not that I’m not okay with that, just funny. The day before I left for London, you’d think I was shocked by lightning. The electricity that was running through my veins was no match for any ADHD medicine the FDA had ever approved. Now, my body is beginning to fall victim to the earlier time zone. Not that it was a big deal, it was going to happen eventually. These next few days would just entail a difficult sleeping schedule. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.
I quickly find my way back to my own bedroom. The yelling was quieter, but I could still hear George through the thin walls. He was murmuring to someone softly. This apartment complex was all 1 bedroom apartments. He didn’t live alone. How lovely! I made a fool of myself to him, and he was most definitely telling his partner right now. Talk about dignity, am I right?
I scrolled through my phone for an hour, before the screaming returned to its original volume. Would it be overdramatic to say I felt my face go red with anger? I don’t think so. I think I handled the situation as politely as I could. Hell, I even cracked a joke so he could know I wasn’t that upset over the situation! If I knew he was going to resume his disruptive noises, I wouldn’t have been so nice or absolutely hilarious. Nobody that douchey gets my amazing humor. He didn’t even laugh! I hear another shout followed by a slam to a desk. What the fuck is wrong with this guy?
Welp. Welcome to London!
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jimlingss · 5 years ago
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Sugar and Coffee [10]
Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11
➜ Words: 5.2k
➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU
➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.
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You love baking.
It’s what got you through the years of high school, through your grandparent’s passing and when home wasn’t the refuge you wanted it to be. For a long time, baking was the only real interest you had. And for great reasons too. It was magic and every time you stepped into the kitchen, you felt like a magician, pouring ingredients in, mixing to get an instant product.    It’s chemistry with a sweet result. Something you can share with others.   And that passion has only deepened over time. You love baking desserts, pastries, cakes, tarts, everything. Even things with chocolate, no matter how hard it is to master them.   But fuck. Lemon meringue pie is an absolute bitch.   “The pie filing is a bit watery.” The teacher places her tasting fork down. “Not too bad, but lots of room for improvement, you two. Watch that starch.”   You and Jungkook sigh. This was your second attempt too. You swear this dessert is a nightmare in disguise and here to ruin your career.   Taehyung notices the gloomy atmosphere bogging you and Jungkook down. He slides up to your counter after the teacher goes to judge the next pair that have finished. “Can I get a taste?”   “Knock yourself out.” The boy beside you pushes the sad pie over to him.   Taehyung eats, tasting it thoughtfully on his palate, and hums.   “The crust is a bit soggy, huh?”   “I don’t get what we did wrong,” you mutter.   At least this was just practice and not a time-constricted examination. But so much for picking Jungkook as your partner. You thought he was the most competent baker in this class and thus the most worthy to bake with you. But maybe you gave him too much credit.   “Well, there could be a number of things you did wrong. Maybe you boiled your cornstarch for too long or at too high of a temperature. When did you add in the lemon? The acidity might’ve destroyed your cornstarch’s ability to stay thick,” Taehyung points out, suddenly an expert on pies. “Also did you make sure the lemon filing was hot before you spread the meringue? That might be your issue as to why the filing is a watery mess. Try again, guys. Maybe you’ll succeed next time.”   “What the fuck.” Jungkook has his brows furrowed, eyes narrowed into slits. Like you, he’s baffled. He doesn’t even process it and is unable to think of a comeback to Taehyung’s condescending tone.    Taehyung is an idiot. Usually. Since when did he know better than the two best people in class?   “Want a taste of ours?” A huskier voice sounds behind Taehyung. The brunette moves aside and you find Yoongi at the counter beside yours, a smirk plastered on his face. He sets down his lemon meringue pie. It looks similar to yours.   “Sure.”   You wonder what their pie’s issue is. But as you dig into the slice they cut and put it on your tongue, there’s an explosion of flavour.   Their crust is buttery and crispy, meringue fluffy on your tongue and soft. The filling is sweet yet balanced with a citrus sharpness to the flavour. You almost cream your pants as you swallow. Your mouth is watering for another lick, but you have too much dignity and pride to do so.   Unfortunately, Jungkook can’t hide his expression as well as you can.   “Good, right?” Both Taehyung and Yoongi are wearing shit eating grins, obviously relishing in your reactions. “The teacher said it was the best she’s tasted in a long time. Asked us if we cheated and bought it at a bakery.”   “This’ll probably be our last attempt.” Yoongi hums, crossing his arms. “Probably don’t need to try again. She said she’d give it an A anyway, and you can’t really get any better than that.”   You take a deep breath and grab Jungkook by the shoulder to drag him back to the counter with as much dignity as you have left.   //   The scent of lemon is stuck to your skin permanently. Even with a change of clothes and your apron stuffed in your locker, you can still smell the damn thing when you’re miles away from the kitchen.   “Can you smell that or am I going crazy?”   “No.” Jungkook already knows what you’re talking about. “I can smell it too.”   “God.” You bang on the door and Jimin opens it. “Hey, Chim.”   “Hey, guys.” The two of you step inside where the others have already gotten started, playing Super Smash on the TV with Yoongi and Taehyung battling against one another. It’s not an unusual sight, but what makes you stop in your tracks is that—   “Aeri?”   Your friend is seated on the couch with Hoseok’s arm looped around her casually. “Hey.” She greets you with a shy smile.   You nod, rather impressed at this new development. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”   “I didn’t either,” she admits and Hoseok grins at you.   You throw your bag down while Jungkook flops beside Yoongi, taking a controller to join in.   “Gonna play?” Jimin asks, about to hand you a controller too but you shake your head.   “Nah. Not yet. I’m starving.” You pat your stomach and walk to the kitchen, ready to raid the fridge of whatever it has.   “Don’t eat the meringue pie!” Yoongi shouts after you.   “Fuck you,” you spit without looking back. “I wouldn’t even if you paid me to.”   Now that’s one huge lie. But you still have your pride to hold onto.   “Let me join you.” Aeri gets up and scrambles from Hoseok’s arm much to his dismay.    You hum, peeking into the fridge and purposely overlooking the beautiful, godly pie in the middle. Min Yoongi must’ve placed it there to mock you on purpose. That fucker would.   But you aren’t swayed and you grab the jars of peanut butter and strawberry jam as well as the stale bread. You place the ingredients on the counter to slap a sandwich together.   In the meanwhile, Aeri lingers on the other side of the island. “How was your day?” she asks.   “Good,” you answer and don’t beat around the bush— “So you’re dating Jung?”   She coughs, sputters, caught off guard by your question. “Well…..I-I don’t know.” You loll your head to the side, giving her a look, and the blush on her cheeks deepen in hue. “Maybe? I don’t know…..it’s...kind of my first time….”   “Being in a relationship? Yeah, I get it.” You smile reminiscently. Even if you’ve lost a comrade to the curse called love, you can’t feel bitter about it. You know what it’s like — the excitement, butterflies, nervousness, how every touch got your heart racing into what you thought would put you into cardiac arrest. The innocence of a first love can never be repeated. “Do you like him?”   “Y-Yeah. I think so.” Aeri struggles to explain how she feels and makes wild gestures without realizing. “Every time I see him and every time he’s gone….I...I….”   “You miss him.”   The girl in the sweater nods and tugs on her sleeves self-consciously. “Sometimes I get really anxious that I’m doing something wrong and other times I’m so happy.”   “Yeah, that’s how it goes. Love’s a crazy thing, huh?” You spread the peanut butter on one side of the bread. “Fucks with your brain real bad.”   “It does,” Aeri agrees sheepishly. “And I don’t like being out of control with my feelings, but I think….it’s worth it.”   “I’m jealous.” The words come out before you can stop it, but then you reel back and you laugh it off, slapping both halves of your sandwich together. “Not really. I’m kidding. Anyway, take it slow and you’ll be fine. Hoseok’s a good guy. You have nothing to worry about.”   “Yeah, I know.” She grins, rocking back from her heel to her toes, beaming with joy.   “And if he ever hurts you, tell me.” You slam the butter knife you have in hand onto the counter and it makes her jolt in surprise. “I’ll kill him.”   Giggles bubble out of Aeri's throat. They diminish as you finish making your sandwich, tossing your tools into the sink. But she doesn’t easily let go of the slight envy you had accidentally expressed. “You’re doing okay, right, Y/N?”   “Things couldn’t be better,” you assure with a grin.   Except that’s a lie too.   The both of you arrive back to the living room and your ears perk, catching wind of a husky voice, “—pie is good enough to win the competition, guaranteed, so that’s why we signed up.”   If there was one thing in your life that could be better, it would be Min Yoongi and Kim Taehyung’s humbleness or rather, lack thereof.    “Are you still talking about your pie, Yoongi?” You scoff, flopping down to the couch, and eyeing him with a cocked brow. Aeri slides back beside Hoseok in the meanwhile and the dark-haired man is visibly happy to have her return to his side, arm coming to drape the back of the couch again. “You have no other accomplishments to rave about?”   “At least I have one.”   “It wasn’t even that good,” you tell the rest of them just for the record.   But Yoongi audibly scoffs. “Really? Because it looked like Kook here was about to start crying.”   “Jungkook always looks like he’s about to cry when he’s put on the spot.”   Your kitchen partner turns his head away from the screen towards you. “Excuse me?”   “Just admit it,” Taehyung eggs you on to further irritate you. “Our lemon meringue pie was the best thing you’ve ever tasted and that we’re going to crush the other teams.”   “After we pick up that five hundred dollar prize, I might as well retire.” Yoongi stretches out his muscles with a small smirk. “I finally found the product I can sell for the rest of my life.”   “Gordon Ramsay would probably put it on his menu to serve,” Taehyung says to his partner who shrugs nonchalantly.    “I wouldn’t be surprised.”   You whirl your head to the other people in the room to see if they’re hearing this like you are.   Both Jimin and Aeri are sheepish and shrug at you, not knowing what to say. Hoseok grins, enjoying the back and forth. But you know that look on Jungkook’s face, the expression he exchanges with you. The two of you are pissed off at their cockiness.   Hoseok notices and decides to throw gasoline into the fire. “Was it really that good?”   “You can try it if you want. It’s still in the fridge.” The corner of Yoongi’s lips curl. “But it’s better than Y/N and Jungkook’s, that’s for sure.”   “A lot better than theirs,” Taehyung says in a matter of fact way. “Theirs was sad, the filing and crust soggy. The meringue was weeping too. What a shame.”   “Can’t blame them,” Yoongi adds as he leans back into the couch, spreading his thighs like he owns the damn place. Which he does. But that’s not the point. “Lemon meringue is hard to make. Only the best. Excellent. Competent. Most talented can bake it.”   “That’s right,” Taehyung agrees.   A muscle in your cheek twitches. Your jaw clamps.   That’s enough for you to snap. “Jungkook and I are competing too.”   Your partner looks away from the game and quirks a brow. “We are?”   “Yeah.” Your eyes flicker from him back to the grinning duo. “So we’ll see who the best really is.”   //   It hindsight, it was a bad, bad decision made on impulse.   The baking competition was taking place on a Sunday at school with four teams already signed up, including Taehyung and Yoongi. The competition itself isn’t too shabby, especially considering that the five hundred dollar prize is a great incentive.    The problem is you and Jungkook haven’t prepared anything whatsoever. And it’s a problem that explains why most students don’t do bake-offs — sometimes it’s more effort than it’s worth.   The pair of you haven’t decided anything. You both haven’t practiced.    “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Jungkook asks, standing in front of the bulletin board with all the details of said competition happening within the next few days.   “Come on, Jeon!” You try to ignore your own doubts by firing him up, plopping a hand on his shoulder. “We have our pride and our dignity on the line.”   “I’ve never had too much dignity to begin with,” he mutters.   “Are you really going to let Yoongi and Taehyung tell you that they’re more competent than you?”   Jeon Jungkook scoffs, his competitiveness being poked at. “Yoongi can’t pipe for shit and the only thing Taehyung can bake is bread.”   “Exactly.”   He nods and together, the two of you sign your names on the sheet, bracing for whatever is to come.
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The day of the competition arrives sooner than expected.   You’ve gathered at an open kitchen with all your friends watching on the risers at the sidelines, and two of those most annoying idiots are at the counter beside you. There are ninety minutes on the clock and three teachers you know seated at the front with bright smiles. Mrs. Pham is nodding her head, Mr. Chu looking around while Miss. Kang coming forward with a microphone.   Something that should be a friendly contest has you, Jungkook, Taehyung, and Yoongi oozing an intense competitiveness that has the other three teams scared.   “Alright folks, when the timer begins, you can begin and get whatever ingredients you need from the pantry. Remember, you will be judged on taste, presentation and creativity equally! Try your hardest and have good sportsmanship!”   “Ready?” You lean in to whisper to Jungkook, eyes meeting his and he nods sternly.   “Is everyone ready?” Miss Kang lifts her arm and on three counts, grins. “Go!”   The timer begins and Jungkook books it to the pantry with Taehyung is hot on his tail.   In the meanwhile, you preheat the oven to four hundred degrees fahrenheit and grease two baking sheets that are already at your counter. Jungkook ends up coming back sweaty but with a basket of things you need and doesn’t seem to be missing anything.   “Nice.”   “Course, I have it all up here.” He mischievously taps his temple, making you lightly scoff.   “Hand me the—”   Before you can finish your sentence, Jungkook slides the butter across the countertop and you catch it.    “I got you.” The boy in the white apron winks, making you roll your eyes.   You combine one cup of butter and two cups of water in a large saucepan, putting it over medium heat. At the same time, Jungkook works in sync with you and gets two cups of flour prepared with a half teaspoon of salt.   Right when the butter finishes melting, you remove it from the heat and whisk in the flour and salt. He puts the egg carton beside you and begins to chop the semi-sweet chocolate he had gotten from the pantry.   Beside you, Yoongi and Taehyung have fallen into a rhythm as well. They shout calmly at one another, as calm as shouting can be. You know they’re not to be underestimated, but it’s comforting to know that you don’t need to win — you just need to beat Yoongi and Taehyung.   Miss. Kang approaches the pair of them. “What are you two doing here? Ooh, Yoongi, looks like you’re making pie crust and Taehyung you’re making working on some filing?”   “It’s lemon meringue pie,” Taehyung says with a grin, flickering his eyes up.   The teacher is genuinely impressed. “A classic, but one with great difficulty to master. I’m excited to taste it. Are you nervous at all?”   “Not really,” he responds. “Our pie is the best.”   “I am loving that confidence, you two. Keep it up!”   She continues around and as you’re working, you hear the team behind you are making rhubarb cherry pie. Another team is working on mocha truffle cheesecake and the last, a duo diagonal to you, is baking blueberry bread pudding.   It seems like everyone has a solid plan, but you don’t dwell or pay too much mind. You focus on beating the eggs into the mixture one at a time until the batter is smooth.   “What a lovely sight to see, Jungkook and Y/N!” Miss. Kang is ecstatic to see the two of you working together. Especially when she was the one who paired you both to the internship happening in two months while being completely aware of the bitter feud that was going on back then. “And what are you two making today on this beautiful afternoon?”   “We’re making croquembouche,” Jungkook says with a smile as he finishes chopping his chocolate. His announcement seems to get the attention of the other contestants, Yoongi and Taehyung whipping up their heads to look as well.   The teacher is taken aback. “And you’re making that in an hour and a half?”   “That’s the plan.” Jungkook grins with that bunny smile of his, channeling that Jeon charm of that almost has you rolling your eyes yet again.   “It will be very impressive if you two can pull it off. Well, good luck!”   Miss. Kang walks another round before waltzing back to where Mrs. Pham and Mr. Chu are waiting. She must murmur something to them because their eyes suddenly widen and they look over at your station.   Jungkook works on spooning the choux dough into twenty four small rounds on each baking sheet and once it’s in the oven, the timer sets for half an hour.    “It’s in.”   “Good.”   Quickly, you wash the raspberries and leave them to dry before preparing the caramel mixture. You pour the sugar into a saucepan and then add two thirds cup of water, allowing sugar to boil and you move to prepare the ice water.    Jungkook, on the other hand, heats the one cup of heavy whipping cream until it shimmers and pours chocolate over it. He stirs until it’s all melted and lets it sit to return to room temperature after sprinkling in coarse sea salt.   Once the choux is golden brown, it’s out of the oven and both you and Jungkook work side by side to pipe the ganache into the choux.   “Twenty minutes left everyone!” Mrs. Pham announces.   “I’ll grab the caramel,” Jungkook says and you nod, going to get the serving plate.   The both of you work fast. You dip the choux into the caramel and leave it on the tray for Jungkook to begin assembly. But in the midst of working, he notices your hands beginning to shake.   “Hey, Y/N.” He calls you softly and your eyes flicker up. “It’s going to be okay. We’re doing well.”   You nod. It’s calming to have his reassurance and you finish dipping all forty eight in while Jungkook forms them into a cone shape, towering up to your eyes. You bring over the caramel, the consistency that of syrup, and you lightly drizzle around the choux pastry puffs. The thin threads of caramel wrap around the dessert, gold and glistening in the light.   Jungkook’s brows furrow, placing the raspberries between them in the last few remaining seconds.   “Here.” You help him.   “Ten….nine….eight….seven….six….” Mr. Chu is counting down, watching the timer go off. Then it rings. “Alright folks, step away from your plates, please!”   It looks like all the teams have finished on time, and the scent of baking surrounds your senses — breads, chocolates, and cooked sugar. The air is sweet.   You look over and Yoongi and Taehyung are grinning. Their perfect lemon meringue pie is on their counter, exactly replicated from last time. But your eyes move back at your own dish, and you find pride blooming in your chest. The french dessert stands tall, choux pastry puffs piled into a cone shape and bound with threads of caramel wrapped around it.    On the sidelines, Jimin, Aeri and Hoseok are cheering, and while you’re not sure if it’s for the other team or your own, you like to think both of you deserve it.   “I think we did pretty well, if I do say so myself.” Jungkook gives you a cheeky smile, getting you to high five him.   You giggle after your hands slap together. “I think so too. Ours has the best presentation that’s for sure. It’s only about taste now.”   “I’m sure we’ll be fine. Well...I don’t know about your pastry, but my ganache filling is…” He does a chef’s kiss, gathering his fingertips together to kiss against them and then opening up his hand.   You scoff. “Please, Jeon. If there’s any issue, it’s going to be the caramel or the ganache. My pastry is perfect. I would know. My specialty is going to be in pastries.”   Jungkook grins, expression all too playful. “Okay, we’ll see then.”   The three judges go around, giving a taste to all the dishes and giving compliments. As expected, their eyes bulge at Yoongi and Taehyung’s pie, and Taehyung seems to charm them too. All of them laugh, openly wondering if they somehow cheated and slipped in a pie from a gourmet bakery.   “Very fluffy and crisp. Absolutely delicious.”   Mr. Chu bobs his head in approval. “I’m not much of a pie person myself, but very well done.”   “Thank you.” Yoongi offers a modest smile.   They move on, having nice things to say about everyone with few criticisms. And when they come over to you two, they’re smiling and all the contestants pay close attention. “Now to the dessert of the hour.”   “It’s incredible that the pair of you managed to make croquembouche in an hour and a half. It can take some up to four hours, so I’m very impressed over your ambition,” Miss. Kang admits, “There was a point I thought you weren’t going to make it. But you worked hard and finished it off, so well done.”   “A very tedious and painstaking dessert to make,” Mrs. Pham notes. “But you both work well together if you can pull off something like this under such strict time conditions.”   “Exceptional teamwork,” Mr. Chu agrees.    They each take a choux from the top onto their plates with raspberries, and a bit of caramel. When they bite into the pastry, they quirk their brows in surprise. “It isn’t pastry cream?” Miss. Kang chews thoughtfully. “It’s salted ganache.”   “Jungkook works well with chocolate and I work well with pastries so we decided to combine both our skills and put a twist to the usual croquembouche,” you explain.   “Very creative!”   “The salted ganache is also bittersweet and the choux is very crisp,” Mr. Chu says as he swallows. “Typically the choux has to be chilled in the fridge, but in spite of skipping that step, I cannot taste the difference. The raspberry is a good touch as well and not just for presentation.”   Mrs. Pham nods at him. “It’s crunchy and has a good bitter note to lessen the sweetness of the caramel. It’s perfect.”   “Well done, you two!” Miss. Kang grabs for another. Once they finish up, they take a step back. “We’ll take ten minutes to decide the final results!”   After the announcement is made, they return to their places at the front as Yoongi and Taehyung slink over.   “I’ll admit…” Yoongi ganders at your tower of pastries. “This is pretty damn extra.”   “We take challenges seriously,” you chime with a grin and he smirks.   “Can I have one?” Taehyung asks, fingers itching, eyes glimmering. “They made it sound so good.”   “Sure.” But you stop him before he can grab one. “On one condition. I get a slice of your pie.”   “Deal.”   “So you admit it.” Yoongi cocks his brow, smiling. “Our pie is delicious.”    “I never said it tasted bad.” You mischievously shrug.   “I want a slice too,” Jungkook says as he leans over. “Or two.”   Yoongi takes a choux off of your tower and grins. “Fine by me.”   While Taehyung moans about how good your croquembouche tastes, the other contestants come swarming over, curious and wanting one as well. Jimin shouts from the sidelines to save him one and Jungkook hands them out. In the meanwhile, you go over with Yoongi to claim a slice of the meringue pie and get Jungkook’s before it’s all gone too.   “Think you’re gonna win?”   Yoongi shrugs, surprisingly not as arrogant as before. “Maybe. We’ll see.”   You lightly scoff at him. “Where did that confidence go?”   But the dark-haired man merely shrugs. He cuts you a piece and you don’t hesitate to dig in. Yoongi smiles when he sees you openly enjoying the pie without restraint and then his eyes travel across the room to where Jungkook is still happily handing out the pastries. “So this is what the dream team can cook up, huh?”   “Dream team?” You frown.   “Yeah. You and Kook,” he says it like it’s obvious. “You two are the ultimate pair. What? You’ve never heard people say that before?”   “People? Who?”   His shoulders bounce nonchalantly. “Classmates. Teachers. I’ve heard it a few times and it’s true. You make up for what the other person lacks and you work well together. It was easier to deal with when the two of you still hated one another, but now that the top two kids can work with each other, it sucks for the rest of us.”   You burst out laughing. “You just have a lot to catch up on, Min. Don’t fall behind on me and Jeon.”   “Kind of hard not to when you’re both maniacs.”   Jungkook comes barrelling over for his piece of pie before you can eat it.   You also try other contestants’ desserts before the judges return, making you all scramble back to your stations.   “The results are in!” Miss Kang announces with a bright smile. “Everyone did exceptionally well today and it was difficult to come to a decision, but there’s a team in here today that was just exceptional and demonstrated that it’s possible to push the limits on taste, creativity, and presentation!”   You look over to Jungkook and he grabs your hand, bracing for it. “Please give a round of applause to our winners—”   Suddenly you’re being picked up.   Jungkook has his arms wrapped around you and lifts you off your feet, swinging you around. After a second, he sets you down onto your feet again, but you’re bewildered. There are claps from the few in the audience, the contestants and teachers applauding and all staring at you and Jungkook.    Aeri, Hoseok, and Jimin are on the stands cheering loudly. Yoongi is smiling while nodding in approval. Taehyung is grinning. And Jungkook places his palms to your cheeks. Your mouth forms into fish lips, face squished together, and he makes you look at him. Your dazed eyes meet his.   “We won!”   “We….won?” You blink. His doe eyes are glimmering like there are stars captured in his dark irises. Jungkook’s pretty — you never really thought about that before. “We. won. We won?!”   You can’t believe it. But after some words of congratulations, it sinks in.   “We won, you freaking idiot!” You jump on your feet and hug Jungkook again. He smells like chocolate and sugar, his apron dirty against yours, but you don’t particularly care. Not in this moment. “You’re not such an idiot, after all!”   Jungkook laughs, boyish features scrunched up. You smile at him.   Maybe Yoongi’s right. No. You know he is — you and Jungkook are the ultimate duo. Like two socks that make a pair, like two magnets that attach, like dumb and dumber. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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“Hey, Jungkook!” Baekhyun approaches him in between their class break, and they fist bump each other. “I heard you won that competition with Y/N. Congrats, man.”   “Thanks.”   “How’s it going by the way? Haven’t seen you in a while.” The two of them are not necessarily close, but they became friends in last semester’s sanitation and safety class where they both died of boredom together.   “As great as it can be with exam season coming up.”   “Yeah, it’s tough.” Baekhyun sympathizes with a sigh. “Business communications is destroying me. Like I need to get at least a ninety on the finals to pass the course.”   Jungkook sharply inhales. “That’s rough, dude.”   “But hey, after this then it’s just our internships. That’s the only thing getting me through it. That and my girlfriend. Oh yeah, you were going to do wedding cakes, right? How do you feel about it?”   “I’m still not sure,” Jungkook admits and then without thinking much, says, “The only thing getting me through it is being able to hang with Y/N.”   He hasn't seen you since the competition which was two days ago, but it’s still a long time. Especially when he’s used to you plopping down beside him during breakfast, lunch or dinner — when he’s used to you banging your fist on his dorm room — when he gets texts with you whining about period cramps — when you come from nowhere and pester him till the end of the world.   Jungkook’s still buzzing over the victory, but it’s been tough days one after another. The only thing that gets him through it is finally being able to see you and spend some time with you.    These days Jungkook prefers being with you anyway as opposed to hanging out with Yoongi, Taehyung, Jimin, and Hoseok. They’re noisy and always worsen his headache. Sure you like to purposely egg him on and tease him, but your company is still peaceful and worthwhile. Most of the time.   “So you two are finally dating?”   “What? No. No, we aren’t.” Jungkook laughs it off. It’s an odd idea that still sends shivers down his spine.   “Oh, okay, my bad.” Baekhyun smiles. “It’s just that I see you both hanging around together a lot and I’ve heard you talk about her a lot too.”   “Yeah, we’re friends.”   “So you’d be okay with it if she dated someone else?” he suddenly asks.   “Uh…” Jungkook’s caught off guard, mouth opening before closing like a fish out of water. “I guess?”   “You guess?” He pauses. Jungkook flashes him an odd look and Baekhyun laughs loudly, lifting his hands and backing off. “Sorry, I don’t mean to intrude or be annoying. It just reminded me of before my girlfriend and I got together.”    “It was kind of hard to tell where the line of friendship and romance was and then one day I realized that friends don’t really miss each other in the way that partners do. Like when you miss them when it’s only been a short period of time, like a day or two. But anyway,” Baekhyun sing-songs, “I shouldn’t stick my nose into anywhere it belongs. I know I tend to do that and Jessica always yells at me for being rude. Oh shoot. I should get going now before I’m late. See you around?”   “Y-Yeah….See you.”   Baekhyun smiles and walks away, not knowing the bomb he just dropped.    Jungkook’s brows furrow and he begins to dangerously wonder.    He wonders if he’s supposed to miss you like this when it’s only been two full days. If he’s supposed to come to you every time something goes wrong. If he’s supposed to think of you every time there’s good news. If he’s supposed to think of you this much.   Friends aren’t supposed to think about each other like this.
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slocumjoe · 4 years ago
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2 headcanons per companion
Cait:
- Touchy person. After learning and understanding that it doesn't inherently mean pain, learns to speak and hear it as a love language. Her touches are very jock, though. Shoulder slaps, light punches, hair ruffling, kind of an older brother form of physical affection. Often gets into play-fights with MacCready.
- Has a lovely singing voice, but no one knows because she never sings. Ever. If she sang, it would be a quiet, raspy croon. The type of singing you'd expect to hear in a castle ruins at the coast during a storm. Haunting and enchanting.
Curie:
- Amazing baker, not so good at cooking. Baking is a science, cooking is more about intuition and creativity. She's a by-the-books girl, and unless she has an exact recipe, her cooking is going to taste like anxiety. Great at breads, burns eggs. Always makes delicious muffins, her soups and stews are flavorless and soggy.
She has no idea. Thinks it's fine, and no one will dare tell her to stick to dough-based foods.
- The first time she got drunk, it was off wine. She woke up with her head in agony and on the roof of a shack about 50 miles away from Sanctuary. And with a tattoo on her back. Doesnt know about the tattoo. No one knows about the tattoo. It's a spoon. A very poorly done spoon. Possibly a ladle.
Danse:
- This man may as well be a bear. He has a big appetite, sleeps like he's hibernating for winter, is covered in thick body hair. Danse will wake up only for his natural alarm, his clock alarm, or someone walking up to him and telling him to get up. No noise or physical disturbance will wake him. Nothing. As for his stomach, he isn't a glutton, but look at him. Big guy needs fuel. He can eat a normal amount and be fine, but could get himself kicked out of Golden Corral.
- Speaking of food. He eats everything with no reaction regardless of if he likes it or not. It looks like he's bored even if he's eating the rare good meal. Food is just something neutral, with cons to certain things. He prefers plainer flavors, but is immune to spice. Can drink an entire bottle of Tabasco sauce, Sriracha sauce, and a chile sauce with no expression. The blank stare and spice immunity aren't synth things, Curie and X6 are just the opposite.
Deacon:
- Takes long walks at night through settlements. Feels at peace in liminal spaces. The ruins of Boston and all the other destroyed cities don't have the same effect. Something about being the only one aware, living unnoticed in a place filled with people. It's lonely, but nothing gives the same clarity.
- Hates subway tunnels. Go on forever, too long to see what's at the end, something could be at any corner - they creep him out. If you still, you'll hear something. Machinery even when the place is inactive. Shuffling. Even stiller, might hear breathing echoing from way down a tunnel. Hates it to hell and back. Has to take a long smoke break if he has to go in one alone.
Hancock:
- Weird with kids. Likes them, but worries about himself. He isn't the...best example. He has no filter, they can tell something is wrong about him, and he just doesn't know how to act. They're just tiny humans, but there are rules. He doesn't want to accidently hurt them or inspire them to follow his screwed up footsteps.
- He doesn't care about what people think unless he cares. Some schmuck sneering at him when he pops a mentats? That guy's issue. Nick's frown? Curie's wide-eyed fretting? The way Cait's face goes soft and her eyes crinkle in sympathy?
...that matters.
He starts using less.
MacCready:
- Extravert. He needs his space, but hates being alone. Not having a support to fall back on is terrifying. The most anxious he'd ever been since Lucy died was his time alone in the Commonwealth. Sure, he had people, but not...not people of his own. Not a family. Leaving his boy was hard and being alone just as. Was often nauseous and prone to headaches until the SoSu.
- Hates the acknowledgement of intimate body parts in public. Hancock and Cait went on a tirade of sex jokes and he was just as, if not more, squeamish as the other prudes. While exploring a vault, a sex ed video came on the projector and he was red as a tomato for hours. It didn't help that he was standing in front of it and...well. You know what happens when you stand in front of projectors.
Goes all blushy when more adult talk comes up. Apparently Danse didn't know what m*sturbation was and that moment in that room nearly had him crawling out of his skin.
Nick:
- Has a little switch in his brain that decides if he's capable of math. One day he'll be a walking calculator, another he'll forget that 7 is more than 6. He was a weird math student. Did all the reading and none of the work, aced the tests. You put him under pressure and he'll crank out the craziest equations, but you ask him to multiply two 4 digit numbers and you can see a little blue swirl in his eye before he sighs and goes to fetch scratch paper. Being a good tester doesn't mean he's not a born theater kid.
- Coat pockets are portals to other dimensions. Has everything you need. Bobby pins? Check. Ammo? Check. Food rations? Clean water? Smokes? Check. A small statue of Cappy? A page from a magazine that was never released due to a MLM scam in the publishing company? Half a pair of sunglasses?
Sometimes puts random garbage in his pockets just to screw with Ellie. Other times, genuinely doesn't know where things come from. Once found a yao gui claw in his chest pocket. It's a good luck charm, but he never picked it up and no one could have slipped it in. Jokes about the coat being haunted, but only half joking.
Piper:
- Opposite to Nick, things go missing in her coat. Nick calls it "the washer" for some reason. She'll drop a pen in a pocket and never see it again. Double checks the pockets for holes and splits before heading out. Still loses things. Once lost a whole pistol.
But more interestingly. She lost a purple gel pen.
Week later, Nick pulls a purple gel pen out of his pocket.
Has a corkboard for the theories about the connection.
- Makes an amazing stew of yao gui, carrots, potatoes, stingwing honey, and various herbs. Its a family recipe that just isn't a normal stew, there's something different about it. When asked, will joke that it's human meat. Very few people realize she's joking. Either way, it has a flavor that sets it apart from other stews.
The secret?
There's a mutated form of garlic in the southeast part of the Commonwealth.
Only her family knows where it grows and what it looks like.
Preston:
- Not so much of a night owl as much as he just...doesn't have a steady circadian rhythm. You can find him in the kitchen at 1 pm asleep on the counter in the middle or awake at 1 am making a 3 tiered cake. Doesn't have an alarm clock. His sleeping pattern bothers even the poorest sleepers. Danse is visibly upset when he describes his schedule.
- His history of partners, both romantic and purely sexual, is crazy. He has the most interesting and horrifying stories. One girlfriend was convinced she was the reincarnated Mistress of Mystery. A boyfriend cheated on him with his step grandmother. He was once involved in a multi-person break up because apparently his boyfriend was in a poly relationship that went south on all fronts due to a chem deal's profits going missing as they were about to split the caps.
Don't ask about Marge.
Marge was...probably something he imagined during a fever.
X6:
- His pantries and fridge have nothing but junk food. He likes vegetables and fruit, but they take up valuable sugar space.
Once ate a giant, 200+ year expired cheesecake and puked for an hour. When Nick found out, popped a fuse. X was out of commission for...so long. Turns out he's lactose intolerant.
- Has been flirted with so many times. Each time, turned pink and lost all control of his words. He becomes a stuttering, cherry-cheeked mess at romantic interest. Not because he reciprocates, he just wasn't trained for it. There is no protocol for "Wanna come back to my place?"
Someone kissed his cheek and he actually ran and jumped out of a window to escape. Hancock has it on video and sometimes watches it to produce serotonin.
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themonkeycabal · 4 years ago
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Wandavision Ep 7 Spoilers
Spoilers below
Good morning. There's a guy power washing the sidewalks at 12:30 a.m., and the drone from the generator is drilling into my brain. So I will watch WandaVision instead of doing something I might regret.
Previously on: Wanda was getting sick of Pietro's shit. Vision knows/thinks his wife is behind all the creepy shenanigans, and he tried to escape the Hex, only to fly to pieces in the real world. I can relate.
Outside, Monica, Jimmy, and Darcy were banished from the SWORD circus by Acting Director Dick, because of course. They snuck back in, also because of course. Darcy hacked AD Dick's files and found out he's Up to Something. Then she ran to try and help Vision and got herself arrested and handcuffed to a jeep. Which is where the brave SWORD agents left her when they ran away as Wanda, attempting to save Vision, expanded the Hex, swallowing Darcy and the SWORD compound, turning it all into a sitcom circus. Well deserved. Well, not Darcy, but anyway.
AD Dick escaped. Unfortunately. But, so did Jimmy and Monica who were off to her mystery aerospace engineer friend to find a way into the Hex.
Also, Tommy and Billy have powers.  
The episode 7 summary is a delight: "Two super-powered beings living ideal suburban lives suspect that everything is not as it seems." You don't say, Disney+.
Wanda wakes, regrets everything, and hides under the covers.  Understandable. Cut away to her addressing the camera The Office style "Look, we've all been there. Letting our fear and anger get the best of us; intentionally expanding the boarders of the false world we created". (cut to screaming running SWORD minions lol).
The boys come to get her, their game is freaking out. The video game controllers can't decide what decade they're in and are glitching it up.
Billy says his head feels weird and noisy. Wanda isn't terribly responsive. Mommy needs some her time.
"As punishment for my reckless evening, I plan on taking a quarantine-style staycation. A whole day. Just to myself. That'll show me." lol
Wanda eventually rouses herself, goes downstairs in her robe and sweats, ignores the boys fighting over a video game controller, and goes for the sugariest cereal. The milk container keeps glitching, she tries very very hard to ignore that.
Interesting Office-style opening credits, where it's just her name on everything. Vision is only added at the end, with the tag "Created by Wanda Maximoff".
Out in the real world, what is the point of SWORD? Like how do they have jurisdiction? Where is SHIELD. Director Mack, wtf, dude?
Anyway, now that part of their camp has been swallowed by the hex, they're further out, staring at the angry glowing force-field. AD Dick is a dick. He wants to know what's happening with the broadcast. His little minion says the signal's gone. Ominously he says "we launch today". Mmmm, what delightfully heavy-handed dipshittery will we have to endure?
Back inside. Vision wakes in the field at the edge of town that is now a circus. And lots and lots of clowns. He gets yelled at by a strongman who seems to think Vision is the new clown and tells him he's late for rehearsal with the escape artist. Who is Darcy. lol
"I put in for the bearded lady. But this alabaster complexion wasn't fooling anyone."
Darcy is chained to a ye olde fire engine or tractor or something. Vision walks up to her making a weird face and kind of waving his hand back and forth between them.
"You don't remember me from last night? We locked eyes, there was an unspoken understanding." Darcy tells him "um, hard pass." lol She busts out of her chains and walks away, Vision chases after.
Back at home, Wanda wants to know if the boys have seen dad, they haven't, but Billy wants to know about that whole thing Uncle Pietro said about dad being dead again. Wanda says Pietro is not their uncle. The boys don't understand, and Wanda has a little rambling breakdown about how she has no answers and maybe there's no meaning to anything ha ha don't worry boys mommy's just having a little depression.
Agnes knocks and then, you know, strolls in, when Wanda magics the door open.
"Hi Agnes. I'd get up but I just don't, ahahahah, want to." If I was Billy or Tommy I'd mount a search for dad. Stat.
Agnes: "I think I got there in the nick of time, 'cause she was one split-end away from cutting her own bangs."
(It's 1 a.m. and I swear to God, that man is still power-washing the sidewalks.)
Agnes suggests the boys go with her and give mommy that 'me time' she so desperately needs. The boys are reluctant but Wanda is ecstatic.
Once alone with her certainly soggy cereal, Wanda settles back to watch crappy daytime TV. But, damn it, the furniture is glitching through the eras.
"I'm fine! I'm fine hahahah. *sigh* I'm fine. i'm fine. … I'm fine."
In the real world. Jimmy and Monica are still on the move. The file on project whatever it was from last episode (Cataract), that Darcy forwarded to Jimmy's email, has finally found its way to him. It's R&D reports.
Oh, that asshole, AD Dick was trying to bring Vision back online. Monica puts the pieces together "Heyward wants his sentient weapon back."
Jimmy says somebody has to tell Wanda.
Good thing they arrive at the other side of the Hex, I guess? Where Monica has another team waiting. An Agent Goodner. They brought her like some sort of big Mars rover thingy.
Vision is still trying to talk to Darcy. "You tried to help me." "Doubtful. I'm notoriously self-involved."
lol, some amusing back and forth. Darcy is an f'ing delight and I don't just say that because I am obviously hideously biased.
Vision distracts her with a mime and takes the opportunity to do his brain mojo on her, waking her up. "Part of me secretly wanted a guest spot on this show, but seriously that sucked."
"Dr. Lewis. I have questions." "I have answers."
And then they steal the funnel cake truck.
"Dr. Lewis, my questions. Are my children safe?" "That I don't know." "And who was that Pietro?" "Beats me."
Wanda is still working on her bowl of cereal. Give it up, sister. The house redecorates itself around her.
Uh-oh, in her talking head segment, about how she doesn't understand whats going on, the person behind the camera speaks, and asks if maybe it's what she deserves. "You're not supposed to talk."
Commercial time. For a depression medication. "Nexus, a unique antidepressant that works to anchor you back to your reality. Or the reality of your choice."
Back in Westview. The boys are hanging at Agnes's. Billy has a rabbit. As happens at your crazy neighbor's house. But, he says he likes it there, because it's quiet. "You're quiet, Agnes. On the inside." J'ACCUSE, AGNES!  
Back at Monica's backup camp, she's getting suited up in her SWORD astronaut suit. Jimmy's sad because Darcy's missing the fun. But, Monica will rescue her. SWORD is worse than SHIELD for slapping their name all over everything.
Monica and the little rover zoom off to the hex. Should she really go that fast? Maybe this is something to take cautiously? Oh, and look, she hit it hard and she's stuck. The Hex doesn't want to let her in, but she keeps trying. And now the Hex is eating into the rover — sorry, *re-writing* it. Well that was a dumb plan. Sorry guys, but come on.
Monica escapes, but the hex eats the rover and then spits it out, the front half transformed into a truck. Monica is shocked, Jimmy calls for a medic, and as they run forward, Jimmy, who has known Monica for like two days, recognizes she's got 'I'm a heroic dummy' face on and he's all "noooooo!". She runs for the hex and pushes her way in.
This is a really long sequence of her going through the hex. Like … too long. Sorry, but it is. There's a whole thing where she's hearing voices from moments in her life, and she hears Carol tell her how she's a tough kid, and now Monica is Filled With Resolve and breaks through the Hex, still in her Astronaut outfit, so like she resisted the sitcom wardrobe department.
I enjoy this show, but there are moments of hokeyness that I find very trying.
The hex rewrites you at a basic level as you pass through it. So, third time through and Monica's eyes are glowy blue and she can, like, see electrical currents, or electromagnetic fields (it looks like). Trippy. She can see power along the power lines, fields around streetlights. Closing her eyes and shaking her head makes it all go away. Of course.
Meanwhile, Darcy and Vision are on their slow-speed getaway in the Funnel Cake truck. She's trying to catch him up on what's happened since he's been dead. They keep hitting red lights and obstacles. Vision thinks Wanda's doing it to keep him from getting home. "I'm not amused," he tells the camera with a very not amused face on. lol
Vision is trying to understand what he is now. It's not going well. "My corporeal form was born from Ultron's plan for global genocide?" "Correct-o." Darcy might not be the best person to be explaining this to him.
"What am I now?" Poor Vision.
Darcy takes a deep breath. In fairness, she looks like maybe she'd rather not be the one doing the explaining, either. "Honestly, I'm a STEM type of lady, so I thought she just flipped a switch on your head and brought you back to life. What I don't get is why you can't leave the hex."
Vision is having an existential crisis. But, Darcy assures him that based on her week-long experience as a fan of WandaVision, he and Wanda do really love each other. So, there's that. "You belong together," says the shameless shipper.
Meanwhile, Monica has arrived at the Maximoff residence and busts into the house, breathlessly trying to tell Wanda it's all Heyward being a dick, but Wanda's stunned by the sudden entry and then too pissed to really listen. "The drones, the missiles, Pietro." "No, Pietro wasn't us." "All you do is lie." She's tossing Monica around with her powers.
Monica, friend, buddy, pal, was that really your plan? To barge right in and just … what? Talk fast and hope she didn't yeet your ass again? Okay, she didn't have a lot of time, I get that, but surely she could have come up with something. Like, she should have found Darcy and Vision first, and then the three of them could approach Wanda. But, no. Jimmy Woo would have a plan, Monica.
Well, fortunately for Monica she's been rewritten into Electricity Lass. She hits the ground with a staticky crackle and her eyes glow blue again. Wanda's all "bu-whu?"
"The only lies I've told are the ones you put in my mouth," Monica says all angry like. Mmmkay, I thought you were trying to help? Wanda does not care for this response. Because, no offense Monica, but the last time she heard your voice, she had a missile launched at her head.
Monica challenges her. "Do it then, take me out." Not an approach I’d go for, but it seems to work, and Wanda hesitates and Monica tries to warn her again, that unlike Wanda who isn’t actually violent and evil, Heyward will burn down Westview to get what he wants. "Don't let him make you the villain."
"Maybe I already am."
Next door, Agnes is looking out the window, watching them, with a considering look on her face. BECAUSE SHE IS IN ON WHATEVER THIS IS.
Monica is still trying to talk down Wanda. Agnes interrupts. Creepily. And shepherds Wanda away.
Vision and Darcy are thwarted in their journey again. "Oh come on! Kids? What's next? Puppies?"
Vision takes the faster way and intangibles himself out of the van and flies off, leaving Darcy at the endless intersection. "Go on! I'll just meet you there then?"
Back at Agnes's shack of creepy ladies who are freaking up to something. Where are the boys? Oh, Wanda notices the half-eaten PB&Js and the nightmarish kids' show on the telly. Behind her the bunny is in its cage. No sign of the boys. Agnes says they're probably playing in the basement.
Wanda wanders off to find them. But, there are no boys, only horror show creepiness. The basement turns into some weird sort of domed cavern with arches all around and in the middle a weird glowing rectangle.
Agnes comes up behind her. "You didn't think you were the only magical girl in town, did you?" I was wise to you, Agnes. Which, given she was a featured co-star, was probably no great insight on my part. BUT STILL!
"The name's Agatha Harkness. Lovely to finally meet you, dear." OH! LOLOLOL! OH, I didn't see that one coming. Wow, you got me, show. It never occurred to me for a second that it was Agatha Harkness.
And now a fantastic montage of Agatha doing tricksy things as Agnes through the series, with the best theme song ever "Who's been messing up everything? It's been Agatha, all along! Who's been pulling every evil string? It's been Agatha, all along. She's insidious. HA HA! So perfidious." Oh man, this is great. "And I killed Sparky, too."
LOL. Great ending.
Hey, an unexpected mid-credits scene of Monica trying to get into the house. Maybe Agnes's? Oh, yeah, she finds a storm cellar and opens the doors, to see a stone stairway with vines or roots growing all around it and zippy electrical sparks and such. Pietro appears behind her. "Snoopers gonna snoop."
Credits!
Well then.
I KNEW IT! I didn't know what I knew, but I knew I knew a thing!
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sweatergirlsposts · 4 years ago
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Imagine Nancy Trying To Find You After The Events at The Star Court Mall
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Title: My Savior
Pairing: Nancy Wheeler x Fem Plus-Size!Reader
Request By: @soggy-enchilada​
Warning: Mention of Blood and little angst
Worry is all that flooded Nancy’s mind. 
The disappearance of so many people, due to the events at Start Court Mall, made the town distraught as they tried to find their loved ones. So many were consumed and flayed to make the body mass of the mindflayer. Nancy knew that everyone in her family was safe as they went back home after the event of that night but there was one person she was fretting over. You.
You, her axe wielding outdoorsy rescuer who she secretly was smitten for. When Johnathan and Nancy went out looking for Barb and Will, you had been in the area. You were collecting wood for your hidden cottage when you felt yourself being watched. Dropping the forgotten kindling on the forest floor, you held you axe in hand to protect you from whatever unknown that was in the forest.   
“NANCY!”
“JOHNATHAN!”
You heard screams coming from not too far away. 
‘What the hell are people doing out so late in the forest?!’ you thought. At least you knew the forest like the back of your hand, unlike the locals who were out here with you. Still being cautious about whatever was watching, you followed the sound of the screams holding your axe ready to attack. 
You found the boy first. Slightly lanky in posture, bowl cut hair, adorned in a  black jean jacket and flashlight in hand. A foul smell lingered in the air of similar odor to decaying animal flesh. You noted the smell earlier when you first ventured into the woods that night but never thought to go investigate. The smell was the strongest here. 
“Nancy?” the boy called out getting on all fours in front of a tree. You observed from behind a tree close by, wondering why he was talking to the stump part of the tree. Not to seconds later you could see a hand emerge from the stump, making the boy jump backwards. From your view from behind a substantial tree, it scared you half to death to see a slimy small human hand emerge from the tree. You crouch down in the wilderness, slowly making your way closer to what’s happening. You wanted to be close enough if you had to step in but far enough to be able to run away.  
“JOHNATHAN!” a voice screamed coming from the tree. Johnathan, you assumed, responded immediately after being startled by the hand before calling out to the voice. 
“Nancy!?” Johnathan scrambled to reach for the hand popping out of tree and started pulling like he was in a game of tug-o-war. Pulling with all his might, he dragged her out from the slimy abyss in the tree, and she landed on top of his form.
Thinking that she was free, Nancy let out a long held frightened sigh at what just happened to her. Where did she go? What was that thing?!  Flooded her shaken mind. All that mattered was that she was out of there and was now safe.......or so she thought.
Gone without notice to the locals, except you, materialized an appendage of some sort that reached through the flesh veiled cavity. What looked to be a clawed hand unfurled from the form of a fist  and seized the teenage girl by the foot. 
‘It’s got me,’ is the only singular thought that popped into Nancy’s brain as she felt her heart drop to the bottom of her toes where the creature had a grasp on her and tugged. Nancy let out a yelp as she felt herself being tugged backwards towards the hole, startling Johnathan. It took him a couple of seconds to realize until he felt Nancy being pulled off of him.
“Hold on Nance!” Johnathan clambered back onto his feet before grabbing under her arms and tugged back. The creature was strong and Johnathan could feel his feet starting to give out beneath him.
“Don’t let me go!”
“I won’t!”
It was now or never you thought. You let the creature get to the locals or you help out. You chose the latter. You ran from behind your new hiding spot behind a fallen tree, axe glistening in the moonlight, ready to help the locals. 
Too focused on the monster grabbing Nancy’s leg, neither Johnathan and Nancy noticed your incoming approach. Johnathan gave one massive tug, exposing  the arm further out from the decaying hole. 
You wound up for the swing, axe coming from directly behind your head down onto the creatures extremity.  Clean cut to the bone off came whatever limb that tried to grab the poor girls leg. Thank god you had sharpened your axe that morning.
The creature let out a haunting shriek feeling the detachment of it’s limb to it’s body and retreated the rest of the limb back to through the flesh veil. 
You looked at where the girl was pulled out of. It was some type of fleshly decaying hole that was closing as to be no longer used and revert back into the bark and wood it originally was. 
The detached hand laid limp on the ground. You bring the axe down one more time to make sure that it wouldn’t suddenly start moving. You had seen John Carpenter’s ‘The Thing’ too many times to know to always make sure it was really dead. You could feel small splotches of blood from the creature on your round cheeks as if they were supposed to be freckles. 
You took a couple of breaths trying to calm down from the sudden adrenaline rush before turning to the two horrified teenagers still on the ground.
You dropped the axe to the side to make yourself less intimidating to them and spoke, “What the hell are you guys doing out here?”
“We could ask you the same,” spoke Johnathan.
“I live out here,” you stopped before offering each of them a hand. They looked at each other and then decided to take your hand. Johnathan got up with your help fine, but Nancy stumbled into your stocky form.
“Woah there, you’re probably feeling some effects of shock...” you trailed off trying to get a name from the girl
“Nancy, and this is Johnathan,” she motioned to Johnathan behind her as she moved back from you regaining her footing, “How did you find us?”
“Well when your screaming bloody murder it’s not that hard to find someone. You guys had let the whole forest know you’re out here. You guys should come with me if you want to survive the night out here,” you warned them. 
Nancy could feel the genuineness in your words, after all you just saved her from that thing. Nancy was about to take a step forward to follow you, but Johnathan held out an arm to stop her.
“Wait. Why should we go with you?” Johnathan sized you up, trying to tell if you had other intentions. You didn’t like when people would give you once overs, especially after you save their life.
“Do I need to remind you that I just saved you and your friend here,” you scoffed, “besides I know the forest like the back of my hand. I can show you back wherever you came from in the morning, it’s too dangerous to go now. I have a cottage that’s a five minute walk from here, but it’s fine by me if you get lost. I was just trying to help,” you picked up your axe and rotated to the walking direction of your cabin. 
“Wait we’re coming,” Nancy spoke up gathering her bearings and grabbing Johnathan by the arm and dragging him along. 
Nancy was thankful that she followed back to your cottage instead of getting lost that night in the woods. Over the next two years, Nancy would visit once a week. Being saved from a monster can really bond two people together. 
A lot of the time she would help tend to the greenery placed in your cottage. You had an affinity for growing plants, flowers, and natural herbs in your house. In addition to your indoor plants, you kept a small self built green house in the back where you held all your vegetables and fruits. In the spring and summer, elegant colourful flowers would surround your property like it had came straight out of a fairy-tale.  
Being around you was very calming, Nancy thought in comparison to the monster hunting life, it was peaceful almost. She could see why you liked living here in the woods. 
You told her that your parents had home schooled you in the cabin up until last year when they had their ‘car accident’. There was two reasons why you stayed out of suburban Hawkins and lived in the forest you told her. You stayed because it’s your parents house and it was the only thing you had let of them and you don’t think that Hawkins would be very accepting of you per say. 
You waited a year of knowing Nancy, before you officially told her of your liking towards the same sex. Instead of revolting away in disgust or showing if she uncomfortable, she sat there shocked, not in a bad way but just in surprise. You told that she wouldn’t have to worry about you liking her or any of the sort, you told her that you just wanted to get it off your chest.      
 It might have stopped your crush from ever growing bigger than it already was on Nancy but it didn’t stop hers. Yes she might have went out with Steve and Johnathan, and liked being with them, but that didn’t stop from hiding her curiosity towards you.   
Nancy was worried when she hadn't heard from you in the days leading up to the battle of Star Court, but she was so caught up in everything that she didn’t have time to make a trip out to you in the forest. When she learned that Brimborn Steel Works, the breeding ground for the mind-flayer was near your property, she hopped into her mom’s station wagon and sped to your property, giving no regard for the speed limit on the road.  
Pulling up onto the dirt road path that lead up to your house, she spotted your red Chevy LUV pickup at the side of the cottage in it’s usual spot. That meant one of two things to Nancy. You were either inside live and well tending to your plants or not inside at all and had been taken by Billy Hargrove to be used by-
Nancy didn’t even want to think of the possibility of you being dead.
Nancy pulled on the sleeves of the sweater she wore. It was actually your sweater. You gave her the sweater that night as something temporary to use for clothing instead of wearing the mucus-caked one’s she had on. It was a bit big on her petite form but kept her warm nonetheless. She never really gave it back, but you didn’t mind her wearing it. It looked better on her, you’d believe as you’d try to suppress a smile. 
Nancy got out of the and took notice that the flowers had been wilting while some had died and looked to be rotted.....just like the pumpkins on the Wright farm pumpkin patch last year. 
Nance could feel the spike of fear stabbing her heart and rushed over to your front door banging on it to see if you were home.
“(Y/N)! (Y/N)” Nancy shouted still pounding of the door.
No use. Nance went to the side window where your bedroom was. Everything looked still and untouched in your bedroom. On the inside window sill sat the small fern plant that Nancy had bought you for your birthday a couple months ago. The fern was no longer a bright and lively green but now shriveled and looking ready to turn to dust.
Nancy went back to your front door and tried banging again. No answer. You would have answered though. The only people that visited you were her and Johnathan.
‘No answer, wilted flowers, dead fern, untouched room, no answer, rotten flowers, dead fern, untouched room’
Nancy collapsed to the ground knowing the worst happened. 
It got you.
Quiet sobs racked her form as she felt her heart rip string by string. She lost her savior.
You had just finished cutting down logs for the day in the forest. Wheelbarrowing them back  to the cottage, you noticed Nancy’s mom’s station wagon on your dirt path. You put the wheelbarrow down and jogged down the path to your cottage.
You were so worried about Nancy(more than anyone) and everyone especially since the steel works was on your way to town and you knew that that thing was there. You didn’t want to risk going into town if it meant risking your life against that abomination. You guess that they took care of it if that meant Nancy is here. 
You looked at your porch as you jogged to your cottage and notice a petite form, one that you could recognize anywhere, curled in a ball on it. 
“NANCY!” you shouted still jogging over, “NANCY!”
She heard her name and lifted her head. There you were, coming over like a dream that she made up in her head to console her about your death. But you were too real for her to be imagining right then. She wiped the tear tracks from her face and then clambered to get up and run to you. 
Nancy ran into you not wasting any second longer to be consoled by you in your comforting soft arms. 
“I thought you were dead!” Nancy cried into strong shoulder, hugging you, “Please don’t ever scare me like that (Y/N)! I can’t loose you”
“Hey, hey it’s alright Nancy Drew. I’m here, I’m alive” you pressed a comforting kiss against her forehead. 
“But but the flowers! You didn’t answer, I thought they took you,” Nancy whimpered still in slight hysterics. 
“Nance everything is okay, well maybe not the flowers, but I’m fine. I was just out chopping wood. I had to make some of the flowers wilt in case anyone came around and thought I was here and take me. But hey, I’m not going anywhere,” you leaned your forehead against hers
“Promise?”
“What kind of savior would I be?”.
MASTERLIST 
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azure-steel · 4 years ago
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 Instructions: Always repost with the rules, answer the 11 random questions left for you and leave 11 more for the people you tag!
MY QUESTIONS TO ANSWER
1.  What to you prefer while writing? Silence? Television? Music? If it’s television or music, what would be playing?
Music, whatever I’m doing be that writing, drawing, working, cleaning, you name it. I need music on in the background. TV tends to distract me and juices just don’t flow if I’m in silence, so the headphones are on and I’m away~
2. What is something specific that you always look for in your writing partners?
Just general friendliness really. I’ll talk to anyone and everyone and I’ll write with them too (even though I’m guilty of being a lil shy and easily intimidated but that’s by the by.) I like to have a good friendly foundation with my writing partners, and typically where there’s a ship involved just so I know what kind of vibe we have, to know my limitations - if any. I like to feel super comfy with the people I write with, and I love to gush about our muses and their shenanigans, without that interactions tend to fall apart for me, you know? And I’m very guilty of not attempting to try again in the future if I feel I can’t come talk to you :/ 
It sucks but it is what it is. 
3. What is your favourite season of the year and why?
I’m European so I LOVE heat. Summer is where I come alive baby~
4. How many blogs do you maintain across Tumblr? Do you roleplay on any other sites?
I have 2 blogs but I only maintain one at a time. I haven’t the patience or the brain to balance more than one muse at a time. I have no idea how you multimuses do it, I really don’t, I envy you ;o;
5. Tell me your favourite food. Least favourite food?
Cake. I love cake, if I could eat nothing else for the rest of my life I would just eat cake. I mean... I’d die but I’d die happy you know? As for least fave foods... sprouts, fuck I HATE brussel sprouts they’re just nasty, soggy horrible leaves and I don’t understand why people go nuts over them at christmas. You can keep em, bleh. 
6. Leave some kind words about one of your mutuals here! Maybe you’ll make someone’s day brighter or help others find a new writing partner!
lol, I’ll pass on this one. I don’t want to upset anyone by giving love to just one person. There are far too many that I heart so bad, even if they don’t heart me so much xD
7. Do you have a favourite ship that you currently write?
I have so many ships that I adore but there’s 2 that I simply cannot get enough of so I will write about both of them!!
Clerith: with my dearest friend @pulchralilium. This ship man... THIS SHIP!! Just, I’d avoided it for so so long and thinking back I’ve no real clue why because these two babs are just MADE for one another. There’s just so much chemistry between my muse and hers and it really doesn’t even matter what verse we plonk them in. They gravitate towards one another and the love they have is undying and so very pure.  I mean they have fun too, teasing each other and generally fooling around. But there is absolutely nothing Cloud would not do for her, he’d die for her if he had to, hands down!!
Cloud x Mercy (Clercy LOL): with the ever so fantastic @mercyxkilling. Okay, it’s difficult to know where to start here because so much has happened already and I am just HERE for this ship. Like, they were ENEMIES when they first meet. They don’t know one another but Cloud works for a rather infamous “Pirate Queen” who sees Mercy as a threat, so that initial footing is already off to a bad start. But things happen, trust builds and feelings develop and they are just... so INTO each other it’s disgusting~ Both of them have had real crappy lives up to this point and they find these missing pieces within each other they never truly realised they were missing until then and watching them come to care for one another, to falling in love, it’s the best thing.  For serious though, these two are the HOTTEST couple in the Milky Way and they damn well know it too~
8. Is there a character that you deeply wish you had a chance to write with one of your own? If so, who and why?
None really come to mind, but I would love to have some father/son interaction with a Denzel one day. I just adore that relationship so much and I always have hours where I hanker for some good wholesome family vibes ;u;
9. Pets! Do you have any pets? Bonus points if you send me pictures of them!
I have two moggies. A black male, Lord Shaxx. He’s an absolute monster~ and Yuni, my oldest best girl. I love my kitties, they are like my kids!
10. What’s your definition of a perfect self care day for yourself?
Playing vidya games, watching crap tv and just generally doing stuff I wanna do at my leasure~
11. If you could recommend a book or television show to anyone reading this, what would it be?
Hmmmm, I haven’t read a decent book for some time, but the A Story Of Fire and Ice series is just amazing. I know GoT got some bad rep for pacing issues and the ending to that show was just TERRIBLE, but the books are a whole different animal and I can’t recommend them enough. 
For TV: Stranger Things. FUCK. THIS SHOW IS SO FUCKING AMAZING YA’LL. If you haven’t watched this already I do HIGHLY recommend!
Tagged: I wasn’t. I stole it from @oflockharted
Tagging: just steal it and say I tagged ya if you want. I ain’t adding my own questions because I’m lazy. 
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cat-in-a-fedora · 5 years ago
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Reunion Falls
I think I found something for the reunion falls au of Gravity Falls on the original creator’s blog. The reblog and like functionalities weren’t working for some reason, and I couldn’t find it in the creator’s archive. I really like this, though, so I’m gonna put it here and give credit.
This was originally on @sailorleo, and I couldn’t reblog it for some reason.
`-i dunno, he’s like, really weirdly clingy, but when we’re together all he wants to do is talk about his band…
-dump him.
-dipper that’s the same advice you’ve given me for every boyfriend i’ve ever had
-then why don’t you ask mabel?
-fine, maybe i will. mabel, what do you-
-no actually i think dipper’s right you should dump him
-teen soos playing with baby dipper and getting all excited when he says his name
-it would work better if stan actually knew mabel was coming beforehand, but just couldn’t work up the nerve to tell dipper until the last minute. by some fluke, mabel arrives a day early, and makes contact with dipper while stan is out.
-stan tells dipper that at the time of his birth his parents weren’t expecting twins, and couldn’t afford to take care of two children at once. he only told the kid they were dead because he thought it might be easier to handle than the idea that his parents didn’t want him.
-what are you still doing up?
-’m makin’ a sweater for grenda. she’s bigger than me, so it’s taking longer. you had a nightmare?
-no big deal, it was just an anxiety dream.
-a what?
-it’s like a nightmare, but instead of being scary it just makes all your deepest insecurities a reality. grunkle stan says they’re the brain’s way of reminding you that life could always be worse.
-…that sounds dumb.
-yeah, well, life isn’t fair, mabel.
-that corduroy girl out sick today or somethin’?
-what? um, no! i was just, uh… i tripped. on a rock. a lot of rocks.
-oh c'mon, kid, you think i never got the snot kicked outta me in elementary school? i know a fist to the face when i see it. c'mere, let’s fix you up.
-what can i do, though? they’re all bigger than me, and if i tell the teacher i’ll just look like even more of a wimp.
-ha! if you don’t wanna look like a wimp, you should stop letting other people fight your battles for ya.
-but i can’t-
-now hold on. i know you can’t, you’ve got about as many muscles as a soggy piece of toast. but one thing i know about the world is that guys who were born bigger, stronger, and smarter are always gonna punch down. and guys like you an’ me are stuck right at the bottom like old gum. so if your wits can’t save ya, all there is to do is punch back up.
-….do you mean that metaphorically, or….
-i was wondering when i’d have to dig these old things up again! …see, kid, all I’m trying to say is, when the world fights, you gotta learn to fight back.
-oh, shit. we’re not getting anywhere like this.
-*gasp* dipper!!
-what??
-you just said the ’s’ word!
-so? we’re practically teenagers, mabel. we can swear.
-i have friends back home who won’t even say ‘crap’! you must be getting it from somewhere
-i don’t know what you-
-[wendy enters] AYYYYYY DICKWEEDS WHAT’S FUCKIN HAPPENING
-ugh, sorry about all that, man. i don’t know why robbie’s always such an asshole to you.
-you don’t think he’s like…..jealous of me, do you?
-HA! ohhhhh my god. oh my god you’re probably right.
-what, does he think I’m gonna like, steal you away? like he’s INTIMIDATED by me? …that feels kinda good, actually.
-oh man, can you imagine? dipper pines, casanova extraordinaire! refined older women such as myself just….COLLAPSING at your feet!
-grunkle stan, um…. where are my parents?
-uhh……….. they died.
-oh…. how did they die?
-they………………died.
-you know when you’re wearing just the vest without a sweater you kinda look like……. someone. it’ll come to me
-mabel, what did you do to the journal????
-what? you told me to pretend it was my diary!
-i said to PRETEND it was your diary, not actually use it as a diary!! you didn’t mess with the stuff inside, did you?
[cut to: a shot of the interior of the journal, filled with stickers and cute little drawings and tiny diary entries about boys and the like]
-…….nnnnnnnope.
-if you’re going to be a monster hunter, you’ve got to have a look.
-hey, i’ve already got THAT covered
-no, i mean a look that tells people you mean business. like what i’ve got!
-what’s more businesslike than a leopard wearing sunglasses?
-i can think of a few things. what about like, a jacket? or…. a jacket? something besides a big fluffy sweater.
-listen dip, we’ve only known each other for a few days so i’ll let you off the hook this time. but first rule of mabel? the sweater STAYS.
-ugh, fine, but you’re gonna overheat. hey, what about this? it’s big enough to wear over a sweater. and it’s got pockets!
-but does it have PERSONALITY?
-you can decorate it or whatever i don’t care.
-mabel, have you seen my gel?
-nope. why do you gel your hair, anyway?
-i don’t want my bangs to cover my birthmark.
-can’t you just cut them off?
-it’s part of the look.
-ohhh, the 'look’.
-soooooo dipper had a crush on you, huh?
-haha, yuuuuuup. he thought he was being super smooth about it too. 100% convinced i had no idea. oh shit, dude, you wanna see this valentines card he made me when he was like, seven?
-you KNOW i do!
-boom! check it. all the blackmail you’ll ever need on one piece of construction paper.
-oh my gosshhhhhhhhh…..wait,  "love, ty"?
-oh yeah, ol’ dipstick used to go by 'tyrone’ before he was dipper. just between you and me, dipper suits him better. tyrone is too cool for him.
-why’d he switch?
-dunno, really. he used to hate his birthmark, people would make fun of him for it, yknow? and then one day he just started being super cool with it. he like, reinvented his entire image around the thing. you should’ve seen him before that though, always brushing his bangs down over his forehead… well, at least he puts some effort into his appearance now.
-FUCK!
-KID!
-oh no.
-where’d you learn language like that?
-i… uh….
–…..wasn’t from me, was it?
-n-no! it was from…. nobody! i mean, you hear stuff around, and-
-WAHAHA! this is great! now i don’t have to keep my mouth shut around ya! and it isn’t even my fault!
-mabel, take out the trash
-booooooo!
-…aren’t you going to do what he said?
-sure, just as soon as i finish kicking dipper’s butt!
-i will dance on your grave, mabel.
-but…he’s your uncle. you should listen to him before he gets mad, right?
-pff, what’s ol’ stan gonna do, throw his dentures at me? (don’t tempt me, kid) half the fun of being a kid is not doing what adults tell you to do! consequences be darned.
-…paz, really, stan loves us. he’s not gonna like, hit me or anything. yikes.
-dipper, seriously, what the heck happened between you and gideon!
-i told you, nothing! he’s just a creep.
-oh, is THAT why he won’t stop talking about you? even on our dates! it’s WEIRD. ….you two aren’t like, exes or-
-ew, no!
-haHA! you dated gideon! gideon and dip-per sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-
-we were FRIENDS, okay?? …sort of. i dunno. it was a long time ago.
-heyoooo my drama senses are tingling! now you HAVE to tell me! deets deets deets!
-uuugggghhhhhh fine
-dipper and gideon have been rivals since childhood, but back then it was on somewhat friendlier terms. they would get each other in trouble, start fights over nothing, ruin each other’s stuff, but they would always walk away with smiles on their faces, like an unspoken pact to annoy the shit out of each other forever. but things started to change after gideon found journal 2. dipper didn’t see him around with the other kids as often. his tactics got nastier. he started “winning” more often. things came to a head after stan started teaching dipper to box. one day when dipper and wendy were hanging out together, they ran into gideon, who took the opportunity to tease them mercilessly. when he started going after wendy, dipper socked him, hard, in the nose. “i dunno. i was really mad, but i think i also just wanted to prove i was strong. wendy was always protecting me, so i wanted to protect her back.” after that point, gideon declared them mortal enemies.
-stan and wendy were definitely elated at the fact that dipper punched gideon. stan probably tried to bake him a cake.
DOUBLE DIPPER
“BAM! look out party, this girl’s on a mission! and that mission is to find a summer getaway friend group. woah, huddling crowd of teenagers! that’s perfect!”
-paz is talking with everyone listening when mabel interrupts her. “heyo! guess who’s here, it’s mabel, and that’s me.” “…..that’s great, sweetheart.”
-mabel is really excited to make new friends at the party, but most everyone starts hanging around pacifica. mabel tries to make friends with pacifica but paz rejects her, saying “listen, youre new so i’ll fill you in. it might seem like people like you and are interested in you because youre 'quirky’ or whatever, but you’re just a cheap novelty. around here? i’m the one who matters. nobody ignores pacifica northwest. adoring fans?” paz snaps her fingers and the crowd begins to shove mabel out of the circle until she finally falls on the empty dance floor. defeated, mabel shuffles off to the only people not part of the crowd (candy and grenda) “you too, huh?” “don’t worry. when we burn, we burn together.” paz then steps up to the mic and points at them, shouting “hey everyone, check out this adorable new attraction! it’s the reject corner!”
“aww, we don’t need this. the true merit of a partymaster is knowing how to take the party with you. this calls for an impromptu sleepover!”
-mabel offers to cheer up her new friends by ditching the party and having a sleepover instead, candy remarks that they were planning a post-party sleepover together anyway, grenda says how she stole a raunchy romance novel from her mom- wolfman bare-chest. grenda shows off that the book has a full-color illustration of gerard, candy remarks how she wants one of her own, mabel remembers that they have an old copy machine downstairs.
-“i don’t understand. i’m having fun, but i still feel this burning desire to go back downstairs and make her suffer for her crimes. crimes against friendship and partying.” “hey, i know what’ll curb that thirst for vengeance! theft! look what i stole from my mom’s bedside table!” “grenda, you wild girl! this is perfect!” “and it comes with a full-color illustration! his pecs are holographic!” *all three girls scream* “aah!! he is so rugged and brooding, i want to take him home with me and make him my trophy husband!” “ooh, i think we have an old copy machine downstairs! that way we can all keep the poster! come on girls, let’s go make our dreams a reality!”
-the girls end up bringing gerard to life because fuck the laws of reality, he emerges and says “which of you fair maidens brought me into this realm?” candy points to mabel. “girls, i think the party is back on!”
-“hey, fursuit, i don’t know if anyone told you, but this isn’t a costume party. although that would explain YOUR outfit, mabel”, gerard gets angry and tries to defend her by attacking pacifica. pacifica gets a small scratch on her arm and shrieks “are those REAL claws?!” mabel and candy struggle with gerard and finally subdue him (after he loses an arm to the punch bowl) by stuffing him into a closet. “you can come out after you learn to stop being such a butt!!” candy makes some remark about “at least we didn’t make any more!” cut to grenda either using the copy machine or already surrounded by wolf men.
-after the gerard squad starts running wild at the party, mabel gets an idea. “grenda, they’ve already like, werewolf-bonded to you, right? so if you’re in danger, they’ll come and save you!” “..i know what i have to do. hey northwest, be mean to me!” “ok, ok, just… give me a minute. ….hey circus freak, you’ve got arms like a gorilla and a voice like a wrestler, so it’s no wonder that the only boys interested in you are a bunch of wolves!” “…..pacifica, that was really mean.” “YOU TOLD ME TO!!!”
-maybe have pacifica get on the mic again so all the wolves hear her insult
-“grenda I’m sorry you have the body of an amazonian goddess and a voice like ten angels singing one direction!!” “yeah, maybe if one direction were all chain smokers.”
-the girls use this plan to lure the wolfpack into the kitchen, where there’s a sprinkler system connected to the fire alarm. the plan is that once all of the wolves are present, mabel will signal for candy to pull the alarm. however, once mabel gives the signal, it’s revealed that candy has been captured. “i’m sorry, mabel…. their pecs were just so shiny!” “i’m sorry i dragged you into this, pacifica.” “yeah, i’m sorry you dragged me into this, too.” maybe have them cowering on top of the fridge. but just when it looks like all hope is lost, the sprinklers come on anyway. it’s revealed that the first gerard was the one who pulled it, sacrificing himself to save mabel’s life.
-“you will always be in my heart, mabel pines. and i hope…..that i will be in yours…..”
-“well, pacifica, maybe now that we’ve worked together as a team, we can come away from this knowing that our fighting was petty and pointless, having gained a mutual respect.” “are you SERIOUS? all this proves is that you’re a freak, and your friends are freaks, and even though I’m gonna make sure to stay as far away from your little circle of lost causes as possible, the next time we meet? you’re going DOWN, and I’m gonna make sure EVERYONE is watching.” “……welp! i didn’t gain anything from that! maybe next time.”
-“i’m sorry that all this happened, girls. if you don’t wanna hang out with me after this, i get it.” “are you kidding? that was incredible!” “i feel like my heart is on fire! but in a good way!”
-in the aftermath, the girls (sans pacifica) burn the book. as they watch the illustration of gerard smolder, mabel solemnly says “this ends once and for all.” “….my mom’s gonna want that book back.” “once. and. for all.”
IRRATIONAL TREASURE
-pacifica overhears what the twins are trying to do and tails them, then ends up getting captured along with them
-LET ME OUT OF HERE! I AM A NORTHWEST!
-i thought we just established that doesn’t count for anything anymore.
-pacifica yells at mabel for doing something as stupid as leaving a trail of candy wrappers, dipper interrupts to ask her why she always feels the need to shut people down like that. pacifica tells him that its her duty as a woman of status to let everyone know what their place is. “orrrrrr you just feel so threatened by the idea that you’re not as well-liked as you think you are that you need to make everyone else feel bad about themselves.” “WHAT was that?” “threatened?”
-mabel gets her nerve back and yells at pacifica that why would she ever want to be liked by a stuck-up shallow primadonna like her, and throws a hunk of peanut brittle at her, freeing trembly.
-after returning to town, the twins see pacifica being berated by her parents for disappearing and getting her clothes dirty. mabel feels sorry for her and goes over to explain that oh, it was actually my fault, i was trying to uncover dirt on the northwest family and pacifica stepped up to intervene, and we got into a fight. also we totally didnt find anything to shame the northwests so you can thank pacifica for that too. the northwests then threaten to sue the pines family for hurting their daughter, but paz holds them back, saying something about how it isnt worth it to waste time on poor people like mabel.
-this is the start of mabel and pacifica’s budding friendship, and pacifica’s redemption arc
SUMMERWEEN
-hey, little man!
-oh, hey wendy! ….and robbie.
-so….. chilling in the bushes without a costume on? what’s that about?
-nah, i’d say he’s got a pretty solid 'loser’ costume lined up already.
-i’m just hanging out with mabel and her friends, i guess. this big legendary monster thing says its gonna eat us unless we collect 500 pieces of candy but y'know. no worries.
-sick, dude. and you didn’t even have to go out and find this thing yourself? your sis must be like, a monster magnet.
-yeah, she…really is.
-well, i’d help you with the mission if i could, but i’ve got this whole 'aloof teenager’ thing to keep up, yknow? no trick-or-treating for these old bones. but I’ve got a few extra sweets in my purse if you need some more handouts! we can go find mabel, and-
-NO! i-i mean… no, don’t find her, its ok, i got it, give it to me.
-woah, chill out, you little freak! you’re not HIDING from her, are you? …is everything ok? and don’t say it is, because nobody sweats that much when everything’s ok. not even you.
-……i dunno, it’s like, i don’t mind having her around, but we’re always together and she wants us to do all these “twin” things now and I’m just not sure I’m ready for it yet.
-yeah, i getcha. its gotta be a lot to take in. hey, if you need somewhere to decompress after this whole candy deathmatch thing is over, tambry’s throwing a party at her house in a few. text me when you’re free?
-just try not to dork up the place if you show.
-robbie, if you don’t lay off I’m gonna punch you in the dick.
-i just….. twins are supposed to have this special bond, y'know? like a mind meld or something. and i just feel like i’ve missed so much. things could've….should’ve been different. and i came here because i wanted to make things the way they were supposed to be. i thought like, maybe if we were together we could pretend that its the way things always were and everything was ok. but i cant. its not.
-yeah, i… i’m sorry, mabel. everything just happened so fast, and i couldn’t handle it, and i avoided thinking about it, and….i ended up avoiding you, too. i’ve been kind of a crummy brother so far, huh?
-no, no, i get it…. i’m weird, and this is weird, and you’re one of those weird people who likes to be by yourself. and i understand if you don’t want to be siblings. but… can we at least be friends?
-i don’t see why we can’t be both.
TOURIST TRAPPED
-hey, mabel, i was wondering, uh…… how did our parents die?
-woah, what? they’re not dead! are they?? you’re freaking me out, dipper!
-'sup, hambone?
-oh, hey….. soos, right?
-you got it, lil’ dude! so, what’s eating you? besides the mosquitos anyway. nice, good one soos.
-soos, have you ever tried to do something that you thought would make everyone really happy, but instead it just blows up in your face and everything is awful and it’s all your fault?
-story of my life, dude. probably not on this scale though. just a minor everyday occurrence.
-they probably hate me, don’t they?
-what? no way! i just met you a few hours ago and i can already tell you’re like the least hateable dude I’ve ever met. you’re like if they found a way to combine a smiling puppy with an anime fairy princess.
-but i ruined everything!! that’s what they’ll call me in the history books. mabel, queen of ruining everything. everyone was fine until i got here.
-it’s not your fault, dude. mr. pines had to tell dipper at some point. and dude, if it makes you feel any better, i am PSYCHED to have you here. i was telling customers about it all day!
-thanks, soos, but…. i should probably just go home. maybe if I’m gone dipper and stan can just forget this ever happened and go back to normal.
-you kidding, dog? nothing’s ever normal around here. i know this is like, a huge bombshell, but dipper and stan love each other. they’ll work it out. …hey, my brain just came up with a totally neato idea! why don’t we pitch a tent and have a sleepover out here under the stars? we could swap stories, eat raw marshmallows, and if you still want to go home tomorrow morning you can.
-….only if you’ll try to throw the marshmallows into my mouth with your eyes closed.
-deal.
-hey, mom. yeah i got here ok! it’s great, the woods around here are so cool and mysterious! oh, and i met this really cute guy but he turned out to be a bunch of gnomes under a hoodie. i know!! wild, right!
-h-hey mabel….can i….talk to them?
-…oh, mom, dipper wants to talk to you. is that ok?
-….hi, mo- ..mrs pines. it’s dipper.
-“oh, you must be the friend mabel was talking about! she was so excited to meet you! i hope you two are having fun!”
-yeah, it's…. it’s good to have her here.
-“are you all right, dear? you’re sniffling.”
-yeah, i’ve just got a cold. it’s ok.
THE HAND THAT ROCKS THE MABEL
-mabel sees a commercial for the tent of telepathy on tv and gets excited, pulling dipper over to see the famous “psychic”. dipper is annoyed at best and just groans, expositing that he and gideon have been rivals since they were little. he says he’s been trying to catch gideon in the act of something, ANYTHING, for as long as he can remember, and now with the help of mabel’s journal he��s devised a new theory: that gideon might actually be a vampire! he’s always coated in lotion, has stark white hair, speaks like an old southern man, and it might also explain his psychic powers. but dipper isn’t allowed in the tent of telepathy anymore, and he hasn’t been able to get close to gideon in his personal life. mabel offers to go investigate in dipper’s place, but he warns her that it’s not worth it and gideon is a “creep”, offhandedly mentioning that mabel probably doesn’t have the investigative skills necessary to crack the case on her own. determined to prove herself, mabel goes anyway, in “disguise” as a journalist so she can ask gideon questions when the show is over. during the questioning gideon becomes enamored with her, and when mabel asks if he’s a vampire he flirts around the issue, suggesting that he is simply to win mabel over. it works, and she agrees to go on a date with him.
-mabel takes notes on gideon’s mannerisms in the journal while on dates
-over time, gideon begins to reveal his true colors, and mabel realizes that dating a supposed vampire doesn’t really make up for gideon’s behavior.
-actually i changed my mind about the vampire plot, probably dipper just tries to keep mabel away from gideon because of their checkered past together
BOYZ CRAZY
“….can i confess something?”
“yeah, of course.”
“I’ve never like….. LIKED anyone. I’ve dated plenty of guys, and even a couple girls, but i don’t think i felt what i was supposed to be feeling for any of them. i thought that eventually if i went out with enough people, i would start to like at least one of them, but…. i dunno. I’m starting to think that i’ll never fall in love. maybe i CANT fall in love.”
“well… that’s not the end of the world! love kinda. sucks. especially when someone doesn’t like you back.”
“ugh, that’s what I’ve been doing to all these people! for years! i suck. i keep trying to be like everyone else, but i just end up pushing people away. I’ve lost so many friends…”
“hey, it’s not your fault. robbie’s a turd, you know that.”
“yeah, i guess you’re right… i dunno, you ever feel like there’s something, like, fundamentally wrong with you? like something fucked up in the womb and now you can’t ever be a normal person?”
[dipper pulls up his shirt slightly, looking at his binder]
“yeah. i do”
DREAMSCAPERERS
bill: I WAS WONDERING WHEN I’D RUN INTO YOU! QUESTION MARK, SHOOTING STAR…. AND DIPPER OF COURSE!
mabel: whoa, hey, how come soos and i get special names, but not dipper? that’s not fair!
dipper: uh, mabel, that’s not really-
bill: THAT IS HIS SPECIAL NAME, KID! ALWAYS HAS BEEN. HE JUST ADOPTED IT A LITTLE EARLY IS ALL.
dipper: wait, what?. you…you were the one in my dreams? all this time, it was YOU?
-new scene-
dipper: it’s just… the name was a big part of my like, identity, yknow? i thought it was so cool and special and for the first time in my life i was starting to feel NOT like a freak. i thought i was being cool but i was just doing exactly what bill wanted! [pulls his jacket over his head] aaaargh, what have i been doing all this time?!
mabel: di- …..bro, listen to me. your whole like, supreme tough guy monster hunter thing? it’s PRETTY silly. but that’s what i like about it! it’s all you, and you own it! and nobody chose to make you like that but you! and you didnt choose the name dipper because bill told you to, right? that was still all you. so, i don’t know. even if the guy who made it up turned out to be kiiiiiiind of a major jerk i dont think that means all of that is ruined forever. and if you stop going by dipper i’m going to have to start going by shooting star as revenge. star for short!
dipper: ….i think i like you as mabel better.
mabel: aww no, i was already getting used to it! star sounds like the name of a princess, doesnt it? or a galactic warrior!
-BUT DON’T YOU WORRY YOUR GEL-COVERED LITTLE HEAD, KID! I WON’T BE BOTHERING YOU LIKE THAT AGAIN. YOU’VE PROVEN YOURSELF TO BE EXTREMELY DISAPPOINTING AND USELESS. CONGRATS.
SCARY-OKE
-in this case obviously dipper wouldn’t want the agents around, since stan has taught him better than that.
-dipper decides that he’s finally ready to talk to his birth parents over the phone, but when he does they insist that they never had twins and mabel has always been an only child, and he realizes they don’t know who he is. everything he knows is once again called into question.
-mabel tries to get the agents’ help in figuring out the mystery behind dipper’s birth and proving that the two of them are siblings
-maybe dipper raises the dead as a way to threaten stan? like, oh you’re so afraid of the supernatural, what if i do this
-or mabel tries to lure the agents back to the shack by creating a supernatural disaster, like oh, say, zombies
-stan finally admits, with zombies breaking down the door, that he got mixed up with the supernatural and made some very bad decisions, although he isn’t specific about what happened. he relinquishes that he kept the truth from dipper all these years not for his sake, but because he couldn’t bear to admit that he was responsible for separating dipper from the family he should’ve grown up with.
THE GOLF WAR
-mabel and pacifica run into each other at the mini golf course, and after watching mabel sink the winning shot pacifica realizes she has feelings for her. furious with herself for developing a crush on somebody like mabel, pacifica challenges her to a rematch and vows to destroy her.
-dipper and stan are worried about pacifica’s behavior, but mabel assures them that she probably just wants a little one-on-one game and had to disguise it as a fight to the death since her parents were with her.
-pacifica gets to the golf course early to get some extra practice in, discovers the lilliputtians, and decides to use them to win against mabel, convinced that if she proves to herself that she’s better then her crush will go away.
-mabel becomes concerned with pacifica’s attitude and worried that she’s gone back to her old ways, bribing somebody to help her cheat. eventually she’s captured and tied up, and pacifica has to save her.
-in the aftermath, pacifica can’t stomach apologizing, so mabel does it for her. “hold on, dip. i think i know what’s going on here.” “what? no. you definitely don’t. whatever you’re about to say about me is completely and totally wrong.” “so i just want to let you know, pacifica…. it’s ok. i understand.” “understand what there’s nothing to understand” “yes there is! and i’ve felt that way before, too. even about you sometimes.” “wh…..huh? you have?” “yeah! all that pressure to compete really gets to you sometimes. but just because i beat you at something it doesn’t mean that you’re any less cool than you were before., ok? so i don’t want you to feel like you have to prove that!” “oh. yeah. yeah, that. yeah.” [awkward pause] “soooo…. you don’t hate me?” “of course not!” “ok good. that’s like, good to know. i don’t hate you either.”
-theyre playing truth or dare and mabel dares dipper to hold candy’s hand for the rest of the night
-mabifica bullshit: 'let me see those beautiful eyes’, holding hands post-confession in nmm, arguing about whether or not to run off into the woods together at night
THE LOVE GOD
-during a conversation with wendy, dipper casually mentions that he’d like a girlfriend. mabel overhears and decides to try and pair him up with someone. she enlists the help of candy and grenda for this secret mission, but notices that candy seems uncomfortable with it. eventually she admits that she’s had a crush on dipper for a while, and mabel is ecstatic. she conspires to set them up on a date at the woodstick festival. candy makes mabel promise not to tell dipper, but of course she can’t keep her mouth shut and blurts it out while the two are having breakfast at the diner. mabel expects dipper to leap at the chance, but instead he just feels awkward. he tells mabel that although he likes candy and thinks she’s great, he’s never thought of her like that. mabel urges him to give her a chance, but dipper argues that it will end badly. he spots candy nearby, freaks out, and runs for cover. it’s at this point that mabel meets the love god.
NORTHWEST MANSION MYSTERY
-“….and grenda can take a hit pretty well so she’d be the best choice for a distraction while i spray 'em with the anointed water from behind, but we might need pacifica to-”
“actually, dip, i was gonna ask if i could handle this one on my own.”
“what? why? we don’t know how powerful this ghost is!”
“because i, the wonderful mabel pines, am going to confess my love for pacifica tonight!”
“you only realized you liked her two days ago!”
“exactly! no time to waste when romance is afoot!”
“you don’t even know if pacifica LIKES girls!”
“well i don’t know if she likes BOYS either. she always seemed kinda indifferent to-
"even if she does, what if she doesn’t like you back? and you know what her parents are like, they probably wouldn’t want her dating another girl anyway…”
“why do you always have to shoot me down like this”
“…..i’m sorry, mabel… i just don’t want you to get hurt again.”
-“we did it!” “haha, yes!!”
-(internally) “this is the perfect moment, mabel, just go for it!”
-“umm, pacifica? now that we just beat this big scary ghostman together, there’s something i wanted to-”
-“YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS, FOOLISH CHILD”
-“….on second thought, I’m gonna go exorcise screamsville here first.”
-“that’s probably a good idea”
-{“WITCH! SERVANT OF EVIL!”}
-“i’m sorry. i didn’t want you to know this about me.”
-“ok, so, your family’s gotten mixed up in some bad stuff, that doesn’t mean-”
-“no, it does. you’ve always been so nice to me, and i never did anything to deserve it… hanging out with you, and dipper, and everyone, hanging around the shack….i started to realize that this isn’t normal. my parents aren't……normal. and now I’m just so scared that no matter what i do, i’ll end up just like them.”
-“….pacifica. i know you. your outsides may be crusted over with gold coins and expensive body lotion and hairspray, but your insides are made of bubbles and kitten kisses and rainbow dolphins high-fiving each other. your parents are a couple of stinky poo-heads inside and out and you’re not anything like them.”
[pacifica, crying, kisses her]
-“oh no. this was a mistake. I’m leaving.”
-“pacifICA WAIT”
-“what would you say if i said i was in love with you?”
-“i’d say you only wanted me for my money”
-“oh pacifica, your heart is gold enough to last me a lifetime!”
-“shhhhhpsshh stop!!”
-[mabel kisses her on the cheek]
-“no but really stop i don’t want my parents to see”
-“ohhh yeah sorry”
THE LAST MABELCORN
-things start out much like they do in canon, but when mabel meets the unicorn and it tells her that she’s not pure of heart she jumps to the conclusion that bill has “tainted” her in some way by taking over her body. the abuse metaphors here are obvious. she sadly returns home and begs ford to help her in some way, and he takes her down to his study. meanwhile, dipper sets back out with the girls in mabel’s place.
-“…..but it wasn’t me….” “what?” “i…..i have to go.” “mabel, wait!”
have it so like, she’s not necessarily visibly distraught when she talks to ford, or even to her friends, but more determined to “fix” herself, hiding the worry that she’s a bad person beneath her insistence that it must be bill’s fault.
“GRUNKLE FORD! bill gunked up my soul and i need you to fix it so i can be pure of heart again!” “…mabel…” “please please please PLEEEAASE!”
-“no offense, but you break the law daily, you two have kind of a…. mutual violent streak, and you……” “don’t say anything.” “and if being involved with bill really did disqualify mabel, then I’ve been doomed for years.” “you’re also not a 'maiden.’” “good point.”
-“man, this is bullshit.” “i know. how are we gonna find someone more pure than mabel?” “no, i mean. the game’s rigged. nobody’s completely 'pure of heart’ or whatever, and how do you even measure that? that glitter-snorting poser doesn’t ever have to give up the goods because she’s asking for something that doesn’t exist.” “…so how do we get the hair?” “well, i say if princess unattainabelle back there doesn’t wanna play fair, we shouldn’t have to either. alright, kids, who’s ready to add a few more bad deeds to the naughty list?” “YEAH!”
-meanwhile, mabel’s mind begins to be encoded. “i can’t undo what’s already been done, mabel. but i can make it a lot harder for bill to hurt you again.”
-mabel’s thoughts: “do you a favor” “have craz and xyler ever kissed?” “adopt every kitten in the world” “PACIFICA PACIFICA PACIFICA”
-mabel ends up putting the helmet on ford because she starts to have intrusive thoughts worrying that he could be possessed by bill, and she decides that proving herself wrong would put them to rest. “ugh, shut UP, brain! this is why we don’t talk anymore.”
-when mabel reads his thoughts, she freaks out and, unlike dipper, actually succeeds in hitting ford with the memory gun. he’s knocked to the ground and she approaches him cautiously as he rises back to his feet. when he explains that he’s not bill and the gun didn’t work anyway, mabel starts crying and hugs him. “its ok, mabel. you did the right thing. when dealing with an enemy like bill, you can’t fully trust anyone, not even the people closest to you. …maybe if i’d known that when i was younger, we wouldn’t be in this mess now.”
-“….i’m a bad person.” “oh come on, you don’t still believe that unicorn, do you? i thought dipper told you she was full of it.” “no, i… did something really bad today. i thought bill did something to gunk up my heart but it was really just me all along.” “wow, what did you do?” “nn. you’d hate me if i told you.” “mabel, you could kill a dog in front of me and i wouldn’t hate you. and if you don’t tell me i’ll just assume the worst.” “i AM the worst.” “ohhhh my god. …..ok, let’s say that bill did break your soul for all eternity or whatever. so what? you’re still my girlfriend. and in case you haven’t noticed, i’m pretty messed up too.”
ROADSIDE ATTRACTION
-“aww, come on! think about it…. just us girls, alone under the stars…” “eww, fine! i’ll come if you stop being gross”
-“i can’t believe my own sister got a girlfriend before me!”
-“romance ain’t a contest, kid.”
-“…yeah, you’re probably r-”
-“just kidding its definitely a contest. one you’re losing.”
-“he was… flirting with me! i think he actually likes me back!”
-“AAAAAAAAA!!” “get it, girl!” “candy wins!” “i wouldn’t get your hopes up, chiu. he’s probably just being a tool.”
-“pacifica, how could you?” “why must you deny true love?” “hey, dipper’s my friend and i think he’s great, but he sucks. I’m just being realistic.”
-“oh, no. i think i just agreed to take candy out on a date.”
-“….aaaaand do you LIKE her?”
-“well, yeah…………….as a fr-”
-“UGGGGGHHHHHH I KNEW IT. listen, 'dopper’, you got yourself into this mess, and its not up to me to help get you out. you deserve it for toying with a woman’s feelings, anyway.”
“candy…. saved my life. even after i broke her heart. she’s so cool…………………………………oh, SHIT.”
-“it’s ok, dipper. if dating pacifica has taught me anything, its that the way to a woman’s heart is through emotional angst and near-death experiences. and we get those every day!”
-“you deserve this and i have no sympathy for you.”
DIPPER AND MABEL VS THE FUTURE
same basic setup, with mabel hitting up all her friends for party plans, but the focus is on having to return home without all the friends she’s made rather than anxiety about growing up (although that’s still a factor). in addition to discovering candy and grenda won’t be around, she also finds that pacifica’s parents are becoming suspicious of her frequent outings so she’s trying to lay low for a little while, so she won’t be able to hang out for the last week of summer.
ford invites dip along for the alien hunt, and doesn’t exactly offer dipper the chance to be his apprentice, but is impressed with his adventuring skills and the fact that dipper has been training in the art of mystery solving for years. au dipper is quite a bit braver than canon dipper after all, and quicker to spring into action right after ford. theres still a bit of hesitation involved, and when ford praises him for his courage, he laughs and remarks that mabel would’ve jumped right away without any thought. ford then confides in dipper that although mabel uses her heart before her head, he can still see how scared she is inside and thinks it would be best for mabel to return home and cease connection with gravity falls, because he’s seen first-hand how much bill has hurt her already and he doesn’t want it to get any worse. he also tells dipper that he can tell mabel’s heart isn’t in any kind of study or quest for knowledge like he is, she’s just a kid having fun, and he can tell that its mostly because she wants to impress dipper and it might be better for her to focus her energy on her own interests, which can’t happen if she stays in gravity falls. dipper reluctantly agrees, saying that he’s always sort of worried about the same thing. of course, this is the part that mabel hears over the walkie-talkie.
for all that mabel and ford’s relationship is better, he still sees her as a child while he sees dipper as more of an equal. he warns dipper that letting mabel become dependent on him, or he on her, is a bad idea, because one day they’re going to have to go their separate ways, and mabel might not be able to handle it (implying that she’ll do something drastic to keep him around, like stan did to him).
theres a scene midway through the episode of pacifica sulking on her bed, hugging a pillow to her face. her mother’s voice calls her for dinner from downstairs, and she groans and gets up. looking in the mirror, she realizes her mascara has run and she scoffs and rubs at her eyes. when she opens them up again, the mirror is full of eyes. “something wrong, blondie?” it cuts off there
after mabel runs away into the woods at the end of the episode, pacifica emerges from the bushes in her full incognito gear, saying she came to warn her about bill. that bill tried to make a deal with her but she refused everything he offered, and that he’s getting desperate and is going to try again with someone else, probably before the summer ends. she tells mabel that if neither of their families want them, they’ll run away, out of gravity falls, together. when mabel realizes she has the rift, she groans, annoyed that she has to go back home and return it. but pacifica insists that this actually makes the plan better, that if they leave gravity falls with the rift it can be kept safer… and that, maybe it would be better if pacifica held onto it, since bill is targeting mabel. mabel agrees and hands it over…. at which point pacifica takes a moment to admire it, and then smashes it to the ground. she laughs, takes off her sunglasses, and is revealed to have been possessed by bill. then the world ends.
WEIRDMAGEDDON 1
-after ford is captured, dipper runs into grenda, as in literally runs into her, while she’s attempting to chase a monster in process of carrying off candy. the two travel together for the next three days, finally deciding to explore the mall in search of mabel and the others. on the way there, though, the two are ambushed by bill’s lackeys. before the fight can begin, grenda tosses dipper out of harm’s way and shouts for him to go on without her while she holds off the monsters. dipper reluctantly escapes, leaving grenda to an ambiguous fate.
-during that time, candy finds pacifica huddled in a pile of rubble, and urges her to come help find the others, but she’s reluctant. “look, mabel’s not here anymore, alright?! she’s gone. bill got her. so you can stop pretending to like me.” “candy does not pretend. not when it comes to friendship.” “….if you just left me here, nobody would have to know.” “on your feet, northwest.”
“augh, my poor hair… it’s got like, twigs and shit in it.” “do you want me to cut it off?” “what? no. why would i do that.” “it’s a symbol! in stories, girls cut off their long hair when they are going on journeys and breaking free, leaving the past behind… it is cool and majestic and– pacifica, YOU should cut off MY hair!” “wait, seriously? …ok, whatever, fine, do your weird impulsive nerd thing. you got any like, scissors?” “let me see….. six, seven, eight pairs! i also have a knife.” “candy, what the fuck.”
-dipper finds wendy, pacifica, and candy all hiding together in the mall. dipper is surprised and relieved to find that candy is safe and she talks about how she bit the monster’s hand to get it to free her, proudly revealing that one of her teeth has turned completely red as a result. dipper admits what happened to grenda, and while pacifica and wendy look worried, candy remains adamant that she’s strong and will be all right. hesitantly, dipper asks if any of them have seen mabel. the room goes quiet, and pacifica confesses what happened, that bill came to her and threatened to possess and torture mabel again if she didn’t let him use her body. she thought that if she agreed, she’d become a ghost like mabel did and be able to use a puppet as a vessel in time to warn somebody. instead she simply blacked out, and when she came to she was just in time to see mabel being sealed in a bubble and taken away.
-at some point pacifica confesses to dipper that bill never threatened to hurt mabel. she made the deal willingly because he promised her that mabel would be able to stay in gravity falls if she let him borrow her body, and she was just so scared of losing her, and everyone.
-candy’s arm is broken in the car chase and ensuing wreck against gideon’s crew. in the aftermath, pacifica uses the remains of her jacket to make a sling.
ESCAPE FROM REALITY
mabeland is nearly the same as in canon, though maybe with some minor alterations to reflect the events of the summer. dippy fresh is replaced by a series of “dream dippers”, versions of dipper that mabel had imagined he might be like before actually meeting him. most are unrealistically cool, but one in particular is just someone who would be the ideal brother, always looking out for her and wanting to be with her. in the end of course, mabel has to look at all of this and decide that real dipper is the one she wants. (theres also a fake pacifica who shares all of mabel’s interests and is hopelessly in love with her, always flirting and offering romantic gestures, but without any of the sass and personality that make her who she is. pacifica ends up snapping her neck.)
mabel introduces the dream dippers one by one like they’re contestants on a game show, but one spot is left empty. dipper asks who it’s for, to which mabel nervously replies that it’s more convenient to have something extra just in case. later on, in the wilderness of mabeland, dipper overhears mabel talking to someone. “i don’t understand. everyone can finally be happy here. wendy can break all the rules she wants and never get in trouble, candy can be herself without people making fun of her, pacifica can get away from her parents, and dipper…. well maybe i can understand why HE wants to leave, since he apparently doesn’t want to deal with me….” suddenly, dipper hears his own voice reassuring her that everything will be alright, and he’ll stay by her side forever, that the summer never has to end. she says “do you really mean that?” to which he replies “of course. you know i’m the best brother ever.” the voice is revealed to be perfect, ideal brother dipper.
crushed by this, dipper retreats to the pond, where instead of being approached by wendy he’s approached by candy. she sits down and asks him what’s wrong, and he tells her how awful he feels that he couldn’t have done better for mabel. she assures him that he’s a wonderful person, and mabel’s being silly for not wanting someone like him as a brother. she then tells him that she was being silly for being mad at him, too, that she’s realized he was right all along, and she should’ve forgiven him earlier. “really? …'cause i was totally with you on the whole 'i was a jerk’ thing.” then candy ups the ante, going on to talk about how oh, he’s so much smarter and braver than her, and she was just upset because she thought she stood a chance with him, but she’s such a loser, she could never- dipper stops her there, worried. he continues to insist that it was his fault, he WAS being an asshole, and he should’ve apologized to her a long time ago, but he was nervous “because…. i DO like you, candy. like, like-like you.” he tells her to stop berating herself, that he likes her because she doesn’t let anybody change how weird she is and that she’s not acting like…. herself. it’s at that moment that he realizes what’s going on. as “candy�� begins dissolving into bugs, a fist collides with her head and she explodes. its revealed to be grenda, who managed to find her way in because “the door was unlocked.”
when it comes to the trial, mabel’s memories are similarly flipped through, but instead of having a twin to be there in her time of need, she had nobody. she’s never had anybody like that until she met dipper.
TAKE BACK THE FALLS
-candy and grenda’s symbol is a disco ball. “…and this one could mean a person who can see the fun in any situation! or just a party animal.” “hey, that’s me!” “that’s me too!” “it’s both of us!! SYMBOL SISTERS!!!” [grenda lifts candy up onto her shoulders and they each take a hand, candy on her right side since her left arm is broken and grenda on the left]
-“we’re proud of you, daughter. saving the world will be perfect for salvaging our reputation! i still think those pines kids are a bit of a bad influence on you, though.”
-“oh YEAH? how’s THIS for a bad influence?!” [she pulls mabel into a passionate kiss] “news flash, dad! your perfect daughter’s a big fat gross lesbian! and when i grow up I’m gonna marry this riffraff right here, and change my name to pines too!! so DEAL WITH IT!!!”
stan still loses his memory as he did in canon, but dipper is the most visibly distraught and won’t stop begging him to remember. he tells him how even though they fought a lot over that summer, he loves him so much and he’d never ask for a better grunkle. he desperately tries to jog his memory with baby pictures, but they need to trigger more immediate memories first.
the solution for mabel to stay in gravity falls would be to fabricate a lie that dipper is ford’s grandson, ford being the twin that faked his own death to escape a life on the run, but they’ve just come back to reconnect with the family (since dipper lost his parents apparently), and mabel didn’t want to tell her parents at first because she was afraid they wouldn’t want her staying with an estranged family member/ex-con. but she’s made so many great friends and she loves this town and wants to stay with her “cousin”.
while the northwests go house hunting, mabel invites pacifica to stay at the shack until they can find a new home.
rather than leaving for a new adventure, ford and stan decide to stay at the shack and rest for a while, just settle into their new family dynamic. soos, melody, and abuelita all still move in, and so the house is renovated to make room for the huge family.
with the journals destroyed, the mystery squad now has to start from square one…. but dipper tells mabel that she doesn’t have to do anything to impress him anymore. that he’s ready to try just being a kid again.
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