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x--daughters-of-darkness--x · 3 years ago

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Outlanders: How Jinjer survived a revolution and built their own world

Jinjer’s resilient spirit was forged in the civil war that erupted their native Ukraine in 2014. As the groove metal quartet prepare to unleash their fourth and most complex album to date, singer Tatiana Shmayluk relives the turmoil that shaped them. Cue: one of modern music’s most remarkable tales of survival, resistance and sheer determination…

It was when the first fighter jet flew overhead that Tatiana Shmayluk realised she had to run.

For the past few months, the mood in Ukraine had been growing increasingly tense. As a former USSR state, in spring 2014 the country had only had independence from Russia since 1991. Many citizens had wanted then-President Viktor Yanukovych to sign an agreement aligning the country closer with the European Union in November 2013. Plenty of others wanted to stay close to Russia. Protests began across the country. Then violence. Then Yanukovych was ousted from office in February 2014. Then more violence.

“There was a revolution,” says Tatiana. “There were huge riots in the main square of Kiev. In the end, our president, his ass was kicked out and he left the country. That was crazy. And then everything turned into chaos. And that’s when people really started hating each other.”

That April, following a highly suspect vote on whether to stay or go which resulted in a widely disputed declaration of autonomy for the region around Tatiana’s home-city of Donetsk in the east of the country, on the border with Russia, armed conflict commenced, involving Russian troops, tanks and air power. So began what Tatiana calls “a civil war – Ukrainians attacking Ukrainians”, with those loyal to their former Soviet masters on one side, and those wanting to break free, and have independence and closer ties with the EU on the other.

You may remember news footage of protesters banging dustbin lids at lines of soldiers and riot police. The politics of the situation are obviously layered and complex, but the simple version is: imagine a turbo version of Brexit that actually tore the country in two and resulted in one region declaring an independence that’s somewhat disputed by most of the world that isn’t Russia. And with a lot more violence. And a conflict that’s still piling up bodies now.

Tatiana was having a barbecue when she realised what was about to happen. “We were at a picnic, not far away from my building where I lived,” she says today from her flat in the Ukrainian capital, Kiev. “We were just chilling on the grass, eating food and stuff. And we heard this loud sound in the sky – we looked up and saw a jet. And that was that. We just grabbed our stuff and ran home, and we started figuring out how to leave before it was too late.”

Had Tatiana and her friends – including other members of her band, Jinjer – waited much longer than they did, their passage to Lviv some 1,300 kilometres to the west, where bassist Eugene Abdukhanov and his wife were already living, might have been much more hazardous. Even as they “packed all our shit into a van” and made a break for it, the country was starting to change shape around them.

“Already there were borders built being built around our region,” she says. “And I remember when we were crossing it, we were met by a guy, a soldier with a weapon. And then we heard [machine gun fire] somewhere very close to us.”

As she describes this, Tatiana makes an almost amusing machine gun noise, but she is painfully aware that even seven years on, the situation remains a serious one. “There’s no way out for this problem,” she says, “No solution. And that’s really, really sad.” If one needed an example of the lasting effects here, her parents have remained behind in what she calls, with almost mundane succinctness, “the war zone”.

“There’s an actual border between Ukraine and the former parts of the country, and it’s all blocked. And due to the pandemic, they have no chance to cross borders,” she explains. “They cannot receive money from the government, their pensions. I always tell my mom, ‘Hey, mom, just try once to do this, make really big effort and cross this border, even [if you have to go] through Russia. Just come here and stay here. I can help you in any way possible.’ But she is old school. And when you have been living on this earth for over 60 years, it’s really hard to change your way of living.”

But that’s what Tatiana and Jinjer have had to do. And growing from such trying circumstances has only made them more rigid in their resolve. Because literally having to run for your life will have an effect on a person. “Growing balls, maintaining your balls,” is how she puts it.

“Of course, it makes you stronger,” she says. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”

Today, Tatiana has lived in Kiev for more than five years. As Jinjer’s singer, she is one of the rising stars of European metal, and made her living visiting countries as far-flung as Argentina, Australia and Japan to play her band’s music. Next week, the band release their fourth album, Wallflowers, a furious, razor-sharp work of metal that will delight fans of Cradle Of Filth and Conjurer alike, and will add nicely to streams that, in total, already sit at over 100 million.

Though she says that she’s only been recognised around town a handful of times, and that she probably gets noticed more for the tattoos that cover her arms and neck (“Old women who were born in the Soviet Union really reject people with tattoos,” she says. “They look at you like you’re a prisoner, or a prostitute…”) than for her music, at 34 life for Tatiana is very different to what she knew growing up. As a kid in the early ’90s, after the collapse of the USSR, her family were, she says, “average”, but there were clues that the Shmayluk family were not one of society’s ‘haves’.

“I remember that we couldn’t afford meat,” she recalls. “After the Cold War ended we got a lot of American food, like veggie burgers. It looked like oatmeal with brown [fake] chicken that you make into patties, and then you fry them. You eat them as kind of meat, but it’s not. It’s just some shit, like some very plastic stuff. I realised how poor we were. And I was crying, ‘Mom, I just want some meat. I don’t want to eat this.’”

Elsewhere, though, Tatiana remembers her childhood as being “great”, a time she looks back on with fondness. “We didn’t have internet and stuff, so we just played outside all day long. And school was awesome.” The food imports post-Cold War might not have been the most brilliant thing she had ever seen, but the new order also brought with it more western culture. MTV introduced six-year-old Tatiana to hip-hop (“I’d practice dancing like MC Hammer”), but via going through her brother’s room and raiding his tape collection – often bootlegs – she also got turned on to Nirvana, Metallica and The Offspring.

“We had this family tradition that every evening we had supper together around the same table,” she remembers. “When I discovered The Offspring, I put Smash on my huge headphones. I was sitting in a chair, eating, and I wasn’t talking to anyone from my family, just listening to music. And then when I finished, I just sat back and just enjoyed the music, doing nothing.”

Her ability to both lose and find herself in music turned into doing something more significant at high school when, after years spent doodling herself playing guitar in a band with other girls in a sketchbook, Tatiana performed her first gig as part of a talent contest, doing covers of songs by Limp Bizkit and German metallers Guano Apes (“No-one voted for us,” she laughs). Her first gig as an audience member, meanwhile, came a few years later, when Soulfly played in Kiev. Despite the fact she didn’t actually get to see Max Cavalera and his band onstage, it was an experience in itself.

“I traveled from Donetsk to Kiev, like, 700 – 800 kilometres,” she says. “My parents were very protective, they didn’t want me going anywhere on road trips or anything, and they didn’t give me any money to spend. I only got to watch maybe 30 minutes of the show, because my boyfriend got drunk and started a fight with someone. Security grabbed him and threw him out of the club. It was quite a shitty day!”

In 2010, aged 23, having completed language studies at university, and working briefly at a dating agency, Tatiana joined Jinjer. Two years later, they self-released their debut EP, Inhale, Don’t Breathe. A year after that, they played outside Ukraine for the first time, in neighbouring Romania. “That gave us a push to move forward, because we really liked it,” she says. “And although we didn’t bring any money back – we didn’t earn anything – we realised that we want to do this, and we’re going to overcome any obstacle that is waiting for us.”

Eight months later, this would be put to the test by fleeing the war. Having moved to Lviv, Jinjer – Tatiana, Eugene, guitarist Roman Ibramkhalilov and then-drummer Yevhen Mantulin – then all moved into what the singer describes as “a summer house” just outside the city. Soon, the band became a full-time concern. They still had nothing, but it was a more fun nothing.

“We were all just hoping for the best, touring just with money that we had, earning nothing, like one euro,” she says. “Sometimes we didn’t have anything to eat, basically, because we were broke, because everyone had just quit their jobs. We just had some coins to buy a beer. That was intense. But I remember those years only with a warm heart. That was fun. That was a really huge challenge for just people who had never done that before, but we happened to overcome all this shit because we stayed together.”

But as touring became a more regular thing and things for Jinjer seemed to be on the up and up, the band once again found themselves faced with bad luck that most will, mercifully, never know. On tour in 2014, they had a long drive to Russia for the next run of shows. Stopping at a friend’s house in Kiev for the night, Tatiana took a taxi back to her own place, leaving everyone else to continue partying and drinking. At 4am, she got a phone call about Yevhen.

“They said, ‘You have to come here because he’s broken his spine,’” she recalls. “He fell out of the window. Everyone [had gone] to sleep, and he stayed there in the kitchen, sitting on the window frame, smoking. And then he fell asleep, and fell from the third floor. They heard someone screaming in the middle of the night, but they didn’t realise – they thought that it was maybe a dog or something. And then someone checked the kitchen and he was not there. Then they looked down and saw him just lying there.”

By some miracle, he survived, though he no longer has use of his legs. Tatiana says she and his bandmates were “in shock for many years”, and that, “I remember we were all around him, toured with him, just hanging out, and then he’s just like… bam.” But even this incident, which left him in a wheelchair and unable to return to the band, is talked about in the same spirited, fighty way that Tatiana talks about every challenge.

“He seems very positive,” she says. “He’s doing music and he tours around Russia with a band. It’s kind of a hip-hop band, and he plays guitar. He’s still doing tours, so that’s awesome.”

Should you ask Tatiana to describe to you the Ukrainian national character, she’ll tell you that they are “stubborn”, and that as a whole they feel “we have nothing to lose”. She’ll also tell you that, “Ukrainians are very passionate people. Not like Italians [are passionate], for example, or Spanish people. We are passionate with a straight face, you know, not smiling – more like Russians.” When it comes to danger, meanwhile, she says that “we take risks easily”.

Surprisingly, despite the above description matching the impression you get of Tatiana from her story, she doesn’t think of herself as “a typical Ukrainian”. She does, though, nod in confirmation when asked if she sees playing music as a form of resistance. Before any of the bigger events and challenges, this spirited defiance started with becoming a musician at all, at home.

“The first time I resisted something that really prevented me from doing what I love was my parents,” she says. “Mostly my mom, who didn’t want to see me as a musician. In Ukraine, it’s kind of a big thing. If you’re a musician, it’s not respected. From 17 to 23, I was protesting [her], silently. I didn’t, like, yell at her; I didn’t fight with her. I just said, ‘Yeah, yeah,’ and I did my own thing. That’s when it started, and it’s still going this way.”

An example: on Wallflowers, there’s a song, Disclosure, in which Tatiana vents about treatment at the hands of certain media outlets in her homeland. Even being used to internet haters, giving the band shit for everything from daring to escape a warzone, to daring to have a female member, to daring to become successful, the experience left her boiling.

“Earlier this year, in March, me and Eugene went to some studio to do an interview with a Ukrainian guy who is a YouTuber, and he used to work on Ukrainian TV channels,” she says. “So there was a tense atmosphere, and very angry vibrations between us. And he was so manipulative. We had differences in our political views and stuff, and he didn’t want to accept that. So he really wanted to show us in a very bad, bad way. I was pissed off for three days after that, and wrote the song about it.”

As people with a profile, do you think you’re a target for that sort of thing?

“We absolutely are targets for those people, for haters,” Tatiana says. “They hate us for different reasons: for me being a woman, you know. And people think that we pay for [success], like with our money – some of them think that we are hugely rich. My mom is a bookkeeper! My dad worked in coal mining, he was a worker, just working class. But no-one cares. They always find something to blame us for. But at least they don’t do us any harm. Only with words and comments. It’s distant. They’re poison, but it goes nowhere.”

Tatiana Shmayluk is a self-evidently tough woman. She’s also extremely nice. Equally, she’s extremely modest. When she talks about her life’s trials and triumphs, survival and successes, she does so in a manner that almost shrugs these things off, that possibly anyone could do them. Possibly, if pushed by the sight of a war literally kicking off while you have a barbecue, we could. But it’s still surprising that, for someone with more real things to get angry about than most, she describes what she’s putting into Wallflower as simply “my whining and insecurities”.

“Every album, I find something to be angry about,” she says. “It’s pessimistic, but it’s nothing to do with the pandemic. The pandemic gave me some time to just sit and think about, different stuff that I’ve been going through. And we have to agree that the whole world isn’t getting any better – I put myself into this kind of state of mind that, ‘Okay, it’s almost the end of the world.’ Maybe the next album will be more optimistic and more positive. Maybe…”

Pessimism or not, none of it makes her story of prevailing against the things she has any less stirring. Never mind the fact that the band she fronts come from a country most tours don’t even stop at. She’s – rightfully – proud of Jinjer’s success, and the work ethic it’s taken to get them where they are, but she’s almost at pains to share the glory with her bandmates. And in part, it’s this that’s carried Jinjer through all this the most. It’s this, she says, that’s helped her both survive, and to thrive.

“I would never do this myself. I wouldn’t be able to work on so many obstacles just by myself,” Tatiana admits. “And if I had some type of my own personal career, just a single singer, I wouldn’t even start doing that. I really need those guys. And the guys, I hope they need me. That’s just how it works: all together. Even having nothing in our pockets and empty stomachs, we could work.

“It just depends on how big your dream is.”

#tatiana shmaylyuk #jinjer #2021 interviews

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100yearoldcomics · 3 years ago

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February 19, 1922 The Katzenjammer Kids by Harold Knerr

TOP PANEL [ID: The Kids ride on a homemade tandem bicycle with no pedals. Instead, powering the bike, a cat is tied to the frame underneath Hans while, behind it, Rosie the bulldog is tied under Fritz. As the chase ensues, the bike rides. /end] Fritz: Sic 'um, Rosie! Attaboy!

MAIN COMIC [ID: Hans ties chair caster wheels to the legs of Rosie the bulldog puppy. Fritz watches, removing the wheels from a chair. /end] Fritz: Do dey make castor oil out uf der casters from chairs? Hans: Sure! In der desert uf Sahara vare dey make der hair oil!

[ID: In their nightshirts, the Kids lead Rosie on her wheels into a fancy ball being thrown in the living room. /end] Hans: Now ve go bye-bye to der ball, Rosie! Fritz: Ask her for der foist dance!

[ID: The Kids walk up to Mama and Der Captain, dancing on the polished dance floor while a big band plays. /end] Captain: Vot der...? Mama: Didn't I said you should go to bed? Vot?

[ID: The Kids run back to their room, clutching their backsides in pain. Der Captain kicks Rosie out the door with them, but Rosie hits the doorframe with his face instead. The rest of the party attendants look on, bewildered. /end] Captain: ...und stay ouid, or it gifs more! Mama: Say foist der prayers und den sleep or I gif anodder spanker!

[ID: Fritz uses a key to wind up a toy train while Hans ties the train to Rosie's collar. /end] Fritz: Chust vun minute conwersation mit der old geezer! Eh? Ain't dot vot you vant, Rosie? Hans: Ve fix it for you, baby! Ve iss der boss fixers!

[ID: The train, carting Rosie, speeds over to Der Captain. The Kids watch mischievously from behind a curtained doorway. /end] Mama: I chust told der cook to hurry mit der eats! Guest: I'm famished! Captain: VOT? Again vunce?

[ID: Der Captain carries Rosie by the string tied to her collar, lifting her off the ground. He walks to a nearby open window. /end] Captain: Now, foist I gif you in der slats a kick und den plop! Ouid uf der vindow you go! Maybe you like to call again! Vot?

[ID: Rosie falls out of the window, landing headfirst. The Kids run out to catch her. /end] Captain: Next time, it gifs a brick on der coco! Hans: Poor 'iddle doggie! Didn't you haf a chance? Fritz: Ve chust got to arrange a interview!

[ID: In the kitchen, the chef calls out that the turkey is ready. The Kids lift the lid on the serving dish to deposit Rosie in with the turkey. /end] Fritz: Sh-h-h! Chef: Adolph! Take vunce up der toikey for supper right avay, qvick now!

[ID: Adolph serves the dish to a table full of dinner guests. /end] Captain: M-m-m-m! Mit my eyes shut, I could see roast toikey mit crumberry sauce, dod-bust it! Adolph: Supper iss ge-soived! Guest #2: I'm just starved! Mama: I hope der stuffing got galic mit!

[ID: Der Captain lifts the lid of the serving dish and comes face-to-face with an angry Rosie. The rest of the guests react in shock and horror. /end] Guest #3: Vot a life! Vot a fambly!

[ID: Mama talks on the telephone while a tattered & torn Captain marches out the door with angry purpose, a club in his hand. /end] Mama: Gran'ma says dey iss ofer by her house in dere nighties! Und I said dey should nefer go ouid mitout pants! Captain: I go right ofer! Vot I got to do iss better mitout pants!

#newspaper comics #vintage #history #1922 #the katzenjammer kids #transcript available #1920s #harold knerr #tw: child abuse

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theawkwardterrier · 4 years ago

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to seek a newer world

Steggy Week 2k20, day 6 Prompt: Headcanons and fave moments

Summary: Lateness becomes a bit of a theme through the years.

AO3 link here. Thanks to @steggyfanevents for organizing!

Steve was still on the couch reading by dim lamplight when Peggy came down at 12:29 a.m. She walked over, yawning, and curled into his side.

“Cutting it quite close again, isn’t she?” she asked into his T-shirt. He chuckled, put in his bookmark, and turned to kiss her head.

“I’m just waiting up. She still has another minute,” he pointed out. They silently counted it down together.

“And now she doesn’t,” Steve sighed. “She’s late. Officially. Again.”

“They both are. I peeked in on Will before I came down and he had pillows all lumped up beneath the duvet.”

Steve groaned softly. “And he’s already supposed to be grounded, too. Plus I’ll probably find that window screen torn up on the lawn in the morning.”

“What on earth made us think we were qualified to handle twins, I certainly don’t know.”

“Knowing how much personality got split between our two, I think even one might have been too much.”

She yawned again, shuts her eyes as she leaned into him. She actually had the weekend off, not even an emergency summit on the horizon, and had counted on it meaning at least one good night’s sleep. “Well, I do hope they’re enjoying themselves considering the chores they’ll be taking on in exchange for this. Washing the supper dishes for the next month, at least.”

“They already wash the dishes,” Steve reminded her, pulling her closer. He leaned his face into her hair. “And help with the yard, and make honor roll. They really are good kids, when it comes down to it.”

“I know that, and I certainly wouldn’t exchange them, especially considering some of the alternatives. I only wish that they would try to overcome the predisposition to lateness which you passed down.”

“Me? Sounds more like your genetics at work.”

“I think you’ll find that I have a reputation for punctuality,” she replied, “while you come up rather short in that department.”

A pair of headlights moved across the living room curtains, not stopping. Busy took the car tonight, but if her brother sneaked out, she would drop him off around the corner, let him jump the neighbors’ fences and slink through the back door, or try climbing up the house back into his window. (Sometimes Steve cursed what he passed on to them. Not often, though. Neither of them had ever had so much as a cold.)

"Maybe the lateness comes from both of us," Steve suggested, gesturing at their wedding picture on the side table. "We’ve certainly had our moments."

"Hmm," she said, though he suspected that was more tiredness than agreement.

In the silence, the brief creak of the upstairs window was especially pronounced, as was the curse Will gave when he fell through it. Apparently he’d made it back in decent condition.

"Pillows under the blanket, huh?" Steve laughed softly. "They really do think we’re idiots.” And he got up to have a talk about punctuality and punishment with his son.

Steve adjusted his shoulders against the headboard, licking a finger absently as he turned a page. The story was easy to get pulled back into quickly, which was good because—

“And the looks I get during meetings are absolutely unbelievable.” Peggy slammed her own book back into her lap, or what was left of it. “An emergency summit about China, and every eye pointed at my middle as if they’d never seen one before.”

To be fair, her middle was fairly spectacular these days, but if they couldn’t stay focused, out of politeness if not duty… “Assholes,” he agreed. “Turn over.”

She did unquestioningly, putting her book on the nightstand and allowing him to start in pressing the tension from her back. He knew well how to do it, as he should after months, after years.

“He’s late,” she growled into the pillow after a moment. “I can’t believe he’s so late.”

“The doctor said that first kids can be like that. A little reluctant to come out. Taking a little extra time to…” Steve paused. “Cook,” he finished after an awkward moment.

She sighed. “I know, and I certainly wouldn’t want an uncooked child. It’s still bloody inconsiderate of him to be so delayed. Making my back ache like this all day, and in the absolute depth of summer, too.”

“You think it’s a boy?” He smiled, despite the aggravation in her voice. They had the bassinet all ready, and dozens of outfits so miniature that sometimes he would simply unfold them, hold them in his palm, and stare in wonder.

“No daughter of mine would be so rude, I should hope.” She moaned as he hit a particularly good spot, lifting her face to the bit of breeze coming through the open window. Perhaps the rain which had been threatening might really come at last.

“Maybe she’s just being strategic, like her mother.”

“I’ll have to teach whoever they are better than that.” She sighed. “Strategy indeed. Not even out in the world and already biting the hand that—Oh!”

He sat up abruptly, book sliding to the floor beside him.

“Was that—?”

“Yes.” She touched carefully at the mattress beneath them. “Yes, I suppose it’s time.”

The bag for the hospital was right beside the bed. It swung from Steve’s hand as he patted his pockets a bit frantically to make sure he had his keys.

“Steve.”

He looked over. Peggy had put her feet carefully over the side of the bed, waiting for him to help her with her shoes. The look on her face was unfamiliar.

“Steve,” she said again. “What if I’m not ready?”

He wasn’t certain that he was ready either - they were so small, babies, and he didn’t exactly have experience - but he smiled for her.

“Then it’s a good thing this one seems to like to take it slow and give us plenty of time. We’ll be able to catch up.”

“Of course,” she said, then, determined, “Of course. We’ll catch up.”

“I’m fairly certain,” Peggy said, breathing hard, “that it will be quite humiliating when we get out of here,” but she pressed herself closer to him.

Steve suggested idly, “So maybe we just shouldn’t leave,” but even saying it, he knew it was impossible - and maybe not desirable either. “Not that I want to miss our own wedding,” he added hastily. He felt the silk of her dress under his fingers, thought about watching it spin as they had their first dance, about having a picture from today at home, hearing people comment on it - maybe even their kids one day... “I actually really want to be married to you.”

“More than you want this?” she asked cheekily, hands still beneath his suit jacket.

“I’ve heard a rumor,” he said, bending squarely toward her, “that we still get to do this after we’re married.”

“In closets?” she breathed, reaching close right back. “Closets are essential.”

“Wherever you want...”

And then his mouth was on hers, and he forgot where they were, what he’d been saying, had been thinking, until he felt her engagement ring pressed to his cheek. He pulled away, took her hand, kissed the knuckles. “Come on,” he said. “I have another ring to go with this one.”

She opened the door with practiced stealth, peering into the corridor of the community hall. They had only planned to spend last night apart, but between an operation gone wrong, Dernier getting lost in the city, and Howard’s persistent offers of “one last hurrah!” for each of them, it had been nearly a week since they’d last seen each other. It was no wonder that, when they’d each happened to come collect their thoughts in the back hallway, one thing had led to another.

Luckily, no one seemed to be around. Or perhaps less than luckily: some members of their wedding party were meant to be observant, with world saving responsibilities, and they hadn’t exactly been well-hidden.

“We’re late,” Peggy whispered as they left the broom closet behind. (Steve caught a mop by the handle and propped it back against the wall before shutting the door.) “We’re very late.”

“I know. We’ll probably hear about it in every toast.”

“And for the next ten years besides.” She stopped just before the set of doors which would bring them back into the foyer. She looked into his face, so easily familiar even in the dim light. “But I wouldn’t exchange it. We are who we are, and I quite like who we are.”

He looked back, so entirely thankful that he would have the chance to do that for the rest of their lives. “I do too,” he said. “Even if it means giving Jarvis a heart attack by ruining all of his planning.”

Peggy scoffed. “Ruining it? Simply a delay, darling. Which poor Jarvis might have counted into his plans anyway.” And she pushed open the doors, ready to get on with the next part, and all they’d get after.

“They’re late,” Steve said exasperatedly, though it was fairly obvious by now: their information had the handoff taking place at midnight, and it was already half past. He shifted in his seat - Peggy’s sedan wasn’t exactly tops for leg room, and they’d already been in place an hour.

“Well.” Peggy was clearly biting back a yawn. It’d been a full week of late nights, with this meant to be the last for a while; one more takedown, the final piece, and she’d have the next few days to rest. “Possibilities?”

“Our intel was wrong,” he started off.

She nodded. “Or they changed the particulars.”

“Could be tomorrow, or in an hour, or going on somewhere else while we sit here. It could have already happened.” The thought was too depressing to consider for long, the mood in the car already deflating and the two of them having eaten their emergency car snacks while following a tip-off earlier that week without a chance to replace them. Steve added, slightly hopelessly, “Maybe they got held up somewhere. Traffic?”

“Bridge club ran long, perhaps?”

“Let’s hope not. If these guys are able to sit around the same table playing bridge, they won’t need to handle incriminating material out in the open.”

She laughed, trying to give a gentle stretch as she did.

“Come here,” he offered hesitantly. “I can—” After a moment, she leaned back so he could knead careful fingers into her neck and shoulders.

"If they did play bridge together," Peggy said after a brief quiet, "I'd wager the best bottle in Howard's cellar that Dumont cheats." She gave a deep sound from the back of her throat; he pressed carefully on the same spot again.

"Wouldn't take that bet, but I'd guess Crenshaw probably cheats worse. He's the type - would steal from his own grandmother."

"He gets on quite well with his grandmother, actually. Flowers every birthday. His mother, on the other hand…"

Steve grinned. "Have I ever told you that you're very good at what you do?"

"You have, but it's certainly something I can hear more than once."

He brushed his fingers against the back of her neck. “You’re very good at what you do.”

“Not as good as I could be, apparently. Not tonight.”

“Hey, it’s not—” Steve started, hands bracketing her shoulders, but before he could continue, headlights flashed across the windscreen in front of them. The attached car turned into the alley they’d been watching. A second set of lights appeared at the opposite end. This late at night, the slam of the car doors was audible even where Steve and Peggy sat.

“Sorry we’re late,” one of the men muttered. “Traffic was worse than expected.”

“Got caught in the same,” someone said back.

“How inconsiderate not to have considered that in advance,” Peggy said, checking her pistol before she moved to open the door.

“You can tell them off once they’re in lockup,” Steve told her. “Pretty sure they’ll be timely after this.”

Expecting the plumber, Peggy opened the door still facing toward her overflowing sink.

“Excellent.” She glanced at the visitor for just an instant. “It’s right this—”

She turned back, sink forgotten. Steve Rogers stood on her doorstep.

“I’m late,” he said. “I know. I’m sorry.”

He had flowers in his hands. He looked...older, both more and less comfortable in his skin.

“You could never be too late,” she said. The words brought something pained to his eyes. She reached for his hand. “Do you know anything about unclogging drains?”

“Not a thing.”

“I suppose we’ll learn, then. There’s time.”

#steggyweek20 #Steggy #Steggy fic #Steve Rogers #Peggy Carter

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bobdylanrevisited · 3 years ago

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Empire Burlesque

Released: 10 June 1985

Rating: 6/10

Poor Bob, he’s now 44 years old with a voice getting more nasal by the second. Once the trailblazer of a generation, he now finds himself falling behind the times. Music was changing in the 1980s, album production and the popular sound had become more electronic and Bob was finding it hard to stick to his roots. This is very much an MTV Dylan album, he tries to fit in with the times and unfortunately it’s an out of character mess. This is not a good record and it doesn’t suit Bob at all, save for one incredible track that elevates the score from a 4 to a 6.

1. Tight Connection To My Heart (Has Anyone Seen My Love?) - Originally a much better outtake from ‘Infidels’ entitled ‘Someone’s Got A Hold Of My Heart’, the opening track is a good summary of what kind of album this will be. Cheesy synth music, lots of backing singers, and a Bob Dylan impersonator mumbling simple and boring lyrics. Though Bob did manage to reinvent this track as a sweet love song during his 1993 NYC Supper Club residency, here the song just sounds dated. It almost sounds like someone making an 80s parody song, and to make matters worse, this is one of the better songs on the album. Make sure you also watch the accompanying music video, that features Bob doing a terrible synchronised dance, that is both hilarious and utterly shit.

2. Seeing The Real You At Last - This track sounds more like an intro song to a budget 80s detective show, but at least it’s kind of fun to listen to.

3. I’ll Remember You - A slower ballad which I surprisingly don’t mind. The lyrics are simple, as is the music, but Bob sounds pretty good on this one.

4. Clean Cut Kid - This is a very weird song, it’s very upbeat and has some nice harmonica, but again it feels like a montage you’d hear in a cheesy film. As usual, the backing singers are irritating and unnecessary.

5. Never Gonna Be The Same Again - A very boring and uninspired track, with an annoying drum beat.

6. Trust Yourself - Again, forgettable and bland. This just sounds like an average 80s pop tune, not a track by the worlds best songwriter.

7. Emotionally Yours - The second ballad, and certainly not as good as track 3, but Bob’s voice still suits this style more than the synthy pop numbers. However, this love song still seems hollow and horrendously overproduced.

8. When The Night Comes Falling From The Sky - Another song that sounds like it should be on a soundtrack, this time it’s a futuristic sound that is punctuated by heavy drums and guitar solos. Whilst this is one of the better songs on the record and is enjoyably a bit darker than some of the sappy, meaningless love songs, the original recording is far superior. It can be heard on The Bootleg Series Vol. 1-3, and is more stripped back and actually sounds like a Bob Dylan track. Once you hear that version, you’ll have a hard time returning to the album recording, as the production is so in your face, it does become a little unbearable.

9. Something’s Burning, Baby - I’ve heard this album many times, I’ve just listened to it again for this review, and I honestly cannot remember this song… I think that tells you everything you need to know.

10. Dark Eyes - Dylan ends the album with an absolute gem. No fancy production, just a harmonica and his guitar. It’s a beautifully sung song, which was inspired by Bob seeing a prostitute walking through a hotel, according to his autobiography. It proves that the old Bob is very much still alive and he hasn’t lost a shred of his songwriting genius, just that all the songs proceeding this are a victim of the zeitgeist. This is really the only song you need to hear on this record, it’s fantastic and certainly one of his best tracks to come out of this tumultuous decade.

Verdict: So it’s certainly not great, and the final track does a lot of heavy lifting for the album score, but there are some decent Dylan moments to be had, they’re just few and far between. Ultimately, this is a forgettable album that might be best staying mostly forgotten. Unfortunately, the curse of the 1980s is about to get far worse, as our hero really starts to lose his way and would make even the most hardcore fan question if his talent had permanently dried up.

#empire burlesque #bob dylan

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elizabeth-234 · 4 years ago

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A Night She Won’t Soon Forget

Previous Chapter Five: A Day She Receives Some News

Hi all. Hope you are doing well. Here is the next chapter, Enjoy!

Chapter Six: A Day He Begins to Move

“You can stop here, Harold.”

His driver looked toward the walkway. His eyes scanned over the decrepit buildings, taking in the address which was at least five blocks away from where he was scheduled to drop off his employer. Harold raised his eyes to the mirror so he could gaze at the man sitting hunched over in the back.

“Are you sure, sir? I can drop you off at the regular location.” 

“I want to walk the rest of the way. Drop me off here.” Tony motioned to the open spot between parked vehicles and nodded at his driver’s kind sentiment. “And get back to your family. It’s Christmas time or so I hear.” 

Harold sighed but did as requested after relaying a genuine thanks. Tony supposed by now that the man was used to his eccentricities. He knew Harold wouldn’t put up too much of argument no matter how long lasting his sighs were. Sure enough, Harold pulled the car over and Tony stepped out onto the sidewalk before leaning through the front window Harold had undoubtedly rolled down to give some last remark on getting home at a decent hour.

Before the man could speak Tony nodded to the seat he had occupied moments ago. “There’s an envelope with your bonus in the back. Treat your family to something nice this holiday.”

Harold tipped his hat and with a wavering voice Tony pretended not to hear thanked him for the gift.

“Happy holidays, Sir.”

Tony patted the edge of the window twice and stepped back from the car. Harold waved before driving off. The last of the car’s lights disappeared around the corner in a puff of smog. Tony grabbed the flask out of the pocket sown into the inside of his coat. The liquid burned his throat on its descent and quickly spread its warming effects in his belly and limbs. He pulled his coat tight around his body in order to stop the rest of the heat from escaping on his walk back home.

The brisk winter air around sought its way into his bones despite his precautions but Tony continued at a leisurely pace. Wind whipped around his frame carrying more than ice into his bones. Tony could feel his memories sweeping out of the dark recesses of his mind. He couldn’t tell if it was the wind, so similar to that night about a year ago or just the festivities decorated around him. There were sparks of light in the windows peeking out from a curtain. The scent of gingerbread and pine infused into the breeze. It was enough to make him shudder against the onslaught of childhood memories and one particular vision of the frozen lake in his upstate home.

Tony shook his head and tried to focus on other thoughts. The previous year he spent working. The business was waiting like a reliable friend back in the city for him and his paperwork spent the rest of the holidays as companions. That and the drink remained another old friend. His desk was bowing under the weight of all those friendships by the end of the previous year and when Mrs. Vern arrived back at the house, bringing with her a blessing of fresh meals, Tony could have kissed her bright cheeks.

He remembered stumbling down to the kitchen to find, for the first time in took long, his cook finishing up supper. Not one to take much stock in station and maybe noticing the dark circles under his eyes, the woman ordered Tony to chop vegetables. He couldn’t help the pleased smile that came across his face at Mrs. Vern’s stubborn reluctance to accept his compliments. After another, more exaggerated sated groan she finally subsided and pinched his cheek before taking his empty plate. His bed dipped under his weight and he slept at peace for the first time that holiday.

The coming days saw the house opening again as the season ended. Staff arrived back leaving little room for errant thoughts and wayward breezes. Pepper gifted him a sensible present of carved, wooden pens. They sat, gleaming in the firelight on the corner of his desk close enough to reach out and touch. He caught up with Rhodey over dinner, reminisced and laughed until his sides were sore. And when business caught his friends’ attention again, Obadiah was there at the club with an open bottle and listening ear. Confined in the walls of the club and bottle he created his own oblivion. He found the events of the cottage faded into nothing more than an unpleasant dream by the time the new year arrived.

Now, a year later the holidays were back much to his chagrin. He decided to stay in the city this year though it had nothing to do with last year, Tony assured himself. They were having a guest at Stark House. An interloper.

Like most things in his life, it began as one of Pepper’s ideas. But this time it went too far. Her response was to throw the words back in his face. “This is a direct retaliation to what the press is printing about you, Tony.” She said, also adding she held no interest in whether what the press was saying was true or not. It wasn’t her business, she claimed. Though Tony noted her hands fisted at her sides.

Pepper relayed the plan with a casual indifference that left Tony itching to yell he would give her the business and everything along with it if she wanted. He was tempted to tell her everything and promise to never take a drink again, but instead he stayed silent. He’d listened as she explained they were inviting, fostering was her exact word, a child for the holidays and ‘maybe longer’ she added with a mysterious smile. The child was to come as soon as possible after the paperwork was filed.

Tony’s job started the moment the orphan showed up. He was to be waiting with open arms and a smile, and from there on out the kid was to be showered with gifts. They were to go on outings always making sure the press, and therefore the public, would see how generous he was. The throne they so foolishly tried to cast off of his head would be cemented and at the end, mission succeeded or not, the kid would be sent back. Tony’s life could go back to the way it had been, Pepper promised. He sighed running a hand through his hair.

How was that fair to either of them?

The first surprise will be Pepper’s, he thought. There was not a single bone in his body that wanted to be home tomorrow. He certainly wasn’t going to be there when the child was brought back to Stark House. His stomach had been in a constant state of turmoil since Pepper informed him of the plan, one he didn’t think would be cured by the presence of said child.

No, it was for the best. Obadiah heard the tail end of their conversation and with a parting look of thinly concealed disgust from Pepper they were left to their own devices. He poured them drinks under his friend’s concentrated eyes. Tony felt them as he often did with his friend. Their warm constancy was a balm compared to the acquaintances he was surrounded with for business. Obadiah’s been a family friend since he can remember. His presence has always lingered on the pages of his life.

His friend leaned back in his seat, hands resting in a casual manner on the armrests of their seats before he spoke.

“I suppose I should offer you congratulations.” Obadiah tipped his glass up before draining it with a flick of his wrist. Tony hoisted himself out of the seat and went to refill the glass leaving a quirk of his eye as indication for the other man to continue. “I hear you’re going to be a father. How sweet and so in line with the holiday season, too.”

The man smiled into his glass when Tony scowled at him from his seat. Tony shifted, crossing his legs before moving to sit against the back of the seat. His eyes focused on his fingers playing with the leather divots on the armrests. Of course, he heard. Obadiah had a knack for being in the right place at the right time; always knew the relevant information. It never failed to lodge itself under his skin when they were younger and his father would tell Obadiah something before him. Not a twitch or grimace betrayed him today. Tony had long learned to accept his friend’s charming persuasion and on occasion be thankful for it. The bastard’s smile had gotten him out of enough trouble over the years.

He frowned at the pointed comment. The addition of a child, one he neither wanted nor accepted, would pair disastrously with his life. It would be best, he thought staring at the bald head of his friend, if they spent as much time at the club as possible. This way the child could have run of the estate and he would be preoccupied elsewhere. He laughed off Obadiah’s teasing and the afternoon faded into a blur of alcohol and gossip.

A burst of wind brought his wandering thoughts to a head. Tony turned the corner and sped up his walk at the sight of the townhouse. The change in wind left the clouds scattering across the dark mass of sky away from the now naked moon. He stopped to catch his breath. His hands clutched and twisted the lapels of his coat without thinking, pulling them away from his throat in a poor attempt to relieve the strange pressure building in his chest. An image of a smooth, icy pond entered his mind sending a spiral of tingling in his fingers and toes he’s certain had nothing to do with the cold. Wobbly legs carry him forward as fast as possible in a sad attempt to get to the door quickly. Weight compressed, weighed against his chest. Tony couldn’t breathe. His vision swarmed. Sidewalks became a sheet of ice and he was almost lost in the despair until his hand grasped onto the door knob.

Tony closed it behind him with haste locking out the cold and everything along with it. Friday hadn’t made it to the door yet and he was grateful to have a moment to compose himself. He tried to even his breathing and unclenched his hands but the pressure in his chest, the almost manic expression remained in his eyes for hours to come.

Tony managed to straighten his coat and scarf when Friday arrived up the stairs.

“Good Evening, Sir. May I take your coat?” 

Friday ignored the silence and stepped forward, taking his coat and outer things in hand. Tony stuffed his hands into his pockets to warm them, not because they were trembling. He clapped Friday on the shoulder before heading to the stairs. It wasn’t until he arrived at the first step, Tony turned around. Friday was hanging up and brushing down his outerwear with the precision and snap of his wrist well practiced.

“Friday,” He cleared his throat. “Thank you again, for staying the holidays. I know you normally go stay with your sister.”

“Anything to help, Sir.” He said with a nod. It was said in such a way Tony wasn’t sure if he was just talking about the extra hours. Friday smiled at his obvious discomfort and wished him goodnight. With a pivot around Tony made his way to his office.

Once situated in the leather chair by the fireplace, drink in hand, Tony withered. His back drooped and his eyes freed from observation, expressed their full state of anxiety. Who cared if he poured himself another drink? Who cared if his eyes, unfocused and hazy one moment focused too sharply and tunneled the next? He was safe in his office, this chair. Safe from the vicious rumors and lingering gazes. Safe from his always far too kind staff and their pitying expressions. Ensconced under the light of the fire, all he had to worry about was himself.

Friday knew him. Brought on before Tony was a child, since his mother married into the Stark name, Friday knew him possibly better than anyone. He’d watched and raised Tony, instilled in him kindness and goodness. So, it he knew what Tony had become, how far he had fallen. Tony scraped his hand along his face.

As the night wore on he sank deeper into the chair. His thoughts spiraled around themselves, circuses and snarls take over before he knows it. His cheek stung with a phantom memory. Tony stumbled to the fireplace, wrenching himself out of the chair and hurling his glass into the flames. The amber liquid sputters in the fire and drips off the glass pieces before smoking. Starved for a full, satisfying breath, he leaned against the mantel. An errant, curious thought about the child who would be staying with him for the foreseeable future.

A headache bloomed and ripened startling fast at the onset of fierce knocking. Unlike her usual knocks, Pepper was pounding at his door with no appearance of mercy being granted. Tony groaned at the newly christened sun of the day and pushed himself from his desk.

“I’m coming.” He said loud enough for her to hear and smoothed his hair back where it had fallen in sleep. With a grin, no it was not forced, he opened the door. “I’ve had many pleasant awakenings, Ms. Potts. This would not be counted among them.” Her scowl was diluted by a pretty blush at his words which made her scowl that much more at him.

“I don’t have time for your maturity, or lack thereof today. You did get the letter I sent right? I left it on your,” She rummaged around a pile of papers until, with a click of her tongue, she held up the unopened letter, “Desk.”

Pepper shook her head. “Never mind. I don’t have time to be annoyed.” She looked him up and down, focusing on the wrinkles on his shirt. “You don’t look the best but it will have to do. Let’s go.”

Tony stayed frozen where he opened the door. Unbeknownst to him the schedule for the day lay forgotten at the corner of his desk under the newspaper.

“Go where?”

“We’re going to Midtown Orphanage today, remember? Pick up your charge for the holidays.”

At a young age, one of the first things he noticed about Pepper was she lacked the ability to be still. He watched as she grabbed an emergency tie out of one of his drawers and threw it at him remembering the way she would run about the garden even under their parents disapproving gaze. How hours later they would enter the dining room for dinner with creased clothing and muddy shoes, smiling for days no matter the pointed comments they were thrown at the end of.

Tony hung the tie to the back of the chair and stands there regarding her – he thought the word friend but it feels lacking somehow - while she cleans up after him. He can’t remember a time where she wasn’t moving, wasn’t pushing herself to do better; be better. When they were kids she would goad him out of his moods and into the garden, older and wilder they would explore their estates free from duty for a few more years, and when Tony was sent off to college, Pepper worked that much harder at Russel Sage.

There was never a time where she hasn’t had some touch in his life. Disapproving though Pepper is much of the time she has never stopped believing in him and that was why Tony had begun planning.

“Look, I’ve decided I’m not going with you.”

She stopped moving and looked at him, eyes drawn together with a frown lacing her face. There was disappointment in those eyes, an expression he’d seen all too much recently and Tony swallowed back an apology. This was for the best.

“Tony…” 

“I’m not going today. I’ll go along for the rest of it but today this person, kid, deserves to have a nice holiday. They won’t be able to do that with me hanging about like a grumpy old… well, like my father.”

Pepper tensed her shoulders.

“Tony, you’re never in the way. You need to come.”

He waited until her shoulders fell then he walked to his desk, taking his pocketbook out.

“I appreciate what you’re doing for the company and in extension, for me. I Just want you both to have a nice day. Here’s some money, go buy the kid something nice. Whatever you want.”

“This is ridiculous, Tony. You said you would be there.”

“It doesn’t count if you used that look you have. The one where you scrunch up your nose.”

Despite the pit growing in his stomach he laughed unbothered at the way she crossed her arms in front of her.

“That pout right there. It normally works wonders and I would be persuaded to sell my right arm but I am, unfortunately, firm in my position.”

Pepper ignored him and stuffed the money into her purse after grabbing her coat. She walked to the door, only looking back when she’d crossed the threshold.

“And don’t forget you have meetings early tomorrow, I wouldn’t want you drinking so much you were unavailable. Again.” 

Pepper’s heels click against the floor as she stormed out punctuated by the slam of his door. Tony winced. There are papers she had thrown down in random order on his desk. Thankful for once she didn’t read through them, Tony sat down again and got to work. The time had come to reward her ambition, her dreams. He was vastly aware of his own limitations and shortcomings, in most respects, but this was something he could do for her. With the business on shaky ground because of his latest stunt at the club, it was the perfect time to begin.

They would both be busy today.

Russell Sage is a real women's college in New York that started in 1916, which is crazy to think about it being so recent.

Hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you think! Our two characters will meet soon, never fear.

Thank you!

#Penny Parker #Peter is female #Female Peter parker #irondad #spiderson #AU #marvel AU #orphan Peter #Tony has a heart #pepper potts #spiderman fanfic #peter parker fanfic #no powers #angst #a night she won't soon forget

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heatherjeff · 4 years ago

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2020 Book List

It has been ages since I have written and, like everyone else, there seems to be a bit more unstructured time in my everyday life. It makes perfect sense the impetus for a return to blogging is books, reading is fundamental!

My friend, KDaddy, annually shares the list of books he’s read. The first time I noticed his list I was thrilled, took notes, commented on how happy I was, and proceeded to read many of his recommendations. When it became clear 2020 was going to be a little different books became an even bigger part of my days as well as an escape from the grind of the news and the pandemic.

When KDaddy tagged me with his book list this year, it occurred to me I have a little platform where I can post my own year in review. Books are the best and reading has served me well my whole life, 2020 was no exception.

First, a few facts. This year I read 35 books, for comparison I read 24 in 2019. That makes me happy especially since there are not a million things about 2020 to invoke a sense of accomplishment. I have long kept a book journal since my title and author memory is similar to a sieve. At the start of the pandemic everyone in my house was gifted a kindle, I was not a fan of the plan, paper books are my love language. As this time has worn on, the kindle has proven to be a brilliant and magical purchase. Libby is a completely modern wonder and the next time I am in NYC I will, for sure, treat myself to a library card from that library system.

With no further ado let’s talk books.

Definitely Read:

The Nightingale: A Novel by Kristin Hannah

Two sisters reacted to the unfolding atrocities of WWII in very different ways. Both were fierce, suffered in ways unimaginable to most of us, and illustrated the many ways women are impacted by a war. Such a powerful read.

The Home for Unwanted Girls by Joanna Goodman

Great read based on a true story about a teenager who became pregnant. Her family forced her to give up her baby and it was placed in a mental institution for the sole reason the child was an “orphan”. Many more plot twists follow, this was a gem of a book.

Women in Sunlight: A Novel by Frances Mayes

This book kicked off as total cliche and morphed into complete life goals. Three older women, all single for a variety of reasons, strike up a friendship and move to a Tuscan Villa. I want to be them someday in Italy living with the locals.

The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind by William Kamkwamba and Bryan Mealer

YA This came highly recommended from my youngest. It opened his eyes to the world in a huge way and he was very committed to sharing this story with all of us. William is a complete force of nature and against (truly) all odds changes the trajectory or his family, his village, and his life with ingenuity and desire. Love this book so much.

Little Fire’s Everywhere: A Novel by Celeste Ng

Heard so much about this book and completely loved it all. So. Many. Plot. Twists.

Dear Martin by Nic Stone

YA read from my kid, a MUST read. This book was chilling on a 1,000 different levels. Race, police profiling, education, culture- Nic Stone packed it all in and it opened my heart and sparked some good conversations in our home.

Girl, Woman, Other: A Novel by Bernardine Evaristo

This thoughtfully constructed book was a gift from another reader friend and is one of my favorite reads of the year. It shares multiple first person layered viewpoints from British women who span every part of society. Great read.

Dutch House by Ann Patchett

Let’s be clear, I love Ann Patchett. Love. Whenever she authors a new novel I am jazzed and the Dutch House is no exception. The house becomes an actual character in the story and has everything to do with the brokenness of family who moves into it.

Shoe Dog: A Memoir by the Creator of Nike by Phil Knight

Unpopular opinion, I am not a fan of Nike. I am a tremendous fan of Phil Knight’s innovation and hustle. Phil is a visionary and expert storyteller.

The Tatowist of Auschwitz: A Novel by Heather Morris

The novel is based on interviews with Lale Sokolov, a Slovakian Jew who used his position of relative privilege to positively impact the lives of as many fellow prisoners as possible. I had to read this book fast since it impacted my sleep, which it should. Incredible read.

American Dirt: A Novel by Jeanine Cummins

Ooofff, this book is hard to read. I started and stopped because I could not sleep and opted to read it during daylight hours only. It is seriously terrifying in a million ways. It is about a family who has to flee from Alcopulcio to the United States due to extreme violence from the local and very well connected drug cartel. This book is a testament to the grit of illegal immigrants and an eye opening read about the terror they face.

Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption by Bryan Stevenson

True story of Bryan Stevenson’s quest to navigate the criminal justice system in the rural south where he aims to help the most disadvantaged in the system. Timely, eye opening, and full of action items we all need to help with for the betterment of our society.

City of Girls: A Novel by Elizabeth Gilbert

Books by Elizabeth Gilbert are some of my favorites and I was concerned when I started this book, it was a struggle. It came together and I ended up loving it. A story about NYC in the 1940’s centered around a girl/woman who is sent to live with her aunt at her playhouse full of showgirls. It was such an unrelatable read, it transported me to a time I have never really considered and it was a trip worth taking.

Totally Enjoyable:

True Colors by Kristen Hannah

Reads like YA fiction and I loved it. It’s about a ranch family, their horses, land, siblings, their live father and deceased mother. It is not deep and is a fun read.

In a Dark, Dark Wood by Ruth Ware

This book was intense, fun, & slightly scary. A “hen party” in a, literal glass house, becomes the scene of a murder.

The Queen of Hearts by Kimmery Martin

This is a fun read about two best friends who become doctors together and then the plot thickens. Can’t say more, it is complicated.

Freud’s Mistress by Karen Mack

This was my last library loan before the pandemic. It is a fascinating read based loosely on the dynamics of Freud’s family, drugs, affairs that feel a bit like incest, a huge male ego, this should not sound familiar in any way!

The Sun is Also a Star by Nicola Yoon

YA, loaner from my kid (which came to my nightstand highly recommended). This is a sweet, sweet love story of two teenagers who have very different backgrounds and lots of big feelings. The whole book takes place over the course of one day.

It All Comes Back to You by Beth Duke

This was a surprise hit and it sucked me in. The story is about a nurse in a retirement community who befriends a resident who lived a big life.

The Queen’s Fortune: A Novel of Desiree, Napoleon, and the Dynasty That Outlasted the Empire by Allison Pataki

I admit, I am a fan of royalty, it is so intriguing and this book was completely spellbinding. The story is based on Napoleon's France and it was messy.

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot

NF This book is amazing. A poor black woman has cancer cells removed from her body, these rapidly reproducing cells become known as HeLa cells and change the trajectory of modern medicine. There are so many consequences from this seemiling small discovery and the impact to the medical world and to Henrietta’s family are far reaching.

The Woman in the Window: A Novel by A.J. Finn

Read this in one day at the beach, I was sucked into this story of Anna Fox and her salacious neighborhood drama.

The Last Romantics by Tara Conklin

I know I liked this book and made a note about the “pause” taken over the summer when the kids in the family basically ran wild. That’s all I’ve got.

Untamed by Glennon Doyle

There was a ton of hype around this book and it is well deserved. Glennon tells it like it is and, like it or not, she has a lot of points that hit. I read this on my kindle and think I would have liked reading the physical book more.

This is the Story of a Happy Marriage by Ann Patchett

Short stories from Ann Patchett? Yes, 100% yes. The story of her relationship with Lucy, of Truth and Beauty: A Friendship, was wonderful as was the explanation of her book store in Nashville.

After You: A Novel (Me Before You Trilogy) by Jojo Moyes

I have zero idea that Me Before You was a trilogy! It is a total candy read, you are not going to learn much about your soul or the universe, but it is fun and better than TV. And yes, I will read the third book in the trilogy because candy is good!

The Saturday Night Supper Club by Carla Laureano

Also a trilogy, another happy surprise. This book is fun, another candy read, and so appealing. When I was a kid I wanted to have a restaurant so this story made my heart happy. It is a bit too clean, a bit cliche, and an enjoyable read.

Daisy Jones & The Six: A Novel by Taylor Jenkins Reid

This novel will transport you to a land of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. I read this was loosely based on the story of Fleetwood Mac, true or false, this book captures a moment in history and reads a lot like a play and is completely enjoyable.

Everything I Never Told You by Celeste Ng

This is the book written before Little Fires Everywhere, similar deal- family strife/mystery, kind of riveting with lots of twists. Solid read.

Maybe You Should Talk to Someone: A Therapist, HER Therapist, and Our Lives Revealed by Lori Gottlieb

NF, look at a therapist who finds herself in need of therapy. It is kind of a russian doll type of read with layers, upon layers, hidden within each other.

With the Fire on High by Elizabeth Acevedo

YA, another loaner from my kid. Such a great book about a kid who wants to be a chef and express herself through her cooking. She is a teen mother living with her abuela, it is a heartwarming book and I love the main character’s spirit.

Sidenote: schools around here are closed for the duration yet students can reserve library books and go to the local library of your choice where their school librarians greet them, warmly, in the parking lot for a drive by pick-up. It is a wonderful and much appreciated service being offered to our kids.

Nine Perfect Strangers by Liane Moriarty

This book is ridiculous, it had a strong start, went sideways but was fun and overall enjoyable. The premise is nine people descend upon an exclusive health retreat. The woman who is in change morphs from motivating to overlord, obviously.

No Thank You:

13 Reasons Why by Jay Asher

YA read, loaner from my daughter. I did not like this one bit, it made sucide seem so glam. Glad I read it and am always happy when my kids share books with me and I will always hate stories of kids’ suffering.

There There: A Novel by Tommy Orange

This book was hard to follow, had too many characters, and there was a very dark thread that I did not enjoy.

The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood

This book hit me at the wrong time this year. The dystopian nature felt a little too close to home. I know it is a work for the ages but it was all ouch.

Wow, that felt good to reflect on and process. I have never really looked for threads in my own reading and knew a few things already but like seeing the balance of candy books and hard, timely topics. All in all I feel great about my 2020 reading list and hope there are titles that interest or resonate with you too. Here is to libraries reopening someday in the near future so we can browse the shelves with abandon.

#bybye2020 #don't call it a comeback #maybe a comeback

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theonceandfuturequeenoftarts · 10 months ago

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WIP Game

Rules: In a new post, post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Thanks @valkyrie-chemist for leaving the open invitation!

So, uh, I have *counts* seventy-six WIPs at some level of worked-on in my fanfic folder (whyyyyy). Here are twenty-five of the tomarry/harrymort ones.

Ten of the partly posted ones (Ao3 title in parentheses):

Ace ABO fic 2 (thrown into the nest)

hmm (There's Love (if you want it))

pen pal besties (thus, friends absent speak)

Labyrinth (like those palaces in fairy tales)

Amnesia (engrave the silhouette of you)

X.3 (part three of (won't you) lay hands on me, AKA Harry the Masochist 'verse)

QV (Arm yourself (no one else here will save you))

C.2 (unfailingly ingenious at having a good time)

B.2 (Brumation Buddies)

third? date? and WEDDING EVENT OF THE CENTURY (parts three and four of the naive melody 'verse)

Ten Fifteen of the still-unposted ones:

JRPG-style

Chikan

cauldron

Soulmark drabble

Captive-Harry gets unknowingly adopted by the Dark

fake dating yaaaasss

magical

Little Master

University AU

Festivus

Circus AU

Feral

SOMNOPHILIAAAAAAAAA

Lord Voldemort, accidental relationship counsellor

Poor kids supper club

Since I jumped in from a non-tag, please feel free to share your WIPs if you haven't done so yet! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

#wip game #ask me stuff #if you like #tomarry #harrymort #fanfic #share your WIPs

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jewishicequeen · 5 years ago

Note

The space jail one for anyone

“I can’t believe I’m sitting in space jail with you of all people.”

I tried to think of a fandom I know for sure you're part of, and figured out Avatar's the safest bet. Weither it's Shippy or not you can decide yourself, I didn't write it with one of them in mind. It's during book 2, but without/before the last episode.

°°°

"You've been blasting the walls an HOUR by now. I don't think they're budging."

"Oh, exuse *me* that I'm trying to get us out of here, Mr. Ruspy-Voice-I'm-Not-Gonna-Take-My-Mask-Down!" The waterbender complained. "Like, seriously, you've done *nothing* but sitting there crossed legged and staring at me creepily since you came in. Maybe consider HELPING me?"

"You're doing a pretty good job by yourself." What is he supposed to say? I'm not gonna help you because you'd find out I'm a firebender and move to try and drawn me instead?

Not to mention, *the* firebender.

Yes, he'd really rather stay annoying and unhelping, thank you.

"Damn it!" She blasted the wall once again with a water corrent, so forcefully some ricocheting drops has reached him, all the way to the other side of the room. "Damn it!" She yelled again, slumping on the bench beside him, not bothering to gather up the wet subtence on the floor.

"And to think just this morning I was arguing with Toph that aliens aren't a thing. She's probably having the laugh of her life right now." She mumbled.

"I don't think those are aliens, really." He said, before he could shut his mouth. Ugh, really? The more he talks, the more likely she is to recognize his voice! "More like... angry spirits." He finished awkwardly, trying to avoid her horrifing gaze. He didn't KNOW what she learned in the north pole, but he LEARNED to respect her since then. Somewhere there, she became SCARY.

"Nope. There's NO WAY those are spirits." She said finally, shaking her head. "Spirits do stuff because we BOTHER them. I didn't do anything."

Oh man, she never heard Fire Nation spirit storied, did she? Poor naive water peasent. He sighed. "Whatever." He pulled the mask lower, leaning on the wall next to her. "What's sure, we're not getting out of here by force." He gestured to the puddle on the floor.

"Nope." She stretched, yawning. "Gosh, I wish Sokka was here. He'd get us out."

"Hmm? I thought he was a non-bender." He appriciated regular weapons like every avarge person- heck, his sword skills proved it was often more useful then bending- but he couldn't see how a club will be more useful in this situation then the numbros ice blocked Katara tried to throw at the door earlier.

"Not for force, for his mind. He'd have a good id-" she swirled toward him violantly. "How do you know he's a non-bender?" She asked, dangerously.

Oh shoot.

"You mentioned him earlier." He said hurriedly, his hand reaching to a sword that wasn't there.

"I definitally did not." She raised her hands aggresively, and he was painfully aware to the water surrounding them allowing her some wonderful weapon.

"Sure you did." He said faintly, no where NEAR believable.

She narrowed her eyes, taking him in. His height. His voice. His sheer annoyingness.

She groaned with disgust, taking a step back and looking at him like he's a dead bug on the soles of her shoe. "Zuko?!" She claimed half offended, half furious.

He scrumbled to a stand, raising his hands in surrounder. "Look," he said, defensibly, "We'll gain nothing from fighting eachother now so let's-"

"I can't believe I'm sitting in a space jail with YOU of all people! And talking to you, UGH!" She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Of course it's you, only a FIREBENDER could be such an insufferable, lazy piece of-"

"Well, you aren't much of a company either!" He snapped, raising his mask up. "With your 'oh dear, we're so stuck, I miss my brother he'd know what to do and also oooooooh if you just help me we'd get out of here in no time-" he knocked on the wall, irritated. "It's METAL, kid. What were you expecting to achive, attacking it with WATER?" He realized too late that he should shut up, knocking her fist aside. Another one was soon to follow, and a wave after wave of cold water, too close and too fast for him to actually manage to bend an effective flame without hurming himself as well.

"You arrugant- selfish- EVIL prince with your iron soldiers and your silk wardrob, thinking you have the privilege to TAKE the world's hope-" she huffed, standing just before him, not letting him enter a word, say that he's given that up, he's not after them anymore and he just want to go back to Uncle's teashop and can she PLEASE not stand so close to him cause that's kinda distracting- "You snaky, filthy, son of a-"

"Well, I don't want to bother you, Kat, but are you gonna get out of there, or not?"

What...?

Both of them turned their heads, to see her brother standing beside the now wide open door, shaking his head. "-because it was kind of a fuss to find you, just so you know, and while getting here with Aang wasn't so hard, we left Toph to guard us in the human world and I really don't want to get back and find out that our supper is gone because she was bored."

Another head popped in, bald with an arrow. One too familiar. "Is she coming? The spirits are getting kinda irritated here- oh, hey Zuko." He waved. "Your uncle said you won't attack us if we help you out which I REALLY hope is true because, you know, you wanna get out of here too. Probably."

Katara let go of him, slowly. "...you *knew* he'd be here?"

"Well, since the spirit who took you two looked pretty much the same, yeah." Sokka said, brightly, waving a piece of paper. "Apparently his uncle DOES recognize my drawings, by the way." He told her, cockinly.

"It looks like a tree that's been run over by a platyphus bear, Sokka."

"I told you they were spirits." Zuko said quietly, stepping stifly out of the room.

"Shut up."

#halfway through i realized #theres no bending in the spirit world #but i didnt feel like changing it so sorry its like that now #zutara #zuko #katara #sokka #aang #avatar the last airbender #atla fic #zutara fic #oneshot #my writing

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a-darla-ble · 5 years ago

Photo

Can’t Get That Music Outta My Head You know all those songs you hear in the film Shazam! (2019) in which at least one song in a certain scene that you love so much that you want to download it for your playlist, but then it’s like “Oh, my gosh! What’s the actual name of that song and by who?!” Well, you’re being covered. Here is the “complete” list of non-orchestral songs played in the DCEU film. Song 1 - Song played in this flashback scene in 1974 Upstate New York as we see young Thaddeus Sivana (Ethan Pugiotto, centre), his bullying brother Sid (Wayne Ward, left) and Mr. Sivana, his estranged father (played by longtime DC veteran, John Glover). Song 2 - Philadelphia - Today. View shot of the skyscrappers with the statue of William Penn, on top of the Philadelphia City Hall, founder of the future state of Pennsylvania in 1681 when he received a royal deed from King Charles II of England, although human activity in the region precedes that date. Song 3 - Song played in this scene in which the Vásquez group home received their newest addition to their foster family, Billy Batson (Asher Angel). In the foreground, we see Eugene Choi (Ian Chen) yelling it out in an online video game. Song 4 - Song played in this scene where Pedro Peña (Jovan Armand) was listening to it in his headphones, while Rosa Vásquez (Marta Milans) greeted Billy to Pedro, resulting the latter to simply nod back shyly.  Song 5 - Song played during this scene in which we see the family joining their hands for saying grace. But Billy, who’s having his first supper with them, wanted to miss the boat on that one.  Song 6 - Song heard in this scene when Victor (Cooper Andrews) and Rosa, in the background, were talking to a police officer on the phone about his escape, while Eugene did a background check on him and sharing information with her sister Mary Bromfield (Grace Fulton). Also, we see our little Darla doing some art project by putting purple glitter on purple construction paper.  Song 7 - We hear the song faintly, but it is played during that moment when we see Freddy Freeman (Jack Dylan Grazer) and papa Victor having a heartfelt talk about Billy’s recent escape after school.  Song 8 - Billy, who recently and suddenly became Shazam!, and Freddy witnessing a convenience store robbery following an attempt to buy beer, with Billy’s advantage as a bulking adult. We hear, in the background, the instrumental version of the classic 1980′s song by Boy George (a.k.a. Culture Club). Song 9 - In this scene where we hear that specific Christmas classic, Victor and Rosa were discussing, after Billy had run off, about how Mary used to do the same thing but became a wonderful big sister to the rest, and hoping it would become the same for Billy.  Song 10 - After discovering his newlyfound superpowers, Billy (as Shazam!), along with Freddy as his “manager,” went on a montage of testing for possible more newlyfound powers accompanied by this Freddie Mercury classic tune.  Song 11 - This song is heard while we see Freddy talking to Billy about his latest success on social media as Philly’s newest superhero. And, to his advantage for being picked on his disability, tells all the kids that Shazam! will show up at the cafeteria at lunchtime while being targeted by bullies Brett and Burke Breyer, much to Billy shocking surprise.  Song 12 - After what Freddy said to the other kids that he knows Shazam! and that he would show up at lunchtime the next day, he and Billy had an arguement “like an old married couple” as Mary would put out later. Frustrated, Billy left the table without excusing himself while a certain little girl with the cute glasses knows Billy secret identity. This song was played in this scene.  Song 13 - This song was heard while we see Billy, who was fed up with going to school decided to skip it in favour of doing selfies to the public in the city. While chatting with Mary after he saved her from being hit by a snow plow, Freddy was waiting in the cafeteria for Billy to show up as Shazam!  Song 14 - Billy was still showing off his powers, especially while blasting “lightning with his hands” to this song playing on the speaker. Until a bitter Freddy arrived and kicked aside the speaker and argued to him that he had a suitcase wedgie from the Breyer twins, leading to yet another argument.  Song 15 - This little girl (Aria Anthony) was so happy to see her idol, Santa Claus (Brian Kaulback) at the mall. This traditional Christmas music was played when Shazam! and Dr. Sivana’s fight came crashing down, resulting in Santa running away in a panic, leaving the poor little girl alone. I bet her two front teeth will not be the only thing she will be asking for Christmas. Maybe an unselfish Santa.  Song 16 - The fight between Shazam! and Dr. Sivana at the mall continues. After Sivana crashes him through a fitting room wall and into a toy store, this children’s folk song was heard throughout.  Song 17 - After escaping Dr. Sivana from the Rock of Eternity and into a strip club, Shazam! and the other foster siblings headed outside of that joint, with Mary carrying Darla in her arms and covering her eyes, so as not to see the contents inside. Sorry, Darla, but not for your lovely eyes to see. This “great music” was played inside. Song 18 - After saving the world as superheroes themselves and defeating Dr. Sivana, the Shazamily were chatting and laughing through this sweet song at Christmas morning, as Billy realized that home is where the love is.  Song 19 - Billy owed his new brother and best friend Freddy seriously for not showing up as planned. He finally showed up, much to the astonishment of the kids in the cafeteria. Superman showed up as well, bringing dessert, and not without the iconic theme composed by the legendary John Williams.  Song 20 - This 1995 version of the song, originally sung by the Descendents in 1985, covered this whole animated end credits sequence of this fun superhero film as we see our super family’s display of heroing and fun through Freddy’s notebooks’ doodles.

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dimancheetoile · 5 years ago

Text

of stardust and galaxies

Written for @shikasaku-week Hanami 2020 Day 2 Prompt 1: of stardust and galaxies

Read on AO3

I had an absolute blast writing this, you have no idea. This story is set before another that will also be posted for ShikaSaku Week.

Yes I did re-use the parents I invented for Sakura in Withered Flowers but they're really not important enough in this story to warrant me spending time researching names for them.

Please tell me what you thought about this one, I'm truly interested given how much I like it!

•

The war went on for much longer than anyone could have ever anticipated. The losses were massive, in scale of destruction and in numbers. After a particularly violent attack from Madara, Konoha was simply razed off the map. Entirely and thoroughly destroyed, until not even the foundations of the buildings remained.

The scope of the fire jutsu Madara used went far deeper than simply destroying the entire history of their village and every single memory kept in those narrow streets and green parks. His black fire, raging and wild, scorched the earth deep into its own core. They tried to rebuild, for a while. Tenzō's mokuton had been vital to the reconstruction effort, but it quickly became apparent that it wasn't worth the chakra exhaustion. Nothing would grow on the cracked earth left behind by Madara's madness.

Driven out of their own homeland by starvation, Konoha's remaining population began its exodus.

Having lost most of the people who used to lead Konoha no Sato, and a good chunk of the people who would have been considered successors to those leaders, the citizens were aimless for days as they regrouped and gathered the very few items they had remade for their new homes that they were going to abandon one more time.

In the end, things settled in the way things always settle after a disaster. Desperation and urgency bred to create exceptional circumstances and someone who wanted nothing to do with power ended up with way too much of it on their hands for their taste.

Haruno Sakura was born to civilian parents in the Farmers' Guild, who only had one expectation for their daughter, which was to marry a nice civilian who owned a reasonable business or worked a reasonable job and live a reasonable life together until they died at a reasonable age only a reasonable amount of years apart.

Unfortunately for Haruno Hashiru and Uzumaki Noroshi, they would both lose their life in a raid of their small property in the farm lands around the village. Having no living relatives and her inheritance barely paying for the funeral arrangements and handling of their property, Sakura was put in the orphanage, and that was that.

Sakura grew up in one of the worst orphanages of the Five Nations, surrounded by children who suffer just as must as you and whose bitterness and malice is proportionate to how poorly they're, in turn, treated by the people supposed to care for them. You don't grow up in that kind of environment and have huge expectations for your life.

Had Sakura not met a clan heiress and her clan heirs friends when she was at a turning point in her life, she would have remained a low-life, desperate kid who would have grown up on the streets of a village that never had the emotional capacity to care for its civilian population, given that it was born out of the desperate attempt at peace of two historically warring clans that treated its own, very rare civilians like cannon fodder.

She would have grown up starved and angry, desperate to put food in her plate day by day. She would have begun selling her body at the age of twelve, to the highest bidder willing to pay for her virginity, and the money from that sale only would have put food on the table for three months, in the underground squat where she would have lived with a few other street urchins, leftovers from a government feasting on its weakest population.

(in another life, she would have kept her eyes shut, round, childish face crushed against the pillow and thankful that she didn't have to look into the beady eyes of the man paying for the last shreds of her hopeful innocence, his white mane moving in rhythm to the thrusting of his hips. She would have thrown a shaking hand forward when he was done, feeling cold and clammy inside, numbly wondering that he kinda looked like a frog, from this angle, then closed her fist around the money before leaving in a rush. In another life, the man would have pulled his loose pants back up under his yukata, feeling good about himself because he just gave a girl enough money to feed herself for a few months. In another life, it never would have crossed his mind that he could have simply given her the money and offered her a shoulder to cry on)

(in another life... right?)

She would have eventually joined a gang, on her knees as often as she would slit throats in back alleys, and a few days before her seventeenth birthday, she would have bled out in the backroom of an unregistered club, throat torn open by a masked figure in a grey uniform the gang members knew too well. As her life would have slowly poured out of her, she would have looked at the back of the ANBU that just killed her and was giving a highfive to the one standing closest, and she would have died with a smile on her lips because the figure smelled like the ramen from Ichiraku that she had never gotten to taste, too expensive for her and her crew.

But Sakura met three clan heirs and after living for ten years in the orphanage, she had been taken in by the Akimichi Clan, when the three friends had taken one look at her shared bunk, on the third day of knowing each others, and had unanimously decided that this would not do and their new friend needed a better place to live.

(Ino had stomped her feet and Shikamaru had pleaded and Chōji had cried a little and eventually, Chōza had caved in and took in the girl. None of the three sets of parents had told their children that their actions didn't solve the problem. None of the three sets of parents asked their heirs why they didn't insist on bringing back every single child from the orphanage, or asked them what they thought would happen to the other children who hadn't made friends with clan heirs. None of them asked anything, because as kind as they are with their own children, willing to give in to their whim of playing heroes for an orphan, they ultimately don't care enough to change a system that benefits them first)

Sakura grows up learning two very important lessons: no one cares about the civilians, and she'll never be in control of her own destiny.

So she's not surprised a single bit when, as the last surviving member of the inner circle around the executive powers of Konoha, she's eventually pushed to the top under the guise of “honoring the deceased” and “giving her the position she deserves for her heroic actions in the war” and named Nanadaime Hokage.

That night, as the slow caravan of Konoha survivors comes to a stop for supper and rest, Sakura crawls into her tent and cries herself to sleep.

A few days later, they finally reach Kiri and Sakura negotiates asylum with the Mizukage. In those few days, she's named herself a cabinet made of the last remaining experts amongst Konoha's sparse population. There aren't enough people in that cabinet for her liking but she can't afford to be picky, so she brings all three of them into the negotiations and they come out with the least worst deal they can hope for, one that is still considerably better than anything they would have managed before the days of the Alliance and better than anything Sakura could have come up with on her own.

The Konoha survivors are put in the deserted district where people who died in the Mist coup used to live in. It's a bit cramped, but they can't afford to complain, so they adapt. At least they have a roof over their head and enough food to feed everyone. Kiri was just as affected by the war as the other nations, though the village itself didn't suffer much in its infrastructure. But they're lacking the numbers lost on the battlefield, and that's where the Fire citizens come in.

People just fill in the gaps left by the war, integrating seamlessly into Wave's economy. They're not naturalized, keeping their Fire citizenship and Sakura remaining their leader. The way it works is that the workers build a wall to close the district off, with a big gate that remains, more often than not, open. Sakura lives in an old administration building, having transformed the top floor offices into a few bedrooms, a kitchen, and a bathroom, two empty rooms waiting to be converted to a kotatsu room and a shrine.

On the ground floor, she has meeting with her advisors, she does hearing for her people and she forges the basis of what promises to be the Fire-Mist treaty, a cooperation and integration policy that would make Konoha's survivors into what amounts to a foster village of Kiri. If this thing comes to pass, they would essentially be a separate state-entity, with its own laws and government, but with privileged relations with Kiri in terms of right of passage, trade, taxes, imports and exports, as well as an equal share of the land.

An equally beneficial treaty, then, but a text of law that still takes a long time to redact and hammer into shape to be certain that no one is getting screwed over by poor wording. The main thing that her village-within-a-village brings to the table is the proposition of an Academy of Medicine and a House of Health.

In short, Sakura would open what amounts to a carbon-copy of Konoha's Academy, training kids to become genin. From that point on, the children would get two options: either continue on the path of becoming a shinobi of Kirigakure, or join the Academy of Medicine and train as a medic-nin. All children of the village would go through the first part of the training, not only Konoha kids, and would receive complimentary medic training so that every genin, even if they don't go on to become medic-nin, have a solid understanding of chakra control and healing, in hopes of reducing field-losses.

The House of Health would be civilian medics, in every specialty, all in one place for convenience. Classes would be provided for Kiri citizens to learn first-aid or more in-depth knowledge. It would double as relief for the overcrowded Kiri hospital, taking in all non-threatening cases so that the hospital could focus entirely on its surgery division and two research labs, as well as the paediatric wing.

The House of Health would have a sub-division for monitoring pregnancies and offering a more casual environment for labour, with a few empty houses around the House, fully furnished and waiting for the soon-to-be parents. They would spend the entirety of the labour in the comfort of the provided home, going at their own pace and being on their own or with their family. And if anything goes wrong, there would be an entire House of professionals right next to the houses to give a hand when needed.

Those propositions are basically what sold the treaty to the Mizukage, despite a few clauses that she was a bit iffy on, but agreed to in the end because the prospect of a fully-functional, advanced medical system and healthcare administration, alongside trained professionals under the tutelage of the greatest medic in the world is one of those things you don't say no to, under any circumstances.

So the treaty is signed, the old Kiri Academy building is remodelled to host the new courses and the House of Health is built right next to the Konoha district. Happy endings, right?

It's another morning, another day of working a job she frankly wants no part in and that she only performs to the best of her abilities because she's aware of the weight of the enormous responsibility placed on her shoulders. You know. A typical morning.

There is a rasp on the door, barely a knock before the bamboo panel slides open. It's not meant for privacy anyway, simply there to protect the inside of the house against Kiri's weather. Sakura looks up from her paperwork, vaguely surprised to see Shikamaru standing there. Vaguely, because he's still her Councillor and they have a lot of private meetings without the rest of her advisors, and because she's way too exhausted to question anything more deeply than with mild curiosity and vague surprise.

“Hey, Shikamaru. What's the new disaster?”

Half-fallen over her desk, legs starting to sore from the extended kneeling, it takes her a moment to realize he's not moving, and he's not answering. She looks up, frowning, but what she sees on his face is enough to have her up and right in his space, taking one of his hands.

With Ino and Chōji, Shikamaru is amongst the three people she's known the longest in her life. Only her parents beat that record, and they're dead, so the three clan heirs are probably the people she knows the best as well. Living with Chōji might have made her slightly more attuned to his emotions, but the difference is inconsequential. So she knows for certain that something is wrong.

“Shikamaru?”

His lips are pressed into a thin line, his eyebrows furrowed. He's not looking her in the eye, instead looking down at their feet, still quiet. She dares a hand forward, brushing against the side of his arm before retracting, a small comfort for both of them, she hopes.

“I need your help,” he finally says through gritted teeth. With that, it seems like all the tension is drained from his body, and he looks more defeated than anything.

“You have it, always,” she answers, trying for a soothing voice but knowing her own anxiety at this weird situation is slipping through the cracks. Shikamaru has always been the stable one, the rock, and she knows, as sure as the sun rise and sets, that if he crumbles, he'll be taking her, and the entirety of Konoha with him.

He scoffs at her answer. “I never wanted you to know this. This is mine and I don't want you to know.”

She flinches a little, surprising herself by how much that hurts. For one second, Shikamaru catches it, and guilt joins the frustration and anxious expression on his face.

“I'm guessing you don't have a choice,” she says softly.

“I really, really don't.” He sighs, a sad, depressing little noise that Sakura feels all the way inside her bones. “I need you to- I need a surgery.”

Sakura's eyebrows rise in disbelief. “You... need me to operate on you? Why? What's going on? You know I can't just perform surgery on you based on your words, I need to do, at the very least, a physical exams, and maybe a few scans depending on where the problem lies.”

Shikamaru's smile is feral, self-deprecating, and she hates it so much. “Oh, trust me, you won't need to do scans.”

Sakura sighs, leaning against the way with a leg propped up.

“Would you consent to a physical exam right now? We can go to the House.”

Shikamaru shakes his head. “I don't want anyone to know there's something wrong with me. You don't need an exam room to see the problem anyway.”

She bites her lip in consideration, then nods seemingly to herself. “Alright, follow me then. We'll go to my place.”

The tension seems to bleed out of Shikamaru's shoulder and he accepts easily. Sakura leads them out of her office and into the corridor that leads to a staircase. After climbing it, Sakura slides the door panel open and walks into the part of the building that serves as her home.

Shikamaru follows her without a word until they reach one of her unoccupied bedrooms. Or that's what it used to be anyway. Shikamaru raises an eyebrow, looking at her questioningly. She gives him an awkward smile, gesturing at the miniaturized operation room and the drawers upon drawers of medical equipment.

“Look, you have no idea how many people just barge in through my window after a mission, Mist and Fire alike, just because they don't feel safe going to the hospital. Post-mission paranoia is real enough that I'm willing to indulge them, and I refuse to let a disaster happen at the hospital just because I want my beauty sleep.”

He nods, the reasoning sensible enough. It's not like she needs the four bedrooms anyway, given that she lives alone.

(silently, he wonders about that, why she's never dating, why she's never showing signs of being interested by anyone. He wonders how anyone can work as much as she does and not want to come home to someone who wants to take care of you. Dating, post-war, is awkward. No one wants to actively seek out partners, because everyone is just a little too depressed to be able to make the efforts required to have a healthy, communicative relationship. But on the other hand, a good bunch of them are getting desperate. He can't really talk, he's single too, but at least he's dated before, civilians and shinobi alike, and he knows how important it can be not to be alone)

(she's always been alone)

“Well, we're alone and I've got everything I need. Do you want to tell me what's going on, now?”

The knot is back in his stomach, and Sakura looks like she knows exactly how little he wants to talk about this. Not that any of her patients is ever easy, unless they're civilians, but she doesn't tell him that, because she wants him to trust her sometimes this year and not worsen the situation.

Eventually, Shikamaru sighs, and begins to unhook the clasps of his flack jacket. Sakura nods, satisfied, and brings the tray with her basic equipment closer. She already has her stethoscope around her neck and the monitor for his blood pressure, when he takes his shirt off, and really, she has to put down everything now, doesn't she, because it's obvious what's going on.

Shikamaru self-consciously crosses his arms in front of his chest, but it's not enough to cover the two scars running across his upper torso.

She sighs, dropping the monitor back on the tray, and looks at him, head slightly tilted.

“Does anyone else know?” she asks, more to get him to talk than because she needs to know. She has to get him to relax, to trust her with this.

“My parents, obviously. Ino's and Chōji's parents too. And the surgeon who did this, he was one of the first to openly do those surgeries, so my parents brought me all the way to Kumo to see him. He's- like me.”

“Thank you for sharing this with me, Shikamaru. It does me great honor to know you find me worthy of who you are.”

“I- Sakura, I need to know if... will you see me differently now?”

She's never seen him like this, so uncertain, so out of place. He's so confident and calm, such a driving force for their people. She hates to see him like this. Sakura offers her hand, in the space between them, and Shikamaru uncrosses his arms to take it without even pausing. She smiles softly, touched.

“Do you see me differently for my own scars, Shika?” With her free hand, she bunches her shirt up to show her midsection and the seven, thumb-long scars scattered on her skin. “Sasori skewered me like dango on a stick. His spikes were thorough and touched all of my lower organs. I have a fake portion of small intestine and I'll never be able to have a child. Do you see me differently, knowing my scars?” she asks again.

He's looking at her with wide eyes and a deep, bleak sorrow that they all learned from the war, when grief and tears could put you in danger and you needed to get over things quickly on the outside, only to break down on the inside later.

“I'm sorry,” he says quietly.

She shrugs. “I'm not. I killed an akatsuki member, someone who would have kept hurting people again and again, and both Gaara and Kankuro survived because I was a part of this mission. I won't ever regret losing a few pieces of meat if someone's life is on the line.”

She squeezes his hand, a small smile on her face.

“So, about that surgery. Were you asking about a cosmetic procedure, to make all the scarring disappear? Or were you thinking about bottom surgery?”

Shikamaru frowns, and she can see the cool, confident guy coming back little by little, putting a happy smile on her face. “I didn't know you could do something for the scarring. In that case, both I suppose.”

“Why come now? Why not before the war, or right after? Did something change?” She hates to ask personal questions when he already seems so uneasy, but she can't agree to anything without all the facts.

“Before the war, the surgeon we went to used to send me parcels with shots and creams. He stopped, I don't know if it's because of shortage, or not knowing where to send it, or-” Or maybe he's dead, she thinks but doesn't say. “I ran out of shots two months ago and I was fine for a while, but I- it came back,” he says awkwardly, a plea in his eyes for her to understand without him having to say it. She nods quickly, refusing to let him worry. “I can't live like this. I'm miserable, Sakura.”

To hear those words, from the kind of man Shikamaru is, is heartbreaking. He deserves nothing less than happiness and fulfillment, after everything he went through being the youngest chūnin, then the youngest jōnin, then a War Councillor. Someone as calm and reliable and smart as Shikamaru shouldn't be miserable. Not on my watch. Maybe being Hokage will finally do her some good, if it means she gets to help him feel good again.

Sakura nods, weighting her words carefully before speaking. “Well, the scarring I can take care of right now, it's quick and painless. However, for your surgery, I need to know what result you want. Size, shape, do you want to be able to have biological children, all of that.”

He doesn't try to hide his relief when she doesn't push or try to have him talk more about his mental health. Not that I won't later, she thinks, but she can cut him so slack right now, given hos vulnerable he must feel.

Shikamaru is silent for a long time, eyes downward on his hand in hers, looking deep in thought. She wraps her other hand around his, pressing gently to show her support.

“I have a feeling you're exponentially more competent than the man I saw when I was younger. He only had one option for me, and a pretty scary one. But I'd like to reduce the scarring now, yes. I haven't taken my shirt off in public my entire life.”

Sakura smirks, dirty and unashamed. “Oh trust me, it was for the best. You have no idea the talk I've heard in the onsen about the comparison some of the kunoichi and jōnin make. I think a good portion of them is keeping a tally and you staying as cool as a cucumber whenever they try to get in your pants is making you the grand prize of their little competition.”

He grins, a small blush on his face that Sakura doesn't comment on. “I'm not Sasuke or Naruto, I don't have an urge to flash everyone when I'm fighting bad guys.”

Sakura bursts out laughing, the joke so unexpected it releases all the tension she hadn't noticed was left in the room. It's the first time she laughed thinking about them ever since the war, and being suddenly the last living member of a cursed team. Feeling almost giddy with being able to laugh again, she raises their joined hands and kisses his knuckles. He looks at her with wide eyes, his blush even more noticeable now.

“Right, options,” she says, wiping a tear. “Lay down for me, will you? I'll start working while I explain.”

He obeys, laying down on the examination table while her hands light up in green. She gets closer, bending slightly over him to have better access, then her palms slowly swipe over his chest, her chakra coaxing his cells into duplicating faster and cloning the genetic makeup of the older, original cells around the scars. Slowly, the two raises lines begin to smooth and loose their color.

“So there's an invasive procedure, and even more invasive procedure.” Shikamaru snorts in nervous laughter and she gives him a wry smile. “The first one involves using the unneeded tissue from what's already there and constructing a penis using what your body knows to be his. With implants, you'll get testicles, and connecting nerves will give you sensation. You will be able to get a full erection, but because I'm only using pre-existing tissues, your result will remain small compared to the average.”

She can see that he's listening intensely, but his blush has crept onto his neck despite her using very clinical language. She finds it absolutely adorable but she doesn't fancy being choked to death by her own shadow so she doesn't mention it. She doesn't say it either, but she's so proud of him it warms her up from the inside.

“The more invasive surgery starts with me collecting sample from you to be grown in lab so I can get enough skin and nerves and muscle made of your genetic makeup to basically construct a penis of the size and shape of your choice. Once attached, just like the other option, it'll be fully functional, sensitive and responsive. Now in both cases, you'll have a choice between implants to give your testicles the appropriate shape, or they can also be grown in lab and I can use your eggs to synthesize sperm glands and make you fertile.”

Sakura leans back, her hands loosing their green tint. Shikamaru sits up, staring down at his chest with wide eyes, tracing with his fingers the smooth skin where his scars used to be and where nothing is left now but an absolutely normal chest.

“Now bear in mind that I've only theoretically managed a successful transplant to make someone fertile, but I was doing the opposite procedure on a woman. When you break it down, it's exactly the same process and I've synthesized it all before, but I've never done it on a man, simply because I was never asked to. I'm certain I can pull it off, but you know, warnings and all thaaa-wow!”

Sakura can't stop the shriek of surprise when Shikamaru draws her in for the strongest hug of her life. She flails for a moment before she manages to wrap her pinned arms around his waist, his own circling her shoulder and crushing her against his bare chest. Shikamaru hides his face in her neck, and she stops the words that were about to leave her mouth when she feels the first tear drop into her neck and roll down her chest.

He's crying silently, face scrunched up enough that she can feel it against her skin. She caresses his back, drawing patterns over his warm skin, and she hums gently, rocking them together to the rhythm of a song she can barely remember.

“Thank you,” he manages, his lips moving against the fragile skin of her neck.

“Always, Shikamaru. I promise.”

She doesn't move any more than her rocking his large, warm body, waiting for the storm to pass, for the clouds to part enough that they can see the stars. Finally, he releases her, rubbing harshly on his skin until she gives him a tissue. His eyes are red and puffy and his cheeks rubbed raw, but he's he most beautiful thing she's ever seen.

“I'll take the second option,” he finally says, clearing his throat when his voice cracks. “Including the fertility package. Do you do a price for family?” The joke is weak but he's trying and she's so proud she might just choke on it so she laughs and she draws him into a side hug, his head resting on her shoulder.

“Put some clothes on, exhibitionist. Let's get out of here and we'll talk more about this later, yeah?”

He nods silently and complies, following her out of the house and into the streets of Kiri. Time passed quickly and it's already well into the night. Without saying a word, Shikamaru takes her hand and laces their fingers together. She gives him a smile, shaking with excitement and giddy with the novelty of simply walking hand in hand with someone. The people of the Konoha District give them long looks, but their eyes are kind and their smiles wide, happy to see their leader finally take something for herself.

Kiri's night sky is beautiful, so different from the one in Konoha, often hidden in clouds. Here, they can see every single star winking at them from their shimmering clusters, count the constellations drawing patterns into the darkness of the void, watch galaxies form and die as they live day by day in their new normal.

“Hey, Sakura?”

She hums in response, looking away from the beautiful canvas of the sky. He's looking at her like she's personally responsible for every star shining above them, and her heart picks up.

“Can I take you out to dinner?”

She breathes in the joy, grins wide. “Of course you can.”

He blushes again, and it's her new favorite thing, she could watch him for hours. She's so happy and humbled that he trusted her with himself like that.

“On one condition, though.”

He does his best to hide his nervousness when he answers, “What is it?”

“Money upfront for the surgery, Nara. I want a kiss before the fourth date.”

He giggles, high and pretty, and even he seems surprised by it. “You've got yourself a deal, Hokage-sama.”

#shikasakuweek #shikasakuhanami #shikasaku #shikasakuhanami2020 #naruto #my writing

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krat395 · 5 years ago

Text

W.D. Gaster, the Ultimate Tickle Master (Chapter 5)

After a rather interesting time at Muffet’s bakery/house, Gaster, MK, and the Dreemurr kids are all in the mood to sit by a campfire in the woods with Toriel, Asgore, Sans, Papyrus, Undyne, and Alphys. But before they do so however, Asriel and MK feel the need to tell everyone a story; a story about everything that happened at Muffet’s bakery/house during the previous 3 chapters. ;)

Undertale© Toby Fox.

******************************************

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

******************************************

W.D. GASTER, THE ULTIMATE TICKLE MASTER

Chapter 5: Story Time With a Goat and Lizard

After a short car ride, Gaster, MK, and the Dreemurr kids arrived at Asgore’s house in the woods. And upon entering the house, the first place they headed to was the kitchen where Asgore, Toriel, Sans, Papyrus, Undyne, and Alphys were all eating dinner together.

Sans: Hehe. Well, well, well, look who it is everyone. Did the five of you get caught in Muffet’s web or something? *asked Sans jokingly*

Frisk: Um, yeah. Yeah, we did, actually; in a manner of speaking. *replied Frisk while kicking off her flip flops to feel more at home*

After seeing Frisk take off her flip flops, Chara then decided to take hers off too. ;)

Alphys: Really? How so? What happened? *asked Alphys, who, for some reason, was wearing the same clothes as Undyne minus the red boots and eyepatch*

(During this particular evening, Toriel is wearing her purple and white robe; Asgore is wearing his pink t-shirt and blue pants; Sans is wearing his blue jacket, white t-shirt, black shorts, white socks, and white slippers; Papyrus is wearing a red hoodie, black pants, and red boots; Undyne is wearing her black tank top, jeans, eye patch and red boots; and Alphys is wearing a black tank top and jeans.)

Chara: Uh… well, we’ll gladly tell you, Alphys. And by “we,” I mean Azzy and Lizzy Boy. Heeheehee, you know; the “expert story tellers.” Heeheehee! But first, um, would you… would you mind explaining to me why you’re wearing the same tank top and jeans as Undyne? *asked Chara, confused as to why Alphys is currently wearing the same clothes as Undyne*

Alphys: Um, well… because…

Undyne: Huh? What are you saying, Chara? *asked Undyne, interrupting Alphys* Are you saying that she’s not allowed to dress like her Number 1 fan? *she asked while giving Alphys a hug, squeezing her tightly by accident due to apparently not knowing her own strength* Fuhuhuhuhu!

Alphys: *WHEEZE* Un… Undy… Undyne… you’re… YOU’RE… *WHEEZE*

Undyne: Fuhuhuhuhu! So precious! Fuhuhuhuhu! *Undyne laughed, squeezing Alphys even more*

Alphys: EEEEEEEEEEEEK! *WHEEZE* UNDY… *WHEEZE*

Gaster: Undyne, that’ll be enough. You’re hurting her. *said Gaster to Undyne in a calm manner*

Undyne: Oh, s-sorry, babe!! *Undyne apologized, letting go of her girlfriend, who was gasping for air mere moments ago* Guess I still don’t know my own strength! Fuhuhuhu! (Dammit! I need to be more careful! My poor lizard weeaboo!)

Alphys: *WHEEZE* It’s okay! *WHEEZE* I’m okay! *WHEEZE*

Gaster: Hehehehe. Good, Alphys. *said Gaster in response, placing his right hand on Alphy’s right shoulder to express his concern for her* Very good.

Undyne: Fuhuhu! So, anyway, what happened at Muffet’s house, punks?

Asriel and MK: Heeheeheehee! Well…

Toriel: Um, excuse me, Asriel, sweetie. *Toriel interrupted* I know you and your little friend here are excited to tell everyone what happened and all. But, can’t it wait until after dinner? You don’t want your food to get cold, do you?

Asriel: Heeheehee! No, I suppose not. …But then again,

Toriel: No. *Toriel interrupted again* You are not going to use your fire magic to heat up your meals again! When I say eat while it’s still warm, I mean, eat while it’s still warm.

Asriel: Awwww, ok, I will. *said Asriel a bit disappointedly while proceeding to sit at the dinner table along with MK, Frisk, Chara, and Gaster* Hmmm, that is unless Dad tells me I can...

Asgore: Asriel, listen to your mother, please. *Asgore interrupted*

Asriel: Hehe. Ok, Dad, I will. Hehehe.

Asgore: Hohoho! That’s my boy.

Toriel: Hee hee hee. Yes. Eat first, story later. *she said while poking Asriel’s tummy underneath the kitchen table with her 3 right foot toes for about 20 seconds, tickling him in the process*

Asriel: HAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! *Asriel laughed adorably in response* MOHOHOHOHOHOM!! HAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! GEHEHEHEHEHET YOUR BIG TOHOHHOHHOES AWAY FROHOHOHOHOM ME!! *he pleaded, trying hard not to fall out of his chair with every passing second of his brief but super effective tickle torture* HAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA~!!

Undyne: (EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! Oh my god, Azzy’s laugh!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! It’s too cute!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! Toriel, stop tickling him!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! Stop tickling him, please!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! Before I get a “cute attack!!” EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!) *Undyne squeed to herself with absolute delight after hearing Asriel’s adorable laughter*

Asriel: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHA!! MOHOHOHOHOHOHOHHOHOOM, STOHOHOHOHHOHOHOHOP!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!

Toriel: Hee hee hee. *Toriel just giggled in response, right before proceeding to pull her right foot away from Asriel before he could make any attempts to retaliate against her (right before he could grab her big insanely ticklish foot and start tickling it like crazy)*

Undyne: (Whew! That was a close one!)

Gaster: Hehehehehehe. *Gaster chuckled in response* Oh, Toriel. Hehehe.

MK: Mmmmmmm. *said MK after taking a bite of Toriel’s and Asgore’s food* Amazing food as always Ms. Toriel and Mr. Dreemurr. *he said right before starting to happily wag his long scaly tail*

Toriel and Asgore: Hee hee hee/Hohoho! Why, thank you, MK!

Papyrus: Nyeh heh heh! Yes! But, is it as good as your father’s food? *asked Papryus cheekily*

MK: Hehe. P-Papy, c-come on! You know I like my dad’s food, Ms. Toriel’s food, and Mr. Dreemurr’s food equally!

Papyrus: Nyeh heh heh! I know. Just thought it was necessary for I; the Great Papyrus, to conduct a politeness test, MK.

Toriel: Hee hee hee. Well, I’d say he passed with flying colors. Hee hee hee.

Papyrus: Nyeh heh heh! He sure did! Nyeh heh heh! (One of these days, MK; one of these days I’ll find out whose food you enjoy the most! Even if I have to tickle torture you to do it! Nyehehehehehehe~!)

The kids then proceeded to eat their supper. And while they were eating, Sans, Papyrus, Undyne, and Alphys all felt the need to jokingly remind them to behave for Gaster tomorrow while the four of them accompany Toriel and Asgore on their “date;” jokingly because the “big brothers” and “big sisters” themselves know that their “little sisters” and “little brothers” will listen to everything “Uncle” Gaster, has to say. X3 Then, as soon as the kids finished eating, they, along with all of the adults, went to Asgore’s basement living room to let their stomachs settle before going to the campsite in the middle of the woods between Asgore and Gaster’s houses. Oh, and also to hear Asriel and MK tell them about what happened at Muffet’s house. But wait, why didn’t Asriel and MK tell them about that while they were eating supper? Well, the answer to that question is simple. Whenever Asriel and MK tell exciting stories together, they REALLY get into what they’re talking about! So much so that they often stand up, run around, bounce around, and jump around all over the place as they reenact every single scene with sound effects from their mouths; just like that of typical young boys. X3 And while the two boys are standing up and telling their story, everyone else is going to be sitting down listening carefully to everything they have to say; Asgore sitting in his massive club chair with Chara sitting on his lap X3; Toriel sitting on the left side of Asgore’s basement couch with Frisk sitting on her lap X3; Undyne sitting in the middle of Asgore’s basement couch with Alphys sitting on her lap X3; Papyrus sitting on the right side of Asgore’s basement couch with Sans sitting on his lap XD; and Gaster sitting in Asgore’s wing chair with no one sitting on his lap.

Asriel: Hehehe. Ok, you guys, is it ok if MK and I tell you our story now?

Asgore: Hohoho, of course, my son. By all means, go right ahead.

Papyrus: Nyeh heh heh! Yes, please do tell, boys! I’m very eager to hear what happened at Muffet’s house! Nyeh heh heh!

Gaster: Hehehehe. I love your enthusiasm, Papyrus. *said Gaster with a friendly smile to his son, Papyrus* Hehehehe. You hear that, boys? Papyrus is eager to hear what you have to say. *he then said to Asriel and MK* So, you better start talking. Hehehehe.

Asriel: Hehehe. No problem, “Uncle” Gaster! *replied Asriel enthusiastically* MK, you heard the man. *he then said to MK, putting his arm around one of the young lizard boy’s shoulders and walking him to the center of the basement living room* It’s time to tell everyone a story, “Azzy and MK style!” Hehehe. Ready?

MK: Hehe. You know it, Az! *replied MK enthusiastically, wagging his tail to express his excitement for what he and Asriel are about to tell everyone* Hehehehe.

With that said; Asriel and MK then started telling everyone about what went down at Muffet’s house. And just as everyone predicted, they acted out all of the scenes just like that of typical young boys; making sound effects with their mouths such as “Kablooey,” “Kaboom,” “Vroom,” “Pew Pew,” “Whoosh,” “Fwip,” and “Psssh”; falling down, running, jumping, bouncing, strafing, etc. when necessary to mimic the movements of everyone that was involved; and imitating certain actions with their arms such as Muffet firing webbing out of her web shooters, Mettaton firing his arm cannon, and Gaster summoning ghostly hands. And while Asriel and MK were both adorable and fun to watch, everyone liked MK’s way of acting out things slightly more than Asriel’s; and that was mostly due to how MK made use of his tail to imitate certain actions. Everyone really likes seeing MK make use of his tail and it’s not hard to see why. It’s like an extra arm to him and with it; the young reptilian boy himself did things like wrap it around Asriel’s legs to simulate Muffet’s webbing; wrap it around his torso and Asriel’s torso to simulate Gaster’s shields and Muffet’s web cocoons; swing it and point it in Asriel’s direction, pretending that it was one of Mettaton’s backup arms, one of Muffet’s extra arms, or Gaster’s scythe at any given time; and spin it to somewhat simulate how Gaster spun his scythe to deflect Mettaton’s electricity directly into Mettaton’s heart-shaped core. That’s pretty impressive for a lizard monster such as himself! And while MK’s usage of his tail may have been fun to watch, the real cherry on top of his and Asriel’s sundae of a story were the parts where he and Asriel tickled each other when necessary. :D

………

Like, for example, when the boys reenacted the part where Muffet webbed up the their ankles, along with Frisk and Chara’s ankles, Asriel sat down on the floor and then MK tickled his feet after wrapping his tail around his ankles.

Asriel: PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF… HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHHA!!!!! *Asriel laughed preciously as MK tickled his feet, wiggling and squiggling just like he did when Blooky tickled them earlier today* MK, *SNORT* HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA~!!!!!

MK: Oooooooooooh! I’m Blooky, the g-g-g-g-g-ghooossssst! And I’m here to make the widdle pwince, waugh! *teased MK, pretending to be Blooky… sort of XD*

Asriel: HAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!!!!! MK, HAHAHAHAAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHA, WHAHAHAHAHAT ARE YOU DOOHOOHOOHOOHOOING, MAN?!!!!! HAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! YOU KNOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOW BLOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOKY DOHOHOHOHOHOHOESN’T TALK LIKE THAT!!!!! HAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!! HAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAHHAAHAHA~!!!!!

MK: Heeheehee!! I know, dude! I know! Heeheeheeheehee!! Kitchie, kitchie koo!! I gonna keep tickling you!! *teased MK, tickling Asriel’s feet faster and faster* Heeheeheeheehee!!

Asriel: HAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! NOHOHOHOHO!!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHHA!!!!!! NO, NO, NOHOHHOHO, NOHOHOHOHOHOHHO!!!!!! BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!! BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHHAHAAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHHAHA~!!!!!!

Undyne: (EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! NUUUUUUUUUUUU!! NOT THE BLEATING!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! OH MY GOD, IT’S, IT’S TOO CUUUUUUUUUTE!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! AND AZZY’S SO FLUFFY!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! X33) *Undyne squealed and shrieked to herself with absolute delight, hugging Alphys, who’s currently sitting on her lap, as a means of preventing herself from accidentally squeeing out loud*

Once again, Asriel and MK’s combined cuteness is too much for Undyne to handle. Undyne LOVES cute things; cute things such as the friendship of two lovable monster boys; so much! X3 Asriel and MK play off of each other so well. Not just when telling stories together but in general. And Undyne just loves that about them so much; so much that it makes her want to squee like a schoolgirl (and pick both of them up off of the floor and give them lots and lots hugs). But she doesn’t want to do that though. At least not out loud, anyway; and not on this particular night. So, in an attempt to prevent that from happening, she’s lovingly hugging Alphys, who’s currently sitting on her lap, to distract herself from the adorable scenes in front of her and everyone else that’s watching the boys in action.

Asriel: BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE HOHHHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO HAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHA~!!!!!!

………

And when reenacting the part where Muffet tickled MK’s feet, Asriel simply just wrapped his left arm around MK’s ankles and then tickled both of his scaly three-toed feet with his right hand fingers.

MK: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!! HAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! *MK laughed preciously as Asriel scribbled his right hand fingers all over every inch of his little scaly feet* AZ, COHOHOHOHOHOME ON!!!!! *he pleaded through his laughter, wiggling and splaying his 6 scaly toes like crazy with every passing second* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHA!!!!! YOUR FUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUR MAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAKES IT WOHOHOHHOHOHORSE!!!!! HAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! SO MUCH WOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHORSE!!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE~!!!!!

Asriel: Now, imagine this; but, with 6 hands instead of one!! *Asriel exclaimed to his audience as he continued tickling MK’s feet with his furry right hand fingers* Heeheeheeheeheeheehee!! Tickle, tickle, little lizard!! *he teased* Heeheeheeheeheeheehee!!

MK: HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEHEEHEE!!!!! OH, MY FEEHEEHEEHEEHEET!!!!! HAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! WHY DEHEHEHEHEHEMONSTRATE ON MY FEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEET?!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAAHAHAHA~!!!!!

Asriel: Because that’s where Muffet tickled you, stupid! *teased Asriel with no intention of offending MK as he began tickling the young lizard boy’s feet faster with his furry fingers* Heeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheehee!! Coochie coochie coo coo coo coo coo!! Heeheeheeheeheeheeheehee!!

Chara: (And because they’re sooooo stinkin’ cuuuuuute, Lizzy Boy!! X33) *thought Chara to herself while blushing after looking at MK’s soles and toes; soles and toes she finds extremely cute*

MK: HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!!!!! NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!!!!! HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOH, MY POOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOR FEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEET!!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA!!!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE~!!!!!!

………

And when reenacting the part where Gaster tickled Muffet with spines, Asriel lied on the ground and then MK tickled his torso with his long scaly tail, slithering it around his every inch of his torso like that of a snake, pretending it was one of the spines Gaster magically summoned.

Asriel: HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHA!!!!!! *Asriel laughed preciously all the while MK tickle his torso with his tail (and on the outside of Asriel’s shirt in order to prevent Asriel’s fluffy torso fur from tickling his sensitive tail)* OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOH, THE TAIL!!!!!! HAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHA!!!!!! OHOHOHOOHOHOHOH MY GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAD, NOHOOHOHOHOHOHOHOT THE TAIL!!!!!! *he pleaded through his laughter, ticklish sensations overflowing his entire upper body* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHA~!!!!!!

Alphys: Haha! Yeah! Way to work that tail, “little bro!” *cheered Alphys* (You have to teach me how you do that, MK! Seriously, you do!)

MK: Hehe. Thanks, “big sis!” So yeah, as I was saying, “Uncle” Gaster’s spines were awesome! Slithering around Muffet’s body, tickling her with each one of their individual vertebrae, and even wiggling their tail bones like this! *exclaimed MK, right before using the tip of his tail to tickle Asriel’s armpits and bellybutton to simulate how Gaster tickled Muffet’s armpits and bellybutton with his spines’ coccyges.

Asriel: FWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA~!!!!!!!! *Asriel laughed even harder upon feeling the tip of his reptilian friend’s scaly tail alternate between wiggling in the hollows of his armpits and twirling inside his bellybutton* BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!! BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!! BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE HOHOHOHHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO HAHAHHAAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA~!!!!!!!!

Undyne: (EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! AZZY, STOP BEING SOOOOO CUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUTE!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!) *squeed Undyne to herself, hugging Alphys once again*

.........

And when reenacting the part where Gaster summoned hands to tickle Mettaton, MK lied on the floor on his back and then Asriel used his fingers and toes to tickle his torso.

Asriel: Well, since I can’t summon hands like “Uncle” Gaster, I’m just gonna have to pretend that my feet are hands for this scenario! *said Asriel, right before beginning a ticklish assault on MK’s armpits and belly with his furry toes and fingers respectively* Heeheeheeheeheeheeheeheehee!! Coochie coo! Coochie coochie coo! *he teased*

MK: AHAHHAHHAHAHHAHHAAHAHHHAHHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! AZ, NOHOHOHHHOHOHHOHOHO, HAHAHAHAHAHHHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA, NOHOHOHOT YOUR FUR AGAIN, HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA, NOHOHOHOHOHOT YOUR FUR AGAIN!!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHHHAHHA!!!!!! OHOHOH, IT’S SOHOHOHOHO TICKLY!!!!!! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!

Asriel: Heeheeheehee!! Oh yeah; yeah, I know, dude! Heeheeheehee!! Such a ticklish little lizard! *he teased again, this time tickling other parts of MK’s body such as his neck and sides with his toes and fingers respectively* Heeheeheeheeheeheehee!!

MK: HAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHHAHAHA!!!!! OHOHOHHOHOHOHOH MAN!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHA!!!!! OHHOHOHOH MAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAN!!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!! HAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, I GIVE, I GIHIHIHIHIHIHIVE!!!!! *said MK through his laughter in an attempt to get Asriel to stop tickling him* HAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHA HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE~!!!!!

.........

And when reenacting the part where Gaster tickled Muffet’s feet after Muffet got trapped in her own webbing, MK lied down on the floor and wrapped his tail around his torso to simulate Muffet’s webbing. But MK’s tail alone wasn’t enough to simulate Muffet’s webbing though. So, to add to it, Asriel trapped MK’s legs in a set of “leg stocks” (Asriel wrapping his legs around MK’s legs to hold them still and expose his scaly feet). Then, once Asriel ensured that MK couldn’t pull his legs out of his grasp, he tickled MK’s feet with every single one of his furry fingers, eliciting frantic laughter and precious squeaks from his young reptilian friend in response.

MK: PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF… HAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!! AZ, *SQUEAK* HAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, AZ, DOHOHOHOHOHOHON’T!!!!!!!!!! *SQUEAK* HAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!! OH, MY POOHOOHOOHOOR FEEHEEHEEHEEHEET!!!!!!!!!! *SQUEAK* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!! OH, MY POOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOR FEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEET!!!!!!!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!!!!!! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHA~!!!!!!!!!!

Asriel: Heeheeheeheeheeheehee!! *Asriel just giggled in response* Oh, MK. Heeheeheeheeheehee!! Tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle!! *he teased, tickling MK’s feet a little faster than before* Coochie coochie coochie coochie cooooooooo!! Heeheeheeheeheeheeheehee!!

MK: HAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!! STOHOHOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOP TEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEASING ME, DUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUDE!!!!!!!!!! *MK pleaded through his laughter, wiggling and splaying his 6 scaly toes like it’s nobody’s business* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA!!!!!!!!!! YOU KNOHOHOHOHOHOOW HOW EFFECTIVE TEEHEEHEEHEEHEEASING IS WHEHEHEHEHEHEN TICKLING ME!!!!!!!!!! *SQUEAK* HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEEHEEHEE!!!!!!!!!! ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU, HAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, TICKLE MY FEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEET!!!!!!!!!! *SQUEAK* *SQUEAK* HEEHEEHEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE HAHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!

Yes, teasing is very effective when tickling MK! Everyone who’s currently in Asgore’s basement knows that! Especially Chara and Alphys! ;)

Undyne: (EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! OH MY GOD, IF AZZY AND MK DO ANOTHER CUTE THING AFTER THIS, I THINK I’M GONNA EXPLODE!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!) *squeed Undyne to herself, hugging Alphys yet again*

TO BE CONTINUED...

#undertale tickle #undertale tickling #feet tickling #asriel #monster kid #monsterkid #tickle story #tickle fic

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ruffiorocks · 5 years ago

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Glee season 4 Episode 10

Artie's Story

.Oh so Finn has actually noticed something going on with one of the kids that doesn't involve beating each other up or their ability to win him a competition. Is this growth?

. Wait.. so I get that Artie doesn't have his wheel chair in his dream, but apparently having glasses is a handicap now to?

. Ugh... The whole 'we don't understand Rory because he's Irish' wasn't funny the first time and it isn't funny now.

. Ok.. hold up! So because Artie wasn't in a wheel chair he no longer sees Becky as someone worth speaking to, which means no pity date and because Becky never got the validation from a boy who didn't want to really date her she suddenly becomes the schools pregnant slut?!! What the actual F**k?! Rory says she never learned to have self respect because Artie wasn't there? I think I'm going to throw up! What happened to Sue? Puck or even Brittney who all supported Becky?

. Tina apparently still stutters becau Artie isn't there to validate her.

. Artie is somehow responsible for Finn, Ryder and Puck being decent human beings and not kicking the crap out of Kurt? Since when?

. Wait.. so because Artie never ended up in a wheel chair and joined Glee Kurt somehow for held back a year and never met Blaine?

. Kurt is so responsible for Rachel pursuing her dreams, and without him she is a quiet librarian who doesn't sing?

. Without Artie Mr Shue is an alcoholic and is still with Terri and doesn't notice his baby is a doll?

. Emma ended up with Coach Tenaka?

. Rory says that Artie was to busy playing football to join Glee and apparently HE was the glue that held the club together? Hahaha 🤣🤣

. so because Artie wasn't there to encourage Quinn she stayed in her wheel chair and died? So we're just forgetting about Joe and his support? Wait.. if there's no Glee then why would she have crashed? She wouldn't have been on her way to a Glee wedding! Oh... She texts and drives in every timeline, that's how they get round it 😑. Oh and apparently being on a wheel chair without the supper of Artie Abrams leads Quinn to die of a broken heart? Wtf?

So conclusions from this little dream senario, is Artie believes he is the centre of everyone's universe and the world can't function correctly without him. He is the reason a young girl doesn't become a pregnant slut (the shows words), he is the reason Rachel is a star and in New York, he is the reason Kurt met Blaine, he is also the reason that Finn, Ryder and Puck aren't school bullies oh and he is the reason that Quinn didn't die of a broken heart and was able to able to walk again. Even though I recall Artie telling her not to listen to the docs who said she would walk again and then the only support we saw her get was from Joe. Oh and Will and Emmas love lives and happiness are all dependent on him to. Artie is a self involved Jack ass it's seems!

Kurts story

.awww Burt is the best dad ever!

. Noooo Burt has cancer!

.erm.. not sure Burt bringing his sons ex who cheated on him to New York after Kurt wanted space was the best idea, but I guess we bad to see them get together somehow.

Pucks Story

. Why is Puck hanging around the school Halls? Why is there no faculty members questioning this?

. On it's because he's 'scoping out highschool chicks' that's not at all illegal or creepy.

. Did Pick just kidnapped his underage brother from school and take him to LA?

. Oh so he DID kidnap him since Jake lied to his mother and said he was away with Ryder

. Wait.. so Puck has a sister that we and Jake never get to meet?

Brittneys story

. Hahahaha Brit and Sam get the Glee kids together to tell them how they really feel and Marley gets up staying she isn't listening to this, only for Brit to state she was going to tell her delightful.

.wait.... Did Sam just propose?

. Oh my God ! Coach Beaste is playing along rather than oh I don't know... CALLING THEIR PARENTS?

. Oh Gross! So Sam proposed so he and Brit could 'make the most of the time they had left' he used the apocalypse to trick Brittney into having sex with him?!! Coach Beaste this is partly YOUR fault!

Sue's story

. Sue gets Millie Rose as her secret santa

. Sue immediately starts to fat shame the poor, lovely lunch lady to is bullied and fat shamed every day by students and has no support from the faculty to a student? I can't even bring myself to type what she calls Mrs Rose!

. Why are the showing Becky as being a selfish little shit that is throwing every gift Sue gives her?

. Oh finally! Someone (Mrs Rose) has acknowledged that Marley has an eating disorder!

. Her mother tells her she is a beautiful miracle, no one in Glee club, her supposed friends could have told Marley this?!!

. Oh Sue is watching and seems to be moved? Pick a lane Sue!!

. Oh she's going to raise funds for Marley and her mum!

. Aww she got them presents and a tree! Oh and left money for Marley's therapy!

. Hahaha Marley says they would call the police still 🤣

. Oh so Brit and Sam aren't married and Coach Beaste played then because she didn't think they needed about teen marriage amd pregnancy? Erm..... Coach.. you DO know what people tend to do the night they get married right?

. So rather than helping the kids find something to be happy about, she tells them the world will end on a different day?!!!

Back to Kurt and Burt

. Kurt does NOT look happy about Blaine invading his space (again) and applying to Nyada!

Back to Sue and Mrs Rose

.mille knows, awww...... She won't accept the money

. Sue is being kind, wanting Marley to get better, but can't help but sneak in a fat shaming joke

. Sue can literally predict every move the Glee club makes

. I love hearing Marley sing, the rest can f**k off after how they treated her!

. Kurt still not happy Blaine is in his home! And I don't blame him!

Conclusions

Artie is a selfish ass who thinks everything good in the world is due to him and only him.

. Sam is disgusting and convinced a high school girl into marrying him so he could spend the end of the world having sex with her!!

. Coach Beaste is complicate to 'pretend' teen marriage and doesn't at all understand what people do when they get married!

. Blaine is a creeper who is stalking Kurt and disguising it as cute when Kurt wanted space. But Kurt's father brought him there and no way is Kurt going to upset his dad who just said he has cancer.

.Marley is wonderful! End of!

. Sue needs to pick a lane!

.can we stop fat shaming Mille Rose? She and Burt are the best parents ever!

. If I was Mille Rose I wouldn't want my kid back with those Glee kids after their treatment of her!

. it's apparently OK for Puck to kidnap a student and roam school halls looking to scope out young girls??

#glee #marley rose #sue sylvester #anti will shuester #noah puckerman #jake puckerman #coach beiste #brittney s spears #sam evans #artie abrams #kurt hummel #burt hummel #anti blaine anderson #quinn fabray

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juicehoee · 7 years ago

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All Along the Watchtower {Chapter One: Nevada} (Juice Ortiz)

One/Two/Three/Four/Five

New Juice story that I’m very excited about! I’m testing it out on Tumblr before I post it anywhere else so feedback is greatly appreciated! Not quite sure the direction it will take, but this is unedited and raw! Hope you Juice hoes enjoy it :)

-Solaris

Chapter One: Nevada

Juice was lost.

The stretch of road ahead of him seemed impossible to navigate. Everything was so dark and cold and endless. Nothing could save him. Nothing could help him. He was lost. So needlessly, helplessly, undoubtedly lost.

His GPS had died about halfway on his way home from Nevada. The run had gone as planned, but he hung back for the night while his brothers headed back to Charming together. He stood in line for three hours to see the new Star Wars on its opening night and crashed at a shitty motel before heading back in the morning. It was a stupid idea, considering how he had no sense of direction. Hell, he could get lost at the goddamned grocery store. He had to admit it was worth seeing the return of Han Solo: his favorite character of all time. He liked to think that if the kids back home in Queens could see him now, they’d compare him to Han Solo, with the leather kutte and general badassness (he just wouldn’t want them to see the way the club made fun of him for liking that nerd shit).

The pinks and purples of the morning sunrise had faded into a bright blue that hung in the sky above him as he tore up the road with his rubber tires. Juice pulled over to the side of the road, praying that his phone could get a signal out here. He had always trusted his GPS, but now the fucker had died on him and he had to turn to Google Maps- he didn’t trust the government to not be tracking that shit.

Two percent. His phone was on two percent.

An article that he read last week flashed before him in his head. Millennials nowadays would spend more time looking for a charger than they would asking a person for directions. Could he really consider himself a millennial?

He killed the engine and started walking with his thumb out, praying someone normal would stop.

{***}

After about twenty minutes walking backward, a pickup truck finally slowed to a stop next to Juice. The weight of the handgun in his waistband was heavy, reminding him of his defense in case this person tried to slit his wrists or skin him alive for their supper.

“Need a ride there, skippy?” An older man, late 50s to early 60s, looked at him through the open window of his rusty red pickup truck. “Where are you headed?”

“Nearest gas station.” Juice sighed, deciding the guy seemed sane enough for a ride down the street. “There any fast food places around here?”

“There’s a McDonald’s near the gas station, if that’s what you’re looking for.” the guy answered, unlocking the door for him to get in. “Man, I miss the days when I could shovel down two Big Macs in ten minutes. Now, the wife tells me it’s bad for my cholesterol.”

“I guess I’ll enjoy it while it lasts then.” Juice chuckled, swinging open the door with much resistance.

“Oh, stop it, Uncle Lenny! Let the young be young!”

Juice jumped a mile in the air from the front as a tinkling voice of a young girl came from the backseat. She had to be around his age, maybe a little bit younger. A chuckle escaped her as Juice settled back down, his heart racing.

“I’ll stop if you promise not to give the poor boy a heart attack!” Uncle Lenny bargained.

“I didn’t see you back there.” Juice smiled sheepishly and extended his hand to the backseat. He was still slightly embarrassed at his reaction. “The name’s Juice.”

“Priscilla.” the young girl replied, taking his hand in hers. “Pleasure to meet you, Juice.”

She had a firm handshake and smooth hands that made him want to hide his own callous ones (being a mechanic could put your hands through the fucking ringer most days. No wonder Clay had arthritis).

“Juice? Now, what kind of name is that?” Uncle Lenny’s booming friendly voice asked. “Some kind of nickname, isn’t it?”

Uncle Lenny was an intimidating guy. He was big and burly. He could fit right in with the Sons of Anarchy by the looks of him though he was a little more likable than the rest of the assholes in the club. Juice loved the guys, but he couldn’t deny that they could all be a little sour when tensions ran high, especially with the gun-running business. Uncle Lenny’s familial friendliness was a welcome change from the playful insults he faced back at the clubhouse (there were some days he still felt like a prospect).

“It’s a nickname.” Juice replied, smiling bigger than he had all morning. He’d even momentarily forgot about his bike on the side of the road or the Star Wars escapade of the night before. “I’m from New York and I’d call myself a Biggie man.”

“Biggie?” Uncle Lenny furrowed his brows in confusion.

“He’s a rapper, Uncle Len.” Priscilla piped up from the back.

“Exactly.” Juice nodded at her. She smiled back at him. “He’s got this song called Juicy and my real name is Juan Carlos. My friends called me JC and eventually, the two mixed together and everyone just ended up calling me Juice.”

“Juan Carlos, huh?” Priscilla smirked at him. “Nice tattoos.”

He brushed his hands absentmindedly over the tribal-style lightning bolts on his skull. A slight blush burned his cheeks.“Thanks. Got ‘em when I moved to California.”

“I like them.” Priscilla commented, imitating his movements on her own head. “Never seen anything like them.”

“Neither have I.” Uncle Lenny laughed. There was no judgment in his tone. “You don’t see a lot of ink around here; it’s all very backwoods and traditional and such.”

“And you’ve always lived here?” Juice asked, curious about this little country family in the backwoods of Nevada. Most people weren’t so welcoming considering his appearance.

“Nah, we used to live in a big city.” Uncle Lenny answered. “Been me, Cilla, and my wife ever since…”

“Boston. That’s where we were.” Priscilla cut him off. “Ever heard of it?”

He noticed the mischievous flick in the question. “ ‘Course I have.” Juice grinned at her, craning his head to look her in the eye. “Worst baseball in the country.”

“Oh, shut it.” Priscilla bit back at him. “I only know about hockey.”

“Even worse!” Juice moaned, putting a hand to his forehead with an air of drama. “I would know, I played a little bit in high school.”

“So did I.” she retorted.

He fucking loved this girl.

“As much as I hate Boston, I gotta admire that signature Boston attitude.” he relented with their joking rivalry. Juice tried to ignore the glint he saw in Uncle Lenny’s eyes.

“Well, here’s the gas station, lad.” Uncle Lenny pulled into the parking lot. “McDonald’s should be a five minute walk down that way.”

Juice turned his head to see the blessed golden arches just down the road and his stomach growled. “I can’t thank you enough man. It was so nice to meet you guys.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Juicy!” Priscilla put a hand on his shoulder. “I told Uncle Lenny it was a gamble picking up some riff raff with head tattoos and an MC vest.”

“It’s a kutte, actually.” Juice laughed. “And I’m harmless.”

“Even if you have terrible taste in sports teams.” Priscilla quipped back.

“Are you sure there’s nothing else we can do for you?” Uncle Lenny asked.

“You’ve already done more than enough, thank you so much.” Juice said, shaking Uncle Lenny’s hand in gratitude. “I wish there was something I could do to thank you.”

“Come to dinner?” Priscilla suggested. “I want to know more about that kutte.”

Uncle Lenny’s eyes widened in shock. “You’re only saying that ‘cause you think he’s cute.”

“So?” Priscilla winked at Juice with the widest smile he’d ever seen. “Humor me.”

To Juice, it sounded like a challenge and Uncle Lenny must have picked up on that. He shook his head, knowing it was a bad idea to invite this dangerous looking stranger into his home, but he couldn’t say no to his darling niece. That was for sure.

“Don’t pressure the poor guy. He must think we’re crazy enough as it is.” Uncle Lenny sighed.

“My number’s already in your pocket.” Priscilla said.

Juice shoved his hand into his pocket and, to his surprise, there was a note with ten numbers all written in the cutest curly handwriting. “You must think you’re really slick, don’t you?I’m holding you to that dinner.”

“That’s my cell. Only old people use the landline anymore.”

Juice shook his head and climbed out of the old, red pickup truck just as Uncle Lenny defended that he “wasn’t even that old, for your information, Cilla.” He waved them off on his way into the gas station convenience store to pick up a phone charger and head into the McDonald’s for the savory mess of diabetes he was about to shove into his mouth (on the rare occasion, he did like to treat himself).

His cheeks hurt from the goofy grin he couldn’t seem to wipe off his face.

{***}

“Now, was it really necessary to make me drive a truck here to pick up you and your dumbass bike because you have no fuckin’ clue where you’re goin’?” Jax shoved Juice in the shoulder, making him hit hard against the inside of the truck.

Juice was just glad to be on his way home with his bike in the back. Three hours of eating Big Macs and Mcnuggets waiting for Jax to pick him up made him feel swelled up like a big balloon. His stomach definitely didn’t feel right.

“Got a pretty girl’s number. That worth it?” Juice hit Jax back.

“Not for me!” Jax shook his head. “I already got a pretty girl so I don’t really gain anything from bailing your ass out in the middle of nowhere, Nevada.”

“Come on, man!” Juice groaned. “You got Tara! You hit the fuckin’ jackpot with her and I live alone with two cats.”

Jax raised an eyebrow. “You got cats?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Maybe you gettin’ a little action outside the croweaters will be good for all of us.” Jax admitted with huge, shit-eating grin on his face. “First, you gotta learn to get to Nevada and back.”

Shit. He didn’t think of that Priscilla lived all the way out here in middle-of-nowhere, Nevada. It was a six hour drive both ways. A lot of miles in between them.

He had a habit of getting his hopes up for a pretty girl and then getting his heart crushed.

Jax must have noticed the look on Juice’s face because he put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, man. If she’s worth the drive, then you’ll make it.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“You think I expected to end up with Tara?” Jax asked, laughing quietly to himself. “I thought I’d never see her after Chicago and now she’s the mother of my kids.”

“She really lowered her standards to end up with you, man.” Juice joked, suddenly feeling lighter. “You’re a lucky guy.”

“Whatever, man.” Jax laughed with him. “Just do me a favor, alright?” “Yeah, dude. What do you need?” Juice asked, eager to please as he usually was.

“Charge your fuckin’ GPS next time.”

{***}

Juice was greeted by two distinct sets of meows as soon as he opened the front door. Shiloh and Dolly immediately pawed at his knees, making it hard for him to even make it the four feet from the door to the couch. He just wanted to sit for five minutes.

“Come on, guys, you can’t even be mad!” Juice bargained with them. “I left you plenty of food and water and you’re outdoor cats anyway!”

They just stared at him.

“Fine. Just let me sit for a little bit.”

Shiloh and Dolly (yes, she was named after Dolly Parton) were twins he happened upon at a shelter one day. They were older cats, way beyond the youthful years of the kitten age, but they were too of the most adorable cats he’d ever come across. That day, he wasn’t planning on taking the two of them home, but he couldn’t resist those beautiful brown eyes. The three of them had grown very close.

Dolly was very territorial of him while Shiloh just didn’t give a shit.

Juice shoved his bag onto the couch and plopped down, sinking into the beat up cushions and feeling that deep sense of comfort that only home can give you. He loved his house; buying it was the first time in his life he felt more independent than lonely. Like an actual functioning human being. Becoming part of the club solved a lot of his loneliness, but that part came after buying the house. It didn’t solve all of his loneliness. But some.

He felt the familiar sensation of fur crawling slowly over him. Dolly took her rightful place on his shoulder while Shiloh decided to curl up into a tight ball in his lap. Juice scratched behind Shiloh’s ears, realizing that they weren’t mad and hungry; they just missed him.

“Awww, I missed you guys, too.”

#juice ortiz #juan carlos ortiz #juan carlos juice ortiz #samcro #sons of anarchy #soa #samcro imagine #soa imagine #sons of anarchy imagine #juice ortiz imagine #solariswrites #theo rossi

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