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chrisevanslovesposts · 12 days ago

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Pilot

Bella walked into the boy's apartment to find a girl crying watching dirty dancing with box's on the floor on their living room floor. She walked over to where all the boys sat staring at her.

"So this is Jess?" Bella asked and they all nodded their heads.

"Break up?" Bella asked after few more seconds of silence and they all nodded their heads again.

"What have you done, Schmidt?" Nick asked as Jess blew her nose.

Bella turned and walked back out going back over to her apartment where Theo sat on couch watching TV.

"Hey, you meet Jess?" He asked as she sat down beside him and she nodded her head.

"Is she nice?" Theo asked looking back at the TV.

"Uh, she is currently going through a break up and is sitting in their living watching dirty dancing crying her eyes out." Bella told him and he looked at her with wide eyes.

"Dang, they have their hands full." Theo said taking a sip of his water.

"Yeah." Bella nodded her head.

Bella and Theo walked over to the boy's seeing Jess on the couch and the boys sat at the island in the kitchen.

"So the Wild West party's on Saturday. I'm trying to get us in, but you may need to call Caroline." Schmidt looked at Nick.

"I'm not calling Caroline." Nick shook his head.

"Nick, hear me out.."

"Shh." Nick covered Schmidt mouth.

"Had the time of my life." Jess sang from the couch.

"We are in this situation because of you." Nick pointed at Jess who started punching a pillow.

"I hate your face, Spencer. I love you." Jess cried.

"It has been a week of this madness. I'm going crazy, Schmidt. I can't take it." Nick pointed at Jess

"You know what, I got this." Coach said slapping the table and standing up and walked over to the coach sitting by Jess.

"Hi, Coach." Jess said looking up at him before looking back at the tv.

"Stop it. Stop. Schmidt." Coach called when Jess started crying again.

"Okay, all right. I got us into this, I'm gonna get us out." Schmidt slapped Nicks back before walking over to Jess.

"Jess, I'm gonna take the remote. All right, All right. Hey, Jess, how you doing?" Schmidt asked her as she pointed at the tv, "You look fantastic. What if you came out with us tonight? You know, after work. You know, we'll fix you up, we'll take you out, we'll get you a rebound." Schmidt asked her as Coach, Nick, Theo, and Bella all walked over.

"A rebound?" She asked

"Yeah."

"I don't know if I'm ready."

"You're totally ready for it. I'll take you through the whole thing and Bella will help me. We'll be... We'll be like your guide." Schmidt said as Bella looked at him like he was crazy.

"Like Gandalf through Middle-earth?"

"Probably not like...Okay. First of all, let's take the "Lord of the Rings." references, let's put them in a deep dark cave, okay. Where no one's gonna find them, ever." Bella told her leaning against the coach.

"Except Smeagol. He lives in a cave." She whispered the last part.

"You know what, Jess, come on. Let's just take the head off the couch. Come on. Sit up, girl." Schmidt told her and she slowly sat up.

"There you go." Coach nodded his head.

"Look at that. Doesn't that feel good? There we go."

"I think that sounds nice. She's going out to find a rebound Who's that girl? It's Jess." She sung the last part.

"Wait, did you just make up a theme song for yourself?" Theo asked as he took a sip of the coffee he got off the counter.

"I'm... we're gonna fix it." Schmidt said grabbed Bella's hand showing them that they would fix it as Bella rolled her eyes and yanked her hand away.

Bella was showering when she heard the door open.

"Hey, where's the deodorant?" She heard Theo ask.

"Should be in the top drawer." She said as she shaved the last part of her leg then turned the water off.

"Thanks." He said before putting it on.

Bella grabbed her towel wrapping it around her and stepped out of the shower to see Theo styling his hair in the mirror.

Bella got dressed under towel before throwing the towel in the bin in the corner before walking over to Theo. She grabbed the hair gel from the the drawer and put a little bit in her hand before helping him out with his hair. Once finished she started on her own hair. She blew dried her hair and then curled it.

Once finished she went and got dressed in her outfit. She got dressed and a nice black dress with black heels. When she walked into the living room Theodore was looking down at his phone. He wore a black suit.

He looked up at her smiling.

"You look beautiful, as always." He smiled at her then leaned over kissing her cheek.

"You don't look to bad yourself. Ready to go?" She asked him and he nodded his head.

He laid his hand on the small of her back as he led her out to the car.

They went to the bar and sat down next to Schmidt, Jess, and Coach, while Nick worked. Nick came over with all their drinks and set down them in front of them.

"Beers and two rose." Nick said and set down to pink wines and front of the Jess and Bella and gave the guys all beers.

"Pink wine makes me slutty." Jess said then took a big sip of her drink.

"Whoa, cute guy alert." Jess said then started moving her glasses around making weird sounds.

"Okay, Jess, game time. Let's do this. You want to forget about Spencer, you're gonna have to do some very, very bad things with that man right over there." Schmidt pointed to the guy she said was cute.

"How bad?" She asked.

"Real bad, Jess. Real bad." Schmidt shook his head.

"Like a make out sesh, no tops?" Jess asked him making him raise his eyebrows.

"Okay, this is what's gonna happen. You're gonna go over there and you're gonna stand next to him and you're gonna smile." Bella told her and Jess gave her a weird smile.

"You're not gonna smile like that." Bella told her and she gave her another weird smile.

"You look like a hungry badger." Schmidt commented and she gave another weird smile.

"Stop that." Coach told her.

"Okay, I got this, I got this." Jess stood up.

"You got it. Just go make it happen." Schmidt told her.

"Game on! Grind it out! Grind it out!" Coach cheered her on as she walked over to the guy.

"Go do it!" Schmidt told her.

They watched her walk over to the guy then look at him and lean towards him putting her hands on her hips.

"Hey, Sailor." She said to him

"Oh, all right." Coach watched.

"All right." Theo looked down at his beer.

"That okay. Maybe he didn't hear that." Coach clapped his hands.

"You can come back from it." Schmidt told her.

"Holy Schmidt! It's Schmidt!" Some guy said walking up to them.

"Oh, it's all about the Benjamin! What's up?" Schmidt asked bro hugging him.

"That's right." Benjamin laughed.

"What's up, man?" Ben asked

"All right. P-Funk, what's up, dude? This is Coach, Theodore, and Bella." Schmidt pointed at the three other people beside him.

"Whats up, guys?" Ben asked them and none of them said anything, He looked down at Bella giving her a suggestive look and she tucked herself into Theo's side making him put his arm around her waist making Ben look at Theo.

"You like parties?" Ben asked making Coach shake his head.

"Don't talk to us." Coach told him.

"Yeah, okay." Ben said then Coach, Theo, and Bella all walked away.

"God, creep. Why is Schmidt friends with the weirdest people?" Bella asked

"He ain't actually friends with them. He just wants to be liked so he acts like it." Theo shook his head as they sat at the bar where Nick and Coach watched Schmidt try to fit in and fail before he walked over to them at the bar.

"Nick, please." Schmidt said sitting down.

"Why are you friends with those guys?" Nick asked him.

"Nick, please get me in that party. I'm begging you, please." Schmidt begged.

"No, I'm not calling Caroline." Nick shook his head.

"Do you know what a cute cowboy I am? Do you have any idea?" Schmidt asked making Nick turn and go back to work and Coach get up and walk away.

"Your really stealing our cowboy and cowgirl idea?" Bella asked him

"Yes, do you know what a cute cowboy I am?" He asked her making her get up and walk away.

A while later Coach, Schmidt, Bella, and Theo were all sat at the bar watching Jess flirt with Peter otherwise known as P-funk, as Schmidt called him.

"She's doing all right, hmm?" Coach asked as they watched Jess laugh at whatever Peter said.

"Schmidt stain! Hey, man, I was thinking, it's probably better that you don't come to the party. That means more breast for me." Ben walked over giving a weird girly laugh.

"You better step down, son. You're taking this thing way to far. I'm ser- hold me back, Coach, Theo. I'm seri- Hold me back. Hold me back! Coach, Theo, would one of you please hold me back?" Schmidt turned to them when neither got up to hold him back.

"No." Coach and Theo said in sink.

"Schmidt were going to the party, relax." Nick came up to them.

"Nice, see you there, Schmitty." Ben clapped his shoulder walking away as Schmidt let out a laugh.

"Totally, broseph." Schmidt said before looking over at Nick with a shocked face.

"Yeah, I texted Caroline." Nick said wiping his hands with a napkin.

"You texted Caroline?" Theo asked.

"It's not big deal. It's behind me. It's in the past, so..." Nick shrugged.

"Thank you. I love you, bro." Schmidt said pulling Nick across the bar to hug him.

"Yeah, there it is." Nick tapped his back making a face.

"Did you just kiss my arm a little?" Nick asked him pointing at his arm as Schmidt nodded his head.

"You bet I did. It felt right." Schmidt nodded his head before Jess and Peter walked over to them.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow, Sailor." Peter told her before turning and walking away.

"Yeah, cool. Call... cool." Jess tried to be cool about it.

"What's happening tomorrow, Sailor?" Nick asked leaning against the bar.

"You know what? You guys were totally right. I talk in short sentences, I didn't sing, I laughed, I smiled, I said I needed rebound sex, and it totally worked. He asked me out. Dinner! With food. Ooh! Ooh!" Jess sung the last part, while 'raising the roof' with her hands.

"I'm so proud of you." Schmidt hugged her.

"You got it, girl. You did good. Yeah, you put it diz-out!" Coach said high fiving her.

"Awesome job!" Bella gave her a high five next.

"It's Jess, she's on fire." Jess sung before turning and walking away dancing making them all groan at the horrible dance moves.

"All right, should we tell her?" Nick asked as they all watched her walk away.

"I think we let her have her moment." Schmidt waved her off.

Bella and Theodore walked into the guys apartment to find Coach, Schmidt, and Nick all sat on the coach in front of girl, who just stared at them.

"Ahem, what's going on?" Bella cleared her throat grabbing their attention, "Hi, I'm Bella, this is Theodore, but we call him Theo." Bella pointed at Theo who sat down by Nick as Bella shook the girls hand.

"Hi, CeCe. Jess's friend." The girl said and Bella smiled.

"Awesome! Glad we get to meet some of her friends!"

"Do the shoes fit, Jess?" CeCe called out to Jess, who was in her room getting ready, they heard walking then a thud.

"I'm okay." Jess called as Bella sat down beside Theodore, pulling her phone out.

"What, are you a model or something?" Coach asked CeCe.

"Yeah. Yes. Mostly print right now, So....." CeCe nodded her head.

"What is it, CeCe?" Schmidt asked smiling, "Cecilia? Checilia? Tell me, what are you're hopes in dreams? You know, are you warm? I'm a little warm right now." Schmidt said and he sat up taking his shirt off.

"Don't Schmidt." Nick told him.

"All right. Oh, yeah. There it is." Schmidt said pumping his chest out before sititng back down.

"Please put your shirt back on. Please don't make me laugh at you." CeCe told him.

"I agree, nobody, I mean nobody wants to see that." Bella shook her head.

"Can I hit you up with some tea? A little herb tea? Oh, my god. How good is that? For real? What? Little p-mint tea? Yum, right? Hot, sweet. Little tea bag action. And, I wasn't.. I wasn't talking about..." Schmidt chuckled as they all stared at him disgusted.

"There it is. Douchebag." Nick said grabbing the douchebag jar.

"Listen to me, you guys. Jess is by far the best person that I know, so, if you guys let anything happen to her, I'm gonna come here and carzy murder you." CeCe told them and they all nodded their heads.

"I'm gonna be honest with you. I did not hear a word that you just said, 'cause I can kind of see your party hats right now." Schmit continued you on.

"There you go." Theo said grabbing the douchebag jar this time.

"Jess!" CeCe stood up and went to her room

"Why are you talking like this?" Nick asked him and Schmidt just stared at him.

While CeCe helped Jess the rest of them got on with their normal task. Theo and Bella sat on the guy's couch watching tv when CeCe walked out of the room in coverall and a t-shirt then after CeCe waved her in Jess walked in, in CeCe's dress with her hair up and a handbag, and black high heels looking beautiful.

"Wow!" Coach looked her up and down and she shrugged.

"Thanks, Coach." Jess smiled and the room went quite before Jess started dancing and beatboxing.

"And then she does that." Schmidt said setting down his tablet. Bella leaned forward grabbing a small pebble and threw it out him.

"I'm gonna text him, tell him I'm headed over." Jess said pulling her phone out of her bag.

"Wait. Have you been texting him?" Nick asked.

"Is that bad?" Jess asked slightly worried.

"No. It's nice. Have a good night." Nick smiled and nodded his head slightly at her.

"This is gonna be great." Jess smiled

After Jess and CeCe lefted they all dressed up for the party and headed that way. As they walked through the people to the line they argued over all the costumes.

"Coach, you don't look anything like an Indian." Schmidt said as Bella grumbled.

"As least he didn't copy some else outfit." She grumbled. She wore a pair of dark wash boot cut jeans, with cowgirl boots, and blue button up shirt, and a cow girl hat. Theo wore dark wash boot cut jeans as well, with a white button up, cowboy boots, and a cowboy hat.

"Look, man, I got your back. You got to have mine, too." Coach told schmidt ignoring Bella.

"Coach, Me and Theo got your back." Nick told him.

"No, I want to hear it from him." Coach told him as they stopped at the front of the line and Nick walked away to go talk to Caroline.

"Coach, what sort of Indian wears bike shorts?" Schmidt asked and Coach rolled his eyes.

"I can't believe he stole our costume. So many other things he could have been but no.. he picked the same thing as us. This is bullshit." Bella grumbled as Theo smiled at her.

"You're cute when you're mad."

"Oh, come on, he doesn't even look as real as we do. He looks like a fool." Bella continued on ignoring Theo who just shook his head.

"Hey, Nick!" They heard someone and saw Caroline call Nick over from where he talked to some bouncer.

They watched him walk over to her and talk to her for a second before they heard a familiar voice.

"Get along, little doggy." They heard Ben say and turned to find him and p-funk walking up to them.

"Well, howdy there, muchachos." Ben walked over saying as they looked at P-funk confused.

"Hey, where's Jess?" Nick asked walking over.

"Oh, dude, she texted me seven times. Like, long ones. I just wanted to hook up." P-funk told them shrugging.

"So, is she waiting for you to show up, or did you call her?" Theo asked him and he laughed.

"Yea, that's what I did. I called her." P-funk and Ben walked away laughing and they all stood there watching them walk in laughing.

"Nick?" They heard Caroline call for him, "Want to get that drink?" She asked him.

"No.I got to go help a friend, Caroline." Nick said and turned and walked away. Coach, Theo, and Bella all walked away with him while Schmidt tried to stop them.

"No,no,no,no. Guys, this is the party of the year, you guys. This is our night. This is our night!" Schmidt continued to try and stop but they all kept walking.

"We're going with Nick, man. You coming?" Coach asked him as they all kept walking.

"I thought you guys were my boys!" He yelled after them.

"My boys is not a thing, schmidt. Stop." Nick said and then they ran off to the car.

"We're coming, Jess!" Coach yelled.

Not much longer later Schmidt eventually did catch up with them on thier way to restaurant. They ran in and yelled getting everyone's attention.

"We're here!" Nick yelled

"Yup, were here!" Coach yelled after as they walked over to Jess's table.

"You're all on a date?" The waiter asked.

"Yeah. We, uh... we're her boyfriends and one girlfriend. We are reversed mormons. One man didn't seem to be enough, neither did fou so we tried girls." Nick explained to the waiter as they all nodded behind him.

"Okay." The waiter walked away from them as they huddled around the table.

"Jess, that guy was a jerk." Bella told her and smiled as the rest agreed.

"He was a clown." Nick concluded.

"You guys missed your party to come here and... see me?" Jess asked as tears filled her eyes.

"Yea...we, uh.. care about you. We like you." Nick nodded his head as she started to wipe her eyes with her napkin.

"That's so nice." She sobbed.

"What is that?"

"Don't start crying."

"Come on."

"It's cool. It's very, very cool." Jess nodded her head as they all spoke up.

"Come on, Jess."

"Please."

"Stop it!" Coach yelled pointing his finger at her.

"Coach." Bella slightly shoved him

"Alright." He hung his head.

"It's okay. Hey. Don't cry. For I've had The time of my life." Nick started singing.

"What is he doing?" Coach asked.

"And I've never felt this way before. Yes, it's true. Nah, nah,nah,nah,nah, and something." Nick reached out and hit Coach to get him start singing.

"Something. Something. Oh, those bears in my house. And if the song that makes you really, really happy." Nick and Coach both sang as they rest of them stood their awkwardly.

"I'm not participatiing in this." Shcmidt shook his head before Nick hit him.

"Just remember you're the one thing. I can't get enough of." Schmidt started to add and all three men stood their singing off key and different lyrics for Jess.

"I've had the time of my life And I owe it all to you." They all sang together before the waiter quickly walked over.

"Hey! You have to leave now, all of you." The waiter told them and they nodded their heads as they made their way out of the restaurant.

#new girl

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karlyanalora · 5 days ago

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That reminds me how this year, the Saturday before Memorial Day we noticed a lump on Smeagol's (indoor cat) that had a scab on it. It was a puncture wound, we think. Plans were to call the vet on Tuesday.

Sunday, right before church, the lump burst, and Smeagol proceeded to get blood all over the house and hide under the shelves in the storage room. He was yowling the most pitifully he had in his life, and the wound just kept dripping blood.

So then we had to play the game of "This is bad, but we don't know how bad, so let's call the vets in the family."

Vets in the family said that active bleeding meant it had to be seen today. Thankfully, by the time we were able to call an emergency vet, the wound had stopped bleeding. We got an urgent care visit scheduled for that evening and Smeagol got an antibiotic shot. The vet said it could have waited until Tuesday, but with bleeding you never can tell.

And ofc none of this could have started on a Friday and it had to be a three day weekend.

Dumb cats.

The cat (Tim) waited until after the vet had closed to make it clear to us that he has a sore spot on his back, which on closer inspection (accompanied by a great deal of yowling and attempted scratching) is almost certainly a cat bite that's become infected and has just opened up

So I guess we'll be dropping our other plans and calling the vet first thing tomorrow so we can get him some antibiotics

It's had a surface cleaning with salt water for the time being but cat bites go deep and I doubt the water managed to penetrate any deeper than surface level

#anyway good luck with the kitty feltpool #added something

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lightdancer1 · 3 years ago

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To expand a bit further on why the 'Zuko as the Chosen one concept' offends at both a moral and a literary level

The lesser important element of the literary element in this case comes first. Specifically there's already a Messiah literally right there in the setting. The uh, title character. Who is the sole survivor of a genocide to eradicate his people. There is no need to add a second such character, because Aang already covers every single possible niche you need. It literally shoehorns out the title character for a supporting character who took three and a half seasons to decide "OK fine, fuck it, I'm done with the villain bullshit."

And that leads straight to the moral element. it says that the character who is a descendant of the people who perpetrated the massacres, who spends most of his arc locked into agreeing with the successors to the perpetrators as the voices of goodness and rightness in the world, deserves this status more than the cultures who were targeted by it. It centralizes the society that literally spends the entire setting being the bad guys as the ones who get not a punishment on a cosmic scale but a REWARD.

In all truth for all that I like my spirits as incomprehensible eldritch monstrosities this is more truly a cosmic horror story than anything that I would write. It says that Gods existed, always had the power to intervene, and chose to skip over the Water Tribes and the Air Nation because fuck 'em but enter the Chucke Tingle Awkward Turtleduck and suddenly 'oh no you precious kid, must protect the precious, yes Smeagol.

In those universes anyone who isn't Zuko or those most predisposed to think well of him would have good reasons to opt for 'God exists and is evil, so let's decide to collectively throw God off a cliff and see how he likes it' regardless. Especially that 99% of the world outside Zuko's intimate circle.

It is the literal ultimate form of protagonist-centered morality, where the literal equivalent of moral arbiters in-universe explicitly sanction it. And if the cosmic paragon that made God finally go 'oh now they've gone too far' is the spiteful season 1 Zuko, then that world is even more fucked than the one in Ghostbusters that has to rely on the cast of Saturday Night Live to banish Cthulhu whenever he gets cranky because he slept wrong.

#lightdancer goes a venting #zuko is not the center of the universe #Zuko doesn't need to crowd Aang out of his spot even more than he already does #The Fire Nation are the bad guys #bad guys do not usually get a cosmic reward for not merely one genocide but TWO #and if the Fire Nation God can intervene where's everyone else's gods #other than Tui and La who get shanked by Zhao for insult to injury?

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keelywolfe · 3 years ago

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FIC: Knick Knack Paddy Whack (BAON)

Summary: As far as Stretch is concerned, there's only one solution when you're addicted to thrift stores. Selling all the crap you bought so you can buy more!

Notes: Stepping outside of the main storyline for a moment, we'll get back to the aftermath we're all expecting in a moment. 😁

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Domestic Fluff

Part of the ‘by any other name�� series.

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Read it on AO3

Read it here!

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Stretch was a bonafide thrift-a-holic, he honestly was, and he knew it. It was an important thing to know about yourself, really, because certain problems arose from bad case of oooh-shiny-itis.

Sure, one ceramic zombie hand thrusting up from the dresser to hold his rings and change was an awesome thing to behold, but an entire collection of zombie hands was a tough sell to the person you were living with, especially if that person was Edge. Not that he’d managed to find a collection of zombie hands and if he had, that thrift store would have been on the weekly check list, for sure. But the same premise applied to ‘zombie hand plus an entire horde of other bizarre ceramics surrounding it’.

Stretch wasn’t bitter about the limitations when it came to his collection, nah, he got it. There were certain things you couldn’t ask for from the person you love, and a house filled up with weird tchotchkes that looked like they belonged to the grandmother of the chainsaw massacre family was a step too far. Plus, asking Edge for more space would be unfair. He’d either agree because he didn’t want to tell Stretch no, or he’d say no and feel bad about it. Nah, the set of porcelain dragons playing instruments in a rock band he’d found wasn’t that important, not if it gave Edge a case of the guilts.

Problem was, Stretch really couldn’t resist sometimes. How was he supposed to turn away a wedding painting of Yoda and Kermit the frog? Or a coffee mug with a penguin orgy on it? He couldn’t, that’s how, but his allotted space was filling up in the house proper and soon he’d started to amass quite the collection in his lab, too. It was when the overflow expanded enough to start infringing on his erlenmeyer flasks that he decided he needed a new strategy. Science waited for no one and definitely not anything with the word ‘taxidermy’ included.

That’s when Stretch came up with the plan. Okay, it wasn’t a plan, exactly, more like a flash in the pants of brief inspiration, but hell, he’d been flying by on those his entire life, why stop now?

One of the places he frequented was an antique mall, which was a fancy way of saying one rung on the ladder above actual thrift store, except they rented stalls for people to sell their stuff, so maybe it was more like a glorified garage sale. People carted in their junk for other people to buy and the cashier up front handled all the transactions. Minimal time, minimal effort, that was exactly what he and his kitsch needed, so Stretch went ahead and rented a stall of his own.

The not-exactly-a-plan worked out pretty well. He could buy something at the thrift shop and proudly display it for a while around the house, and then when it came time to replace it with a new find, he’d add it to his stall and whatever money came from it, he donated to the local kid’s charity that the Antique Mall supported. That meant he got in his kicks and joy without looking like a prequel to a Hoarders episode and Edge only had to deal with the octopus tentacle ashtray for a few weeks.

Seriously, it was a win-win all the way around.

A few things did take up permanent residence, of course; he couldn’t give up his zombie hand. But so long as it wasn’t a clown, (clowns were disposed of by Edge immediately and with great prejudice), he was allowed things like his nested Matryoshka dolls of Nicolas Cages for a time.

About once a week he went down to add new things to his stall, mostly during the weekday hours when the buses were on the empty side and he could take up an extra seat with his box of additions. It wasn’t exactly a secret, Andy came along a few times to help, but he never really mentioned it to Edge. Not until today when Stretch realized he’d let things go a little too long and he had some extra boxes to haul down.

Better to take care of it while he was thinking about it, otherwise it tended to turn into an endless cycle of ‘oh, I should do that today’ and him forgetting, but aside from the extra lugging required, it was also Saturday and the bus would be loaded. Hitching a ride would be required, plus a little extra muscle, and his husband was his favorite source for both.

He found Edge in the kitchen, sitting at their temporary table with his laptop and yeah, it was Saturday, time to drag him away from whatever bullshit work he was doing. Stretch put on his best wheedling face and asked, “babe? can you give me a lift today?”

“Of course.” Edge didn’t look up, what a total waste of Stretch’s beguiling charms. His gloved fingertips were soft against the keyboard as he finished whatever he was typing before glancing up at Stretch, and maybe his schmoozing wasn’t entirely wasted; the way Edge closed the lid on his laptop spoke of a guilty conscious for working on his day off. “Where are we going?”

“downtown,” Stretch tucked his hands into his pockets and rocked on his heels. “i need to hit up my junk and disorderly shop.”

That got him a pause, “Your what?”

“heh, you’ll see.” Stretch curled a finger at Edge in a ‘come hither’ motion that his husband didn’t follow, only watched suspiciously. “c’mon, i need you to help me carry some stuff.”

“This ride is starting to sound less like transport and more like a chore.” But Edge followed him to the basement for the boxes, and, surprise surprise, his willingness to help went up a few notches from wary to eager when he figured out what Stretch was doing. Eh, couldn’t blame him. At the top of the pile was a plush frog with the top hat that played ‘hello my baby’ whenever you pushed on its foot, something Red did every single time he walked past it, plus anytime he’d felt like shortcutting in for a quick press. Time to let it damage the sanity of another family.

The boxes were tossed into the trunk of Edge’s car, frog and all, and soon they were on the road, heading downtown. Truth be told, Stretch wasn’t sure what Edge would make of the place. He tolerated thrift stores well enough, but the antique mall was a different kind of beast. An entire building of obscure collections cluttered together into eclectic displays that others were trying to barter and sell.

There were stalls filled with milk crates of old records, shelves and shelves of antique glassware and dishes. Some stalls had vintage clothing, feathery boas mixed in with disco pants and ruffled aprons. Old instruments, rusty farm equipment, strange kitchen gadgets that looked more dangerous than useful, this place had everything and then some.

Plus, the mall had a certain sort of smell, a musty, dusty scent verging on decay that settled into the sinuses and hung around for a while. Stretch thought it was the smell of a life well-lived and he kinda liked it; after years of thrifting, he associated it with finding treasures, but who knew if Edge felt the same. His tastes in smells (heh) ran more to clean and green, not old-timey funk. Could be it reminded him of shower mildew.

Whatever his opinion of the odors, Edge kept it to himself. He helped with the box carrying and checked out Stretch’s stall curiously but didn’t say much. Probably recognized the stuff on the shelves as having once been on a table or Stretch’s nightstand, until the glee wore off and it ended up gathering dust in the basement. He wandered off at some point, heading into the depths of the mall, and left Stretch to restock his meagre wares.

It took longer than he’d expected. Since he’d opened up his stall, not everything Stretch found thrifting found its way into the house proper anymore. Some of it he bought as a straight-to-video option and he was getting pretty good at finding interesting doodads at the thrifty places that might sell better here, location, location, location, that was the ticket.

Stretch always priced his junk reasonably, usually not much more than he’d paid for it. Wasn’t like he needed the money, and besides, Stretch knew himself pretty damn well, therapy did that to a guy. At the end of the day, he knew what this was really about; all an elaborate scheme to satisfy the inner packrat in his soul that struggled sometimes with giving things away.

Bartering had been built in him before he could say the word; in the Underground, he’d gotten damn good at getting deals for what he could scrounge at the dump. This was the same thing, really, just with slightly different stakes. Dinner wasn’t riding on his latest stash of dvds anymore, always a plus, and these days he could simply look at the empty shelves, content in the knowledge that his Smeagol cardboard cutout had found a new home.

Hey, therapy wasn’t the only way to work out a few kinks in your internal lines.

When the last box was emptied, Stretch wandered up to the front desk to give the lady who ran the front register his new inventory list. That was when he heard it.

There was an old piano up front with a sign on it that said, ‘Do not ‘play’ if you cannot play’. Most of the time it sat silently but someone up there was giving it a good try today. The notes were slower, with obvious hesitations as the player searched for the correct keys, but the song was one Stretch knew. Gently melancholy, a match to the cautious playing.

His curiosity piqued, Stretch wandered over to watch and he wasn’t entirely surprised to see Edge sitting on the piano bench, his attention on his hands as he slowly played. It was a tough choice between watching him play and simply listening to the song and Stretch found himself trying to do both. The uncertain skill in hands he knew so well as they coaxed the music free.

When the last note faded, a faint smattering of applause came from the different stalls around them. Stretch waited for it to end before sitting on the bench next to Edge.

Quietly, Stretch said, “i didn’t know you played.”

“I don’t,” Edge said. He smoothed a hand over the keys, not pressing down, simply touching them. “Not really. I can’t read music, but I know a song or two by rote. A friend of mine pushed me to memorize them.”

Welp, Stretch didn’t have to ask what friend, now did he. An old friend back in another world, and people weren’t replaceable even if they wore the same face. He didn’t say anything, didn’t need to; Stretch understood in a way only a few people could, and he settled a hand on Edge’s leg, squeezing his knee gently.

“that was really good,” Stretch offered, “you have a good memory, babe.”

“Some of my memories are better than others,” Edge said. The words were more contemplative than sorrowful, and he didn’t look at Stretch, only touched the back of his hand briefly with his gloved fingertips. “You tend to feature in the best ones, love.”

He reached for the keys again and started to play. The song was more confident this time, bright and cheery, with only the occasional missed note. A handful of other people drifted over, some pausing to watch and some moving on, going about their day with a song to carry them along.

Stretch only tapped his toes and listened as Edge played, more than willing to let him go on until he was ready to stop. If Edge wanted to take a brief dive into the past, then the antique mall was a place for it, where memories and times past mingled with the present.

Besides, a new memory to take home was better than any knickknack.

-fin

Note: The first song Edge was playing was 'Clair de Lune' by Debussy and the second was 'The Entertainer' by Scott Joplin. In case you were wondering. 😁

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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nerdy-bookworm-1998 · 6 years ago

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I’ll always catch you when you fall

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader Words: 1247 Warnings: Death, angst, fluff A/N: I wrote this as @wishingforahome‘s prize in the Lost Easter Egg game(still 2 spots left!) I hope you like what I did with it. The prompt was Peter’s first mission back with the team after the dusting goes a bit rough and reader cheers him up

Growing up as the daughter of the infamous Tony Stark meant that I never had a lot of friends. So when everyone came back after the whole Dusting situation and Dad invited Peter and Aunt May to come to live at the Avengers Tower, well let's just say that I was pretty much over the moon to have another teenager around to talk to.

Thanos had been dead for just over a month and I could see everyone still reeling with the aftershock of undoing all the problems the oversized purple grape had caused. Hell, some days even I couldn't get out of bed, let alone try to save the world, again.

It was a warm and sunny Saturday morning, Peter and I had decided to head over to the compound to make use of the ginormous swimming pool and home theatre that had been installed when the compound was first built. We had planned an entire day for just the two of us. But those plans quickly flew out the window when alarms went off as soon as we set foot in the common room.

Before we could ask Friday what was going on Dad came rushing in, making a beeline for the two of us. "Time to suit up kid, we just got word of an alien hostage situation in Brazil, and we need you with us. Wheels up in twenty," he says to Peter before hurrying away, probably to his lab. Peter looks at me with wide eyes, this would be his first mission since being back and I could see just a hint of fear in his warm brown eyes. I take his hands into my own, keeping my voice as calm and steady as possible. "Everything's gonna be fine Pete, you're gonna do great, I believe in you, babe." I wrap my arms around his waist in a soft hug and kiss his cheek.

Fifteen minutes later I'm standing in the hangar as I watch the team prepare to leave. Dad and Peter walk in together, conversing in low voices, probably already thinking of new upgrades to the suits and weapons. Dad steps over to me first, giving me a tight hug. "Take care of him," I whisper in his ear. He gives me a quick nod and a "take care kiddo," before boarding the jet, leaving me and Peter alone. He wraps his arms around me in a tight bear hug, dropping a kiss on top of my head. "Take care of him, and I love you," I whisper in his ear, squeezing my eyes shut to keep the tears from falling. "I love you too, and I will" he whispers before boarding the jet just in time for takeoff.

The team was gone for most of the day, so I busied myself with baking every and anything I could think of while catching up on episodes of Once Upon A Time on Netflix. It was mid-afternoon when Friday announced that the jet was five minutes out. I raced down to the hangar, reaching it just as the jet touched down and the back door opened. As everyone filed out I could see they were all a little battered and bruised, with a few scrapes here and there, but it was the look in their eyes that told me what I needed to know; it was rough. The last to exit was Peter, his face almost blank if not for the red-rimmed look in his eyes.

As I reached out to touch him, he flinched away and my heart sank. I watched him walk out the door, ignoring the worried look the others gave him as he passed. "This one didn't go so well; something happened but he refuses to talk. Maybe give him some time to himself before you talk to him," Bucky says quietly beside me, I hadn't even noticed him approach. I nod slowly before making my way to my room, I didn't want the others to see my heart breaking because I couldn't help my own boyfriend.

I must have fallen asleep because when I wake the sun had set, bathing my room in a pretty lavender. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," I recognize Wanda's voice by the door as I slowly sit up and get my bearings. "No, it's okay Wanda, come in. What's wrong?" She flashes a brief smile as she crosses the room to sit by my side. "It's Peter, I know why he locked himself in his room. On the mission, there was this girl who looked very much like you, and she got hit by some shrapnel, we couldn't save her, and she died in his arms. The others don't know this, I wouldn't have known either except his thoughts are so loud right now, I couldn't shut him out. He's hurting, y/n, blaming himself for what something that is not his fault. Maybe it would be best if you go talk to him," her voice is soft and tinged with worry.

I lay a comforting hand on her arm and give her a soft smile. "Thank you, sestra, I'll talk to him. In the meantime though, please keep this between us?" "Of course," she nods before leaving. I take a few deep breaths before standing up and going to gather supplies.

Armed with snacks, drinks, and some of the treats I had made earlier, I make my way to Peter's door. Knowing he probably wouldn't let me in, I call out, "Friday, please open the door." With a click, the door opens to reveal a completely dark room. By knowing his room as well as my own, I walk over to his desk and switch on the light, putting down everything in my arms before walking over to his bed.

Peter is curled up on his side with his back facing me. I sit down on the edge of the bed and gently run my hand through his soft curls. After a while, he slowly relaxes and turns to face me. "I'm here sweetheart, I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to tell me what happened, I just want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what. So how about we forget about everything for a while and just be Peter and Y/N?" He gives me a watery smile and a nod. We move all the food to the bed and Peter grabs a blanket for us to cuddle under as I have Friday queue up the Lord of the Rings trilogy on Netflix.

Soon we're both quoting the lines to each other, laughing at the jokes, and at each other as we each try to distract the other with tickles and soft, lazy kisses. As we're waiting for Return of the King to load, Peter turns to me with a serious expression. "Y/N? Thank you. For everything. I honestly don't know what I'd do without you angel." "There's nothing to thank me for, I'll always be there to catch you when you fall, just like I know you'd do for me," I kiss him softly before snuggling back into his arms, "Now hush, I wanna watch Smeagol murder Deagol." At this he lets out a loud laugh, burying his face in my hair. "You're so weird, but that's okay because you're my weirdo," he says before planting a quick peck on my head then snuggling down into the bed for the rest of the movie.

Tags:

@mcdesij @spiderrrling @arrow-guy @interestedbystanderwrites @caplansteverogers @gwendelerynan @lukebalehiddleston @here2have-fun @bvckys-doll @bookscoffeeandracoons @bambamwolf87 @loricameback @rockrchick51 @love-nakamura @moisoverennyi-thestarlessone @wishingforahome @timelordy-fangirl2 @jewelofwinter

#marvel #peter parker x stark!reader #fluff #angst

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fanficsofmine · 7 years ago

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Swipe Right - Jongdae Fluff

Here is our first contribution from our guest writer- my sister, @watermonkey0!! She graciously took this prompt that I started and helped me finish it and make it 200% better than when I started it haha! Hope y’all love it! -T✨

Oh! He’s cute!” Trinity hovered over my shoulder. I swatted at her like she was a mosquito and rolled off her bed with my phone.

“Can I make my own Tinder decisions, please?” I snipped as I propped myself up at the end of her bed. Newly single, I had been adamantly against online dating. But after what felt like a lifetime of nagging on my best friend’s part, she whittled me down and my phone suddenly had four new apps.

“Stop being such a Debbie downer! You’re the one who said you were ready to get back out there.” She swung a pillow wide and smacked me in the back of the head.

“Ow! But this is stupid!” I whined and crumpled to the floor in a pile of pitiful moaning. “I wish I didn’t have to go through the ‘dating’ process again.” I lamented as she peeked over the edge of the bed. “It was nice having a stable boyfriend.”

“A stable boyfriend who treated you like crap.” She muttered.

“Hence the newly single.” I mouthed off, earning a kamikaze pillow to the face. For a short moment, it was okay. I wasn’t lonely, or cold, or bitter. I didn’t need a man when I could cuddle up with this squirrel shaped pillow. I’d sleep under Trin’s bed like a Hobbit and celebrate when she dropped Doritos on the ground…and I ignored the notion that eventually Hobbits turned into Smeagols. But like I said, the moment was short. “But I don’t want to start over!” I wailed as I sat up suddenly, knocking heads with Trinity.

“Ow!” She snickered and retreated as I climbed back up onto the bed.

“Sorry.”

“Look,” she sighed and grabbed my phone, “I know everything that happened was a little intense, but you deserve to be happy. The perfect guy is out there waiting for you, I know it. But you’re going to have to put in the effort. You can’t just skip to the happy ending.” Her thumb swept across the screen a few times, discarding some suitors and matching others. “What about this one?” She held the phone out for me to see and I hiccupped at the frightful picture. There was a mullet involved.

“No!” I cried and grabbed the phone before she could swipe right.

After that, I dutifully picked through the men while Trin watched Family Feud and fed me potato chips. I was nearly about to give up and demand that we break into her emergency stash of wine flavored ice cream when a final face popped up and grinned at me.

“Kim Jongdae. 26 years old. I love to sing and laugh. Swipe right! Don’t be afraid!” I mumbled to myself. The bio was cringe worthy, but he had a bright and honest smile.

“What about—” Trin snatched the phone as I tried to hand it to her. Apparently I couldn’t go fast enough for her ravenous matchmaking.

“He is super cute! And look, he loves to sing! You love music! It’s perfect!” She swiped right before I even had a chance to protest, although with those dimples, how could I refuse? “Oh my god!” She shrieked immediately and shoved the phone in my face. ‘It’s A Match!’ appeared on my screen, meaning he had swiped right on my as well.

“What do I do now?” I cried, flinching when she dropped the phone in my hand.

“Now you message him!” She laughed, but I tossed the phone back to her like a hot potato.

“You message him!”

“No! It’s not my profile!” She served it right back, and we devolved into an extreme game of telephone tennis before my phone chimed an unfamiliar tune.

“What was that?” It dropped between us before Trin grabbed it.

“He messaged you first!”

“What’s it say?” I threw myself into her lap as she opened the notification.

‘So, great news: I too have enough hoodies to call it a collection. But, while Iron Man is cool, Batman is way more badass.’ I read the apparent attempt to relate based on my profile three or four times, not meaning to, but memorizing every word.

“Ugh, he’s a DC kid.” Trin scoffed and relinquished the device.

“But, the fact that he knows…” I defended, blushing.

“Means he’s your kind of nerd, yes I know.” She waved it off, going elbow deep in the Doritos again, leaving me to struggle with my reply. Did I open with a joke? Did I discuss the finer points of the philanthropic playboy superhero? Did I ask about his singing? Did I beg him to keep me company at night when my cat abandoned me?

‘That is great news!’ I typed finally and hit the send button before I lost my nerve. It was a pleasantly neutral response, one I could stand behind should Trin, who was shooting my sidelong glances, say anything. But she kept quiet.

The eternity long seconds it took for him to reply were agonizing, and when the chime finally came again, I had it open before it was even finished.

‘So…Hi :) I’m Jongdae.’ I grinned to myself at his silly emoji. I quickly replied with my name and asked where he was from. ‘I’m from here, born and raised. What about you?’ I said I was as well, and we delved into our surface backstories; not wanting to give away too much because it was still new, but wanting to get a good enough feel as to whether or not to continue. As it turned out, we knew some of the same people, which made me feel a fraction of a bit better.

Not that it mattered really, because…I liked him. He was charming and funny, and not at all pushy. This was a dating app after all, my standards were already exceeded when he hadn’t asked for nudes by the 10th message.

‘So, are you doing anything Friday night?’ The question set butterflies free in my stomach. Was I free? Technically no, I told my mother I’d help her put up her Christmas tree, but Baby Jesus was going to have to wait!

‘I don’t have anything planned.’

‘Would you be up for a completely platonic non-judgmental dinner with a guy you met on Tinder?’

I wondered if maybe I should have waited a few more seconds before I replied, to at least make it seem like I considered it before accepting. But we were passed it now and my, ‘I would like that’ blazed on the screen. He sent me a time and a place, a casual restaurant on my side of town. I’d been there before and knew it had good food. So if he turned out to be a creep after all, at least I’d get decent leftovers out of it. I beamed back up at Trin in triumph, but she only grinned and told me to start planning my DC themed wedding.

The days between then and Friday were peppered with bursts of excitement and anticipation, sprinkled with just a dash of wild abandon. Meet up with a random man who could be an axe murder? Why not! When Thursday rolled around, I was just finalizing the last touches of my outfit in my head when my phone chimed that irresistible tune. Jongdae and I spoke often, every day in fact, always through the app. He was now synonymous with the Tinder ringtone. There was one time it dinged and it wasn’t him. Some random dude I had matched with tried to start something with a ‘Hey’. Psh, like that was ever going to be good enough again. Much to Trinity’s chagrin, I didn’t even open it. If singing Batman fell through, then yes, I’d move on down the list, but I was far too excited for our date tomorrow to entertain anyone else.

I clicked open the message I’d just received with a delighted hum…only for it to come out more like a sob.

‘Hey, I am really sorry. Something’s come up tomorrow. Can we rain check?’

I texted Trinity immediately, telling her we had an emergency meeting, and to bring some wine because I was about to—

‘Can I take you out on Saturday instead?’ I gazed down at my phone unhappily. I wanted to say yes, of course, but I had to work Saturday, and I couldn’t very well blow that off as easily as I had Jesus. Friday was kinda my only free night. I typed in a short response but a text from Trinity interrupted me.

‘Ask him what came up!’ It said, and then was directly followed with, ‘Ask him if it’s worth jeopardizing his Batman themed wedding.’

‘I refuse to have a Batman wedding.’ I shot back. It seemed too invasive to ask why he was cancelling. We weren’t so close that he owed me an explanation, but…I was dying to know.

‘I actually can’t Saturday, work. Can I ask what came up?’ My knees jumped up and down as I waited for his reply. It felt like he was taking an unusually long time to answer and I wondered if I’d just ruined everything by being nosy. What finally chimed in was unexpected:

‘Do you like soccer?’

And this was how I came to find myself, Friday afternoon, sitting in Trinity’s passenger seat, debating every single one of my life choices.

“Sit still, you’re shaking the whole car!” She grabbed my knee as it bounced to still me. We’d come almost an hour early to scope out the target and it was making me a nervous wreck. His request had been odd: meet him at a crowded sports complex. Trinity thought it was cute, but I was more worried that he was going to ask my uncoordinated ass to play soccer with him.

“It’s just running!” She argued.

“Do you not remember what happened the last time I ran the mile?” I paled at the memory of falling flat on my face.

“Okay, so maybe you should cheer from the bleachers?” She chuckled unapologetically. “Oh wait! Oh my god! That’s him! Is that him?” She smacked at me repeatedly before pointing at a sleek black sedan that was sliding into a spot a row over. Sure enough, a familiar face stepped out of the driver’s seat. He wore nice jeans, a slim leather jacket, and a fluffy cowl scarf. He opened the back door to grab a gym bag before locking up and heading inside.

“That’s probably his murder kit.” Trinity joked but I rolled my eyes.

“Just be here by 8:00 to pick me up.” I told her and climbed out.

“Ha! We’ll see.” She replied humorlessly before speeding off, leaving me with no alternative but to go inside. Trin’s car had been nice and warm, and now as I shivered in the sudden cold, I realized that I left my coat in her back seat. Frustrated, I turned tail and marching into the main building where I had seen Jongdae go. It would be fine. It was only December.

Through the sliding glass doors, I could see Jongdae’s back standing in the line at the concession stand. The murder kit was nowhere to be seen, but he had a nervous energy about him. I moved closer and was about to say his name when a man around our age joined him in line. I was near enough to hear their conversation and it seemed too good an opportunity to pass up.

“There you are, what took you so long?” The man asked. Jongdae turned to him shyly and I saw his ears turn pink.

“I couldn’t decide what to wear.”

“Oh that’s right, that girl is coming…the one you met on Tinder.” He said disapprovingly. I scowled openly at his distaste. Maybe he should try finding love in this day and age.

“Come on, it’s not like that. She’s smart and beautiful.” Jongdae listed and I felt my own ears go pink.

“And bold apparently.”

“You didn’t exactly ask if I had any plans before you signed me up for this.” Jongdae snickered.

“Sorry not sorry.” The man shrugged flagrantly.

“She was nice enough to compromise with me.”

“Where is she anyway?” The man asked and I hunkered down, just in case he glanced around and saw me leering at them.

“I told her to meet here at 6:00, so she should be here any minute.” Jongdae pulled out his phone.

“If she’s still coming, that is.” The man teased, poking Dae in the chest, who scoffed and smacked his hand away.

“Don’t jinx me. You know my luck is—” Suddenly, my phone rang loudly, and I haphazardly tried to silence it before…

The two men glanced back and Jongdae caught my eye. “—not as bad as mine apparently.” I muttered.

The air was cold as I sat on my hands in the bleachers. Stupid phone, stupid mouth, stupid gaping. When Jongdae saw me standing there like an idiot, I was caught off guard by just how gorgeous he was. His pictures did absolutely no justice to his soft features, or his bright smile. If I hadn’t been struck dumb by the sight of him, I could have played the whole thing off, like I simply hadn’t seen them. But by the way I was staring, it was pretty obvious I knew who he was. He had politely greeted me, and we stepped out of line.

“I uhh…I’m sorry—” I started but he waved it off.

“No it’s fine. You’re early!” His grin was genuine and it blinded me every time he flashed it in my direction. “Anyway, thank you for meeting me here. I know it’s probably not what you had in mind but…”

“Please tell me we’re not here to play soccer!” I blurted out before he finished. His eyebrows shot up in surprise before he let out an adorable laugh.

“No! Do you see the shoes I have on? I’d fall on my face!” He beamed. That alone made me feel better about myself, when the man who’d stayed in the line reappeared with an armful of food.

“Here, hold this.” He said as he tossed me ten boxes of Cracker Jacks.

“Hyung, don’t make her carry stuff!” Jongdae whined, and I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Brothers, I should have known.

“We need all the help we can get.” The older man said as he juggled a stack of Nacho trays.

“I don’t mind.” I added quickly, and Jongdae seemed to accept it, sighing as the three of us headed for an arena. The complex was large enough to have indoor fields, and I assumed that was where we would go, but instead, Jongdae guided us outside to a field covered in children. He must have seen my confusion because he rearranged the Hotdogs in his hands to gesture for me to follow.

“So, it’s my nephew’s first game. Jongyul wanted to make a good first impression with the other parents, so he volunteered to get the food.” Everything made a bit more sense now as I saw Jongyul—the brother—happily pass out the food to a green team of hungry kids.

“Which one is your nephew?” I asked as other parents came to help us with our loads. A group of boys dashed by and Jongdae snatched one up. The little boy squealed in delight as his uncle tickled him.

“This little monster!” Jongdae growled playfully, before setting him down and telling him to introduce himself.

“My name is Junseo!” The boy announced. I happily bent down to his level and told him it was very nice to meet him. I did conveniently leave out the part where I was on a trial date with his uncle, though.

“How old are you?” I asked.

“Five!” He shined, and held up his hand to show me proudly.

“Wow! And you’re already on a sports team? You must be really good!” I charmed. The same gaggle of kids from before came back around for another pass and Junseo joined them, waving goodbye to me. I waved back. As I turned, I caught Jongdae’s eye. He seemed to have been looking at me rather deeply, but he quickly cleared his throat and gestured towards our seats.

And now I sat on my hands between a platoon of parents and a beautiful boy in leather. I would have been perfectly content to shiver all day, because there was just too much unbridled joy around for me to be miserable, but Jongdae caught my shaking. He stood and shrugged out of his jacket, then draped it over my shoulders. I was instantly overwhelmed by the smell of him—fresh aftershave with a hint of peppermint. He smelled like Christmas. His jacket was big on me and still wonderfully warm from his broad back.

“But won’t you get cold?” I asked even as I pushed my arms through the sleeves.

He wasn’t getting it back.

“I should have told you to bring a coat, sorry. Don’t worry about me.” He assured me sheepishly, like the winter weather and my forgetfulness were both his fault. “Jongyul!” He called abruptly to his brother who was a row down and a few seats over. The man stood at his name and the two started to signal to each other in some forbidden brotherly language. A moment later, the gym bag was sailing through the air. Dae caught it easily and sat back down to open it.

“Oh, the murder kit.” I recalled and he stopped what he was doing to give me a weird look.

“The what?”

“It’s the bag where you keep all the stuff you murder your dates with.” I snorted, silently hoping he hadn’t actually been offended. It took him a moment, but then he chuckled.

“Nah, I left that one in the car. It’s heavy.” He winked. “This one—” He unzipped the bag and whipped out a fluffy yellow blanket, “—is what I use to woo the ladies.”

“Oh goodness,” I feigned, fanning myself dramatically, “I am wooed.” He leaned over and tucked the blanket over my lap, and then paused, as if debating. After a second, he’d decided and he sat back down, securing the cover over me alone. I stared hard at my tucked legs, not believing that he’d opt out intentionally. Surely he wasn’t going to—

He shivered. He tried his best to hide it, but I was hyper aware of him. With a theatrical sigh to make it less awkward, I pulled the blanket free and laid it over his legs as well. He sat still as a statue as my fingers accidentally brushed over the top of his thighs.

“I am wooed.” He whispered to himself. I probably wouldn’t have heard it if I wasn’t hanging over him, tucking him into the blanket burrito. Trying not to make a big deal out of the fact that I had, I slid back into my seat and curled myself into his jacket.

In the safety of his inner lining, I checked my phone. Just a text from my mother, wondering when I was going to decorate her tree for her. I typed a quick message to Trinity, telling her to be late. Knowing her, she was going to show up right on time only now that I’d asked her not to.

By the time the game was coming to an end, the sky was darkening, and the temperature was dropping. I don’t think Junseo won, but they were five year olds. It was more herding them from one side of the field to the other than any goals being scored. The heat emitting from Jongdae was exhausting, as I refused to let myself relax for even a second. He was too fun, too inviting for me to let my guard down. The whistle blew on the final play and I let out a sigh of relief. It wasn’t a ‘great it’s finally over’ feeling. It was more of a ‘if I don’t get out of here I’m going to jump him in front of all these children’ vibe. I expected him to move or get up to gather his things, but he was as still as I had been.

“Thank you again for coming.” He said suddenly. “I know it wasn’t really a date or anything…” He trailed off and I saw the tips of his ears go pink again. But that could have been from the cold.

”What more could a girl ask for than Cracker Jacks and kiddie sports?” I shook my popcorn box at him, making him smirk.

Do you need a ride home?” He asked next, but his words were at odds with his posture. He wasn’t getting ready to go or making any indication he was going to uproot himself. Did that mean I shouldn’t either?

“Is this it?” I asked, puzzled. Maybe he was giving me a chance to run before he went for the murder kit, or—the worse of the options—he didn’t like me and was trying to get rid of me.

He jumped to his feet at my question, breaking the seal of the blanket. “That came out wrong,” He grimaced, “I wasn’t trying to…what I meant was…” The pink in his ears started to spread across his face the longer I stared at him, more than willing to wait for an answer. He took a breath before explaining, “I just wasn’t sure if you wanted me to take you home. I can, I will, I would love to, but we would have to go like right now because I have to be back for the viewing to pass out the—”

“The viewing?” I interrupted.

“Oh, yeah. The complex shows movies after all the games are over for the kids.”

“Outside?” I cried. “But it’s freezing!” I glanced around at the other groups of people, realizing that they had dressed for the occasion. Mothers were in full length winter coats, fathers were bundled in long scarves, and one little boy was even wearing snow boots.

“It’s kind of a tradition.” Dae said, but the cold was getting to him. Out from under the safety of the blanket, I saw him rub his hands together and glance at the warm seat he’d jumped out of.

“Oh man, now I really wish I would have grabbed my coat.” I muttered and bit my lip. Should I call Trinity and ask her to bring it? She was on her way already, wasn’t she? No, because I’d asked her to run late. I sighed.

“Do you want to stay?” Jongdae asked, like the thought hadn’t even occurred to him before this very moment.

“Do I look like I want to leave?” I returned, a little flabbergasted. So what if I had been trying to control myself all night? That was for the children’s sake.

“Even though I brought you to a kiddie soccer game on our first date?” His smile was growing the more he spoke, and I’m sure I was matching it.

“I thought you said it wasn’t a date.” I teased. He squeezed his eyes tight for a moment before leaping forward, grabbing my head and planting a kiss on my forehead.

Then he was off— “Stay right there! I’ll be right back!” He sang as he took the stairs two at a time up the bleachers back into the building. Dazed, I reached up and touched the spot where his lips had touched me. Resisting was a lost cause, I realized. I was going to date this kid and I was going to enjoy every single second of it.

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woodworkingpastor · 4 years ago

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Things that make for peace Luke 19:29-44 Sunday, March 28, 2021 Palm Sunday

Please pray with me:

Almighty and everliving God, in your tender love for the human race you sent your Son our Savior Jesus Christ to take upon him our nature, and to suffer death upon the cross, giving us the example of his great humility. Mercifully grant that we may walk in the way of his suffering, and also share in his resurrection; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

When our children were little, Lynette and I read to them nearly ever day. We started out with age-appropriate books for babies and toddlers, before moving up into chapter books: The Chronicles of Narnia, Nancy Drew, The Phantom Toolbooth, and the entire Harry Potterseries. If you’ve ever read regularly to young children, you know that they don’t mind having the same story read to them over and over again. You also know that, as a parent, that gets kind of old. So I would try to do things to “liven it up” a bit. Sometimes I’d give the characters voices, other times I’d mis-read the story to see if they were paying attention.

I don’t know about your kids, but my kids hated that. When I’d add voices, they’d say, “Dad, read it right.” And one night, Rose took the story book to Lynette and asked her to read; I’d been mis-reading it too much for her liking and she told Lynette, “Daddy doesn’t know how to read it.”

This is not unrelated to how preachers feel at Christmas and Easter. We’ve preached these texts so many times that we look at these events that are crucial to our faith and kind of scratch our heads and say, “How do we tell the story this year.” I finally decided that I wasn’t going to worry about it; one lesson we can learn from our children is that there is value in telling the story over and over again. I didn’t just pull an old sermon out of the file, but I decided to be less concerned with possibly repeating myself.

Staying with this theme of things that are important to children, I’m curious to know how many of you have been to the Grandin Holiday Parade recently? If you’ve been to it, you know that parade is the coolest, quirkiest, family-focused parade ever. Right in the heart of Roanoke we have what is essentially a small-town parade, complete with Boy Scout and Girl Scout troops, someone from 7-Eleven dressed up in a Slurpee costume, Brandon from Pops Ice Cream playing the bagpipes, preschool groups, greyhound rescue groups—it’s a fantastic event. The most fun I’ve ever had at a parade was the year Zach and I marched with the Cub Scouts, and Zach and I rode our unicycles.

If you’ve seen the parade, then you know that the Kazim clowns are always in it with their cars and their various hijinks and comedy acts. Get a picture of the Kazim clowns in your head for a moment. Now ask yourself, what would the Kazim clowns look like if they had airplanes instead of cars?

Hang on to that picture and follow me in your mind to the opening of Super Bowl 55. Eric Church and Jazmine Sullivan sang the National Anthem, and then there was a military fly-over. This year—because it was Super Bowl 55—the fly-over included a B-1, a B-2, and a B-52, because the numbers add up to 55. But imagine how the crowd would have reacted if, as the last notes of the National Anthem were being sung, the military fly-over would have been handled by the Kazim clowns.

If you can see that—and how people might react to it—then you have a better picture of what actually happened at Jesus’ “Triumphal entry” into Jerusalem. This is another of those cases where what we think is happening in the story is different from what is actually happening. Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem tells a story about what God is doing in the world, and it is a different story that the one the world tells. You see, Jesus wasn’t the only person of power showing up in Jerusalem that week. King Herod was coming to town, too, and Herod would have had his own parade. When earthly rulers enter a town, it is intended to show off their power. For Herod, this would have meant riding in on a powerful war horse, surrounded by elite troops. Their entry is designed to demonstrate who is in control, and it is designed to intimidate any troublemakers along the way with a not-so-subtle message of “if you want to take us on, go ahead and try.”

If you remember the victory parade at the end of Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, celebrating the liberation of Naboo, you see what military parades are about. It’s the same with the military fly-overs at the Super Bowl—they are about establishing how evil will be conquered.

But Jesus doesn’t enter Jerusalem that way. Jesus is telling God’s story, and in God’s story the Savior comes in weakness, riding into town on a young donkey. It’s a story that was first told by the Old Testament prophet Zechariah; Jesus is just filling a role here, and it’s a role designed to be attention-getting; it’s the Kazim clowns showing up to declare the victory of God. And if you’re having trouble wrapping your minds around that—if you’re like Rose that one night at our house and want someone else to tell you the story because you don’t think I’m telling it right—think back to what Luke has been telling us since the Sunday before Christmas. It’s Mary’s song all over again:

He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty (Luke 1:51-53).

Have we not heard Luke tell us this story over and over again?

It’s the Rich man and Lazarus—whose life is vindicated? Lazarus, the poor beggar at the gate who probably starved to death just a few yards away from a sumptuous feast.

It’s Zacchaeus, the despised local villain, who demonstrates his salvation by giving back what he’s stolen because he loves God more than his earthly position.

It’s the Prodigal Son dragging himself back home on the outside chance that he can be hired on a seasonal help only to find that his father has been waiting for him the entire time.

Jesus is proclaiming a kingdom where the last shall be first and the least shall be the greatest, where the worst of sinners are welcomed guests at the banquet of God. This is what Jesus will be about.

The people that go to the Grandin Holiday parade understand what is happening and they enjoy it; it’s fun to stand alongside Grandin Road on the Saturday before Thanksgiving and see all children and civic groups march by. And in one sense, the parade probably doesn’t accomplish all that much—except to help us celebrate things we find important. Just that! Amidst all the children’s groups and middle and high school marching bands and clowns and characters, the parade affirms what we love about the place we live.

The crowd that is on the side of the road at Jesus’ parade understands this, so they throw their cloaks down on the road in front of him. They lift Jesus up and declare him to be their Lord with the chorus of Psalm 118,

Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest heaven!

Psalm 118 is a somewhat complicated Psalm that acknowledges a time when God’s people had been in trouble and God rescued them. So, of course, the people celebrate. The thing is, not everyone got it. Some people missed the meaning of what God was doing; as the Psalmist says,

The stone that the builders rejected has become the chief cornerstone. (Psalm 118:22)

Not everyone gets it in our day, either.

Palm Sunday is one of those tradition-rich holidays that brings back memories—possibly of robed children’s choir processing into the sanctuary, then taking their place at the front of the church to sing. But this isn’t where Jesus’ parade ends up. Jesus’ parade route brings him to an overlook where he can see all of the city of Jerusalem; seeing this, he begins to weep because the people’s inability to know the things that make for peace is killing them. This is where we begin to realize that the story Jesus is telling is different from the story we think we want to hear; the events of Holy Week are God retelling the foundational story of our existence as human beings.

To understand the story, we have to go all the way back to creation and see where things went wrong. We need to go back to the Cain and Abel story and see Cain take his anger and disappointment that God did not accept his offering and vent that frustration on his brother, Abel, killing him. We need to hear Cain say to God, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” Yes, Cain, you are. But Cain missed that because wired deep within us is this belief that violence is the only tried and true method to get what we want in life. It’s the basic story of humanity, and it’s a story that works its way into the stories we tell:

J.R.R. Tolkein told a story about two friends: Deagol and Smeagol. Deagol has a ring, and Smeagol covets it and asks Deagol if he can have it because it’s his birthday. Deagol refuses, and Smeagol kills him. That deed haunts Smeagol for the remainder of his life and transforms him into the pathetic creature known as Gollum.

Anakin Skywalker is consumed with the fear that he will lose his beloved Padme in the same way that he could not protect his mother Shmi. That fear twists him into giving into the dark side of the force, where he becomes the evil Darth Vader.

This story finds it’s way into our own believing the “good guy with a gun” mythology, where we believe that by carrying a gun with us we’ll be ready to overcome the despicable violence of our enemies with our own redemptive violence.

But Jesus knows this way of thinking is killing us. He sees what will happen if his people continue to believe that they can throw off the Roman government through force—an idea that will become incredibly important on Good Friday, when the people choose Barabbas over Jesus.

Jesus knows that the only way to peace is to eliminate our enemies. The issue becomes how. How do we eliminate our enemies?

Love them and pray for them: “But I say to you, ‘Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you’” (Matthew 5:44).

Bless them. “Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave room for the wrath of God; for it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.’ No, ‘if your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink; for by doing this you will heap burning coals on their heads.’ Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” (Romans 12:19-21).

This is the story Jesus is retelling on Holy Week. And one of the reasons he can retell the story this way is because this is how God has responded to us:

For if, when we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life! (Romans 5:10).

The story that Jesus is retelling is how God eliminated us as enemies through Jesus’ sacrificial death on the cross. It can be a difficult story to hear because what we prefer is for God to come along and bless our thoughts, our dreams, our plans for how we will get along in the world. But do not be confused: just because Jesus is leading a parade does not mean that Jesus will be our mascot, something to prop up and celebrate our plans and schemes. The crowd gets it right when they sing “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord.” Jesus will not be our mascot; he will be our Lord or nothing at all.

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