#speak into the microphone gabriel

[lastmidtownshowmp3]

Gabe were you normalizing kissing boys and making a ‘statement’ on June 9th 2006 in William Beckett’s hotel room?

[luxlightly]

(EDIT: Added non-xray veiw to show how the mandibles enclose the other mouthparts along with closed mandible view and some labels) Taps microphone *AHEM* Angels.......is bugs. Redid this and added a second view for clarity. Breakdown beneath the cut:

Unlike with most insects, Gabriel's mouthparts are all enclosed within scoop shaped mandibles and are not visible when his mouth is closed. They curl back and press together when not in use.

The mandibles grab and tear off chunks of food, which the maxillary palps pass back to the labrum and labium which chew the food and the labial palps then pass it back to the esophagus. His esophagus and windpipe are not actually weirdly stacked like this, instead much closer together and side by side, I just drew them like this for clarity.

His wind pipe is a completely separate tube than the esophagus and does not connect to the mouth, instead to the 3 spiracles on each side of his face (I know they're indents, not holes, in game but he's also not a bug in game. Play with me in the space). This means he cannot speak or breath through his mouth. It's also why his voice sounds echoed, it's coming out of six different holes at once. Also because he's an angel and can just Do That.

"He just can" is also why he can form words with only a voice box and not a tongue and lips and also explains away any other inaccuracies or inconsistencies.

P.S. If you saw that the word for an insect's lower lip thing is "labium" and thought "ha!", TRUST ME that is a joke I am 100% making in the fic this is for,

[wield-the-mighty-pen]

ladynoir 12 for the drabble prompts!

Hey Nicole!

So, you did prompt #12 (also yay! my favorite number!), which ended up corresponding to Love Don't Die by The Fray!

I'll admit, it took me a while to figure out what to do with this one, but I ended up taking the angst route lol

This is a PRPR fic, where Chat Noir and Hawkmoth's identities have been revealed to the public (Ladybug is still unknown though)...

anyways... hope you enjoy!

ao3 link

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Instead I'm Never Leaving You

“LADYBUG! LADYBUG! OVER HERE!” The shouting and blaring lights of overzealous reporters threatened to overwhelm her, but she blinked back spots and stood her ground. She reminded herself why she was here. Why was she standing alone with only the bare vestiges of a whisper of his hand in hers, of his warmth radiating next to hers, a stolen moment taken from only moments ago, but feeling like a lifetime past. 

One eager reporter with bright purple hair and a sharp haircut broke from the fold and shoved her microphone underneath Ladybug’s face. 

“Ladybug, what do you have to say about the rumors of your partner being Adrien Agreste?” 

Ladybug pursed her lips and fought against the building headache in her temple. 

“No comment.”

This was not to discourage the enthusiastic reporter, who pushed the microphone even further into Ladybug’s face, its plastic scent was beginning to make her nauseous. 

“And what do you have to say about the allegations of famed fashion designer Gabriel Agreste being Hawkmoth, and about the potential implications of Chat Noir being the son of Hawkmoth?”

Forever on the defense for her partner, this time, Ladybug could not hold herself back from speaking. 

“The identity of Hawkmoth, regardless of who he is, has no effect on Adrien Agreste, who has never done anything to harm Paris, and it certainly has nothing to do with Chat Noir, who has spent every waking moment defending all of Paris, including myself.” Ladybug could feel her face turning a bright red, as her voice rang clear with righteous fury.

For a moment the crowd around her silenced, until a voice in the crowd, to which she could put no face, piped in.

“Ladybug, don’t you think that we’d be better off without Chat Noir? How could you trust your partner, if these are the kinds of people he spends his time with?”

She was going to be sick. 

Surely he had been watching the crowd, surely he knew that they had given voice to the seeds of doubt growing heartily in the back of his mind.

Ladybug looked around helplessly for an exit, then remembered the trusty yo-yo hooked against her side.

“I’m sorry everyone but I have to go.”

With an eager fling, she catapulted herself into the air and made her way to the nearby rooftop that she knew he’d be hiding behind.

It wasn’t fair. With merely a grainy video taken by an invasive fan, which had showcased a side view of what looked to be Adrien’s Agreste’s face, after Chat Noir’s transformation. And had been posted to social media barely two days after the arrest of Hawkmoth suspect #1 Gabriel Agreste, Adrien’s… Chat Noir’s life had been effectively ruined.

She blinked back angry tears for him, knowing that their being spotted would only hurt him more. 

When she caught sight of him, he was facing the opposite direction from where the crowd had been, as though he hadn’t caught the entire thing from his hideaway.

He heard her before he saw her.

“What they’re saying is true, you know.”

“Chaton,” She sighed, her shoulders drooping.

“You would be better off to drop me. I mean, who would blame you? I wouldn’t trust me either.”

The ache that settled in her heart became too much for her. Rather than fight against his untrue words, rather than remind him of how much she cared about him, about how much she needed him, she sat down beside him and leaned her head on his shoulder. 

There they sat, with only traffic and wind to harmonize the silence, until Ladybug felt pressure and tenseness ease from Chat Noir’s shoulders, until his head sloped onto hers.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that.” She said quietly, she took his hand and began to draw circles on his knuckles. 

He shrugged with feigned nonchalance. “It’s okay.”

Ladybug sat up abruptly and turned herself towards Chat Noir. She grabbed his face in her palms to make sure he could see the earnestness on her face.

“It’s not okay. No partner, no person is as kind, as giving, as loyal and– and as goodhearted as you. You don’t deserve this treatment. What your father did was awful, but it’s not in any way a reflection of you. You– you are the opposite of him in every way, and I’m sure if Alya and Nino were here right now, they’d agree with me.” 

Ladybug stroked Chat Noir’s cheekbone in a repetitive motion that managed to catch reluctant tears, haphazardly falling from his weary eyes. 

“I know everything in your life is insane right now, that people are confused and have turned you into something you are not. But know this Chaton. I am never leaving you, and I am not going to turn my back on our partnership. Because I know who you are and I will always love you for it. Minou, we will get through this like we get through everything, together.” 

Chat Noir finally released a shuddered breath and nuzzled his face into her palm. 

“Thank you M’lady.”

“Always Chaton.”

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

Thank you so much for the ask! <3

Request a lovesquare side and a number from my playlist for a drabble!

[tippedarrows]

Mr. C is back! Just a lil question if you maybe could write oneshot about Hadrian X Gabriel?:)

I'm literally in need over here to see how purple man goes around with a smug smile because "THAT'S my man, so back off everybody".

If not - that's okay, I totally can get it!

- Mr. C

HUZZAH I LIED I WROTE IT ASAP!! YOU ARE WAY TOO NICE FOR ME TO NOT!!

Hadriel for you.... under the cut... It's kind of abrupt the way it ends, but I need to do some self care :) Please enjoy!

Being in a relationship with the mighty Gabriel the Warrior was some place that Hadrian never thought he would be. Alas, though, he stood with his boyfriend on a stage. Endercon, these idiots called it. 'What a stupid name', Hadrian thought. Whatever. His boyfriend was speaking here, and he had to forcefully worm his way into tricking the announcer out of the building.

Only Hadrian was fit enough to announce someone like Gabriel, he thought. No one else could quite capture that essence, that pizazz of an introduction Gabriel needed.

Tapping on the microphone once to check if it was working, Hadrian caught the attention of the crowd below him and all eyes were on him. Where they belonged - right below both him and Gabriel.

" Ahem, " he started. " What a wonderful choice for all of you to make on this fine night, to show in order to tell your fanciful wishes to our special guest tonight. " A small noise of whispers spread through the crowd, confused on why the announcer had changed on such short notice. Somewhere in that crowd, Jesse would slap a hand to their face.

Someone needs to get Hadrian off the stage. Now.

Though, the aged man continued in his slightly breathy tone that would make anyone uneasy. " Don't bust your britches! I'll welcome him to the stage knowing that what everyone wants! " Gabriel, hidden behind the curtain that was situated behind Hadrian, began to scratch at his head. " Without further ado, I'd like to present to you the mighty warrior of the Order of the Stone. The wandering warrior - who your gratitude will be taken kindly! "

A dramatic pause. The suited man stood with one hand behind his back, microphone gently cupped in the other as the audience waited with bated breath.

" Gabriel the Warrior! "

An eruption of cheers echoed through the stadium as Gabriel pushed through the curtains, arms up and a wide, toothy grin plastered on his dark face. He relished in the applause and screams, walking up next to Hadrian exactly. He leaned slightly closer, voice lowered - something that was hard to do with how naturally loud Gabriel was.

" What are you doing? " Gabriel sounded confused, and Hadrian smirked at the crowd, pushing his glasses up his nose. He whispered in turn, " Introducing you, Dear. " Gabriel scrunched his nose when Hadrian dodged his question, but had to wipe the expression away when the crowd let up on their cheers. Gabriel waved, clearing his throat.

" Now! I assume you have questions! Let's get them started, shall we? " Gabriel's warrior voice was booming, captivating not just the crowd, but Hadrian as well. Pride swelled up in the announcer's chest, puffing it out twice as much as both hands were tucked away behind his well dressed back.

The first few questions were simple enough, though stupid in Hadrian's mind. There was so much more to Gabriel other than his favorite foods and weapons! Hadrian ate his words soon enough, however, when a fan in a copying headpiece to Gabriel's stepped up.

" Um -- uh .. ", they flushed, picking with their fingers, " .. are you... single now that The Order is entirely disbanded? "

Gabriel was stunned into silence for a moment, and Hadrian's face twisted. Usually, he would keep his cool, but he felt his face turn red with jealousy. Gabriel glanced back and away from Hadrian, then double took. His heart clenched at the jealousy ridden in Hadrian's expression. Oh dear..

" Hah! Hah! " Hadrian stepped back up to the microphone, effectively blocking the shorter man from view. " This is a questions and answering! Not a dating simulator! " The laughter was still bubbling in his voice - mocking. " What makes you think Gabriel would ever converse with a simpleton- ", his sentence fell short.

Gabriel quickly put his hand on Hadrian's shoulder, leaning around him. " Ah, to answer your question, no. I apologize for- " It was Hadrian's turn to cut Gabriel off.

" Let me finish! " Gabriel clenched his jaw when Hadrian spun his head back to face the fan that was backing into the startled crowd. " If any of you have further questions of the sort, I suggest you.... can them. " Hadrian bridged his fingers together, pointing them at the crowd with his last words. " Mind you that Gabriel isn't just taken, he's off limits! " The crowd gawped.

" Gabriel here is a fine, fine hero. Despite what you may think of yourself, you don't stand a chance. If you even thought for a moment that you did... well.. " He looks up, tilting his head with his eyes. " You're very wrong. "

Hadrian spoke until he was out of breath. In a calculated yet angered way. A way that. ashamedly, made Gabriel flustered. Stuttering, Gabriel waved his hands back and forth.

" Sorry, I apologize! He's just .. "

Someone from the crowd let out a gasp - Jesse. Mildly horrified, yet mostly shocked. Gabriel laughed louder, nervous, as someone stepped up.

" You're dating! "

Hadrian chuckled lowly, putting a gloved hand to his jaw and rubbing at his beard. " You're smarter than you look. It took you long enough. " The crowd was stunned, but Hadrian was proud. Gabriel was embarrassed.

Oh - Hadrian. What are you doing?

[aziraphales-library]

Hey there, hope you're having a great day! Do you happen to know any rockstar au fics? I've been looking for some but I can't seem to find them...? Thank you!!

Strong Enough For Love by TawnyOwl95 [E]

Music journalist A.Z. Fell has been given the biggest break of his career.

A chance encounter (alright, a casual blow job) has opened up an opportunity to interview elusive rock star Anthony J. Crowley at his Oxfordshire mansion.

What exactly is the secret hidden in Tadfield Abbey? And will Azi ever pin down Crowley long enough to get (railed again) his interview?

Never Have I Ever (Been Myself) by FeralTuxedo [M]

Aziraphale Fell, BAFTA-winning actor of stage and screen, is bored. Bored of playing middle-aged divorcees in dull BBC dramas. Bored of answering the same questions on chat shows and breakfast television. Bored of keeping the real him hidden away.

So when the opportunity presents itself to collaborate with up-and-coming rock band Witching Hour, he takes it, against his own common sense and the condescending advice of his agent. Witching Hour’s mysterious guitarist Crowley, flame-haired, moody, and a good fifteen years his junior, certainly seems worth the risk.

A human actor/rock star AU.

Win a Date With Anthony J. Crowley! by Caedmon [E]

Crowley is a world-famous rock star who sells out arenas. His name is synonymous with 'rock-n-roll', and he thrives on the spotlight. When he agrees to raffle off a date with himself for charity, he's expecting to meet an overzealous fan that wants to wear his skin and very well might try to roofie him. What he's not expecting is to be instantly attracted to the quiet man with the unusual name who shows up for the date at the Ritz... and he's certainly not expecting for Aziraphale to have no clue who he is...

Monster by Nadzieja [E]

At the age of twenty-five Aziraphale still lives in the family home with his four overprotective siblings. They have planned out Aziraphale's life perfectly, and are determined to make sure he never strays from his path.

Yet, they haven't accounted for him meeting and befriending the charming and mysterious Anthony J. Crowley—a rock star, of all things. But what they don't know is that Crowley hides more than just one secret…

Private Gig by madrabbitgirl [NR]

Aziraphale is on a miserable date with Gabriel, his most recent Grindr mistake, and is considering breaking things off when a sweaty musician in tight trousers appears before him, basically making the decision a snap. Aziraphale hasn't seen Crowley in a few decades, but their reunion is... passionate to say the least. Will they ever talk about why they stopped speaking in the first place? How does a stuffy bookseller go about dating a rock star?

Prompt was 'feedback' and I, of course, thought of microphones.

~Mod N

[logically-asexual]

oh!! i'm very sorry. i didn't want to make you uncomfortable, please have a nice day!

plus, if you like this idea:

nathalie and gabriel are at a public place (you choose it) and nathalie gets a dizzy spell. gabriel takes her home and, the next day, he finds articles about them being a couple. everything else is up to you!

don’t worry about it anon! you’re very sweet

i do like the idea, so here are 1,790 words about it ♡

(warnings for a detailed description of her dizzy spell, and for embarrassing situations)

Nathalie looked through the itinerary on her tablet. She felt relieved that the night was almost over and that everything had gone smoothly so far. Gabriel was always reluctant to attend these kinds of events, but it was his own collection they were presenting and reporters would be expecting to interview him. Normally he would trust Nathalie or Adrien to answer questions for him in his absence, but Adrien was on a school trip and she guessed Gabriel noticed her worry about being there alone in her condition and therefore he insisted on coming with her this time.

Despite the lack of practice he carried himself with confidence. He answered all the questions of the reporters at the entrance of the venue as if he had expected and rehearsed every single one, giving away just enough to give complete answers but still leave them craving for more of his attention. The sight brought her back memories of when she first started working for him, and reminded her of her original source of admiration for the designer.

Nathalie stood in the back of the stage as Gabriel walked into the spotlight after the line of models. He stood still with his hands behind his back, looking down at the audience as cameras flashed all around him and the noise of clapping overlapped with the loud, celebratory music. A familiar blurriness in the corners of her vision and sting just above her eyebrow hinted to her that a headache was coming soon. But she could hold it together just a while longer, she had to.

Gabriel was walking in her direction. She took in deep breaths, trying to imagine that the air was refreshing and not the product of a hundred people occupying a closed space for hours.

“Congratulations, Sir. The show was a great success.”

As if her shortness of breath needed any more motivation, Nathalie spotted a hint of a smile lifting the corner of his mouth when he thanked her.

The lights turned back on gradually, but the change still felt too quick for her. People stood up from their seats and began dozens of conversations at once, somehow all seemed to be held right by her ears. She focused on keeping up with Gabriel’s pace while always staying a couple steps behind. She was eager to go home, but they had to greet the most important attendees first, while other people kept interrupting to congratulate Gabriel and ask him questions about his inspiration and techniques.

More and more people closed in around them, now taking turns to speak to the designer and not allowing them to escape in any direction. A bodyguard assisted to protect Gabriel’s personal space, and usually Nathalie would help with that herself, but today all she could focus on was staying upright as people bumped into her on their way to shove microphones on Gabriel’s face. The actual movement as she was pushed was probably less dramatic than her perception, but the nausea was distressingly real, so she was soon forced to step away, not wanting to be the cause of ruin of such a perfect night.

The floor was tilting from side to side and reflecting the bright lights of the ceiling as she walked as fast as she could. She had to lean on the wall for support, hoping that if she followed along it she would find the exit eventually.

When she finally felt the frame of a door, she looked up from her feet, just wanting to know where she was going before crossing it. She didn’t find a sign, and when she looked around in an attempt to orient herself, she made eye contact with Gabriel, long enough to notice the change in his expression to one of concern.

Shit, Nathalie muttered to herself. The last thing she wanted was to worry him.

She opened the door and walked out of the big hall and into the lobby of the building. Luckily it had been that and not some restricted area for employees. Leaning back against the door she swallowed and inhaled deeply through her nose. She hoped to pull herself together before it was too late. However, before she could even gather her thoughts, the door behind her burst open, forcing her to stumble forward. She turned around at the sound of her name a little too quickly, which was the final straw before she collapsed.

Nathalie lost her balance and her vision turned black. In contrast to the cold, hard hit to the floor she expected, softness and warmth enveloped her. Gabriel helped her to a chair near the glass doors that led outside, where she could slowly blink her eyes back open. As soon as she registered her surroundings, a surge of panic froze her again.

“Nathalie! Are you okay?” It was the first time she heard the question but there was no doubt that he’d been repeating it for a while.

“Thank you, Sir, but I’m fine. You should go back inside. I’ll call a cab and—.” She looked around for her phone, only to spot it on the floor near her tablet back where she almost fell. The mere idea of having to stand up and walk over there to retrieve them was enough to threaten a stronger headache. Hopefully they weren’t cracked.

“Nonsense. I’m taking you home right now.” He left no room for argument as he already held his phone to his ear, calling their driver to pick them up. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Hold on.” She coughed, still quite out of breath. The rest of the words weren’t intelligible between the wheezing but he understood when she pointed towards the devices and went to pick them up. He walked back and she began reaching out, but instead of offering her phone and tablet back he held them firmly in one hand and offered her his other arm.

Nathalie felt embarrassed at the unprofessional suggestion. She managed instead to push herself up from the chair alone. Walking, however, was a more daunting challenge. Knowing how weak her body got after the dizzy spells and wanting to avoid causing even more trouble, she accepted his support and held on to Gabriel’s firm arm with both hands.

They made it outside and to the driveway. In the lobby the music was still audible, though muffled, but here the night was almost completely silent. Nathalie let the rhythmical sound of the crickets clear her head, and at last she enjoyed some peace.

The following morning everything was back to normal. She sat at her desk with an exceptionally good cup of coffee. That day Gabriel had been up earlier than her and made it himself. After she finished the routine tasks of her morning schedule, she moved on to looking up reviews of the show from the night before. Employees in other departments of the company would read them over with greater detail, but Gabriel expected her to formulate a general report about the impressions of his shows for him, to avoid surprises.

The reputable fashion magazines seemed to hold a positive opinion on the collection, but something caught her eye looking through the tabloids.

Gabriel was pulled from his concentration when he heard Nathalie have another coughing fit. He saw her put her mug down on the desk as she desperately tried not to choke on her coffee. He rushed to help her, worried that her condition might be getting worse after last night’s dizzy spell. Through her coughing she tried to insist she was fine, and for him to go back to work, but he couldn’t leave her like this. He rubbed her back in an attempt to soothe her as her coughs died down.

“Sir, I’m sorry. It was just the coffee this time, you don’t have to worry.”

He believed the first part, after all it didn’t sound like the pain the miraculous so often inflicted upon her, but something still seemed off. He looked up toward her screen and his eyes widened.

““Still devoted to his wife”? Gabriel Agreste might have been in an affair with his assistant this whole time!” read the headline in bold caps. Below was a gallery of pictures that had apparently been taken the night before, through the glass windows and doors of the building where the show took place.

Nathalie was mortified as she saw Gabriel take in the article. The pictures really did look incriminating out of context. From some angles, it almost appeared like her head was leaning on his shoulder as he walked with her, or that they were both leaning in closer to each other than they actually were when she was sitting in the lobby. They also captured him opening the car door for her and helping her inside. On the sidebar of the website, similar articles were recommended, all headlines equally ridiculous. Some praised Nathalie for her bravery dating such a man, some questioned both his and her purposes, some were cheerful in tone while others mourned the loss of an illusion of the designer’s availability. The more she looked, the worse it all got.

“Mr. Agreste, please forgive me, Sir. This is all my fault, I shouldn’t have kept you away from the guests. I’ll call the PR department right away and have this misunderstanding fixed. I should also contact your lawyers to sue for defamation and—“

“It’s okay, Nathalie,” he interrupted. He was leaning slightly over her since her chair was between him and the monitor. Maybe it was the awkward angle but Nathalie could swear she saw a hint of amusement in his otherwise stern expression. Or maybe she was finally losing her mind. “It’s just gossip. They’ll forget all about it as soon as they find some other thing to make up a scandal about.” He straightened and looked down at her. “Now get back to work.”

Nathalie swallowed, trying to keep the shame and guilt from twisting her face anymore. Mostly, she wished to get rid of the heat that surely colored her cheeks. “Yes, Sir.”

She watched perplexed as he walked back to his podium, unbothered, as if nothing had happened. What could be wrong with him? Perhaps he was in denial about the situation and would show his offense at the disrespect to his wife later. Nathalie could only hope she wasn’t in the room when it finally dawned on him. Only when he was sketching again did she turn back to her own screen.

Those paparazzi were… quite talented, she thought. Some pictures really made them look like a couple in a romantic escapade. If she downloaded a few to her personal flash drive then… no one had to know.

[lizardrosen]

All That Lives Must Die

part seven of Not More Native to the Heart, the claudius/polonius backstory series! @cleverclove, @moonlarked, @gabriel-shutterson

timeline talk

part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six

When Claudius answers the call he’s not expecting anything out of the ordinary, but then he hears Polonius’s voice. “Claudius, thank god! Thank god you picked up, I tried Gertrude but I couldn’t get ahold of her. Listen, I need your help.”

“She’s preparing for a press conference,” Claudius explains, clinging to one last scrap of normalcy before he asks, “What’s going on, what do you need me to do?”

“Can you pick up the kids from school and bring them to the hospital? Her — oh god!” He chokes on his words and breathes wetly before he can speak again. “They say her heart is failing, and there might not even be half an hour of life in her, she probably won’t even wake up in that time.”

“We’ll be there right away,” he promises. Luckily his car still has a booster seat for Ophelia from the time he took them to the aquarium. The whole time he drives to her kindergarten and then to Laertes’s school he’s thinking, “Please hold on, please don’t die yet, let them say goodbye.”

In the main office of the elementary school, Ophelia holds tight to Claudius’s hand, while her other hand clutches her harlequin puppet. “Early dismissal for Laertes Skovbrand,” says the receptionist into her PA microphone. They don’t have to wait long before Laertes comes running, shoelaces coming undone and trailing a backpack he didn’t bother to zip.

He sees Ophelia first and his mouth twists into a frown, but then he sees that she’s with Claudius instead of their dad, and Claudius sees the moment it clicks. “No! No, I’m not ready!” He runs to cover his sister’s ears with his hands before he looks up and asks, “Did my mom die?”

“Not just yet, but we do have to hurry.” He takes Laertes’s backpack from him and zips it up while swinging it onto his shoulder, and he’s only half-faking when he staggers sideways. “What do you have in here, a bunch of bricks?”

“I’m always packed with everything I might need,” he explains seriously. “Just in case something happens and I have to leave early, like today.”

Claudius drops the bag a second before he drops to his knees to wrap Laertes in a hug. It’s clear that the weight of preparing himself for loss is worse than the weight of the books. “You’re doing such a good job, kid,” he promises, hoping this is what he needs to hear and not somehow making it worse. “Not many people your age have had to be as brave as you’ve been, but it’s okay to be scared too, you know. Come on, let’s go.”

He speeds through every red light, thinking only that he will not be the reason the children in the back seat miss their mother.

“You’re breaking the traffic laws!” scolds Laertes. “Are we gonna get arrested? I’m too young to go to jail, I’ve got my whole life ahead of me!”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be a ticket at most, and I’m the only one responsible for that.” But it’s enough to slow him down at least, and when he merges into the left hand lane, the consistent ticking of the turn signal makes him think of Polonius alone, watching a heart monitor get slower by the minute, and his eyes mist up. It’s really ending today. Who could ever be ready?

A sharp honk from behind him is his only answer, and Laertes helpfully reminds him to keep moving. That’s the trick, isn’t it?

As he unbuckles Ophelia in the parking lot he says, “Is it okay to give you a piggyback ride? I know you’re a big kid but my legs are longer than yours and time is of the essence.” She considers this for a moment, then nods, so he crouches for her to hop on. Laertes runs ahead to open doors for them and Claudius moves at a pace only slightly more solemn and dignified, which doesn’t stop him from taking the stairs two at a time. He lets Ophelia down and ruffles her hair before knocking softly on the half-open door.

Polonius sags with relief to see their faces. “Good, you made it,” he says, opening his arms so his children can run to him and hug him around the middle. His face twists as he squeezes them tight and he looks like he’s about to start crying again but he pulls himself together such as he can and says, “Go on in and say goodbye.”

Before he can follow them, Claudius leans in and whispers, “You’re in no state to be driving. I’ll be in the waiting room for you, I promise.”

“No.” It sounds like it hurts just to get that word out.

Ignoring the slash of hurt in his heart, Claudius takes hold of both his shoulders and speaks with the authority of a politician. “Really, Polonius, I must insist. I’d be a terrible friend if I didn’t wait for you at a time like this.”

“No, I mean don’t leave. I can’t face this on my own, I need you here.”

“Oh. Of course I won’t leave, then.” It occurs to him without any warning that he’s close enough to kiss Polonius on the cheek, and he pulls away before they pass through the doorway.

Inside, Ophelia is shaking her mother’s arm while Laertes looks on with his arms crossed, though whether that’s from frustration or an attempt to shield himself from what’s happening here, Claudius couldn’t begin to guess.

“Mommy won’t answer me,” she tells them, sounding shrill and desperate. “She has to say goodbye, right?”

“Oh, honey…” Polonius clasps his hands together to brace himself to continue. “Do you remember what we talked about last week, how sometimes when a person gets sick they don’t get better?” Ophelia nods uncertainly. “Well, that’s what’s happening to your mom now. She’s… her body hasn’t been working right, and she’s been hurting, but soon she’ll be able to rest for good. She can’t talk to you anymore, but she can hear you, so go on and tell her anything you want her to remember on her way to heaven.”

Claudius looks away, feeling this isn’t a scene he should be allowed to witness; he doesn’t want to witness it. But he understands how much it means that he’s been trusted to be here, and he’s filled with so much love it hurts. It hurts to lose so much love, and he’s not even the one who will have to walk around with that hole in his chest for the rest of his life. He’s just here on the sidelines because he couldn’t possibly abandon Polonius and because Caroline is a remarkable woman whose sunlight he wants to absorb for as long as he still can.

Unfortunately he turns to see the clouds hanging on Laertes, who is now fully scowling, his small body all coiled with tension. This isn’t a moment to politely ignore, this is a trap that must be disarmed before someone gets hurt.

“Can you talk to me? What are you thinking now?”

“I’m thinking that it’s not fair!” Laertes mutters.

“No, it’s not.” Laertes relaxes a fraction just to have someone agree with him. “It’s never fair when someone you care about leaves or dies. What else.”

“And I don’t get why Dad’s lying to Ophelia like that! Mom can’t hear us, she’s not conscious, that’s just science, and when you’re dead it’s not like you’ll remember anything from when you were alive.”

“Don’t forget, your sister just turned five, and sometimes a simpler explanation is closer to what she can understand. And even if your mother won’t remember you saying goodbye, you’ll remember this moment and know you’ve said all you would have wanted her to hear if she could.” The alternative is worse, he doesn’t say.

“I just don’t get it!” Laertes bursts out. “I did everything I was supposed to, didn’t I? I even kept my room clean for a whole month, so why wasn’t it enough to save her?”

“It’s just not the kind of thing you can control, kiddo, that doesn’t make it your fault.”

“Then what’s the point! Why even bother trying to be good if people still die?”

Too late Claudius realizes that where an adult might be relieved to hear they’re not responsible for the weight of the world, no kid wants to hear they’re even more helpless than they already thought.

“Well, okay — your mom w- is a good person, wouldn’t you say?”

“Of course she is!” The fierceness of his reply reassures Claudius that he didn’t catch how quickly he’s already started thinking in past tense.

“Does all the goodness she’s put into the world go away or stop mattering today because she won’t be around after this?”

“Well… no, I guess not. What’s your point?”

“The point is that you do the right thing because it’s right, and to make the world a little brighter, not because that stops anything bad from ever happening. What matters is is how you respond to the bad things. So how about you go say goodbye to your mom now?”

“Yeah,” he says, lowering his shoulders on an exhale. “Yeah, I guess I will. Thanks, Uncle Claud.”

Ophelia has just finished giving her mom as big a hug as she can and says, “I love you, Mommy, I’ll miss you sooo so much!” and then Polonius puts a hand on her back to guide her to the side so Laertes has a turn.

“Thanks, Mom, for everything you’ve given me and taught me.” He kisses her cheek and stands as tall as he can. “I promise I’ll make you proud.”

Then all three of them watch as Polonius smooths his wife’s hair as he’s done so many times, and takes her unresponsive hand before he sits in the chair beside her. “Caroline. My partner, my helpmeet, my best friend. You’ve always made me a better man, and you make me laugh, and I wish we’d had forever, but I’m so grateful for every moment we’ve shared. God—” Claudius squeezes his shoulder in quiet support. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you, dear, but I’ll try so—”

He’s interrupted by the beeping of the heart monitor speeding up like crazy for a final second and they’re all left in the strange silence of a flatline tone. Claudius feels as though some cord that had been wrapped tight around all of them has suddenly snapped, leaving them all adrift in separate universes. It doesn’t quite seem real — they’ve been fearing this moment for so long, and none of them ever planned very far ahead for the moments after.

He’s glad he was already touching Polonius, because it’s that much easier for him to slump against Claudius’s shirt and sob his heart out. “Hey, I’m here, I’ve got you, we’ve all got you.” Ophelia slips her little hand into his, and after a moment and a head jerk from Claudius, Laertes is also giving him a hug. “You’re all going to be okay, but you don’t have to be okay just yet.”

There’s a bustle of hospital staff then, with Polonius answering questions mechanically and Claudius jumping in whenever he knows the right response, but they finally get out of there. By the time they’re all walking back to the car, Laertes has grown sullen again. He pushes Ophelia with his shoulder and she almost falls to the floor.

“Hey,” says Claudius. “You know that’s not how we behave.”

“Sorry,” says Laertes without looking back, and Claudius suppresses a sigh.

Even more worrying, Polonius didn’t even seem to notice it happen.

[paimaniagalaxia]

FNAF AU- Clean Up Time

Ship: Springtrap x Self insert

Word count: 1,259

Summary: The after math of the events of FNAF 1, where a clean up crew is hired by Henry Emily to help refurbish and confiscate the animatronics.

Paige is apart of that clean up crew and decides to leave the rest of her crew mates to finish the job, all the while exploring the rest of the pizzaria. Only to end up in parts and services, to find the one and only William Afton. AKA, Springtrap.

CHAPTER THREE

I have never seen… So much… God, it’s sick to look at. How can anyone-- Well, I do it for a living-- But, this. This takes the cake.

Or pizza-- God my mind is a fucking mess right now.

Bodies, bodies just everywhere. Parts scattered about as if this was a free-for-all-- I mean, to THEM, it was a free-for-all. I didn’t think they would do all this, all in one night!

All in, oh boy. Oh… O-Oh no--

~

Paige grabs a nearby bucket that was nearby Springtrap, hugs it close to her body as viscerale noises escape her lips. Muffled by the bucket, so they wouldn’t exit out silently. So those, those animatronics wouldn’t hear they missed one person to eviscerate.

“Honestly, I’d thought they would have done worse.” Springtrap comments, not phased by the entire situation.

“WORSE?!” Paige shouts back before getting light-headed once more, and heaves into the bucket she was hugging.

“Henry didn’t give us any heads up that these… These monsters would attack.”

Springtrap looks away, as that name isn't what it wanted to hear again. That man, the bane of its existence, was the reason why it was still here. Trapped in this horrible place, but now he had a second chance. Possibly, it could-- He, he could fix all of this.

“Let me go and speak to them. Stay here.”

Paige grabs his arm and holds him back.

“NO! You’ll get hurt!!”

Springtrap huffs and yanks his arm away, before flexing his metallic digits.

“Like I can feel pain. But I’ll be fine.”

“They know me.” Springtrap adds before opening the door. Looking both ways before signaling to Paige to remain here. 

She nods and notices the spilt bucket.

“I got that.”

Springtrap sighs and shakes his head. Before nodding and leaving.

~~

In the front entrance, the party room to specific, The Main Four enjoy themselves. After ‘cleaning up’ the intrusion that invaded their home. 

(as the bodies were just sitting in the chairs, some even have party hats on)

Freddy Fazbear, the brown bear in the top hat, was adjusting his microphone. Humming to himself as he was set to getting this shindig started once again.

As if nothing BAD happened to them.

“Hey Bonnie, did you find your guitar?” He asks his purplish-blue rabbit pal.

“It’s somewhere, man, they really need to stop moving our stuff about. It’s hard enough as is.” Bonnie responds back as he looks around behind the amps on the stage. His head turns about before looking over, jumping back as a reddish fox animatronic, scares the living daylights out of him.

“FOXY! Knock it off!!”

The fox pirate cackles happily, as he loved scaring his fellow mates.

“Arr! Don’t get yer bolts so tight there Bonnie!! It’s all in good fun!”

Freddy shakes his head before seeing a red bass guitar lurking behind a curtain. As he could remember, the last time they were awake was placed back there. He walks over to it and picks it up, brushing the layer of dust before eyeing Springtrap.

“Oh, Mr. Afton. What brings ya here?” Freddy asks.

“Just Springtrap Freddy… Don’t want Gabriel waking up.” Springtrap mentions.

Freddy sighs as he lowers the bass in his grasp.

“Sorry about that Mr-- Springtrap. They kids didn’t like all that noise going about, so well… They took care of it.”

Springtrap nods as he sees the lifeless bodies, sitting up in the chairs. Including the party hats on some of their heads. A grimace and shocked look appears on his face.

Followed by a groan.

“And so they did…”

He then looks around, as he sees Foxy and Bonnie teasing at each other. Good Jeremy and Fritz were occupied at being near one another, last time he’d met them, they were close friends. But he could tell, there was one missing from The Main Four.

“Hmmm… Where’s Susie? Chica?” Springtrap asks.

Freddy blinks and points over to the kitchen area. That the chicken with the craving and admiration for pizza, would be in her usual hangout spot.

“Oh, she is in there. Been there for a while though.” He answers back.

“Nervous breakdown. We hadn’t been open since the 90’s…” Springtrap reveals.

Foxy and Bonnie look over, hearing the news astonished and dreadful gaze.

Foxy’s jaw even drops, before Bonnie pushes back up.

“That… That can’t be right?” Freddy spoke bewildered, that they couldn’t be out of commission for that long. It boggled his mind, holding the side of his head to ease the confusion.

“It is. All of you, I need you to REALLY clean up this mess. No show if there’s a mess like this.” Springtrap orders.

“WE’RE ALL OUT OF PIZZAAAH!!” Chica pipes up as she exits out of the kitchen before looking over at the other three and Springtrap.

“Wrong timing?”

“Wrong timing…” Springtrap remarks before relaying to Chica the news of what to do.

Soon the Main Four were busy and preoccupied cleaning up the pizzeria’s party room, being given all mops and buckets of clean, sanitized water. Thanks to Paige’s help of course. She was introduced to them, thanks to the aid of Springtrap. They didn’t seem to mind her, and neither did the spirits either, since they didn’t see Paige as much of a threat.

She acted ‘less adulty’ than her previous cleaning crew. 

Paige continues to mop one section, alongside Springtrap who was scrubbing down a nearby chair. Something in her mind came to her suddenly, bluntly speaking to Spring. That caught him off guard.

“So, the animatronics have a mind of their own, because of the kid spirits inside of them?” She asks back, as she was told by Spring that it wasn’t just the personalities that the animatronics had-- But living ghosts inside of them too.

“Mmhm.” Springtrap nodded as he kept detailing.

“How did they die?” Paige blurts out.

Springtrap locks up from Paige’s blunt question.

How could he tell her that he was responsible for the murders? That he went out on a full rampage of his own twisted nature, taking the lives of children? No… No he couldn’t mention it back to Paige, because-- Who knows how she’ll act??

She was too nice to know to be traumatized this soon.

Springtrap turns his head over to Freddy as he gestures to them to keep quiet. That none of what happened should be told to Paige.

Freddy nods in agreement, as he gestures back to the others.

Foxy, Bonnie, and Chica nod as well.

“Killed, too soon.” Springtrap answers back vaguely.

“Oh.” Paige solemnly spoke before looking at the other animatronics.

“Let the spirits rest. They did enough damage tonigh--” Springtrap freezes before his suit locks up. Coughing and sputtering blood onto the tile floor.

“Oh for fok sake! N-Not again!!”

“Spring!!” Paige gasps as she rushes over to him, helping him lay back.

The Main Four overhear and stay where they were, knowing this would reawaken the children.

“T-Turn me around…”

“W-What?!”

“Turn me around…” Springtrap repeats back to Paige.

Paige nods as she turns Springtrap onto his stomach.

“There should be a back panel… Flip the switch to r-restart the springlocks.”

“Wouldn’t that crush you ag-- Right, can’t feel pain.” 

Paige corrects herself as she opens Springtrap’s back panel. She sees a switch that was labeled RESTART, and flips the switch. Hoping that this would do the trick, just as Springtrap told her.

Then, the suit tenses and makes Springtrap twitch. A guttural grunt was heard before completely collapsing.

“SPRING!? SPRINGTRAAAP!!”

[END OF CHAPTER THREE]

[maybemarapeace]

ABBA - Money, money, money

Eng

- Miss Dupain-Cheng! Please, take just a couple of minutes - her eyes close, hiding from the thousands of camera flashes directed at her. - Please comment on the success of your latest collection. Sales are literally breaking the world market! - The nearest reporter literally shoves the microphone into her mouth, pushing others in the way. She just wanted to go out for coffee.

- Our team worked day and night to achieve not only the best result, but also to surpass it. We always make maximum efforts, - the girl looks directly at the reporter. She smiles kindly at him, mentally cursing herself for wanting to walk away. To be honest, I would like to leave here sooner.

- And it is noticeable! Your work can be seen on world-class stars: actresses, politicians and even the wife of the president. It's a resounding success, but what about the negative reviews? Recently, more and more negative feedback about the new collection began to spread on the network. How do you comment on this?

- You can't please everyone. The first thing I pay attention to is that I like the clothes. Only then do those who agree with my taste buy it. Our managers monitor absolutely all the reaction of the society in order to understand what to rely on in the next collections - the right eye twitches a little, but it remains imperceptible to him, who watches her lips and records all her words choking.

- Of course, of course. However, the other day, the video of ex-model "Gabriel" Lila Rossi, which, to be honest, blew your brand to pieces, became a sensation.

- I don't think I should waste my time on something like that. There are thousands like her. - "I found someone to remember" - the polite smile slowly begins to slip, the back becomes even straighter, and tension appears in the shoulders.

- I would like to note that this video was shot with the help of the reporter Alya Césaire - according to the known data of your former classmate - the face of the above-mentioned girl, who was lurking among other journalists, literally appears in front of her.

Marinette doesn't even have time to open her mouth when the reporter interrupts her and continues:

- By the way, about classmates, the main French male model Adrian Agreste did not comment on your collection. Does it affect you? Colleagues in a fairly close field ignore you? Of course, many fashion designers left only positive reviews, but these figures are also important - he seemed to be speaking a million words per second, and this drives her to the edge. Maybe earlier she would have tolerated the mention of her former classmates and their neglect of her, but 10 years have passed. Maybe they haven't changed, but she has.

Sharply interrupts the reporter with a raised palm:

- You are absolutely right. This upsets me like crazy, and to be honest, I don't have the strength to hold back my emotions anymore - her voice is firm, and her eyes are looking directly at him. Also, without turning away, she takes out a 100-euro bill from her purse and passes it under her eyes. - I guess I'll go cry about it in my penthouse.

After that, the girl throws away the bill like a dirty piece of paper and, turning away on her heels, walks back towards the building. The secretary can also bring her this coffee.

Money, money, money

Must be funny

In the rich man's world

[atozphantomsquadron]

XXV- Life

For a brief time after Cole’s death, I was completely unaware of what was happening around me in the church.  I vaguely sensed Gabe getting up and moving away from me.  I heard more than I saw, which wound up being a conversation between Gabe and Abaster, one that I still don’t quite understand.

Gabe was the first to speak, after a sound which might have been a fistfall.  “Get up!  Get up, damn you!”

“Who do you think you are?” Abaster challenged.  “Do you know who I am?  I’m Alastair Abaster, God’s right hand on Earth!”

“I am sent by He who is called I AM!”  Gabe’s voice made glass shatter in my soul.  It became booming, even more so thanks to the microphones.

“But … but how?  I’m … I am the Guardsman, God’s knight-errant …”

“You have some funny ideas, Alastair.  What made you think you were the one trusted with that duty?”

“It’s in the scripture, in the apocrypha … the angel Gabriel came to a doctor and crafted the Sword from the dust to cut down the sinful …”

Gabe laughed.  “Do you really think I would let the likes of you be the bearer of MY SWORD?”

Abaster stammered.  “What?”

“I crafted the Sword for a doctor, this is true.  The doctor’s name was Ezekiel Sha, his father was a knifemaker by trade.  When they immigrated to Europe, the name became Westernized … into ‘Sharpe.’”

Abaster panted.  “So that means …”

“That’s right.  He was the Guardsman.  Just who in the hell do you think you were serving, dealing death and destruction, summoning the undead, killing innocents, destroying the world?  It damn sure wasn’t God.”

Once those words were out, Abaster’s voice became strained grunts.  At this point I did finally look up, through the watery eyesight of my tears, and witnessed the occurrences at the altar.  Abaster, still in the armor but without the helmet, was kneeling in pain, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Forgive me … I have sinned … what have I become?”  He raised the Sabre over himself and thrust it deeply into his abdomen, like a samurai committing ritual suicide.  Only Abaster did not die.  Instead, his body began to deform, growing and shifting in grotesque proportion, his skin darkening, his hair disappearing, then eventually his body becoming nothing but fuel for the beast forming.  Gabe quickly grabbed Kitty and Cyrus and brought them back behind the pew.

The creature grew, until it pierced the wall of the church, collapsing it and revealing outside, millions of undead corpses marching toward us.  The sky darkened, clouds obscured the sun and created nighttime at noon.  The beast laughed, a sound which rattled all the corners of the church, threatening to bring the rest of it down.  Defiantly, Gabe stood up.

“Well aren’t you the proud artisan?”

The beast looked down at us. 

“Gabriel.  I shouldn’t be surprised, wherever there’s a Guardsman you’re not far behind.”

“The same could be said of you and the Invader, Abaddon.”

I had heard that name before.  My eyes widened and I looked up at Gabe.  “That’s Abaddon?”

He looked down and nodded.  “Indeed.  John wasn’t sure why this thing’s name showed up in his revelation, but he dutifully included the monster.  This is Hell’s swordsmith, he’s responsible for the Sabre and the Invader.”

“MURDERER!”  Cyrus launched one of his largest spells at the creature, but with no effect at all.  It simply turned to address the army of undead corpses assembling around us.  He continued to shoot the spell until Kitty finally pulled him back down.  This was the first time I ever saw despair on Cyrus’s face.

“It’s over.  Without a Guardsman, we’re lost.”

Kitty seemed to be agreeing through her body language, slumped and sad.  I had no words.  Only Gabe had something to say in disagreement.

“Guys, we’re not dead yet.  Abaddon thinks it’s triggering the apocalypse, but there’s some things it doesn’t know in regards to its timeline.”

Kitty seemed to have a glimmer of hope.  “What things?”

“Well for starters, when the apocalypse does come, it won’t be up to the likes of that thing to trigger it.  I also have my sources, too.”  Mysteriously, Gabe patted his hip, where I could see the bump of a cellphone holster.

Cyrus looked over to the battle, then back to Gabe.  “What do we do, then?”

Gabe placed his hands on both Cyrus and Kitty’s shoulders.  “You two, you need to distract Abaddon.  It’ll be easier than trying to distract the Invader, just attack his army.  Most of all, I need you to give me and Ariel about five minutes’ worth of cover.  There’s something we need to do.”

My two friends looked at each other like it would be their last time on earth.  They kissed briefly, then rushed into the battle, guns and spells blazing.  Gabe looked on after them and wished them godspeed.

Only then was I aware that he was approaching me once again.  The others had been keeping a respectful distance from where I had been holding vigil over Cole’s body.  Finally, Gabe crouched next to me and placed an arm around my shoulders.

“Ariel, my child, I need you to do something for me.”

My tears were unstoppable.  I sniffled and looked up from the body, only barely aware that I was coated with a lot of blood.  “Why?  What can I do, Gabe?  Without Cole, life is meaningless …”

“No it’s not, Ariel.  Not in the slightest.  I need you to do something for me, and I apologize in advance but it’s going to be weird, morbid, and possibly the most difficult task you’ve ever done.  Are you with me?”

I sniffled again.  Rendered mute by grief, I simply nodded.

“Good.  I need you to take Cole’s Sword and fight.”

My eyes widened.  What was I supposed to do with the Sword?  There was no way I could ever handle it, and I tried to tell this to Gabe.  He was hearing none of it.

“Bear with me, Ariel.  You can wield it.  You are Cole’s fiancé, had he lived you would have been flesh of his flesh and blood of his blood.  His love for you is the strongest love any Guardsman has felt throughout history.  Most importantly, though …” he placed his hand on my stomach. “… most importantly, you carry Sharpe blood within you.”

An unusual thing happened.  I became aware of my baby, right at that moment.  I felt a soft, weak pulse flutter under Gabe’s hand.  This surprised me.  “You know …?”

“Did you think I, of all people, wouldn’t?”  He winked at me.  “Your friends, your world, and your future all hang in the balance.  This is the moment.  This is your time, this is what your visions have been telling you.  You need to take up the Sword and seize your destiny.”

A long, last look at Gabe told me he was right, that he knew everything.  I slowly ran my hand along Cole’s side, searching for the Sword.  Eventually I found it, the leathery hilt waiting for a hand to take hold.  Gritting my teeth and yelping, I pulled it from its scabbard.

My vision swam.  So this was what it was like to draw the Sword.  I had the weapon’s entire history flash before me, every Swordbearer, every Guardsman and Guardswoman … yes, there have been Guardswomen in the past … all of them flashed before me.  When I felt like my eyes would explode, I realized that my body was growing, even though I had not wished it.  I panicked, not wanting to hurt my baby, not wanting to make things go wrong.  I didn’t want to lose the life that made this possible.

All of this panic was suddenly replaced by a sense of peace.  I sensed others around me, and when I looked behind me I saw a thousand Sharpes, bearing a thousand Swords, ready to combat a thousand enemies.  My heart rate slowed.

I felt hands on my shoulders, not a thousand but only four.  I looked immediately behind me and saw the four who were urging me on.

One was Ken.  He smiled at me, just like he had the first night I met him.  “We trust you, Ariel.  You can do this.  You can defeat Abaddon, let us guide you.”

One was 37A.  She bowed her giant head and snuffled through my hair.  =Let me give you strength of body, Ariel.  We are one, now and forever.=

One was Cole.  His eyes reflected the love we both felt, the love I felt was lost.  My heart jumped when I heard his wonderful voice again.  “I will give you strength of heart, Ariel.  My love will help you wield God’s weapon.”

There was a fourth person, one I did not recognize yet seemed familiar.  She had long blond hair which blew in the winds of the transformation, half-covering a gentle face with blue eyes and light complexion.  There was something about the twinkle in her eye which made me feel right, a feeling that magnified when she spread wings behind her.  “I will give you hope, mother.”

Mother?  She was my child, the new life I carried deep within me.  She was to become a Guardswoman!

All four of these people, the dearest in my life, slid their hands down my arms until all of us gripped the Sword tightly.  One by one, each of the others flowed into my body.  I felt stronger, energized, and more determined with each spirit that entered me.  When the spirit of my child entered finally, my eyes in the real world opened, within the armor of the Guardswoman I had become.

Abaddon was at my eye level, and at the same size.  I looked briefly around and realized that I had grown to an even height, and my wings blew behind me, stretching out for what seemed like an infinite distance.  I settled into a swordfighting stance, holding the Sword before me, the blade threatening Abaddon’s throat.  Only then did I see some of the grotesque details of Abaddon’s body, the faces which made up his midsection.  The most recent of these, Abaster, was frozen in eternal shock and panic, forming the creature’s navel with his mouth.

Abaddon allowed fire to form in a ball in the palm of its hand, flinging the torch at me.  I cast it aside easily with the Sword.  Again and again, fireballs assaulted me, all of them cut down harmlessly.  Abaddon roared.

“You will not stop this!  Armageddon rises now!” 

It shambled into a run, trying to tackle me.  I held the Sword upright and dug my feet into the desert floor, catching the beast in mid-run and holding it there.  It reached an arm out to grab me, one which was quickly deflected by one of my massive wings.  Another reach, another swat.  It roared again, impotent against my strength.

I almost felt I should wait until it tired itself out, but eventually Abaddon resorted to swinging its fists at me, which I didn’t even need the Sword to block.  It head-butted me in the chest, to no avail.  Three of the seven horns on its head broke off when his head contacted my breastplate. 

“It’s not possible … die!”

At this point, I decided I had endured enough abuse from the demon.  I grabbed it by the throat and unfurled my wings completely, flapping them and eventually taking to the darkened, cloudy air.  I could feel how wide my wings spread, for nearly a mile on either side of me, as we continued to streak higher and higher into the atmosphere.  When I glanced over and was able to see the curvature of the planet, was able to look far away from Four Corners and could even spot the Pacific from my vantage point, I mercilessly flung the demon back down the way we had flown up.  I flapped to keep myself hovering as it rocketed down, leaving a friction contrail in its wake.  I still had my dragon vision as the Guardswoman, so I was able to follow Abaddon’s fall all the way down to the ground, when the beast finally crushed what was left of the Church of Christian Purity with its massive bulk.

I raised the Sword high above my head and closed my eyes in a brief prayer.

God … Jesus … Ken … Cole … guide me true and help me preserve God’s creation.

I angled myself so that I would be falling head-first … with the Sword’s blade pointing down toward the ground … and collapsed my wings into a dive position.  I felt the heat of the air friction threatening to cook me alive within the armor, but paid it no attention.  In the final seconds of my descent, the events of my life all came to mind.  All of the people who had loved or cared for me in the past … from Heather Lisle to the assistant chaplain, from Sonny Lauzanne to Kitty Lazarus, from Aunt Irene to Cyrus Salem … from Ken to Cole … I knew in my heart that I would destroy this demon to honor all of them, all of their sacrifice and their love and friendship.

In the last second, I heard Abaddon cry for mercy.  I alighted enough so that I would land on my feet and bent my knees to prepare for impact.  My two feet and the Sword hit the ground at the same time.  The Sword plunged through Abaddon like a hot knife through ice.  The demon’s dissolution came as a near explosion of fresh desert dust, coating all around it in the remains.

I withdrew the Sword from the ground, crouched down to a knee, and sheathed the weapon.  Closing my eyes, I felt myself shrink down to my regular, human form.  The tears came again, for now I was lost without Ken or Cole to guide my hands and heart.  I laid the Sword down next to me and collapsed in my sorrow.

The next thing I remembered was awakening in a familiar house, in a familiar bed.  It was my house on the rez.  I sat up in the bed as my mother entered the room.

“Oh good, you’re awake.  We were hoping you’d be okay.”  She set down a bowl of water and a washcloth on a table next to me and started wiping my forehead down.  I took her hand.

“What about the others?”

She sighed.  “The little man and the … er, tiger woman … they’re fine, they’re resting in another room.  Your white-haired friend Gabe is sitting in the living room with …”

She trailed off.  I knew what the next words would be.  “With Cole’s body.  I understand.”  I sighed and felt more tears starting to come.  My mother embraced me tightly, trying to comfort me.  I was unsure I could ever be comforted, not with Cole gone and with his child still growing.  I gently rubbed my abdomen in my grief.

My mother noticed this.  (She always noticed everything I did!)  “It’s rough, I know.  Raising a child without a father was a challenge.”

I looked up at her and wiped my cheeks.  “How …”

“Gabe told me.  Listen, I will do everything I can to help you, little Ariel.  We’ll raise your baby, we’ll make sure the baby has a happy childhood and becomes a happy adult.  It’ll be my chance to fix some of the mistakes I made …”

I pulled my mother, who needed comfort herself now, into my lap.  “You never did wrong by me once, mom.  I will always love you.  And I will always love this child, when she enters the world and before.”

Now it was my mother’s turn to raise an eyebrow.  “How do you know it’s a girl?”

“Oh … call it a hunch.”  I had no idea how to explain the vision I had experienced as the Guardswoman to my mother.  I simply left it as a mystery.

Eventually, once my mother was satisfied that I was cleaned up enough and able to stand on my own, we both headed out into the living room.  Gabe sat on the couch: the coffee table had been cleared in order to lay out Cole’s body, which was covered by a black sheet.  Gabe stood up and embraced me gently.

“Well done, Ariel.  Well done, indeed, I’m just so sorry it came under these circumstances.”

I accepted Gabe’s compliments and condolences in silence, simply clutching to the mysterious agent.  Some of what he had said to Abaster still stuck in my head, and I was unsure whether to mention it or not.  Before I got the opportunity to bring it up, however, his cellphone rang, blaring Handel’s “Hallelujah Chorus” from his hip.

“I’m sorry, I have to take this,” Gabe apologized as he unclipped the phone.  “Gabe … yes, I’m here in the Vibria house … he’s right in front of me, yes … yes, she’s here too …”

His eyes took an expression of surprise.  “Are you sure about this?”

I looked at my mother briefly, then back at Gabe, who was handing me the phone.  “It’s for you.”

Unsure about what to expect, I took the phone from Gabe and put it up to my ear.  “Hello?”

The voice on the other end was … extremely hard to describe.  How do you describe an eternal entity’s voice, anyway?  It’s not for me to judge.  It sounded like it came across infinite time and space to reach the small phone in my hand.

“Hello, Ariel.  I have heard your prayers for all your lifetime.  You have been a loyal servant.  You have served Me well.”

I shuddered.  New tears appeared in my eyes, but not of sadness.  Wonderment, perhaps?  “Thank you.”

“I understand that you were to marry Cole Kenneth Sharpe, and it is because of your love and its product that you were able to defeat Abaddon.”

“That’s correct.”

“Keep this a secret between you, Me, and Gabriel, but I have done this sort of thing in the past.  Would it be fair to say that you wish to spend the rest of your life with Cole?”

My heart raced.  The love that would save a life … was it Cole’s life to be saved?  “Yes, it is, more than anything.  I want him to know his children, I want to be with him … I want to love him forever.”

The voice laughed.  It was an otherworldly echo.  It was frightening and rapturous all at once.

“You have demonstrated the depth of your love, Ariel, simply by standing as the Guardsman in his stead.  You are more than worthy of this request.  Place the phone next to Cole’s ear.”

Obediently … I felt that there was no way I could disobey this voice … I pulled the sheet back from Cole’s head.  His eyes had been closed, but his face still showed the signs of battle, dirt and dried blood.  His flesh lacked the color of the living, it was bluing and becoming sallow.  I gently cleaned a spot on his forehead and kissed there before placing the phone in the crevice between Cole’s neck and shoulder, making sure the speaker was against Cole’s ear.

I could not hear what the voice on the other end said into the dead ear, but I kept a close watch over Cole.  He remained motionless.

Then his eyes opened.

I felt my heart jump.  I bit down on my fingertips, trying to keep from crying out to him.  His chest began rising and falling once more.  Slowly, the pink color returned to his face, and the light returned to his blue eyes.  His arm moved to reach up for the telephone, taking it away from his ear and handing it back to Gabe.

Finally he sat up.  He took a deep breath, then turned his head to look over at me.  The love was there again, the life, the depths of his emotion, all of them were present in those eyes.

They curled up when he smiled at me at last.  To my last day on earth, I will never forget the first words he said to me.

“Ariel … why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”

I reached my arms out to collect him and kissed him deeply, happily.  He was alive once more.  My visions had come to pass … this indeed was a love that would save a life.

(Transcriber’s note: Shortly after the completion of this interview, Ariel led me to the site where the Church of Christian Purity had been destroyed.  I did note that there was a large quantity of different-colored sand at the site, which corresponds to her telling of the demon’s destruction.  I also noticed that nothing remained of the giant megachurch: its remains had by this time been reclaimed by the desert.  Some marriage records I tracked down eventually revealed the location of Jennifer Abaster, who apparently settled down after her brother’s destruction and married a small-time Nevada politician by the name of Carleton Regent.—DAM)

[cococookiedraws]

Breaking news: Hawkmoth breaks into the Agreste mansion to rap.

The Agrestes: [Master List]

[First] | [Previous] | Here: Ep. 17 | [Next]

Ko-Fi

—

Series description: What if Cat Noir, Hawk Moth and Mayura knew each other’s secret identities? This comedic comic series explores the shenanigans they would go through.

—

(Alt Text under the cut)

[Alternate text for screen reader: The Agrestes Episode 17. Frame 1. Nathalie is standing in front of the door to Gabriel Agreste’s atelier. Adrien is next to her. He asks, “Nathalie, may I speak to my father?” Nathalie replies, “Sorry Adrien, he’s busy.” Frame 2. A speech bubble coming from the door says “Nooroo, give me a beat,” in all caps. Nathalie is startled and confused. Adrien is tilting his head and there’s a question mark over his head. Frame 3. Adrien and Nathalie peek out the door. Hawk Moth is singing, “with a can in my hand, and a mask on my face,” while holding his cane like a microphone. Nathalie has a bewildered look and is raising an eyebrow. Adrien is filming it.]

[kevin--of-desert-bluffs]

WTNV Quick Rundown - Live Show - Condos

Our first live show(also technically like, episode 40.5)! I'm doing it here because it was first performed around this time, though in terms of NV events, I can't say where it fits. This one features the guest voices of Dylan Marron as Carlos, Mara Wilson as the Faceless Old Woman and Jackson Publick as Hiram McDaniels.

At last, we are alone. At last we are, all of us, alone together. At last, every human, alone together, on this earth. Welcome to Night Vale.

Condos are for sale in NV. Several characters are very excited to buy a condo despite the fact that nobody seems to know what a condo is or what it looks like. This includes Leann Hart, Janice Rio (from down the street), the Glow Cloud and Carlos. A man called Roger Singh is present and wants to know if he can buy one with the spine he is holding in his hands.

The Faceless Old Woman tries to warn Cecil about the condos. The 'Condos' are featureless black cubes, emitting low levels of radiation and pulsing energy. Touching them causes people to have visions of other places all of which have huge emotional consequences for those who view them. Janice Rio, Roger Singh and a resident called Samantha Guzman are the first to do so, closely followed by others.

A second touch of the cube sucks the person inside, where they go limp and float within it's semi-translucent interior. Cecil advises people to now NOT buy condos until they are fully understood.

He becomes worried when Carlos, who earlier revealed he was looking at buying a condo and also explained his voice change by saying he gave himself surgery on his vocal cords, reveals he did indeed by a condo for the two of them and had a scientifically-themed vision which he views as perfect and feels compelled to go and touch the condo again. Cecil goes to try and save him (during which time, the weather plays and the FOW tells us a story of somebody whose house she lived in).

“Remember Us“ by Gabriel Royal

Cecil did manage to rescue Carlos, but not without having a vision of the dark planet lit by no sun and feeling the allure of perfection, by resisting and clinging to the idea of the importance and reality of imperfection, beautiful imperfection. He carries Carlos out and reveals he always has his microphone with him, so records everything Carlos says.

Carlos starts by talking about obscure things, then gets shy as he admits he wants them to live together.

This is the first time we hear Cecil confirm that he and Carlos are 'boyfriends' too. Carlos suggests that Cecil not tell the whole town everything they do, so we don't learn what kind of home they plan to get together yet (or at all). The condos sink into the earth, taking those within them away to wherever it is they're going.

Hiram McDaniels appears due to feeling that giving airtime to the FOW was unfair, and he as another mayoral candidate should also get airtime. Each head speaks in a different voice and tone.

Dark Owl Records is having an 'everything must go' sale in which they say music is meaningless and you should eat it.

There is a new Unlearning Wing at the Museum of Forbidden Technology. Kids will be randomly chosen to attend whilst they're sleeping and then wake up there to unlearn things.

The NV PTA is holding a raffle and the winner (as usual) will never be seen again.

Monday has been rescheduled to Wednesday and Wednesday has been doubled.

Goodnight, all of you here, goodnight, all of you listeners, and goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight.

Today’s proverb: All tattoos are temporary tattoos.

[yannowhatigiveup]

My One And Only - Chapter 9

Previous | Next

So this chapter is longer than chapter 8 and I think from next chapter, they got longer. As we get closer to the chapter I’m currently writing, the frequent updates will unfortunately die. Just letting you know so you won’t be too disappointed! Oh and my Wattpad name is the same, ‘yannowhatigiveup’. If you know any way I can improve my writing please do tell me!

Gabriel Agreste stood in his observatory after recently detransforming. 'She can control her emotions well but when she's angry, it's incredibly strong. This girl could be one of the strongest in Paris, she could be one that senses auras. I must find a way. I will use her to eliminate all of heroes. All I need is time'.

————————————————————

The bluenette sat in her uncle Jagged's hotel room, tapping a pen against her lips while watching the conversation, well it was more like an argument, between Jagged and his manager Bob Roth. Bob was stating that they should leave the song writing to the professionals while Jagged protested, saying that his niece was overflowing with talent and that she could do it no problem. Penny was on the phone with someone but Marinette didn't eavesdrop in her conversation. She stated at the blank notebook in front of her, eyeing it suspiciously. Then she got an idea and began scribbling down the lyrics she had in mind, not knowing that she had unintentionally gained the attention of everyone in the room. She managed to write the whole song in one sitting which was very impressive even for professional song writers at the time. "Did it" she said putting the pen down. Penny then came over to take the notebook and read what the bluenette had written. 'I hope it's ok'

"Wow Mari, this is great!" Penny said her mouth agape. She passed it to Jagged but Bob had snatched it out of his hands, only to give it back when Fang looked at him hungrily.

"Yeah, this is rock'n roll Nettie!" He praised her while giving his manager a 'I told you so' look.

"Yes this is exactly what we needed, a little change in the album. Thank you for this Marinette. We shall produce the song while you can sing the lyrics-"

"If that's alright will you of course" Jagged said, interrupting his manager.

Marinette nodded hesitantly. "I can give it a shot" she murmured.

Marinette walked home after visiting Jagged and showing Damian the designs she had in plan for his brothers, without showing the design she made for him. She was careful not to shake her purse too much as Tikki was sleeping, it was a busy day for the kwami as Marinette had let her go visit Plagg for some 'Kwami business'. Marinette didn't press for answers though. Soon she entered her parents bakery to find them already there, waiting for her.

"Maman, Papa what is it?" She asked.

"Your father and I are discussing if we should open a second bakery" Sabine answered enthusiastically.

"There's a few spots available in Marseille, we already booked a flight and a hotel to stay at" Tom answered, maybe even more excited than his wife.

"That's great! But isn't Marseille far away? It's closer to Italy than Paris" Marinette answered.

"Well surprisingly, we're already well known there" Tom replied.

"Oh cool! When will you be leaving?"

"On Saturday at 2 am" Her mother replied. "It's late but it was the next available flight. We'll be gone for a week maybe longer depending on all the paper work"

"Well you better start packing then!" Marinette said happy for both her parents. "I'll be going to bed now. Good night!" She hugged both her parents before going upstairs to change and finishing up her designs.

~~~

Adrien sat in front of his computer early before school, looking through all of Kagami's recent posts and he liked the photo that she posted yesterday, the photo was of when they went for ice cream earlier today. Alya and Nino were also in the picture, smiling for the camera but Adrien noticed someone else in the background. 'Marinette...' She was eating her ice cream, unbeknownst to the picture being taken, with the spoon still in her mouth. Adrien felt distracted by the way the sun reflected off her hair. He loved Kagami truly but his new love for Marinette shadowed it. "Plagg" Adrien said. "I think I have a thing for bluenettes".

"So your type is blue-haired girls? What makes you say that?" The kwami replied, not really enjoying the conversation.

"Well I like Ladybug, Kagami and Marinette and they all have one thing in common. They all have blue hair" Adrien sighed. "The last thing I need is another blue-haired girl to come into my life"

"Ughhh this is too cheesy, I much prefer actual cheese" Plagg groaned while looking around for Camembert.

Adrien sighed, smiling while going back to think of the girls he liked. He liked Ladybug for her quick, sly and smart nature. Kagami was incredibly skilled and very easy to relate to. And Marinette had a kind personality as well as unmatchable beauty. He couldn't decide which one he liked most as all the options were as great as the others. Then a notification on his computer distracted him from his thoughts. It was a notification that Jagged Stone had posted something. 'Huh, I wonder what it could be'

~~~

Jason was flicking through the channels on the TV, looking for something interesting to watch when a notification appeared on his phone. 'What's this?' He then realised that it was a trending post from Jagged Stone and went to view it. "HOLY SH-"

"Master Jason, language"Alfred reminded him.

"Oh yeah sorry" he whispered before shouting again. "HOLY MOTHER OF UM SOMETHING!"

Dick and Tim then entered the room, wondering what Jason was talking about. "What?" Dick asked.

Jason then connected his phone to the TV and showed the post he was talking about.

@official_jaggedstone

(Photo of a blue-haired girl with a medium long braid and her back facing the camera, writing on something)

Wonder what MDC is writing up for the bonus track? 🤔🤔🤔🤔

All three of the boys then fanboyed over finally being able to see what their favourite designer, and idol, looked like. Alfred then sighed while exiting the room.

"She's pretty!"

"She looks smart!"

"What's she writing?"

"I'm gonna call Damian, that room looks similar to the room he's staying in"

"Yes do, I want to pester him"

Dick then dialed a number on his phone. After a few rings, the phone finally answered.

"Tt, Yes?" A stern voice came through on the other side.

"HAVE YOU SEEN JAGGED'S RECENT POST!?" Tim shouted into the microphone.

~~~

Damian had already seen Jagged's post, he smiled to himself. He was about to go back to reading his book when his phone rang. He would've picked it up straight away if he hadn't see the name, it was Dick. He let the phone ring for a little while before answering.

"Tt, Yes?" He said in a stern voice.

"HAVE YOU SEEN JAGGED'S RECENT POST!?" Luckily Damian had the phone further away from his ear otherwise Tim would've exploded his eardrums.

"What about it?"

"He posted an image of MDC, the very first one ever on the internet!" Dick answered excitedly. "There aren't any pictures of her anywhere".

Damian smiled to himself knowing that he had seen MDC before his brothers, he had seen her smile. "There aren't?"

"Yeah! Weird right? She doesn't even show up to Jagged's live performances!" It was Jason's turn to speak now.

"Well I'm sure she goes to the performances, she's just never seen" Tim told his brother in a matter-of-fact way.

Damian rolled his eyes. "Tt, bye now" he said, immediately turning his phone off not allowing any of his brothers to protest. He then texted Marinette.

Me: Just got off the phone with my brothers, they were fanboying over you.

Surprisingly Marinette replied straight away.

Angel: They are too? Everyone is fangirling over MDC

Me: Because of Jagged's post, he posted a picture of you. The back of your head specifically

Angel: Oh hah I see it now, I guess that has to be my signature hairstyle as MDC now.

Me: It looks great on you though

Angel: You really think so?

Me: Mhm

Angel: Aw, thanks

~~~

Marinette had blushed when Damian said she looked good in that hairstyle. She really liked him. Then Marinette looked at the time, she was early for once. She decided to make use of this and get ready for school. She had finished getting ready quickly and she was able to walk instead of run to school like she usually did. When she entered, she noticed that there was barely anyone here. 'Perfect! I can work on my designs' that was until a familiar face showed up.

"Hey girl! You're here early wow!" The sound of her best friend made Marinette laugh until her facial expression changed from surprised to smug. Marinette was about to ask but Alya had brought her to the locker room where they were alone. "So girl, spill"

"What?"

"Do you like Chat Noir?"

Marinette giggled but she saw her best friend's face. "Oh you're not joking"

"Nope, now you can tell me so that I can get you both on a date." She blushed profusely. "And I ain't backing down, I've spent too much time on trying to find out who he is. Don't think I haven't noticed how you're jumping at anytime to be with this boy." She said the last statement with a soft voice.

Marinette sighed, grateful of her best friend but hesitant to tell her without Damian's permission as he never seemed like one for social interaction. "I'll ask" she said while taking her phone out.

Me: Shaytan, my best friend found out that I've been sneaking off to go see you.

Shaytan: Césaire?

Me: Yeah

Shaytan: You said she wanted to be a reporter right? Well then I guess this is expected, she did a good job.

Me: So should I tell her your name?

Shaytan: That's up to you

Me: Ok thanks!

Marinette put her phone away and looked at her best friend.

"So?" Alya asked. "Can you tell me?"

Marinette nodded. "So um, his name is D-Damian"

———

Taglist: @little-bluestar, @miracleofadisaster, @frieddonutsweets, @jjmjjktth, @genderfluidmoma, @starlit-dreaming, @icerosecrystal

[aziraphales-library]

Hey love your blog!!!

could you pls recommend me some band member crowley or any type of musician crowley ??? could be a rockband member, pianist, violinist, guitarist........

Oh, of course!

AUs:

Private Gig [E], WIP by madrabbitgirl

Aziraphale is on a miserable date with Gabriel, his most recent Grindr mistake, and is considering breaking things off when a sweaty musician in tight trousers appears before him, basically making the decision a snap. Aziraphale hasn't seen Crowley in a few decades, but their reunion is... passionate to say the least. Will they ever talk about why they stopped speaking in the first place? How does a stuffy bookseller go about dating a rock star?

Prompt was 'feedback' and I, of course, thought of microphones.

Soho [E] by Lurlur

Aziraphale lives a quiet kind of life, running a quiet specialist bookshop in one of the liveliest districts of London. He's content with his lot, happy with his friends, tolerant of his probably-human housemate, living vicariously through the gossip pages.

One day, a chance encounter with Anthony Crowley, lead singer of wildly successful rock band The Demons, threatens to turn his whole world upside down.

pop! goes my heart [E], WIP by attheborder

When has-been musician Anthony Crowley is recruited by pop singer Anathema Device to write a song for her new record, he jumps on the chance to resuscitate his career with a hit. There's only one problem: he can't write lyrics to save his life.

But a chance meeting with a stranger by the name of Aziraphale, with a poetic streak that's a perfect fit for the song, changes everything for Crowley. Together, they'll create something beautiful, fight the forces of the music industry, and perhaps even find a way back into love...

A Music and Lyrics AU for the GO Rom Com Event, complete with all-new original songs written and recorded by the author!

Or Be Nice [E], WIP charlottemadison

Crowley and Aziraphale are neighbours. And...it does not go at all well, until it does.

A human AU in which Aziraphale is a bookseller, Crowley is a drummer, and they are both petty disasters in the worst/best way.

+++

“So what’s your deal?”

“My-my-my deal?” Aziraphale stammered. “I’m a bookseller, is my deal.”

“Oh,” Crowley replied, sounding as uninterested as it was possible to sound.

“It’s just, I couldn’t help overhearing, and --” Aziraphale swallowed hard. “You really are an accomplished musician. But I thought -- for after 11PM -- perhaps we could reach some arrangement?”

“Arrangement?”

Aziraphale felt his his smile turning forced. “Such as, perhaps, playing the drums *before* eleven? Instead of after?”

Crowley stared blankly at him. In fact he stared for so long that Aziraphale briefly wondered if he'd lapsed into ancient Greek again, which he was known to do in bad dreams or during panic attacks.

The Magic of Christmas [G] by Nadzieja

Crowley's dream has come true - he is an acclaimed pianist and has everything he could ever want from life: fame, money, women, men… no commitments, no obligations and no one to hold him back. But is he truly happy? Could his life look any different? A dream he has once falling asleep on a hotel couch while watching telly and eating yesterday's chips might answer these questions...

A Happy Christmas Piece!

Canon:

greatest hits [M] by attheborder

“But my dear, I just can’t believe you never told me that you had joined a musical group. I would have come out to support you— at your gigs!”

“First of all, never say ‘gigs’ again. Second of all, not my fault you never noticed when I showed up to dinner with a great big guitar case slung over my shoulder.”

(Aziraphale accidentally discovers Crowley’s secret: he was in a band in the 90s. And he wrote a whole album of love songs…)

Here's a Musician Crowley tag!

~Mod N

[machinegunbun]

UnConventional Bakers [Pete]

Requested? no

word count? 1.7k

TW? None

A/n: it’s like 80% dialogue bc it’s supposed to be a tv show. whadder ya gonna do

The props department did a wonderful job this season, comedy inspired props sprinkled about the set. Mic stands ended in lollipops, rice krispy stools covered in modeling chocolate, Comedians stood at every station, patiently awaiting directions. 

Conventional Bakers was finally ready for shooting its first season. It was a show about famous people coming together on a baking show and competing. It would have everyone from singers to actors or, in this case, comedians. Every season would be inspired by the careers of the people competing.

“On this season of UnConventional Bakers we are joined by,” the camera took turns panning to each comedian as you said their name. 

“Kevin Hart, Pete Davidson, Adam Sandler and…” you paused for dramatic effect “Fluffy!!!”

The comedians protest coming fast after 

Why’d he get all the excitement?” Adam asks

“Yeah, i’m literally your fiance what the fuck.” Pete adds, laughing “I don’t like that, i don’t like that shit. I got my eye on you Gabriel.”

“Don’t hate me cause I'm beautiful.” Fluffy replies

“Bakers! Comedians, whatever,” you call out, trying to regain their attention, Pete playfully mumbled but returned his attention “if you want a chance at winning you will have to pay attention.”

“Got it, go. No wait… yeah okay, go.” Adam interrupts, causing you to bite back a smile. This would be a long shoot

“For tonight's challenge, you’re in for a treat. Because it’s only the first round, we’ll take it easy on you and allow teams.” muted murmurs fell over the room as they decided who would be on whose team, “Tonight we will be making the one thing a comedian couldn’t live without.” Your co-star, Nicole Byers, continues.

“Weed.” Pete guesses,

“No, their audience.”

“Oh, speak for yourself.” 

“You will be making your very own audience cupcakes. When we say go you will head to your baking stations where you will find step by step instructions on how to make your audience, along with photo references and the clock will begin counting down.” You say

“Go, go, go! What are you waiting for?!” Nicole rushes, you take your seat as they make their way to the respective stations. The teams ended up being Pete and Kevin, Gabe and Adam.

Things were going pretty smoothly, the comedians racing back and forth from the ingredients to their stations as things began starting up. As you look around, you see Pete and Kevin looking confused as they stare at the instructions.

“Something wrong, sweety?” you ask

“No, all good over here. Thanks for asking.” Gabe pipes up, you laugh and make your way over to Pete

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I shouldn’t have dropped out of college.”

“How come? What's wrong?”

“I need ⅔   a cup, but there’s not a ⅔  measurement cup.” he says

“Well, if you need ⅔  but there's not one, you just take two--” 

“Don’t patronize me. I got it.” Kevin cuts you off in the middle of explaining, grabbing two handfuls of flour and throwing it in the mixer “There, that should work.” 

You sigh, making your way over to the other stations to check on how everyone else was doing. Adam was doing well, which wasn’t a surprise considering he’s a father and probably does some baking at home.

“Gabe, how are you doing?” 

“Not good, I’m used to eating cake and not making it.”

“Oh hush, you’re doing fine!” You encourage, leaning forward to whisper to him “Kevin just measured flour with his hands, so I think you’ll be okay.”

“Guys, I think they’re talking about you.” Adam yells

“Yeah, I know.” Pete laughs.

“That's okay, cause you know what? Haters gonna hate.” Kevin yells

After making your rounds you sat back down, turning to face a laughing Nicole.

“That wasn’t sugar, that was salt.” She barely squeaks out “They’re gonna be so gross” you nod and laugh along, all but excited for the dishes that would soon be in front of you.

“On that note, can we get some water?” You call out to the team behind you

“And a medic?” Nicole adds

“And a mathematician. You understand this shit?” Pete says

“What? Basic measurements? Yeah baby, I do.” 

Before you knew it the timer had gone off and the cupcakes were sat in front of you. 

“So, these are what your audience were supposed to look like, and this is what they do look like.” Nicole says, vaguely gesturing to the cupcakes

“We- we uh, we took some creative liberties.” Pete says through a laugh

“Well, let’s see what it tastes like.” you say, grabbing one from the crowd and cheersing it with Nicole’s

“Might as well get this over with.” she says, making a clink noise with her mouth, as she does there's another noise too. The rock hard exteriors made a clunk noise. Your jaw dropped as you made eye contact with Nicole, not believing what had just happened

“Wait.” you say, grabbing another and throwing it at the ground with all the force you could muster. It cracked directly in half, crumbs flying across the floor.

“Pete!” you yell, an amused smile painted across your face. Pete laughs, covering his face 

“I have no idea what happened.”he says, picking up the cupcake from the floor

“This is my passion, how did you fuck up this hard?!”

“I have no fucking idea.” he laughs, crumbling it up in his hand.

“I guess we still have to taste it.” you say, grabbing another and cracking a piece off on the table, handing one to Nicole. When you bite down there's an audible crunch that makes everyone in the room wince. You can’t help the expression that overcomes your face as the taste hits your tongue, looking over to Nicole to confirm it wasn’t just you. It wasn’t.

You attempt to open your water, your hand slipping again and again until Pete walks over and opens it for you, feeding you the water as he apologizes through his laughter. It took you a minute of held back gags to recompose yourself, but when you finally did you said,

“Your BLEEP is sweeter than this.” You say, deeply preferring it over the burnt, salty, crunchy thing in front of you.

“Really?” Pete asks, laughing and when you nod your head it only makes him laugh harder.

“Pete, you fucked up Pete.” Kevin says. 

“Dont throw this on him, you’re the one who wouldn’t listen.” You say, looking over to Nicole who had resorted to licking the icing off the cupcake

“Look at what you’ve done to this poor lady. You should be ashamed. It’s gotta be a zero from me” You laugh, more than ready to move on.

“You know what, the icing wasn’t bad,” They began to fight over who had made the icing. “I don’t care, just promise to never do that again. Adam, Gabe, before I take a bite you have to promise me it won’t be like that.” Nicole says, dead serious. They shake their head, letting out little reassurances while choking down their laughter. You take a deep breath before lifting the cupcake to your mouth and taking a small test bite, surely traumatized. 

To your delight, it was actually very good. You smiled and nodded, taking another bite as Kevin and Pete groaned, knowing they’d surely lost.

“I feel like theirs was so bad we can’t even celebrate.” Adam says.

“Yeah, i don’t think we need to add insult to injury by announcing the winners of this round. On to the next?!” You cheer, preparing to announce what would come next.

“For your next challenge, we will be making cupriphon- cupcakeriphones- Okay, the name hasn’t been completely sorted out yet, cupcake microphones!” You announce

“Yes! And because we felt bad for the loser, that’s just in the script so i had to say it, i don’t actually feel bad for you that was disgusting. Because we felt bad for the loser, we decided to give them a leg up. If you look at the stations, two of them have buttons. They’re called the happy heckler buttons and when you press them a timer will be set and either Y/N or myself will go yell encouragement to your teammates until it goes off.” Nicole says

“Awhh, so sweet. Ready? Set? Go!” You yell, watching them scatter to try to find a station.

“Ay, stay back this is mine.” Fluffy says to Adam, haphazardly wielding a knife, momentarily fighting over a station before Nicole reminds them the timer is counting down. They take a look at their ingredients before rushing over to the storage space and grabbing what they need.

You’d managed to get to the decorating stage with little to no issues when you hear Kevin yelling, “Pete! I need your help, I need those long legs pete.” straining to grab something from the top shelf

“Hold on, one second.” He says, glancing back momentarily as he tried to finish decorating.

“Oh shit, you’re already decorating?” Kevin asks as Pete hands him what he needed before walking back to his station.

“Yeah, catch up.” Pete says

“Okay, i’ll catch up, if that's what you want.” Kevin says, slamming his button down in a melodramatic act of sabotage.

Nicole yells in excitement, ready for some action, running over to distract Pete.

“You dick! I thought we were friends.” he says, slamming his own button. You run over, making sure to get in Kevins face as you encourage him, giving him slaps on the back and shaking his shoulders. Things had gotten very chaotic, very fast.

When the four minutes were over you left Kevin’s station for Pete’s, hanging out with him as his cupcakes cooked in the oven. He was bent over in a hug with you, small kisses being pressed to each others lips.

“Doing so good baby.” you mumble, fingers tangled in his hair. Usually you didn’t like PDA, but you had made an exception today because it had been a long shoot and you missed him.

“Way better than last time.” He confirms, remembering last time they had burnt and opting to check the oven.

“Look at that! This aint fair, Pete’s sleepin with the judges!” Kevin yells, making everyone laugh

“You could be too, Kevin.” Nicole winks

“Nicole, you’re both married.” You remind them

“Hey, that's show business baby.” Kevin jokes

When it all came to an end, Adam ended up winning and it was a surprise.. To no one. He was the only one even kind of equipped to win and he rode that all the way to the finish line.

[leaahhh]

some early august fixations

joe hisaishi’s radio city symphonic orchestra performances of hayao miyazaki’s studio ghibli films 

last saturday morning i was dragging my feet on a walk and ended up at the williamsburg waterfront. i figured i’d allow myself to slump over and indulge in some wallowing on a bench there when i got a phone call from gabrielle. she told me she’d been stood up for a business brunch meeting 4 blocks away and asked if i’d be able to come save her. during our sprawling conversation, she offhandedly mentioned the joe hisaishi concert run, which she’d be working, to which i gasped so loudly it shook the table. two days later, we were seated 3 rows away from the stage at radio city (my first time there in the handful of years i’ve lived in nyc). i knew i’d probably get emotional for an array of reasons, but didn’t expect to start sobbing so hard i shook my seat as the orchestra played the PRINCESS MONONOKE score. very legendary man and very special evening.

an outdoor church service in fort greene

one of my favorite poems is “meditations in an emergency” by cameron awkward-rich. i reference it a lot. “i wake up and it breaks my heart,” reads the opening line. my most treasured ambient playlist on spotify takes its name from the final one: “hand on my heart. hand on my stupid heart.” 

celeste and i went birdwatching in the bronx on sunday. it was an early morning and a mostly rejuvenating experience until i think there was one slightly tooooo long of a stretch of silence in nature, which naturally caused me to hear my own thoughts a little too loudly. i didn’t speak one word on the bus ride home, and as we walked to the deli near celeste’s apartment to get sandwiches, she asked what was on my mind. my response was jumbled, but i tried to explain the fear i sometimes have of “getting better” and how i often find myself inclined to resist healing. “if grief is all i have left of someone,” i said, “how could i let it go?”

at that exact moment, we approached a church service that had taken over the block by the deli. the preacher was yelling into a microphone to a crowd of people standing gathered in the street, perched on stoops, sitting in lawn chairs, congregated on the sidewalks. there was no way past it but to walk right through it. "I WANT YOU TO PUT YOUR HAND OVER YOUR HEART AND REPEAT AFTER ME," he yelled. "I WILL RECOVER." my vision instantly got blurry. "I HAVE LOST SOMETHING I LOVED, AND I WILL RECOVER." 

a group of 50+ strangers surrounding me from all sides, shouting a promise to get better. hands on their hearts. hands on their stupid hearts. 

reddit (hear me out)

someone i loved used to frequently suggest i turn to reddit for advice. i’d roll my eyes, but i did eventually start and never really told him. i haven’t been able to cut the habit even now; in fact, i’m probably on there way too much (almost always reading threads about what to do with that aforementioned love). i don’t post, just scroll and scroll and scroll. it’s sometimes a balm, mostly a cesspool, but occasionally even veers into truly poetic territory. here is a saccharine collage of one-liners i’ve screenshotted amidst my searches this month.