#the only way for zak to have a happy ending is to die and that eats me up inside

[msnihilist]

Yet ANOTHER reason why I adore TSS: love isn't the answer.

The problems that the characters in this show face are physical and very, very real — they cannot be vanquished with the power of love.

Friendship didn't stop the Secret Scientists from turning against Doc and Drew. Doyle loving Abbey didn't stop her from choosing her job over him. Zak's parents loving him unconditionally doesn't stop him from turning to his arch enemy for help.

Love is never enough. Even Van Rook's last words in the finale, which are silly on the surface, are, "You were the only thing I liked almost as much as money." He's saying that Drew's love wasn't enough.

In this show, love never keeps anyone alive, it never keeps them around, it never scares off the monsters lurking in the dark. Love alone isn't enough.

Word of God is dead and all that, sure, but even Jay Stephens said that Zak's powers would have eventually turned him evil. All the love in the world couldn't change that.

The ending was decided from the start. Nothing could have changed fate. The only way to win is to not play.

[nicolesainz]

That’s When (DR3)

Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Warnings : none! Pure fluff. Bit sad. Mentions of Daniel’s departure from Mclaren. Light kissing and few curse words

————————————————————————

“…Daniel will be leaving the Mclaren family at the end of the 2022 season. It was a really difficult decision, but eventually, it ended like this. We would like to thank him for everything that he has done for the team those two years. It’s a sad chapter that needs to end”

The words leave Zak Brown’s mouth very simply but have such a huge effect on all the team. I could hear nothing but my heart shattering. I absolutely hated this. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. I had stood by Daniel through thick and thin and in a few months, it would be over. When I didn’t want to!

After Carlos left, the void was big. Lando wasn’t himself the first few months. I was sad to see that Carlos decided to move on. I was very happy for him though! Going to a team with rich history. A team that every driver would die to drive for and represent. I knew it was difficult for him to leave but at the same time it would be a waste to let this opportunity go.

When Daniel was assigned to Mclaren I was thrilled. He is a driver I admire! To be his race engineer was a privilege. I was scared at first but after I met him for the first time in person, all my worries flew away. I was closer to Daniel than anyone to the team. Even Lando. I was with him 24/7. Whether up close or on the phone.

Daniel trusted me and I did him. It was a relationship full of trust, faith and love. Obviously for Daniel it was a friend love and for me something more. Of course, I couldn’t tell him nor anyone about how I felt. I would be thrown out of the team for engaging romantically with one of the drivers.

When I opened Instagram my entire page was filled with announcements that Daniel was leaving and it made me feel even more bad. Twitter was the same. But at the same time I was seeing the reactions from different people. Many can’t believe it and feel it’s unfair. Others believe it’s a good idea and Mclaren should upgrade. I truly hoped Daniel wouldn’t see all these negative comments about his career with the team.

I went back to the garage to start developing a new strategy for the upcoming race in Spa. If these were going to be Daniel’s last days at Mclaren, let’s finish them on a high at least. My eyes had begun to dry from not removing them away from the screen for a long time. I thought I was hallucinating for a moment when I saw Daniel behind my laptop’s screen.

“Earth to Y/N! Are you alright?”

“Huh? What?” I felt half asleep and drained

“It’s past 8 pm, what are you still doing here?” he closes my laptop and falls on his knees to sit beside me

“I was developing a new strategy for Spa. I lost track of time apparently. I’m so sorry” I lightly rubbed my eyes to gain back my vision

“Why are you even apologizing for? Are you okay? You seem a bit off” I could sense the worry in his voice. He knew that I was aware of the situation

“I feel like your departure has something to do with me. Like I am to blame. That I am the cause of how things ended up being like this. When Zak announced us that you won’t be here in 2023 I felt like the end was coming. Like my life was coming to an end”

His fingers were caressing my cheeks softly, wiping away my tears. A small smile appeared on the corner of my lips and immediately my eyes connected with Daniel’s. I’ve never seen him look at me with such tenderness. Last time his eyes were sparkling and radiating happiness, was in Monza of last year. One of the few times I’ve seen Daniel smile but not only on the outside, but on the inside too. When he ran towards me after the podium to hug me, I could feel his heart racing and beating incredibly fast. Faster than any of the cars on track.

“Why would anyone blame you? You’ve been a great help and my biggest supporter those two years. At my highs and at my lows. No one has stood by my side the way you’ve done. You are literally one of the few reason I’m excited about a race weekend. I owe you all my successes with Mclaren and definitely not my lowest points. These were just unlucky moments. So, why would you ever think me or anyone would blame you for how things ended? It was bound to happen and I was sort of aware it was coming my way”

Daniel cupped my face on his hands and connected our foreheads. His hot breath was falling my lips. My head and heart were buzzing. I could barely feel my eyes moving. They were constantly connected to his.

“I’d follow you to any team! Whether it means I stay unemployed but you are racing. I truly didn’t want this to end. If I had more time on my hands you wouldn’t leave. I wouldn’t allow it. If it was up to me. This isn’t right”

“I was bound to leave. And you always try your best and believe me I know that firsthand. But who says things have ended?”

Before I could say anything, he smashed his lips onto mine, gifting me the most intoxicating and sweet kiss. His lips were soft and his rhythm was slow. It wasn’t a hungry kiss. More like one with hidden for long time but mutual feelings. A kiss that made butterflies go around my stomach. A kiss which gave me more thrill than anything in the world. That made me feel alive again.

“You’ve been the best part of my days for two years now. Why would I leave you darling? Our time starts now. Nothing has ended. I may have lost a seat but I’ve won at life. That’s much better to me”

And that’s when I truly knew that I was in love with Daniel Ricciardo

————————————————————————

AN: So Daniel isn’t exactly off F1 since he’s back at Red Bull (WOHOOOO) as a third driver. But I still wanted to write this. I will surely miss seeing one of my fav drivers racing with my fav number on his car! Hope to see you again on track Ric!

[peppymint1986]

Those of you who follow my writing are probably aware my annual writing event has flopped this year.  Boo for writer’s block.  I am going to try and combat this by branching out and writing one-shots for some new fandoms.  Well, new writing fandoms, I have been a fan of the Legend of Drizzt for a long time.

Inspired by Merfilly.  Specifically their series Different Paths but this could be any au where Drizzt ends up unexpectedly on the surface.  

Volte-face

Jarlaxle made no indication he knew he was no longer alone.  It was impossible to say what it was that had tipped him off exactly.  He did not hear or see anything to indicate something was amiss.  None of the sentries had signaled an alarm.  

Regardless, the drow hadn’t lasted this long in Menzoberranzan by mistrusting his instincts.  There.  Jarlaxle spun, dagger dropping smoothly into his hand.  Only managing to alter its course at the last possible moment before it left his fingers.    

Thud.  

The other drow didn’t even flinch.  Unbothered by the knife quivering in the wall just inches from his neck.  

The same could not be said for Jarlaxle.  “Zak,” he hissed, striding across the room, heels practically striking sparks.  His features were twisted in anger.  That had been far too close.  However, as he approached his friend the anger quickly gave way to concern.  “Zaknafein?”

“I thought I was ready,” Zaknafein said, face still unnervingly blank.  Though his daughter still breathed, Vierna had been lost to him long ago.  “I thought I was prepared to lose him.”  He had even tried to take the matter into his own hands once, thinking it was better for his dancer to die as himself.  He hadn’t been able to do it.  

Frowning, Jarlaxle took another step forward, now close enough to touch his friend.  “Drizzt?” he questioned softly.  As far as he knew, there was no other whose fate would affect Zakanfein like this.

“The raiding party returned without him.”  The weapons master had not stayed to hear the details.  It didn’t really matter.  All that mattered was his son was gone.  

“I’m sorry Zak.”

The weapons master stiffened at the first touch of a comforting hand on his shoulder.  Then he shuddered, before turning to bury his face in Jarlaxle’s colorfully clad shoulder.  Paying no mind to the arm that wrapped around his shoulders in return, or the way the fabric beneath his eyes was growing damp.  “I’m done Jarlaxle.”

The mercenary felt his heart skip a beat.  Surely the other didn’t mean . . .

“Take me from this place.”

And just like that, the world resumed its spin.  “Of course.”  

He had urged Zaknafein to leave House Do'urden many times, but the other drow had always refused.  Jarlaxle should have been thrilled at his friend’s request.  But somehow, seeing his friend’s grief, he could not help but grieve with him for a life cut far too short.

Poor Zak.  But unlike him, we know Drizzt is alive so there would eventually be a happy ending.  No guarantee I will write it though.  No guarantee I won’t either.  We’ll see. 

[semperama]

DTS Season 4, Ep 2

Live-blogging under the cut again. Mama, I'm scared.

We didn't even make it to the title card and I already want to bail out. This is gonna be rough.

I'll take Cyril and Christian and Zak all hyping Daniel up. I'll take it.

"By the end of this season, I do predict an array of podiums." LORD, I'M GONNA FUCKIN DIE.

Well, I guess now that [redacted] has had a speaking role in DTS, I can't complain about how inescapable he is.

Will saying that signing a race winning driver doesn't necessarily guarantee success and then cutting to a shot of Seb.....ouch.

Literally the only way I'm going to make it through this without going back to hating Lando is by reminding myself it's an understandable reaction to losing his boyfriend.

I feel like you can tell even P6 and outqualifying Lando isn't good enough for Daniel. Like yeah, maybe it's stating the obvious and probably true of every driver, but I don't he's really ever truly happy unless he's P1.

The lingering shot of Daniel's plate of carrots and hummus. Let the man eat, for fuck's sake.

"It's impossible to judge a new driver on the first race." Again, thank you, Will, for providing absolutely nothing of value.

"He's a lot better than that." We know, Christian. We know. D:

Daniel asking what the fine is for not doing media is truly like a kick in the gut. And his poor sad little face. "What if I'm just a cunt." I'm literally going to sob. This is awful. Awful.

I DON'T EVEN WANT TO WATCH MONACO, FUCK.

The juxtaposition between how well Charles and Carlos are getting along versus how Lando and Daniel were getting along.....I'm again trying not to read this as a flaw in Lando's character, but. It's difficult tbh.

Noooo, don't show footage of 2018, my heart can't take it.

I don't think I can ever be on the Daniel Return to Red Bull train, just because I really don't think he wants to be a number 2 driver, but I can see the appeal.

"I don't think any driver would feel sympathy for another driver." Well, Lando, we know THAT'S not true, since plenty of other drivers DID express sympathy, but whatever. Also most people learn you don't have to just say everything that crosses your mind, whether it's true or not, but WHATEVER. *deep breath*

Oh good, a time-out from being heartbroken for Daniel to feel heartbroken for Charles. D:

I just want to understand. Like, when Daniel says he's struggling on the radio, what does that even mean? Is it the setup of the car? This is one time I was DTS was less about drama and more about details, because WHY. I still want to understand whyyyyy.

I'm so distraught. That was difficult to watch.

[mariuscomehome]

//minor spoilers for marius character story chapter 2!!! and luke's chapter 2 as well oops

i was going to reblog this onto the moron post i made in the early hours of this morning but it quickly grew way beyond my original intentions, so im annexing it. i promise there's a funny conclusion just give it a little time !! why are there so many words ;-;

that post came about because i was thinking about nxx group dynamics, particularly marius (BIG SURPRISE LOL) and how from what we know of him he doesnt seem to have many close friends. if any. his schedule is incredibly packed from school, running pax, nxx investigations, and his own art, and we know he isn't getting enough sleep, (yknow what zak made a great post analyzing the boys schedules here ya go) to the point that he considers giving up art to make time for his other responsibilities. there's no way he has a social life - i'm sure he did, but it would have been the first thing to go, to make room for everything else in his life. every mention of him attending a social event, iirc, has been directly related to some kind of business venture or obligation, unless he's hanging out with mc, who seems to be the only person he's able (or willing) to make that kind of time for.

which is something he has in common with luke, it seems. lol.

IM PUTTING IN A READMORE THIS POST IS TOO DANG LONG LOL

back to marius. i need to do some more research on the timeline, but my understanding is that he was studying overseas and got called back when giann went missing, one or two years ago? to run pax. (which is the official story, more likely to me is that it was completely voluntary as he wanted to look into his brother's disappearance - was he involved with the nxx before then? had he already met artem and vyn, or no? if anyone knows the answers to these questions please please tell me). so in all likelihood he's left his entire social circle in florence, come back to hang out in an office all day, and then go sit in a meeting with vyn, his tutor, and artem, who is eight years older than him. i'm sure normally they get along just fine, but when does marius get to be a kid? when does he mess around with people his own age? he doesnt.

enter mc, who is much closer to him in age, and who he doesn't hesitate to joke around with. she must be a huge relief to him. and he met her right before being accused of murder. can he not rest??

pivot. we're talking about luke now. it goes without saying that luke is, has been, and will be going through some pretty heavy shit, and mc is simultaneously a huge reprieve from that and a bludgeon that he uses to destroy himself emotionally at every single opportunity. the whiplash is insane he's like "haha this is great i'm in love with you and you are my best friend and i am going to die forever changing the trajectory of your life, hurting you and that's unforgivable and i should stay away from you but i can't because i'm a terrible selfish person- haha what's that? no i'm fine! how are you?" i hate him.

yeah so then it's like when does luke get a break? huh? we know he has aaron, who is really good for him and helping him work through his stuff, but his stuff is irreparably tied to his complex feelings about mc and his own mortality etc, etc, and also aaron is literally his doctor. every single one of their conversations is like "luke, try harder" "no. im gonna die soon." "you will with that attitude i will FIX YOU MYSELF, STOP BEING LIKE THIS." "..... still got that expiry date tho" like even the person who is arguably the best for luke's mental state, actually understands what is going on with him and is actively trying to help him at every opportunity to the point of literally robbing him and sending him on a.. scavenger hunt.... aaron what are you doing

luke literally cannot escape his issues. marius cannot escape his work. i think they should, (after spending enough time around each other to kind of figure each other out, become immune to the other's specific brand of annoying, stop being jealous at how effortlessly close the other is to mc- look it might take a little time) be friends, and find that kind of respite in each other, where their other obligations just aren't even relevant and they can just kind of let the facade fall away and do whatever. they're closer in age and they both need more time to be young and impulsive and have other people who they can do that with.

i think they should be stupid young men who do stupid things. they roughhouse. they both like... extreme sports? i think? they drink together. marius, who knows the perfect amount of wine to drink to get just tipsy enough at a work function. luke, who knows where to buy the best, cheapest beer. swapping beverages and immediately getting piss drunk and calling mc together to tell her that shes missing out, she should have come with them, boo, and its four in the morning and she only picks up because she woke up early to add six pages to a report thats due on artems desk at seven, and she still pretends to get annoyed at them but shes really just happy to see them getting along.

vyn, luke, and marius being left alone in the nxx meeting room for some reason. by the end of it, the table is broken clean in two. luke and marius both blame vyn, who asserts that he never touched that table, but doesn't directly disagree with them and offers to buy a new one. (HE'S SO OMINOUS....)

the new table has wheels so when marius and mc get to a meeting early, he tries to lean on it while he's flirting and ends up on his ass. he sprawls out on the floor and tries to keep going as though this was totally intentional (because mc is laughing and its worth it), but of course luke walks in and he gets soooo embarrassed.

let them be morons!!!

[kaetiesmindpalace]

I’ll Be There -- A Destination Fear One Shot (Tanner Wiseman/Reader)

~CW: mentions of blood~

          The new season of Destination Fear was starting off with a new face amidst the cast. Seeing as this televised experiment revolves around how fear affects the mind, why not see how it affects someone who has not experienced any of this before? It also helped that you had been intrigued by the premise for a while and that you are dating Tanner, one of the cast members.

           The first location? Bobby Mackey’s Music World in Wilder, Kentucky.

           Pulling up to the location with you, Tanner who had an arm around you, and Chelsea in the front of the RV, it all seemed surreal. The stories involving the place including people being physically attacked made you very terrified for everyone’s safety.

           “I have an idea,” Dakota says after all the equipment is set up.

           Everyone by now knows that what follows those words usually is not a good idea. Well, they were good ideas in the sense that most of the time it was to increase the fear being tested, not so much a good idea for everyone’s liking and wanting to do.

           “We should start off with solos. Tanner, you have the honor of writing everyone’s name down to figure out who’s going first,” Dakota proclaims.

           Just as Tanner is about to start writing everyone’s name down, you spoke up with your own idea, “Why don’t I just do it and go first?”

           Everyone just stops and stares at you for your question, confusion and concern on their faces. Can you blame them? No one had offered to go do the crazy thing before.

           “Don’t give me that look. Does it really seem fair to pick names out of a hat when the only one who hasn’t done a solo is myself? I say let’s level the playing field a bit before having to pick names from a hat,” you say with as much confidence as you can muster.

           Dakota, Chelsea, and Alex nod their head a bit, understanding what you were saying. Tanner, on the other hand, still had concern written across his face as he approached you.

           “Are you sure about this?” he asks.

           “As sure as I can be,” you respond while looking at his handsome face, “I’ll have to do a solo eventually anyways so no point in trying to hide from it.”

           He nods a bit, understanding the implications of it all. You two and the rest of the crew were on this trip to explore fear and knew there is no way to protect one another from the scary things that lurk in these places 100% of the time. Sometimes, you must face these things head on. Was Tanner still nervous about you doing the first solo at your first ever location on the trip? Of course, but you made up your mind and are not often easily swayed to change it, and he knew that.

           As you gathered the equipment to head into Bobby Mackey’s alone, Tanner started to ramble, “Be safe out there. Walkie us if you need help,” before giving you a kiss on the cheek.

           “I may come up with some dumb ideas, but I’m not stupid enough to not call for help when I need it,” you say with a little bit of snark to diffuse the tension just a little bit.

           Luckily, the response did just as you hope it would. Everyone chuckled slightly and you started to head towards the entrance of Bobby Mackey’s with your camera in hand.

           “Alright, so my initial thought is to go big and go into the basement. Dumb idea, I know, but fear is what we are searching for, so fear is what I’m trying to get. The basement is where numerous people have gotten scratched, including Zak Bagans of Ghost Adventures fame, whom we all know Dakota has worked with. What’s scarier than the possibility of this happening?” you ramble on camera.

           As you enter the basement, you immediately get an eerie feeling. Something is not right, but you must keep chugging through with this; it’s your job now. Finding a place to sit on the floor, you decide to start the normal investigative procedures.

           “I’m right by the well in the basement and I’m going to do an EVP session with this digital recorder to see if I get any response,” you say as you hit the record button. “What is your name? How did you die? Why do you stay here?” you ask while giving some space in between questions to let the spirits answer.

           You continued to question for about ten minutes before stopping and playing back the recording. It seemed like nothing wanted to interact with you; you weren’t getting responses to your questions. That is, until you listened to your final question of “Is it true that there is something demonic here?”

        A loud, deep growl came through that you did not hear in real time. Your mouth formed an O just hearing it. With whatever in the basement besides yourself hearing this out loud, the growl seemed to shift the energy in the room. While the initial feeling when you entered was eerie, now it feels unsafe and that someone or something is right behind you.

       And maybe something was because suddenly you felt a burning sensation take over your back. You had seen enough paranormal shows in your life and heard many stories involving encounters to know that a burning sensation tends to mean that you got scratched.

       “So, I’m pretty certain that I got scratched across my back. I felt that burning sensation often described when scratches like these occur, but I can’t see my back. I’m going to have to call for some help to see how bad it is. I know I don’t look as scared as I probably should be; I think I am mostly internalizing it to try and process what is happening before I have a huge freak out,” you say into the camera as you take out your walkie.

        “Hey guys,” you say into your walkie.

       Tanner, Chelsea, Dakota, and Alex were all just chatting like normal friends do waiting for you to come back or walkie them. Even with the thought that you could walkie them, you unknowingly walkie scared them causing everyone to jump at the sound of your voice.

       “Guys,” you say as your voice cracks at the end, betraying your true feelings you were trying to internalize into nonexistence.

        Tanner was already up and booking it with his camera towards Bobby Mackey’s before you even explained the entire situation. Chelsea decides to grab the walkie and respond while everyone was grabbing equipment to try and catch up to Tanner.

        “Go from Chelsea” she states in as clear of a tone as one can while trying to respond and grab their camera at the same time.

        “So, I’m certain something scratched my back here in the basement, but I can’t see it for myself. Can someone come and check it for me? I want to know how bad it is” you say trying to reign in your fear.

         “Tanner took off before you said where you were, so he should be there sooner than us if one of the guys decide to yell to him where you are in the building,” Chelsea states just as Dakota yells towards the general direction of the entrance “Go to the basement Tanner!” before they all take off to get to you.

         Tanner was indeed the first of the group to find you, having had the head start, long legs, and hearing the location you were in being screamed to him from far behind. Since you were still sitting on the floor, probably too scared to move from the incident but it had only felt like a second had passed since it happened, he knelt down next to you and put his camera down on the ground. With both hands free, he grabs your face and kisses your forehead before staring deeply into your eyes.

      “Are you alright?” he asks with concern in his voice.

      “I’m a bit shaken up currently. Something scratched my back; it was just this burning sensation all over. Can you check it for me and take a picture of it? I want to see how bad it is,” you mention to him.

       He grabs his flashlight and phone as you start to push up the back of your shirt for him to look at the damage done. Once the flashlight is on, he helps lift the back of your shirt more to get a better look.

      “Oh babe,” he says while taking a picture, “this definitely isn’t good.”

       He hands his phone over to you to see the picture of your back. What you saw were three large scratches marring your back that at some points were bleeding just a bit. You gasp at the sight, having not had thought it would be this bad. You had seen the Ghost Adventures episode where Zak got scratched, but his weren’t bleeding. Why were yours?

       At that precise moment was when the rest of the crew arrived. With one quick glance at your back, they knew they were in for a tough night. Luckily, someone had packed a small first aid kit in the backpack, so your scratches were cleaned up with antibiotic ointment and some bandages were put on the areas that were bleeding. With you now standing with everyone, Dakota nixes the idea of more solos and the group continues to investigate the rest of Bobby Mackey’s.

      After a few more EVPs, some words on the Ovilus, and Alex seeing a shadow figure, it was time to figure out sleeping arrangements. Tanner took the lead of writing out the locations on a slip of paper, but you noticed something odd.

      “Shouldn’t there be 5 slips of paper with different sleeping arrangements instead of 4?” you ask.

      Tanner looks up from writing to say, “After what happened to you alone in the basement, just for this night, I’m not letting you be by yourself again. So, I’m making the decision that you’ll stay with me for the night. I know, it’s such a burden that you’re stuck with me,” adding a dramatic flair to the last sentence before continuing to write.  

      You chuckled at his dramatics. It was something you loved that he did seeing as you pull the same antics at times. You couldn’t really complain; you understand where he was coming from and you also did not want to be alone again in this location. Dakota didn’t try to argue the reasoning either.

      The four locations were the well, the room of faces, the attic, and the men’s restroom. Chelsea picked first and ironically got the men’s restroom. Following Chelsea was Dakota; he ended up getting the well which was where you had gotten scratched earlier in the night and he was not happy about it. At least you didn’t have to go back to that area again, but there was still one location in the basement left. Tanner went next and he picked the attic for the two of you. You gave a huge sigh of relief at this since you didn’t have to return to the basement at all now. This left the room of faces to Alex, who also was not looking forward to being in the basement.

      Setting everything up for sleeping arrangements from equipment to where the crew would actually sleep seemed to breeze by. Instead of cots, the two of you had sleeping bags which so happened to fully unzip to create a pad for the two of you to sleep on and for the other to act like a blanket. Knowing that Tanner was right by your side ready to comfort you really helped with still being at this location. As you laid together, he slipped his arms around you and pulled you into him.

      “I’m so proud of you for sticking through this. You’re so strong. Had this happened to me on my first investigation, I would have skedaddled out of here,” he whispers in your ear before kissing your cheek.

      “Well, I knew I had amazing back up ready to help whenever I needed it,” you whisper back while having the biggest smile on your face.

      “And I’ll be there whenever and wherever you need help,” he states so sincerely.

      No matter the situation, Tanner could find a way to make you smile. It may take longer than he would like, but he was always able to do it, and that was one of the many reasons why you loved him.

      The two of you managed to get some sleep, whether it was due to no activity, the comfort of being with one another, or both. Dakota, Chelsea, and Alex all came up to wake you guys up once 6 am hit and soon enough everyone was packing up equipment to put back into the RV. Once the investigative equipment was all put away, all 5 of you split up to give your final thoughts on the location.

      Finding a nice place near a tree, you sat down and started recording your piece.

      “What a crazy first investigation. I don’t think anyone expected the extent of what happened to occur, never mind to the person just entering the crew. Am I still a bit shaken up? Of course, but I’m not letting this stop me. I can only grow stronger and persevere through this. I want to prove that I can handle it. And now, off to another crazy location,” you say, growing more determined with each word.

      Once you finished recording, you stood up and returned to the RV. After a couple of minutes, everyone was back. With Tanner next to you with his arm around your shoulder, Dakota and Chelsea across from you, and Alex on the couch across the walkway from the table the four of you sat at, the RV took off to the next location.

[blushie14]

Language of Love [Skephalo]

You know, this was originally going to be a drawing, but I couldn't help myself! The scenario I thought of was too cute just to be a small comic! There are some sentences in French! All translations are at the bottom. Not gonna say anything else, just enjoy!

Zak was smiling like crazy as he hopped onto Minecraft. He spammed Darryl to get onto Teamspeak. He was impatient as he was fidgeting in his chair, giddy and nervous at the same time. I'm really going through with this huh?

*buddy joined your channel*

"MyEHHHH!" As soon as Darryl joined, the both of them start to greet each other back and forth in their usual manner for a little bit. "Yo!" "Skeppyyyy!" "Hi!" "Hey!" "Hiiii!" "What's up?" "Nothing much, just felt like talking to you. Can you also hop on to Minecraft?"

Darryl seemed happy to do so, since he wasn't doing much at the moment either. "Oh! Sure, what do you have in mind?" Zak thinks to himself. He only needed to talk to him so he didn't really plan anything specific to play. "Well I'm fine with whatever dude." "Hmm... Wanna go to wool wars then?" "Alright! Wool wars it is then, let's go!"

Zak already hopped on the server while Darryl was still logging in. "So, this isn't for a video, is it Skeppy?" Zak laughed, face turning a bit red. There was no way he would do this for a video, he'd die of embarrassment. "No! No, I just want to have some fun! Haha, why do you always think I'm recording?"

"Wha- Do y- What do you mean?! You always hide the fact that you're recording from me!" Zak giggles before continuing, "Dude! I'm not recording! I'm not recording, I swear!" Darryl rolled his eyes and smiled. He didn't fully believe him, but he decided to not push it any further. "Oh whatever you muffin head. Let's just start so that I can destroy you in a 1v1."

-

"aAAH! WAITWAIT NO!" Zak laughed and celebrated as Darryl screamed. He successfully knocked him off and won. "Three in a row! Bad, I'm crushing you!" Darryl growled in frustration. "I- No! You are cheating!" 

"WHAT?!" 

"You're a cheater cheater, pumpkin eater!" Zak bursts out in hysterics as the both of them bicker back and forth for a bit. "Oh my goodness, I hate you so much right now. ...Okay I don't really, but you're ticking me off!" 

Zak calmed down and laughed lightly. He sighed and mumbled, "Je t'aime." 

With help from Vincent, Zak may or may not have a list of words in French. A list of words that Zak is too scared to say to Darryl seriously upfront. So of course instead of letting Darryl know, Zak could say it out loud without having Darryl understand. Plus, he could impress him as well.

It was pretty sudden for Darryl at first. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "Wait what? What did you say?" Zak giggles before he replied with a warm smile. "Je t'aime! Tu me rends tellement heureux."

Darryl's eyes lit up in awe. "Oooh! Are you speaking in French? Did a6d teach you few things?" Zak smiles and nods, "Oui~" Darryl can already feel himself burning up. Hearing Zak just simply speaking like that made him feel weird and fuzzy. He wanted to hear more and was very curious to what the previous words mean. "O... O-Okay then. So what did that mean in English?" 

"Oui means yes." "No, I already know that. I meant the words before that." Feeling sheepish, Zak nervously laughed and shook his head. "That's for me to know and for you to never find out." 

"What?!" Darryl exclaimed, a little hurt, "Why not?" "B-Because," Zak hesitated, "Tu comptes tant pour moi!" Darryl muttered under his breath, "Okay, no. I'm not gonna let you distract me. I am coming to kill you."

A few minutes into the next round and Zak sees Darryl building up in the distance. He giggles and throws an ender pearl towards him. "Tu es mingonne. Je t'aime." Darryl felt his face heat up again as he rolled his eyes. "Oh my goodnes can you sto- AHH! Skeppy no! NOO!" Zak grinned smugly as he managed to kill his opponent once again."Wow Bad, I thought you were good at Wool Wars."

"I AM good at Wool Wars! This is your fault because your fancy French talk distracted me!" Zak snickered and replied, "Je t'adore." Darryl covered his face and laughed a little. "Oh my goodness! Either stop talking French or tell me what you're saying!" 

"Ahaha! I don't want to!" Darryl huffs, "Fine! Keep being a ragamuffin." Darryl suddenly gets an idea that he should've thought of sooner. "Hang on Skeppy. I'll be right back. I'm gonna make a phone call."

"Okay, hurry back! Je t'aime!" Darryl muted his mic and picks up his phone. He dials a number and murmurs while he waits for someone to pick up, "If you won't tell me, then maybe he will."

-

Vincent ended his stream a few minutes ago and was planning on going to sleep. Before he could get up from his chair and head to bed, he heard his phone ring. He looked and sees that Darryl was calling him. He figured that it wouldn't hurt to talk to him, and picked up. "Yo Bad, what's up?"

"A6dddddd! Skeppy and I are playing Wool Wars right now. He is speaking in French and don't know what's he saying! What did you teach him to say?" There were a couple phrases that Vincent shared with many curious people that asked, especially Darryl. But since Vincent is a bit exhausted, he couldn't think of anything that he might've shared with Zak. "I'm not really sure what Skeppy is doing," Vincent yawned, "Can you at least give me an example of what he said so that I could translate?" 

"Oh my goodness, he already said a few things already though." They both stay silent for a moment until Darryl gets an idea. "Oh! If I continue talking to Skeppy, can you just tell me what he's saying if he speaks in French?" 

"Hmm... Okay, I guess I can do that." 

"Perfect! Yes, thank you. I'm on Teamspeak with him right now. I'm about to unmute my mic." He unmuted as Vincent was still on the phone, secretly listening to every word. "Hey! I'm back!" 

"Bonjour!" Vincent quietly laughed in the background as Darryl rolled his eyes in slight annoyance. "Oh my gosh, are you gonna continue speaking French the entire time we play wool wars?" 

"Hah, nope! Because I feel like playing bed wars now. Wanna team?" Darryl replied with enthusiasm "Ooh, okay!" Zak smiled at the fact that Darryl's frustration could simply vanish in an instance. He mumbled, "Je t'aime pour toujors." Before Darryl's face could burn up again, loud laughter can be heard on Darryl's phone. "Bad? Who is that?" Zak questioned, while Vincent gasps for air. "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?" 

"Oh my good- LANGUAGE!" Zak's heart came to a stop for a split second, "Is that a6d?" Darryl couldn't answer before a6d continued, "I'm joining Teamspeak, hold on!" 

-

It took Darryl and Zak a moment to hop over to bed wars. Zak is slightly panicking while Darryl moved Vincent to their Teamspeak. As he joined, Vincent was internally freaking out, smiling widely. "Sooo Skeppy, is this the reason why you asked me how to say I lo-" Zak immediately cut him off with a scream. "Oh my goodness! How to say what?!" Vincent tried to speak again rolling his eyes, "I told Skeppy a few different ways to say I-" 

"NAANANA!! HANYA HAAAA!!" Skeppy interrupted again, thankful that no one can see how red his face is right now. "A6d, I will literally give you 50 dollars for you to shut your mouth!" Darryl couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Seriously?! You would pay a6d not to tell me what you're saying?!" Vincent smirked, "Send it to me on PayPal." Zak let out a sigh of relief while Darryl was not a happy camper. "Wait no! I wanna know whatever the heck 'Je tem' means!" 

"You wanna know what it means? It means Skeppy is a coward, THAT’S WHAT IT MEANS!" Zak felt his face heat up as he laughs, "SHUT UP DUDE!" Darryl, being oblivious as ever, asks "Wait, why are you calling yourself a coward Skeppy?" The other two started giggling. Vincent facepalms while Zak just tries to change the subject, "We have to protect our bed, Bad come on!" Darryl sighs and yelled, "Okay! Okay! I'm collecting emeralds!"

-

A few minutes go by, and the duo were doing a decent job protecting their bed. Everything was going fine until Zak tried to go back to their base while carrying 3 diamonds. Not paying attention as much, he slipped up and fell into the void. "Oh my goodness you fatty! Why did you die?! Now we can't get heal pool!" Zak chuckled, "Tu me rends gaga." Vincent laughed, finding the situation both amusing, a little embarrassing, but kind of cute. He is also slightly cringing at Zak's pronunciation. "Oh my goodness a6d, please tell me what he said. Did he call me stupid or something?" 

"Well... he didn’t call you stupid," he snickered. Zak laughed and continued. "Les mots no peuvent pas décrire mom amour pot toi~" Vincent swore a part of him died inside as he hides his face from second-hand embarrassment. The pronunciation was a little poor to him, but apparently pleasant for the other as his face was flushed red.

"Oh my gosh, how many things did you teach him?!" Vincent only laughed in response, still hiding his face in his hands. Darryl starts to do the same, "Finishing this is going to be impossible Skeppy!" He whined becoming flustered, "because you keep acting like a potato! Tell me what you're saying right now, or stop it!" 

"Bad, all he's doing is saying 'je t'aime' differently every time." 

"But what does je t'aime mean!?"

"Tu es mingonne! Je t'aime." Darryl couldn't take it anymore. His heart couldn't take it anymore. No longer caring about the bed wars game, Darryl decided to use a last resort to find out once and for all. Google translate. Thinking he heard it enough times to say it, he grabbed his phone and asked Google.

"What does je t'aime mean in French?" Miraculously, it managed to pick up his question correctly the first time.

Je t'aime means 'I love you' in French.

-

It's as if time froze when Darryl stared at his screen, wide-eyed. He felt his face heating up more and more, coming to the realization that Skeppy was saying 'I love you' in many different ways. He didn't even notice Zak suddenly disconnecting from Teamspeak and logging out of Minecraft. He only snapped back to reality when he heard Vincent cackling.

"I-... I-... Did Skeppy leave?!" Vincent nodded while he was still laughing and shouting in the background, "FINALLY!" Darryl puts his hands to his face in disbelief. His emotions have gone haywire and it felt like his heart was bouncing all over the place. "A6d, w-what.. just happened?"

Vincent cleared his throat, "To sum it up, Skeppy was.. basically flirting with you." Vincent laughed a little more before he continued, "I honestly didn't expect him to do it in French, but I guess it was effective in the end. I had a feeling that he really liked you." Darryl was still at a loss for words. He was still trying to calm down while still looking at the 'I love you' at his phone. ...He loves me. "Sooo, do you want me to tell you what I taught h-" 

"YES!" Darryl squeaked immediately, VERY eager to translate everything Zak said to him. "Okay, but you did NOT find out those translations from me. Alright?" Darryl instantly agreed. Grinning, Vincent continued.

"I think I can remember everything I taught him, but let's start off with what I heard. So this sentence he said was a bit off: 'Les mots no peuvent pas décrire mom amour pot toi.' It literally means 'words can't describe my love for you.'

Darryl burned up as covered his mouth with both hands to suppress a squeal. "aAWW!! That’s so adorable ohmygoodness." Vincent snickered, pretending that he didn't hear the other squee over their crush. Darryl cleared his throat, apologized, and asked Vincent to continue.

-

About half an hour went by after he left the Teamspeak. Zak couldn't pull himself together as he overthinks what Darryl is even doing or thinking about. What if he thinks I'm weird? What if we aren't friends anymore? What if-

*buddy joined your channel*

"Skeppy?" Zak panicked once he heard Darryl's voice, he blurted out "Do you hate me?!" Darryl blinked in surprise, "What?! Nonono, I don't!" Zak covered his face, still feeling a bit stressed from this. "Hey, muffin. Muffin calm down. I promise I don't hate you."

Zak slowly lowered his arms, "you don't?" Darryl had a toothy grin on his face and shook his head. "Of course not.." He nervously looks down on the floor, and attempts to say as best as he can, "Tu comptes tant pour moi." Zak was surprised for a moment. He wasn't exactly expecting Darryl to speak French afterwards. It was cute. Zak smiled as relief washed over him, his face was warm as he replied back.

"Tu me rends tellement hehreux."

[End]

DISCLAIMER: I do not know any French! I only did a little research! Here are the translations:

[bunnylouisegrimes]

Unusual Thanksgiving (NOS4A2 Longish-Drabble Fic)

(A/N: As of writing this, it’s the weekend. I’ve noticed at least every weekend for a few weeks now I post some short little Drabble to help let out my emotions. Here’s another one that’s a little bit longer. With Thanksgiving coming up and my ass having little time to think of something and cook it up (pun intended), I thought I’d take the approach of having whatever come to my mind and writing it out. It’s a unique one, as you don’t usually associate horror and angst alongside the family fluffiness of Thanksgiving, but... here we are! I remember a while back I wrote how Rose’s parents would react to her having a relationship with Charlie, and that was one of my inspirations, alongside how rough things are this year. I’d like to wish you all Happy Thanksgiving ahead of time. Stay safe and enjoy a good ass feast. It’s been tough, and it’s had some highlights, but now’s the time we can all put aside our differences and whatever else bullshit and be thankful about what we do have this year; whether it be supplies or each other, we’ll get through this. 🧡🍂🍁🦃)

(Apologize for no Read More, posting this from mobile, and I found the image randomly, so if you want credit, let me know).

November is a beautiful and calming time of the year, but under certain circumstances, it can be oddly scary. This is most likely due to how dead the world is. There’s usually no snow, and what leaves remain are brown, have decayed from the trees, and collapsed to the ground to crumble and rot. I noticed this when I was younger, and part of me thought November was spookier than Halloween in some cases.

Of course, to me, any time of the year could be scary. Horror doesn’t stop and end at one point; it is an infinite occurrence that follows humanity wherever we go.

From the time I was a little kid, I would find horror in the most obscure of places. Scary movies never bothered me, and in fact, I was always excited when I watched them. What should’ve terrified me brought me nothing but adrenaline and fascination. Instead, odd things scared me, things most people would poke fun at if they saw my reaction to them, things most would shrug off. Call me Freudian, but perhaps my fears, just as yours are, are based in our differing subconscious minds, so there is no true definition of “stupid” horror.

The one thing that I know for certain that’s frightened me since I was younger are bees, wasps, yellow jackets, and hornets. Why these little yellow and black bugs terrify me, I will never truly know the answer as to why. Is it because they’re so small, yet they can hurt you so badly? Is it because of their appearance? I don’t want bees to die out, as I know of their importance, and bumbles don’t bother me because they usually leave you alone (and they’re oddly cute), but any other bee or wasp can stay away from me. I’ve never even been stung by one, yet one buzz or sight of one near me makes my body react instantaneously. I get away as much as I can and even scream sometimes. Not wise to scream or move a lot when you’re in their presence, I know. But when your body reacts the way it does, what are you to do?

When I was a little bit older, I would say roughly 8 or 9 years old, a new type of fear spawned its way into my mind: the fear of shadow people.

I don’t know what it is about those things either that scare me so much. When I first discovered I had this fear, I believe I was watching an episode of Ghost Adventures, and I saw them capture a really clear shadow figure on camera. It chilled me to the bone, and from then on, just the thought of one creeped me out. One particular episode where the crew went to an old, abandoned and haunted Tuberculosis sanitarium got to me because shadow figures were prominent there, and they actually captured two on camera going down a long hallway.

Shadow people, from what I’ve seen online, are very mysterious. They could come from another dimension, they could be demonic; some are harmless, others are harmful, and it’s all dependent on what experience you have with them. Zak Bagans and his crew have come across quite a few demonic ones, and their guests have usually described them as tall, thin, 6-7 foot tall entities that are dark both in physicality and energy. They look like an individual spray painted with pitch black aerosol, and darker than a room if it were void of all light. Sometimes they have red or white eyes, and sometimes they can have differing appearances that are just as terrifying as the blank appearances they often have. They can stand there and look over you while you’re sleeping at night, they can stand in a corner and stare at you, maybe rocking a bit, they could dart down a hallway, hiding from you, they can crawl on the floor, they can crawl on the ceiling... whatever it is they do, it’s all bone chilling to me, and I hate it all with a burning passion. I don’t care even if they were harmless: If I were to ever see one in real life, I would have a heart attack.

That is why I am thankful I’ve only seen them either when I’m paranoid for whatever reason before I go to sleep (but they’re not really there, my mind’s just playing tricks on me), or if I have a nightmare and they’re present. This story will focus on the latter.

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

Halloween, Charlie’s birthday on November 1st, the Election... it all came and left sooner than expected, and we needed to plan what we were doing about Thanksgiving. I know, a vampire who’s all about Christmas celebrating other holidays. It seems unreal, but I assure you, he has respect for other holidays as well. Christmas just happens to be his favorite and one that brings him and the kids lots of comfort and joy. They say Christmas is a state of mind and is never truly over, so... I suppose Charlie is just a living embodiment of that saying.

With COVID still in full swing, and cases breaking records everyday, people were stocking up on supplies yet again alongside their Turkey Day feasts. We knew we had to hurry up and order stuff the week before Thanksgiving at most.

Living in Gunbarrel, Colorado, away from everyone except for each other and the kids when we spent quite a few days in Christmasland each week, it was relieving to know we weren’t around tons of people. The virus wouldn’t affect Charlie or the kids, but me being the only human, and one with asthma, it would, so it was calming to not have to worry as much as many other folks about exposure. Not to mention, the town was small, and everybody knew everybody. Whenever we did enter town, which took 10 minutes to get to, we would see everyone keeping their distance and respecting each other. It was nice to see our small and (just about) off-the-grid community helping each other during these times.

The only two local stores were an Acme that everyone went to, and the Gunbarrel General Store, owned by a kindly old man who looked like Santa Clause named Sam. Before everyone rushed to Acme, we decided on doing a curbside pickup order, and picking up anything else that was not available at Sam’s, as he was sure to provide lots of Thanksgiving food.

It was going to certainly be an interesting Thanksgiving without my usual family, and not being back home, but I was going to call them on that fateful Thursday and talk to them for a few hours. Charlie and I would have a small dinner together, and we would spend most of the day in Christmasland with our children, dining on delicious food and laughing together. The thought warmed my heart and made me feel better about this Thanksgiving. We would be okay, and everything would be fine, despite my horrible dreams...

For whatever reason, over these past few weeks, my dreams were plagued with shadow people haunting me. No explanation was given, and no explanation would need to be given for it to still occur and damn near break me. Maybe it was some sort of unresolved issue going through the back of my mind, maybe it was fueled by my stresses of being busy lately, but regardless of whatever the issue was, I was haunted by them. The day after Charlie’s birthday, we watched the original Nosferatu together, and I fell asleep near the end, experiencing the first of these dreams.

I was walking down a dark and cold hallway. I was 8 years old again. I don’t know how I knew this, but it was one of those instances where you know a random piece of information in a dream. I was holding two small plastic My Little Pony figurines I got from Happy Meals at that time, a small Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash. I hadn’t seen those toys in years, yet there they were in my hands. When I looked up, a shadow person was standing near the end of the pathway. It stood tall and authoritative, looming over me as if it wanted to grab me and drag me down the corridor straight into Hell, or wherever it came from.

I took off running, and it crawled on all fours after me. I screamed and kept running until I came across a goofy, tall, and lanky figure: Count Orlock, or the actual Nosferatu himself, was standing there. I hid behind him and begged him to protect me. He smiled his stupid smile and looked down at the shadowy behemoth. It seemed to back down a bit once he snarled at it. It backed up behind a corner, peaking at us once before vanishing.

My relief was short lived for only a few moments because Orlock wandered off into the darkness.

“Where are you going? Come back here!” I tried to call after him, but I was cut off by the shadow figure crawling on the ceiling and grabbing me. I gave a scream and found myself awake on the couch, springing to life and hearing the opening music to Downton Abbey greeting me. Charlie had tuned in after the movie. He looked at me with a confused and concerned look. I explained everything to him and he comforted me, laughing at the thought of the original Nosferatu visiting me.

The dreams afterward were more terrifying than the first. One dream featured a shadow person staring over me as I slept, another featured one standing in the corner of the room twisting and contorting its head violently. The third had a shadow figure hunched over near a window within an abandoned building. I was walking through the woods in another nightmare when a whole group of them were peaking at me through the trees. I ran down another hallway and one was behind me. I was in an unknown house and down the hall near the steps, one was charging towards me. Each time, I would wake up and feel unsettled. Charlie would comfort me, but it was always hard to fall back asleep, for I feared I’d be terrorized by the evil onyx creatures wanting nothing more than to consume me in their shadowy force and make my soul rot.

Despite all of my terror and the tiredness that accompanied my days, the focus for today would have to be Thanksgiving dinner.

“My mom mailed me the recipe to her sweet potatoes last week, and let me tell you, they are actually sweet and delicious,” I told Charlie. “So you can put down all the ingredients for that. We already got turkey, stuffing, and mashed potatoes written down... Oh! Green bean casserole, put that down... and we need apple and pumpkin pie. We already have whip cream and gravy in the fridge, and cider is in the cabinet. I think that’s everything.”

Charlie nodded and wrote these things down. Once he was done, he looked over the list and showed me.

“Yup, that’s everything! Alright, let’s look up to see what Acme has.”

As I pulled up the site on my phone, he spoke up.

“Rosie, are you bothered by not seeing your family? If so, we can visit them on Thanksgiving Day or I could go the extra mile and bring them here if you’d like.”

I sighed and rubbed my temple. “I’m alright, baby. I know they’ll be alright too. Things seem to be... okay between us, even if we did get into arguments since last we spoke in person.”

He looked down and felt guilty.

“Hey, don’t you feel guilty,” I reassured him. “It’s their fault, not yours. They see you in whatever light they want to, but I know who you really are, and I love you. I don’t care what they say or think about you, hence why I’m sticking by you and left with you to come here.”

He nodded and pulled me close to him, resting his chin on my head. “I admit, my darling, I am constantly bothered by this thought that I have destroyed the relationship you have with your family.”

“Like I said, they’re the ones that can’t accept that you and I truly love each other. I’ve been patient and offered them every chance to accept you. I’ve explained and talked to them, but they don’t want to listen to my reasoning. I don’t know what else to do.”

He kissed me on the cheek and said, “I’m glad that you at least still talk to each other.”

“Me too. At least we have that... but let’s not worry about that. We got food to focus on.”

We ordered everything that we could (the only things not available until the week of Thanksgiving were the two pies, but we knew Sam would have them). When the time came, we loaded into the Wraith and the trunk was packed with our dinner. We stopped by the General Store and Sam happily gave “Father Christmas” (as Charlie was known as) the pies. Since it was still light out, we decided to go for a drive to enjoy the autumn weather. As I mentioned before, November is usually dead and brown, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t peaceful and calm. We observed the soothing and cold weather as Fleetwood Mac and The Doors sang along on the old radio.

While gazing at the brown leaves and bare trees rocking their branches above us, I drifted off to sleep without even thinking about it. Stevie Nicks and Jim Morrison’s voices melted into oblivion as I found myself walking through a tranquil forest of dead trees. Cold, I wrapped my arms around myself until I felt a bit warmer, and I saw a grove of orange trees. It was as if I teleported back in time to October, and the trees were still alive with vibrant color.

I ran over to them, taken aback by their beauty. The leaves that were on the ground were still orange, and I tossed them up into the air with childish carelessness. At last! For once, I was having a good dream!

However, that enjoyment would be cut short when I looked into the distance in between the trees. The world and my joy winded down like a dying record player.

From somewhere beyond the misty horizon, a pair of white eyes were watching me.

Dread hit me and I ran away. The trees began to rot again, and the orange faded into brown. The sunlight morphed into fog, and the warmth dissipated from my body. I fell to the ground, tripping over my own clumsy feet.

Now I was somewhere entirely different. I was in a dark, unfamiliar bedroom. I couldn’t move except for my eyes, like I was suffering from sleep paralysis. I looked up to see the shadow figure that was hiding behind the trees. Its white eyes were dimmer than before, and its solid black body cast lighter shadows behind it. I tried to scream, but I could only choke out vocalizations as it covered my mouth.

It lifted its ice cold hand from my mouth and pointed to the left. My eyes glanced in that direction and a scream broke from my throat.

A pointy eared demon with beady eyes, a close together face, and a sickening smile was on top of my chest. Its body was too dark to make out any notable features, but it was lighter than the shadow next to me. The pressure on top of me crushed the life from my lungs. It continued to smile, as if nothing in the world bothered it at all.

Before my scream ran out of air, it wrapped its cold hands around my neck and tightened to the point it was strangling me. The rest of my scream died out, my eye sight was fading until it was only a pinhole...

Air rushed into my lungs as I jolted into a conscience state once again. My eyes darted rapidly and my body clung to the leather seat of the Wraith. We were no longer driving, and instead parked in the garage. A wave of nausea flooded my head and stomach, and I pressed my hand to my eyes. My mind finally registered Charlie’s soft voice.

“Rose! My sweet Rose! Whatever is the matter?”

“I... Jesus Christ... I... had another nightmare... this was... Good God, how else could I describe it?!”

While we gathered the groceries into the house, I detailed my horrifying dream to him. He was immensely disturbed and decided enough was enough.

“I know you believe in ghosts and demons and the sort,” said he, “and I know such things exist, since I’ve seen spirits and souls before. Because of this, you and I can pray before you go to sleep tonight. Unlike other vampires, holy things do not bother me, unless I were to drink or touch holy salt or holy water, in which case I would feel some discomfort thanks to the darker side of my being. I have an old angel doll that my daughters used to play with and hold whenever they felt uncomfortable or scared. That could help you too. I will hypnotize you and make you have sweet dreams. If any dark entity is going to mess with you, I will protect you. I don’t think you have an attachment, but these dreams are certainly unusual.”

I agreed to all of this. That night, we said a prayer together, I snuggled with the angel doll, and he hypnotized me to sleep. I had a dream I couldn’t remember, but it was certainly the most peaceful I had in a while, and it was even better then the beginning of that nightmare I had that evening.

A sense of purity filled my heart, and I knew nothing dark would ever hurt me or anyone I loved, as whatever God that may be out there as my witness.

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

Thanksgiving arrived at an unbelievably fast rate. No other bad dreams tormented me, and I couldn’t have felt more happy. Charlie and I worked together to prep dinner. When I finished making sure the turkey was good and putting it in the oven, Charlie presented me with a package.

“It’s from your home,” he observed.

I opened it up at the dining room table and I couldn’t believe my eyes.

It was the Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash figurines from my childhood. Underneath them, was a heartfelt letter from my family, detailing how they had recently found these toys and thought of me. They missed me, and they even apologized for all of their harsh words against me and Charlie. They gave it some thought, and they came to the conclusion that as long as I was happy and in love, and as long as Charlie truly loved me and treated me well, then all was perfectly fine. They wished us a very happy Thanksgiving from 2 hours ahead and many miles away.

Tears fell from my cheeks. I was crying of joy for more than the obvious reason being that my family and I were rekindling together.

I realized now why I had such horrible dreams. It was either my worries and fears of my family not being together haunting me, or maybe even some dark force, but Twily and Dashie here weren’t random parts of that first dream at all; they served as symbolism. They represented hope and familial innocence long lost, now brought back to light. Maybe they sent a message out in the universe to my family that Charlie was a good man. That could also be why Orlock was protecting me in that same dream, but him leaving symbolized my family keeping Charlie away from me, therefore causing bad things to happen to me. And perhaps when Charlie helped me and cleansed all darkness (regardless of it being real or not), those ponies knew ahead of time he was going to do that, and reassured my family he was always going to protect me. It sounded bizarre, but it was the best reasoning I could come up with to explain these odd coincidences.

I immediately called my family afterwards and told them everything. They were chilled themselves because my mother had a dream the night before about Charlie bringing forth bouts of light to protect me from a wave of darkness, and she thought it was her brain processing her acceptance of him, but now that my story was told, it made things even clearer.

We concluded talking by coming up with a date to have dinner together and to see each other again back home. We exchanged I love yous and Happy Thanksgivings, and I hung up feeling thankful. As Charlie and I ate a bit of dinner, as we went to Christmasland, and as we ate lots of food with our children, warmth and light abundant, I was grateful that I had the family I did, the boyfriend and children that I did, and the light that still shined in the universe, even on the most darkest of days. This year has been hard, but gratitude for all the good, hope, and love, even when we’re distant figuratively, literally, or both, makes this holiday season a brighter one.

[loving-jack-kelly]

Percy Jackson Died

Percy Jackson died.

He was old enough, he supposed, older than so many of his friends he’d watched die, but not really old. Old enough he was tired, and suddenly finding himself in the lobby he recognized from when he was twelve years old was disconcerting but not particularly surprising.

After all, he was a half-blood, and being a half-blood often got you killed in very nasty ways.

But still.

Percy Jackson died.

Charon remembered him.

“Drown in any bathtubs recently?” he asked dryly, but he waved Percy’s apologies for not having a coin to offer him. “You paid me for passage once and it clearly didn’t stick.”

So Percy Jackson died, and he crossed the River Styx on the ferry, and this time, when he arrived in the Underworld, Cerberus was completely visible.

Last time he came to the Underworld to see Hades, he’d entered the fast-moving line and stepped into the fields of Asphodel. This time, he waited in line to see the judges.

He’d saved the world more than once, they’d better give him something better than eternal stasis.

“Percy Jackson.” Daedalus greeted him warmly, arms full of blueprints and a full toolbelt wrapped around his waist. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Before Percy could respond, he was pushed to the front of the line and was standing in front of three men he had a feeling he should recognize but he didn’t. He didn’t have to speak at all, the three judges talked to each other while flipping through papers Percy couldn’t read, and without actually acknowledging him at all, the one in the middle hit a green button and Percy found himself on the inside of the gated community he’d only seen from the outside.

Percy Jackson died and was sent to Elysium. For a little while, it held his attention. Pretty much anything he wanted, he could have. Blue Coke, straight out of the bottle, better than the blue Coke at Camp Half-Blood. Pizza just like the pizza from his favorite place to go with his mom. Infinite activities, everything he’d ever wanted to do but hadn’t been able to when he was alive. Skydiving, cliff jumping, he got to pilot a plane.

He got to see old friends. Beckendorf and Selena Beauregard, who’d found each other and were happy again. Demigods who’d died in the second Titan war who wanted to hear from him how it had ended, to know what really happened. Heroes who died in the second giant war who wanted to know everything about Camp Jupiter and all of their friends who’d outlived them. Hunters who’d died in battles he hadn’t even known about while he was still alive.

But Percy Jackson was the son of Poseidon, lord of the sea. He didn’t like being contained in one place, and even if Elysium was a paradise for heroes, it wasn’t the same as being alive.

So Percy Jackson died, and Percy Jackson was sent to Elysium, and Percy Jackson chose to be reborn.

Zak Mason was born to a single mom.

He was an ordinary baby, almost. He was born with blue eyes, but they turned brown. He laughed and cried and pooped and spat up. He started preschool with a choppy haircut he gave to himself, and loved sitting on his mom’s lap to listen to Dr. Seuss books and watching anything fast-moving and colorful on TV.

When he was six, Zak’s basketball team won against all of the other first grade teams in their town, and a big picture of his gap-toothed smile holding the trophy he’d helped win with his first three-point shot held the place of honor on the fridge for almost a year.

Sometimes, Zak Mason had nightmares he didn’t understand. Of burning pain covering his entire body, of monsters and shifting Earth and bottomless pits, of faces he didn’t recognize twisted in pain or looking down at him as he fell, of flashing swords and screams and bursts of arrows whistling towards an enemy he couldn���t quite make out. He woke up and forgot the nightmares quickly, but they always left him almost wistful for something he couldn’t quite remember, even with how terrifying they were.

As Zak grew up, he noticed things nobody else seemed to. People who were just...different in ways nobody else seemed to understand. He saw a horse with wings, flying high above the clouds while he was on an airplane. A man he swore only had one eye that winked at him when he passed him on the bus. A woman with a forked tongue poking out of her mouth on a corner who’s smile made him shiver and walk faster.

And when he was eleven, almost twelve, a man with goat legs showed up and took him away from his mom. Just for the summer, but it was still the longest he’d been away from home.

“You’re a half-blood,” the man who called himself a satyr said. “You need to learn how to defend yourself and survive.”

His mom hugged him tearfully, but helped him pack his bags and sent him away, all the way to New York from their quiet little town in Wisconsin.

He expected it to be awkward. He didn’t know anything about what this satyr, whose name was Ash, was talking about. Gods and nymphs and a camp where he would learn to swordfight and find out who his dad was? None of it made any sense at all, and so Zak spent the trip to New York dreading whatever this camp was going to be.

He and Ash walked until he saw a tree, and Zak knew, just like that, that he was home. There were plenty of trees around, but this one was tall and proud and straight, and seeing it sent a jolt of some kind of unidentifiable pride down Zak’s spine.

And Zak and Ash passed the tree on top of its hill, and Zak felt like he was home. They looked over a valley full of cabins, a lake, strawberry fields, a big blue house with a wrap-around porch, a climbing wall that seemed to be on fire, and a thick forest.

Everything that didn’t make sense on the trip here clicked in Zak’s head. This was right, this was where he was supposed to be, that was the Big House, and the climbing wall was beatable if you knew the trick, and that was the armory even though it just looked like a shed.

“How do you know all that?” Ash asked, looking confused.

Zak paused.

“I don’t know,” he said.

But this was home.

He met Chiron, the centaur, and it felt like waking up from one of his nightmares. Especially when Chiron looked at him like he already knew everything about Zak and led him around the camp he already felt like he knew backward and forwards.

He was given a space to sleep in Cabin Eleven but told he’d likely be moving soon, as his dad would claim him.

Somehow, it was instinct to head for the lake during free time and climb into a canoe. He was terrible at it, but somehow it just felt right to be out on the lake with the naiads laughing at him.

What he was good at though, was still basketball. Basketball, and archery, and he picked up how to play guitar pretty quickly, too. He loved it at Camp Half-Blood, he told his mom in every letter. He missed her, sure, but they promised he’d be able to come home for the school year.

On his twelfth birthday, a flaming lyre burned above his head.

“Hail Zak Mason, son of Apollo,” Chiron announced in a booming voice, and Zak was welcomed into Cabin Seven with open arms.

So Percy Jackson died, and Percy Jackson made it to Elysium, and Percy Jackson chose to be reborn.

And Zak Mason was born, and Zak Mason was claimed.

Zak Mason still woke up with nightmares that faded from his mind before he blinked all the way awake. Of the same burning pain, but with a face that made him smiled floating through it. Of monsters he knew by name, and names he heard in stories of heroes in the second Titan war and the second giant war.

Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena and designer of Olympus. Grover Underwood, the satyr who finally found the great god Pan. Nico di Angelo, son of Hades, and Jason Grace, son of Jupiter, and Frank Zhang, son of Mars, and Hazel Levesque, daughter of Pluto, and Piper McLean, daughter of Aphrodite.

Names that whispered “home” to him the same way Thalia’s tree did and the lake did and the entire camp did, and he wasn’t sure why.

Chiron watched Zak Mason carefully, always with an expression of almost-but-not-quite recognition. When he insulted another camper or twisted his face in a particular scowl, Chiron shook his head and turned away.

There was one name that didn’t just whisper home, it screamed it.

Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon, savior of humankind, one of the most powerful demigods of the modern age.

Zak didn’t know him, how could he? He’d died protecting a group of young demigods almost two years before Zak was born.

But somehow, Zak did.

He looked in the window of Cabin Three and saw the always empty bunk bed with a minotaur’s horn hanging above it and a ballpoint pen on the pillow and he knew the stories behind them without having to ask.

He’d dreamed them, he knew it, even if he’d forgotten the dreams. Rain and lightning and a woman who disappeared in a flash of golden light, and a sword that had killed a thousand threats to people Percy Jackson loved.

Zak stared at the pen sitting on the pillow and knew it belonged in his pocket. It didn’t surprise him when he woke up with it on his own pillow the next morning, and it didn’t surprise Chiron when it continued to do so every time Zak tried to return it to the little shrine to the fallen hero called Percy Jackson.

When he practiced with Riptide in the arena, it was like every sword fighting tactic he hadn’t been able to master with any other sword came naturally.

People whispered when they saw him fighting with Riptide. Whispered of Percy Jackson, who had fought the god of war and won when he was twelve years old. Who had defeated monsters Hercules himself couldn’t. Who’d wandered Tartarus with only Annabeth Chase beside him and come out alive. Who’d stopped Kronos and Gaea and was the reason camp was so busy and full of life. Who’d given his life to save people he cared for and who’d been willing to go to the ends of the Earth or further for his friends.

And those stories felt like home in the same way camp did, in the same way all those names did and in the same way his nightmares did.

Because Percy Jackson died, and Percy Jackson made it to Elysium, and Percy Jackson was reborn as Zak Mason, son of Apollo, who would surely prove to be as much of a hero as the first body his spirit had inhabited.

Because a spirit like that of Percy Jackson couldn’t be contained to Elysium, and couldn’t be contained to one life of heroism. Not when there was the choice to be another hero whose name would feel like home in his next life when the River Lethe tried again to wipe away memories that couldn’t be erased completely.

And a spirit like that of Percy Jackson could never be anything less than a Hero of Olympus, even if it started over in a new body with a new name.

[of-sanguine-eyes]

Relentless live-read (chapter 24 through 26). We should, in theory, be getting close to the end, but this doesn’t feel climatic...

...And in theory, it should feel climatic. There are fairly large pieces moving into place, some Sudden Inspiration for battle plans, even a large-scale assault and some personal trauma...but it doesn’t feel like anything. It’s not exciting, because we’ve seen these descriptions of battle before. It’s not emotional, because for so many of these characters we dip in and out of their heads so fast that we’re having to rely on memories of previous books to have that connection to them.

And still, there’s no sense of danger. The closest we get is when Brother Sneeze actually does his You Ripped Off Star Wars and transcends. Which apparently people can best do if they’re close to death?

(So if it is Super Special Monk Afterlife, why do they even have a “oh you can un-ascend!” way out of it? And wouldn’t the more enlightened thing be to transcend, to “join energies with the universe” {shouldn’t that be multiverse in this world?} or however the book put it, not “and then I came back to my lacking physical form because...um...” This is not clearly defined)

The sense of danger doesn’t last long with Brother Sneeze, as apparently being dead/ascended means you can still be a viewpoint character. But throughout his whole “reaching for Drizzt” chapter, it just kept striking me as wrong. Not the mechanics, though I’m pretty sure Monk Nonsense doesn’t work like that and I know the actual Realms Afterlife doesn’t work like that. The fact that it’s Brother Sneeze, Afafrene of the improbable name. This should be done by someone with a profound connection to Drizzt, an appeal from a close friend - instead it’s the monk who’s been a minor character and has a minor connection to Drizzt, and the narrative even acknowledges he feels like a voyeur. Now, how would it work if it was someone with a profound connection, as he’s the only monk? That I’m not sure, but there could have been narrative technobabble and hand-waving, and we could have gotten an emotional plea instead of a page of Monk Is Happy To Transcend This Is The Greatest before even thinking about the character we’re supposed to desperately care comes back.

(That’s an interesting thought: anyone else catch the parallel between monk superiority and drow superiority? Just me?)

Meanwhile, back with other characters not having the correct emotional resonance: Yvonnel doesn’t act like someone with ancient memories, even for someone who is technically three years old. The elemental really doesn’t act like an ancient, unknowable primordial but rather like a drow female. Cattie-Bri doesn’t act like someone in the throws of grief with her Sobbing Fit; it’s a reasonable reaction to have, as does her friends showing up to comfort her, but the scene slides away from reasonable and into such overplayed dramatics that I started to suspect the real point of the scene was to stir emotions in Yvonnel instead. Which it also didn't manage to do reasonably.

Zak’s reaction to grief is much more reasonable for not being stated as such, and for just being there: he’s flinging himself into fights he might not win with some kind of deathwish. And has the extremely astute, very Ouch, reaction to being scolded for it, with the attempted point that everyone has already suffered enough don’t add your loss into it (which, it’s Jarlaxle, we can assume by “everyone” he meant “me”, but also, guilt trip): “no, they wouldn’t consider my loss great and terrible if I die.” Which...extremely accurate from what we’ve been shown so far. And Ouch.

(See? When the author gets out of his own way, emotional reactions are so much better. Unlike Possible Miscarriage For Drama, which is horrible mostly because Pregnancy was completely forgotten about until that moment, so, truly For Drama.)

Meanwhile: more on Matron Z being a fanatic, and thus very drow-like. But, um, question from someone who knows the world setting? Why hasn’t anyone checked with Lolth on this?  (Because the only thing subtle about this is the hint that this isn’t the Will Of Lolth, it’s the will of a pair of pissed off Handmaidens.)

Yes, yes, there’s the presence of the Handmaidens, and the drider army, which implies Lolth’s favor, but really, no one, of all these high priestesses, as actually said “um, Lolth? you want us to join with her, yes?”

Or is Lolth not picking up the Cleric Phone? she’s done that before, but, mention of that should be made if its the case. Are all drow just used to intermediaries and not going directly to Lolth? that runs counter to rituals and prayers we’ve seen before, but, possible. Not highly likely in a world where powerful clerics are used to actually getting very physical signs and Actual Spoken Words From Their Gods. Also, all those priestesses who are not Matron Z are still getting spells from Lolth, yes? So why would they expect that they couldn’t petition Lolth to discern her will in this matter? (Or: this whole plot falls apart with a little thought towards how clerics in the Realms actually work.)

Meanwhile, hasn’t this Conquer the Surface been tried before, very recently in the Silver Marches, and it didn’t work out, so...is it reasonable to expect Lolth to push for it again, yes, but also, right now? At what point do we, the readers, get tired of the Conquer The Surface And Fail plots?

Also Dab’nay runs off and hides once things get a little dicey and I really hope that means she’s off the table as Zak’s love interest, as he is running into the danger, not away from it. But she got Kimmy’s blessing to do it, so that might be a vain hope.

Probably...two more sections to go? If I continue with three chapters at a time? Sigh.

[ladyofpurple]

answer all of the questions!!

holy SHIT ok bless you omg

(sorry it's a full day late i took this shit SERIOUSLY. don't ask me how many hours this took, i was in A Mood™️ last night. removed the ones already answered xoxo)

angel; have you ever been in love?

yeah. didn't end too well, but i loved him.

petal; favorite novel and author?

this is like asking me to pick a favorite child. i guess favorite author would be stephen king, if only based entirely on the sheer quantity of his books i own alone. favorite book would probably be special topics in calamity physics by marisha pessl, and i'm only saying that because it's been my go-to response for years. i have lots of favorite books. ask me again in five minutes and i'll give you another one.

honey perfume; favorite perfume/scent?

freshly made coffee. lilacs. jasmine. cut grass. the ground after it rains. chocolate chip cookies in the oven. cigarette smoke on skin. my mom's shampoo. my grandma. my dog when he's just had a bath. thanksgiving dinner. acrylic paint on canvas. sawdust. that one cologne i can't name but can smell on a guy from a mile away. mulled cranberry and apple juice. vanilla. coconut. fresh laundry. peppermint.

sweet pea; what’s your zodiac?

virgo sun, pisces moon, scorpio rising ✨

softie; talk about your sexuality.

i'm biromantic asexual, primarily attracted to men more than women (but have had too many crushes on girls to consider myself het), generally sex repulsed when it comes to the thought of having it myself. i prefer to call myself queer in passing conversation, it's easier than explaining asexuality and the differences between sexual and romantic attraction. if someone asks more specifically, i'll usually just call myself bi for simplicity's sake, even though the ace part is a much more important (to me) part of my identity. monogamous as fuck.

i'm still struggling with internalized homophobia and a lot of "am i even queer enough" thoughts, which is super fun. took me a long time to even consider the fact that i might like girls at all. i'll probably never come out to my parents. not that they'd, like, disown me or whatever, but they're juuuuust homophobic/transphobic enough that my few attempts to educate them when they say something A Little Yikes have shown me that i should probably just stay in the closet unless i absolutely have to come out. like i'm getting married to a woman or something.

sugarplum; what’s the color of your eyes and hair?

i usually say my eyes are green because it's easier, and they mostly are, but i have rings of greyish blue around the irises and sometimes they're more hazel in the middle. they always have a green tint to them though, even if the intensity of the green varies.

my natural hair is brown, a little on the darker and slightly ashy side of completely generic. currently a former blonde, although i'm hoping to bleach my fucking YEAR of growout soon, and then go some crazy color as a last hurrah before i have to go dark again. being broke fucking sucks.

wings; coffee or tea?

tea!! black tea. chai, to be specific, with an irresponsible amount of milk and sugar. chai lattes are a fucking drug okay? coffee makes me sick (not a judgement, a literal fact. last time i tried some i threw up).

fairytale; are you a cat or dog person?

cat!! but my family has a chihuahua named sonny and you can pry that little monster from my cold dead hands ok i will fight you.

snowflake; favorite time period?

okay, i wrote and rewrote my answer to this about 10 times. then i tried to divide it up into categories (aesthetics, history, fashion, vibes, geographical location, etc), but that didn't help. so basically: i don't have one, because i have too many.

i like the american 20s-60s for the aesthetic, music/movies, and the fashion. i also like the european 1600s-1800s for the interesting history and also vibe. i love the french and russian revolutions — the fashion! the art! the wars and political upheaval! I FUCKING LOVE HISTORY. then, of course, we can't forget the rennaisance. or the witch trials (pick your continent). and ancient greece? the roman empire? hello?? did i mention empires? how bout we mosy on over to south america — can i interest you in the mayans? incans? aztecs? what about china and japan? korea? vietnam? and don't even get me fucking STARTED on the black plague.

ancient egypt? sign me the FUCK UP. vikings? yes please. the celts? oh boy. the MYTHOLOGY. the ARCHITECTURE. the LANGUAGES and POLITICS and LITERATURE and REVOLUTIONS and GOD HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO CHOOSE BETWEEN ANY OF THESE

i uh. might have gotten a little excited. basically i like history a lot. and mythology. and linguistics. and cultural practices. and the politics and prejudices behind wars and stuff. and learning in general. moving on.

vanilla; do you believe in ghosts?

let's put it this way: i don't not believe in ghosts??

listen. we don't know jack shit. we don't know what happens after we die, there are constant scientific revelations that turn our understanding of the universe completely upside-down, and there is literally no way to know which religions or myths or urban legends could have some grain of truth to them. like, dude, i've literally thought i was haunted before. psychology is bananas and the universe is infinite.

demons could be real. ghosts could be real. what if we just haven't invented the necessary technology to prove it yet? what if we never do, and they just fuck around alongside us, moving furniture and making shadow puppets on the walls just for kicks until the earth explodes? what if that one tumblr post was right and ghosts are actually real people from alternate universes or timelines that we see accidentally bc some cosmic wires got crossed? who fucking knows.

i love horror movies and scary stories and ghost hunter shows just as much as the next gal. but listen. psychics? mediums? people who accept every single creepypasta retold third-hand from their neighbor's kid's classmate's second cousin who "totally knows a guy"? doubt.jpeg

i don't understand the sheer amount of assumptions made willy-nilly about the nature of ghosts and demons and things that go bump in the night. the assumption that "oh this machine that totally doesn't look like a coathanger taped to a walkman will work because ghosts have this temperature and can always communicate like this and are electromagnetic" or whatever just baffles me. to a certain degree, following a general consensus is one thing — some basic things everyone can agree on? that's cool. ghosts can walk through walls and are probably dead people or whatever. but oh my god, taking every single story as absolute, undeniable proof?? taking these stories and expanding on them to infer intentions and scientific facts to something that by it's very nature is unknowable and assuming, like, every spirit is created equal?? and yeah, ghost hunting shows are fun and campy and kinda creepy but like. you really, genuinely don't think any of them have ever faked anything at all??? even if ghosts are real, it's fucking reality tv, my dude. it's the entertainment industry. at least maintain the slightest ounce of critical thought before taking zak bagans' word as the goddamn gospel.

and sidenote, maybe it's just my limited exposure as a white woman in the western world, but of all the shows and podcasts and movies and documentaries and whatnot i've been able to find and consume, there's the constant use of christian ideology applied to every situation that just really burns my bacon. what, there's never been an atheist ghost? if you see a shadow person and you don't know the lord's prayer by heart, are you automatically fucked? why are there never stories about, i don't know, viking ghosts? does your religion in life preclude you from becoming a ghost in the first place? is that why people never mention buddhist ghosts? i don't get it, and that's why even though i'm self-admittedly the most superstitious person i've ever met, true believers make me roll my eyes so hard they almost fall out. makes me come across as more skeptical than i theoretically am. I HAVE VERY STRONG FEELINGS ABOUT THIS OK

but like, you couldn't pay me to fuck with a ouija board. i'm not stupid.

delicate; diamonds or pearls?

both have their appeal and their place, but diamonds, i guess. i like the sparkle. but fake ones!! or synthetic. diamonds are overpriced and artificial scarcity is a scam and i don't need a dumb rock that some poor person in a mine somewhere was exploited and possibly died for. no blood diamonds in this house, thank you very much.

if i ever get engaged, i don't want a diamond ring. i'd want something cool, a little unusual, like a ruby or a sapphire or some other sparkly gem that isn't literally shoved in your face every waking moment as the expected standard symbol of True Love. they're cheaper, they're cool-looking, as a ring they still hold the cultural symbolism of an engagement/wedding ring. and honestly, as long as it's well-made and durable, whatever hypothetical gem it is doesn't have to be real either. i'm a woman of simple needs and demonstrably low standards. no point in going into debt for a fucking piece of jewelry, regardless of ~tradition~.

lavender dream; favorite album?

oh lord. welcome to the black parade, i guess. or anything by panic! at the disco. there are dozens of possible options — my interests are mercurial and my memory is garbage. but i'll always be an emo little shit. black parade and vices and virtues were also the first two albums i ever listened to where i loved every single song on them, and i happened to listen to them for the first time at around the same point in my life (i got into mcr super late. like, 2012 late. rip).

silky; what’s your biggest dream?

it's cheesy but i guess i just want stability and, by extension, happiness. emotional stability, mental stability, financial stability, stable living situation, stable routines, stable relationships... you get the idea. i have ambitions and passions, of course, but my ultimate goal is happiness at this point in my life, and i'm pretty sure stabilizing all those things would go a pretty long way in achieving that goal.

a little apartment with walls i can paint because white walls make me angry. bookshelves and posters and fandom merch on every wall. a computer i can actually play games on again, and somewhere i can paint and draw and record my podcasts. someone who loves me, maybe. a cat, if i'm stable enough. space for people to come visit me, and a place for them to sleep if they need. a tiny balcony, if i really want to shoot for the stars. a job i don't hate. the spoons to hang out with my friends, and the money to not worry about buying little presents for the people i care about sometimes. i don't need much.

strawberry kiss; do you have a crush right now?

nope.

glitter; favorite fictional character?

another loaded question. like books, if you ask me again in five minutes i'll probably give you a different answer. but in this particular moment, caleb and jester from critical role (please don't make me choose between them). i won't go full shipping mode rn, but jester is so funny and silly and sweet, so much more complex than she seems, and she tries so hard to make everyone happy even when she's so sad inside. the healer who treats healing as an inconvenience in battle (she's so fucking valid and also mood), the glue that keeps the party together. and caleb learning to trust again, facing his trauma and coming out of his shell. he loves his friends so much he plays wizard as a support class and i love him so much.

i love the mighty nein in general, of course, and all the guests/honorary members they've had. pumat!! pls don't be evil reani!! keg!! shakäste and grand duchess anastasia!! cali!! kiri!!!! the brotps! empire siblings! chaos crew! nott the best detective agency! i still love molly and all his assholery to bits (fight me), and mourn his lost potential. i adore yasha, even when she's gone; fjord has grown so much; beau and nott and caduceus — i love all their flaws and disagreements and their character arcs and the excitement of watching them grow and learn. but if i had to choose, caleb, jester and molly have always been my top 3 since day 1 and, well, molly isn't really an option anymore.

but like i said, ask me again in a minute. i have a fucking list.

swan; share a quote or passage that means something to you.

a collection of things off the top of my head:

Elinor agreed to it all, for she did not think he deserved the compliment of rational opposition. — Sense and Sensibility, Jane Austen

a tired feminist Mood™️

"What I say is, a town isn't a town without a bookstore. It may call itself a town, but unless it's got a bookstore, it knows it's not foolin' a soul." — American Gods, Neil Gaiman

i got my love of books from my grandma — some of my favorites i got from her. sometimes, as a treat, she used to take my sister and i to bookstores and we'd stay there for ages, getting to pick one out, roaming the shelves, the mental torture of having to choose. the peace of being surrounded by thousands of potential worlds, so much information, so many stories just waiting to be told; being surrounded by strangers who share that same wonder. the anxious drive home so we could read them, being unable to wait that long so i inevitably start reading in the car and make myself sick. telling her in excited detail all my favorite parts. if we were lucky, maybe we got to split a bear claw, or she'd drive past starbucks and get us something there too (tall vanilla soy steamer with one pump of vanilla syrup, whipped cream on top that always melted too quickly and squirted out the hole in the lid, so hot it burned my tongue but so good i didn't care). i have never felt more at home than i do when i'm surrounded by books.

"There are a lot of different types of freedom. We talk about freedom the same way we talk about art, like it was a statement of quality rather than a description. “Art” doesn’t mean good or bad. Art just means art. It can be terrible and still be art. Freedom can be good or bad, too. There can be terrible freedom. You freed me, and I didn’t ask you to." — Alice Isn't Dead, season 1, chapter 2: Alice

as cringey as it is to admit it, this line made me cry a lot after my breakup.

"So you aren't American?" asked Shadow.

"Nobody's American," said Wednesday. "Not originally. That's my point." — American Gods, Neil Gaiman

[side-eyes white america real hard]

there's more, of course. there's always more. don't even get me started on song lyrics, we'll be here all day.

lace; what’s your favorite plant/flower?

lilacs and roses.

mermaid; do you prefer the forest or the ocean? why?

both, i guess. but in different ways, and in different circumstances.

the sea is wild. it is endless and deep and unknowable. it is beautiful and dangerous. i am terrified of the ocean, and yet my favorite place in the world is an empty beach on the oregon coast. i have picked sand from between my toes for days with hair crusted in salt, danced around bonfires and watched the stars while marshmallows burn, gotten pulled under the waves as a child and nearly swept out to sea. picked starfish and crabs from small pools in the rocks, and swum (accidentally) with wild sea lions. in a long skirt, too early in the year to be swimming, i once took off my shoes and waded fully clothed into the water to my waist and just... danced. splashed and kicked and laughed with a boy i barely knew until our throats were sore and our toes were numb, walking home hours later with our soaked clothes clinging to our legs, shoes squelching, dripping algae as we went. the ocean is freeing and overwhelming all at once. i love it and am petrified by it in equal measure.

the forest is beautiful in a different way. it is silent and dense and serene. you are surrounded by life and yet, somehow, completely alone. there is magic in the forest, and history, and even when all else dies, that will remain. the trees grow from the corpses of their ancestors, and some have lived dozens of our lifetimes — with luck, a few dozen more. it is quiet there, peaceful, even the tiniest wood in the middle of a city muffling the outside world through the trees. you can feel the ancient ways deep in your soul as you follow winding paths strewn with fallen leaves, the mystery and wonder and superstitions of your forefathers. you wonder what it would be like, to run your fingers over the moss, to take off your shoes and socks and just run, leaping and dancing over rocks and roots, hair wild and air filling your lungs in deep, pure gulps as you shed the responsibilities and struggles of modern life, for just a moment remembering what freedom tastes like. it is primal, this connection to nature, one we have nearly forgotten over time. and as the sky grows dark and the silence of night presses against you, shadows looming, every footfall deafening, perhaps you begin to understand why some believed in monsters.

honeymoon; do you keep a journal?

i used to. honestly, that's a good idea, i should start doing that again. lord knows i have enough empty journal-type books.

starlight; do you believe in love at first sight and soulmates? why/why not?

i want to. i want to believe there's someone out there for me, the love of my life, someone to whom i'll be the love of their life, and that when i meet them i'll just... know.

but when i met my ex, i didn't really look twice at him for a while — no love at first sight. and when we were together, when i loved him and he swore he loved me back, i thought he hung the stars in the sky and knew i would marry him someday. couldn't even consider the idea that that wouldn't happen. and then when he broke up with me, he ghosted me so suddenly and thoroughly that he even preemptively cut contact with every single one of our mutual friends he thought might side with me in the breakup, before anybody even knew we'd had a fight. so, not soulmates either.

i really want to believe that someday the perfect romance will just fall into place and i can have the happily ever after i've always dreamed of. but the reality is i might never even have another s.o. for the rest of my life. maybe i'll get hit by a car tomorrow, or my hypothetical soulmate moves to argentina to become an alpaca farmer on a mountain somewhere and we never even meet. maybe i'm so traumatized by the betrayal and lies that i'll never have the courage to even try again.

and even so, happily ever after doesn't have to include a fairytale romance, regardless of whether i want it or not. i still like to cling to that hope though, deep down.

princess; what do you value most in people?

i'm going to assume you mean "real people" as in people i have positive relationships with, and not random strangers on the street.

loyalty. kindness. support. humor. similar values. patience. being able to grow together and teach each other things, so we can make each other better. honesty. trust. compassion. confidence. emotional vulnerability. communication. intelligence, or at least a willingness to learn. strength.

[msnihilist]

Having thoughts regarding love vs happiness in TSS.

Time and time again, it's shown that the villains are, generally speaking, happier than the heroes. The heroes of our story grapple with their morals and the consequences of their actions. They fret over hurting their loved ones or even hurting themselves.

Not so with the villains. Argost gleefully murders people who get in his way, and he owns a mansion and has his own TV show. He's adored by the public pretty much all over the world. Abbey turned her back on her relationship with Doyle and has a very lucrative business now! Even Zak Monday gleefully enjoys tormenting his counterpart as well as anyone else around him, with none of the stress that our Zak experiences during these encounters.

... But that "happiness" is hollow. Argost's only companion is borderline his slave. Abbey runs her business alone. Zak M's own parents only want him around to punish him for betraying them before they could betray him.

Love causes the protagonists to struggle. Zak especially struggles so much with himself. Doc and Drew struggle to be good and fair parents while dealing with their past traumas and future concerns. In the finale, it's a fleeting burst of kindness from his parents' old friend that saves Zak's life... And Drew's life is similarly saved by an old love she cultivated, as well.

I can't say that the heroes are happier than the villains, at the end of the day — I think there's too many wounds for our heroes to end this show "happily."

But what I can say is that some characters die and no one pays them a second thought, and other characters die and are given respectful funerals. Can you guess which ones?

[velasnyx]

Emaziska 007 AU Sequel: Vindicta Chapter 9

I ran to the car and found Fran passed out in the passenger seat. The wire for the leed wasn't plugged in. I plugged it in and pressed the defibrillator button when it was charged up. It sent shock to her chest. She gasped for air. I let out a sigh of relief. “Jesus Christ,” she said. “You alright?” I asked. “Are YOU alright? You look like hell”. “Speak for yourself,” I said. She flashed a smile. I sat against the car to catch my breath. “The game starts in fifteen minutes,”  I said, checking my watch. “Let's get back to the room and clean up,” Fran said. I nodded in agreement.

I took off my shirt and washed the blood off my face. Looking in the mirror, I noticed just how bad I took a beating. The cut on my stomach was still bleeding a bit and I had bruises all over my midsection and back. Fran walked out of the closet. “Christ, I didn't think it was this bad,” she said. “Neither did I,” I said as I began cleaning  the wound on my stomach. “Let me help”. “Don't worry. The game starts soon. Besides, mission first,” I said. Fran shook her head. “Screw the mission right now”. I sighed. I knew she wasn't going to take no for an answer so I had no choice but to give in. “Alright”. She cleaned the wounds and patched them up. “You saved my life… again. Thank you,” she said. I smiled and caressed her cheek. “Anyday, darling”. I leaned in to kiss her cheek. She moved away. I sighed. “Listen-”. “Why? So you could further emphasize that there is, in your words, “no us”?” Fran said. “It's complicated,” I said. “How? After everything we've been through; after everything we've said to each other and you just say that it's nothing”. I frowned. I felt guilty. I led her on. She thought that there could have been something. Honestly, so did I. “I didn't mean that,” I said. She slammed her fist on the bathroom counter. “Then why'd you say it?!” Fran exclaimed. I looked away. “Don't look away. I want you to look at me and tell me why,” she hissed. I looked her square in the eye. “It'll only hold us back. We are MI6 00 agents. We need to be quick, we need to be relentless, we need to feel nothing when we pull that trigger, and we need to finish the job. I can't have anything else on my mind. It'll only get me killed and it will be the same for you,” I said. “That's bullshit”. “It's the truth and you know it. We are always in danger. If one of us gets killed it'll be easier in the end. I don't have to mourn a wife”. “Jesus Christ, I can't believe this. What the fuck happened?! Was it something I did? Did I do something wrong? Something must've happened because just yesterday you were fucking flirting with me. We've kissed. I've held you in my arms. You flew thousands of miles to bring me back. You gave me a place to stay. You've helped me beat addiction. You helped me during my withdrawal. You've seen sides of me that no one, absolutely no one, has ever seen. Now tell me what the fuck happened!”. “I can't lose you again!” I blurted out. She just stared at me, devoid of emotion. “You can’t lose me again. Well, that’s a rather stupid way to not lose me because you’re definitely going to lose me now”. “Fran, please. You have to understand-”. She cut me off. “No, I understand completely. You are the one who has to understand. There’s no coming back from this,” Fran said. “I didn’t do this to hurt you”. “Well, you did, Ema. I opened myself up to you. I don’t do that with just anyone and there’s a good fucking reason why. I knew this would happen,” she said. What does she mean by she knew. She knew I’d hurt her? What fucking indication did I give that I’d hurt her. It seemed more likely that she’d hurt me in the end with her tendency to sleep with any woman she comes across. “Then why the fuck did you bother opening up? Huh? If you knew you’d only get hurt then why?” I asked. “Because I-” she stopped before she could finish. She looked away from me. “Forget it. You’re not worth it,” she said. She shot me a cold stare and walked out. I stood in the bathroom by myself. “Fuck you! I should’ve never brought you back!” I yelled. I didn't mean what I said but I was so angry. I just wanted to hurt her. Hopefully she had already left.

“Fuck you! I should’ve never brought you back!” Ema yelled. I was halfway through the door. Her words stung. I didn’t want to feel it but I did. I care about her. I thought we had something. I wanted us to be something. For once, I hoped for something that was more than sex. All of it was flushed down the toilet. I suppose I’ve learned my lesson once again. I can’t open up. I can't trust anyone with my feelings.

I went back downstairs. “007!. Zak rushed over to me. “You’re alright!” he said. Well, just barely. “Yes, Ema got to me just in time,” I said. “She was really worried. We thought you just had a bit too much to drink but she knew something was wrong”. “She has keen senses. So, has the game started?” I said. Zak shook his head. “You got back just in the nick of time. You got two minutes. Make ‘em count,” he said. I nodded.

Everyone was at the table but the dealer hadn’t started yet. “Are we going to play or what?” one of the players asked. “We are waiting for Mr. Swallow,” the dealer answered. “But he lost all his money,” I said. “He seemed to get a bit more funds for the game”. Just then, a man sat across from me but it wasn’t Swallow. This man had huge stitch scar that split right down the middle of his face. “Excuse me, sir. It is too late to enter the game,” the dealer said. “Oh, my apologies. I am taking over for Mr. Swallow. He became rather ill during the break,” the mysterious man said. “What? He can’t take over for him!”. The dealer looked uneasy. “Well, due to the high stakes, if a player cannot play due to certain circumstances, they can have someone else take over,” the dealer replied. Shit. That means we’re not in the clear yet. On top of that, I’m almost sure the reason Swallow isn’t here isn’t because he’s ill. He’s dead. Ms.Hawthorne along with him. “Welcome to the game, Mr…”. “Doe. Mr. Doe,” the man said.

There were three of us left, including myself and Mr. Doe. This guy was different. He's better than Swallow. Much better. I've been playing much more carefully than I've had to. “Mr. Galactica raises $700,” the dealer said. We all looked at each other. Mr. Doe placed all his chips forward. “Mr. Doe goes all in”. I looked at him. He had the same expressionless face. I can't get a fucking read on him. It's too much of a risk to call his bluff. “Mr. Galactica goes all in”. My turn. I have good cards but not good enough for this. “Fold,” I said. I looked over at the other's. They looked nervous. Except for Ema. She stared right at me with a stone cold glare. She looked away and took a sip from her glass. “Mr Galactica gets a full house. Kings, pair of aces”. Mr. Doe placed his cards down and flipped one. A three. Mr. Galactica smiled. Doe flipped the other. A king. Galactica's face dropped. Son of a bitch! I had a pair of aces. Mother fucker! I should've called his bluff! “Four of a kind. Mr. Doe wins the round. Thirty minute break before the final round between Mr. Doe and Ms. von Karma,” the dealer said.

I went after Doe. Someone stopped me. It was Ema. “What do you think you're doing?” she asked. “Don't worry about it”. Just let me go. I don't want to talk to you. “Don't worry about it? If you go after him and something happens-,” she said. “What do you care if something happens?” I sneered. She sighed. “You idiot,” I heard her say under her breath. “What did you say?”. She grabbed me by the collar and pulled me down. “I said you're a bloody idiot. You're going to fuck up this entire mission,” she hissed. I pushed her away. “Listen, I get it. You're angry with me. But you need to think. We can't risk the mission,” she said. I groaned in annoyance. She's right. If I approach him, there's a good chance one of us would start something. I started walking back with her. We stayed silent. After a while, I noticed the absence of her footsteps. I looked back. She was leaning against the wall. I walked over to her. “Hey, you alright?” I asked. Her breathing was labored and she had her hand over her ribs. “Yeah…”. She groaned in pain. “Yeah, I just need a minute,” she added. “You need help?”. She chuckled. “I'm surprised you still care”. “I don't. But we're on the same team,” I said. I was lying but let's hope she doesn't she through me. “Give me a second. Just make sure I don't die,” she joked. I leaned on the wall, next to her. “You should rest for the night,” I suggested. “And miss you win? Not a chance,” she answered. I chuckled. “You going to be my cheerleader?” I asked. “You wish”. We were silent again. “Did you mean what you said? That you should've never brought me back,” I asked. She frowned. “No. Of course not. I was just angry. I was hoping you had already left,” she said. “So was I”.

“This is the final round. Ms. von Karma, you have the big blind. $2,000,” the dealer said. I put in the chips. Doe put in the same amount. I stared at him. He looked back, unwavered. “All in,” I said. “Ms. von Karma, we just started the game. Are you sure you want to go all in so early?” the dealer said. “I'm sure”. I pushed my chips forward. I only had a high card so this was super reckless. “Well, I'll have to call you on that. All in,” Doe said. “All in. That's 12.3 billion dollars in the pot,” the dealer said. I showed my cards. A six of clubs and 8 of diamonds. He placed his down. A two of spades and five of hearts. I beat him. “Ms. von Karma, Lady Luck was generous to you tonight. You win,” the dealer said.

“You are one crazy son of a bitch,” Zak said, patting me on the back. “I took the chance and hoped for the best,” I said. “That was reckless,” Gavin said. He wasn't happy with what I did. “Oh, loosen up, Kristoph. It worked out so quite being such a party poopin' bitch,” Ema said. Gavin groaned in annoyance. “Good job, 007,” she told me with a smiled. I smiled back. “Thanks”.

I walked back into my room. Before I could even turn on the lights, I heard a muffled scream. I turned the lights in to find Ms. Hawthorne gagged and tied to a chair. I stepped forward and felt a knife at my neck. It was Doe. “He's dead, isn't he?”. He chuckled. “Why not her too?” I asked. “Well, she's connected to you now. You wanted to save her. Now she's leverage since you decided to play hero,” he answered. “Are you going to kill me now?” I asked. “You'll see”. “I suppose we will. Ema, now!”. Ema hit him and I knocked the knife out of his hand. He recovered quickly. We surrounded him. Two against one. We can take him. I threw a punch, which he caught. I was just the diversion. Ema swung her leg at his head. He ducked and sweeped his leg to trip her. He then flipped me. I guess this won't be as easy as I thought. I heard a crash. He had swung a bottle, hitting Ema in the face. He threw her into the glass table. I looked around and grabbed the knife from the floor. When I looked up, he had Ema in a chokehold. I stabbed him in the ribs, causing him to cry out in pain. Ema broke free. “Ema, get Hawthorne!” I said. She ran over to her. I grabbed our assailant from behind and suplexed him.

I ran over to Ms. Hawthorne and began untying her. Fran and Doe were fighting. Even after being stabbed, it barely affected his abilities. He grabbed her and threw her over us. Fran crashed into the mirror. He walked over to us. I got ready to defend myself. A vase was thrown at him but he caught it. Fran ran at him and he swung the vase, colliding it with Fran's face. She kicked his knee and he staggered. She tackled him to the ground. I continued to free Hawthorne. I removed the rope. “Thank you,” she said. “You alright?” I asked. She nodded. She pulled me close. She wanted to tell me something. I leaned down. “You couldn't satisfy her like I did,” she whispered. What the fuck? I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. I looked down. Her hand gripped the knife that was plunged into my stomach. I looked at her. She wore a wicked smile. I felt weak. I tried to grab her but she kicked me back. “Ema. Ema!”. I looked over at Fran. Doe had her pinned down, the knife at her throat. The door was kicked open. It was Zak and Kristoph. Zak kicked the man off of Fran and aimed his gun. The bitch held the knife at my throat. “Don't even think about it. I'll kill her,” she said. “Go ahead”. I struggled to even talk. “I'm not afraid to die,” I added. “Oh, how stoic. For England?” she said. I glared at her. “Place the guns on the ground. Do it now or she dies”. They dropped their guns. Doe took them. He aimed the guns at Kristoph and Zak. “Get into the corner”. My vision was fading. I was getting weaker by the second. Hawthorne was distracted. I noticed the knife wasn't at my neck and her grip on it was loose. I quickly took it from her and swiped. She fell back with her hands covering her face. She screamed in pain. “You fucking bitch!”. I chuckled. “Fuck you,” I said. She grabbed the knife and brought it down on me. She aiming for my chest. I hit her hand, causing her trajectory to change to my shoulder. The blade plunged into me. I groaned in pain. “Ms. Hawthorne, we have to go. Now!”. “Burn in hell,” she told me. She left my field of vision. Fran ran over to me. “Ema! Oh, shit. That bitch fucking played me,” she said. I chuckled. “She makes me look like an angel then,” I joked. Fran put pressure on my stomach. I yelped. “Zak, keep pressure on the wound,” she said. “What? Where are you going?” he replied. “I'm going after them”. “007, it's too dangerous,” Kristoph said. Zak applied pressure. “Stay with me, kid,” he said.

I ran outside. They sped off in a car. I sprinted over to mine and quickly went after them. Opening the special compartment and I grabbed my gun. I shot through the windshield and broke an opening in it. I shot at the car. It wasn't long until the started to return fire. We continued to race through the city until we reached a rural area just outside the city. We continued to exchange fire. A bullet hit my tire and I lost control of the car. It flipped multiple times until it skidded to a stop, upside down. I crawled out, barely conscious. I heard faint voices. “Look at you. How pathetic. I thought I trained you well enough. You shouldn't have thrown it all away”. That stupid old bastard. Why can't he leave me alone?

I woke up in a bright room. I looked around and figured I was in a hospital. Zak sat at the table, playing solitaire. “Zak”. He looked over at me. “Good morning, sleeping beauty,” he said. “What happened?” I asked. He walked over to me. “They found you at a car crash. You've been out for four days,” he answered. Four days. Shit. They're gone then. “What about… what about Ema?” I asked. I hope she's alright. Please, let her be alright. “She was in critical condition but she's alright now. She's real tough, that one,”  he answered. I let out a sigh of relief. “We lost those two. We don't have a clue where they are”. Dammit. “But we can rest easy, knowing they don't have the money,” he added. I nodded. There was a knock at the door. “Yes?”. Ema walked in. She was hooked up to a portable IV. “You woke up. ‘Bout time you lazy bum,” she said. “I'll leave you two alone,” Zak said. He left, closing the door behind him. We were silent. She sat in the chair next to my bed. She looked bad. She had cuts and bruises on her face. I probably looked just as bad. Maybe worse. “When I fully recover, I'll be going on a mission in Poland. I don't know how long I'll be there,” she said. I nodded. I didn't really have anything to say. Maybe this was for the best.

[funky-boat-zone]

the lighthouse chronicles part 5/??

claude in charge

the theme song invokes my fight-or-flight response at this point

less than a minute in and izzy hits some rocks and crashes. that sure is a way to start an episode

gonna be serious here: i can at least kind of appreciate that this show tried portraying izzy more respectfully/sympathetically and gave him more depth, but this show doing one (1) good thing doesn’t suddenly make it good imo

okay i’ll shut up and get off of my soapbox now

“did i make the same mistake izzy did?” no claude, you didn’t make the same mistake because you’re not in actual mortal danger. have some respect ffs

also this episode is adapted from “warrior” and warrior only appears in the last few minutes. if i were him, i’d be pretty insulted

i love they couldn’t edit out the coast guard so cappy’s just there with no explanation

the favorite

why are the zero fleet so excited to tow explosive barges that both the narration and zero say are dangerous!?

it’s kinda funny how zero defines “explosive” and immediately says “right, zip?”. 

when was zak ever acknowledged as fast? the man would probably die if went too fast

sure you got your engine fixed, zak. totally believe you (tbh i think he’s lying)

this is like the third time zip and zug have messed around with that same fire barge

i love how sad zb looks when he’s trying to convince zorran that he’s the right tug for the job

and of course zorran chooses all of them because teamwork, despite the fact that zero probably didn’t give him the all-clear to do this and he could be putting his whole fleet in danger.

also the ending doesn’t feel happy when you remember that it’s actually from the beginning of “munitions”. 

strike up the band

another log jam? seriously, i’m calling for an osha inspection on snugboat harbor

sometimes i forget how grating sl!sunshine’s voice can be. thankfully, this show never fails to remind me

shout-out to top hat for just making obnoxious light-themed puns instead of helping

the irony of zorran saving lillie w a fuel barge at the last minute when he was like. 40% of the problem in “bigg freeze”

blankety blank

“stow the bad jokes, top hat” hell yeah, get him, sl!captain star

“boats that gotta have their own way often end up at the bottom of the bay” zorran, who hurt you? holy shit

so zorran refused to help the star fleet with the princess alice because he disagreed with the way they were going about it, watched them struggle in the wind, and waited until they were in serious danger to help so he and his fleet could play the heroes. y’know what? maybe sl!zorran is a little fucked up and evil after all

oh, and sunshine gets hurt because zorran decided to be petty and hold off on helping. granted, he apologizes at the end of the episode, but jfc i can’t believe salty’s lighthouse put him on par with the original zorran completely by accident

and now he’s showing ten cents and sunshine some tricks for dealing with the wind, if he actually wanted to help why didn’t he do this at the beginning of the episode

[variety-of-fucks-to-give]

Virus Control - Part One

For reference, all the people included in this story are: Alayna, Nate, Ariana(Adrian),Bianca, Jimena, Zak, Darryl, Vincent, Clay, George, Nick, Spifey, Zelk, Mega, Vurb, Finn, Techno, Phil, Wilbur, Harvey, Tommy, Fundy, and Tubbo.

~~~

  A few years ago, the world was normal. Everyone was happy, trees grew, grass swayed, animals grazed, children laughed. But then what happened? The dragon broke through, bringing the disease with her, the dragon broke through and brought her world with her. The disease so optimistically named 'The End'. We lost the badlands first, the miners and their families succumbed to the virus. It's a wasteland, not that it was much before but now it's awful, it's like walking through a portal with no borders. One second you're in a beautifully lonely landscape of reds browns and golds and the next second the sky is gone, it's a suffocating purple static and the ground beneath you is cold and blanched. The plains next door to the badlands was stolen easily, and soon the vast birch forests fell with it. The last time she struck, she struck closer to home than she ever has before. Lone adventurers build houses for their families, dotted around the infinite landscapes. Our group of 25 thought we were too far away to worry. Apparently not.

 Flashback yeet

  Market, ugh, I grimace, avoiding the gazes of greedy villagers, their hungry stares searching for emeralds. Nate grips my hand, pulling me further through the crowd, "Where are we going?" I shout over the hubbub of chattering voices. "Zak said they'd meet us here, we're already late!" He shouts over his shoulder, "Just trust me," I sigh, adjusting the shimmering iron helmet adorning my head, holding it down with my free hand. Our glowing wings draw some eyes, jealous gazes from fellow adventurers, wondrous gazes from children. "Nate! There you are!" Another voice makes me direct my gaze upwards to a certain diamond clad flyboy. "Zak! You're gonna crash!" I shout, he's flying too close to people's heads, "Pull up you idiot!" He lights another firework, "FOLLOW ME!" He shouts as it rockets him forwards and upwards, "WOOHOO!" He screams, making Nate laugh. We continue running for a couple of minutes, following Zak's firework trail, and then we watch as he circles around a clearish patch of grass and makes a smoothish landing, beckoning us over.

  The others come into view as we clear the crowd, brushing off our shirts and checking our pockets to make sure we didn't lose anything. "What are we doing? An elytra show or something?" I giggle, pointing out that every one of us is wearing our elytra’s. "You say that every week Alayna," Clay grunts, adjusting his hoodie sleeves. "Right, everybody know their pair and their items?" Darryl says, looking around the group. I nod, pulling my list out of my pocket, "Got Nate and I's," Every week on a Sunday, we go to the market 10,000 blocks from our base and split into pairs, each pair sent off to find items they are knowledgeable about so we can always get the best deals. "Vincent and I are food as usual, any requests?" He asks. I smile, "Sugar berries!" "Bacon," George says sarcastically. Techno rolls his eyes, "Sure, eat my people," He mutters, folding his arms. "Any enchanting book requests?" Bianca asks, Adrian by her side. "More mending," Tommy says. "You always want more mending, shut up pissboy, anybody else?" I shrug, "Fire protection would be useful," Nate looks around, "Did we really have to come? Alayna and I never end up buying anything anyway, we've already got all the animals we need," He says.

  "You guys are free to go home, or you could join patrol," Vincent suggests, looking around the boundary at the number of volunteer watchers high in their watchtowers. "Ooh yes! Patrol!" I squeal. "You just wanna go on patrol cause of Eric," Nate teases, nudging my side. I blush, "I do NOT have a crush on Eric! Leave me alone! He won't even be there, he said he was gonna explore for a couple of weeks," Nate laughs, "Come on nerd, we'll see you guys back here when you're done," Nate spreads his wings and takes to the sky with a single firework, heading up to the floating watch island for elytra users. AKA us and a few select others because apparently we're the only people that have elytras in a 10,000 block radius that actually bother going to market. Nick takes my hand before I can follow, "Be careful, please," He mumbles, "I don't want to lose you," I smile warmly, hugging him quickly, "We'll be careful," I turn away and crouch, lighting a firework before diving forwards and letting it carry me upwards. I whoop as I let the air currents carry me upwards to the island where Nate is waiting. "You do know that like, four of the guys we live with have a crush on you, right?" He asks as I land.

  I jerk my head in his direction, "What?? Who does?" He laughs, "I'm not telling,that's for me to know and you to wonder," I smirk, "Two can play at that game!" He frowns, "What?" "I know a certain pair of men who enjoy your company very much!" I say smugly, picking up a quill and writing my name on the roster and todays date. Nate snatches the quill from my hand, "Vincent," He mutters, writing his name down under mine, "Nick," My eyes widen, "They do?" "Clay and George," "Spifey?" "Not Spifey," I blush, looking out over the towers surrounding the market square, "Zak and Darryl," I mumble, conceding the names of the two men I mentioned earlier. He gasps, "You're capping, no fucking way!" "I'm not joking," I reply, scanning the horizon, spotting two patrols of pillagers, too far away to worry about, and yet... I let out a shrill whistle and a small green parrot appears in front of me. Two pillager patrols, one southeast the other to the west, I write on a small peice of paper, tying it with a ribbon to the parrot's leg. "Go on now girl," I mumble, stroking her neck feathers before she takes off, taking my note to the northernmost watchtower. She will take it to each tower in a clockwise direction until everybody on patrol knows.

  It happens so fast. A purple shot like a needle pierces the bird, she bursts into a cloud of feathers, dead. I let out a shriek, pulling out my bow and aiming it at the sky, "DRAGON!" I scream, "THE MARKET IS UNPROTECTED!" Behind me, Nate pulls a lever attached to the ceiling, letting off a series of loud, massive, purple fireworks. A warning: take cover. Dragon raid. There's only ever been one of these here, long before I was born. The watchtowers burst to life as elytra-bearer's leap out of them, flying up towards us to aid with keeping the dragon at bay, archers positioning themselves strategically to avoid shooting a flyboy. My first shot lands at the base of the dragon's tail and it roars out, catching my eye: it's not the mother. "I'LL TRY LEAD IT AWAY, YOU DEAL WITH THE PATROL!" Pulling my mask up over my face, I shout towards Nate over the cries of the sick, the twisted and the damned. After the sickness was discovered: Mega made all of us masks to keep us as safe as possible. I pull out my fireworks, running and leaping off the edge of the tower and instantly lighting one, letting it carry me up and away. I crane my neck to look over my shoulder, feeling the piercing breath of the dragon as she flies after me, slow with her large reptilian body. "That's right girl, follow me," I mumble, leading her further away from the rest of her patrol.

  Another firework is set off below me and I look down, spotting the afore-mentioned mute man. "I THOUGHT YOU WERE WITH THE OTHERS?" I yell as he joins me. He shrugs, miming slitting his throat and pointing back at the dragon. "YOU'RE INSANE! YOU KNOW THEY'RE STRONGER NOW THAT THE MOTHER IS OUT HERE, WE NEED AT LEAST FIVE OF US!" He shrugs again, miming coughing, "YOU'D RATHER DIE TO HER THAN LOSE TO THE SICKNESS, I'M SURE WE ALL WOULD," I grit my teeth, angling my wings directly up and setting off another firework. I loop up and over, landing with a flourish on the dragon's back, gripping the spines running down the length of her body. Mega lands beside me, miming twisting his finger next to his head,"YES, WE'RE ALL CRAZY, NOW ARE YOU GONNA HELP ME OR NOT?" I  yell, driving my glowing sword downwards between the thick scales. He does the same, sickly purple blood spraying out, staining his hoodie. We move upwards as she twists and bucks underneath us, trying to throw us off as we pierce her hide every opportunity we get, eventually reaching her head. Mega looks towards me and I meet his gaze, "TOGETHER," I cry and he mimes counting down from 5, before we drive our swords into the dragon's eye sockets.

  We're too far away from the market to do any damage at this point so as she falls we steer her into the desert for a crash landing. At the last second we dive upwards, using fireworks to land softly a safe distance away. Mega grabs my shoulder, pointing at the ground beside the dragon as it begins to shimmer. The haze settles, revealing a pulsating purple dragon egg, "She was a mother..." I mumble, going over and using a torch to pick it up. Mega mimes cradling something and I shrug, "Is it even possible to hatch a dragon egg?" He shrugs and I add the egg to my backpack inventory as we begin to fly back. The chaos is still in motion, a second and third dragon having appeared in our absence, raining hellfire on the market village below. I frown, spotting the trio of George, Nick and Clay atop the largest dragon, Nate and Zak upon the second, trying to drive it away. "THE VILLAGERS ARE UNDERGROUND!" A voice cuts through the confusion and I meet Vincent's eyes as he flies beside us, "IT'S JUST PATROL AND US LEFT OUT HERE, WE SHOULD GET OUT WHILE WE STILL CAN!" Mega shakes his head, miming using a shield and then pointing to the village. "WE HAVE TO PROTECT T-" A shot whizzes over my head and smacks straight into Vincent and I scream as Mega pulls me away, using a firework to pull the both of us away as the poison takes over Vincent's body.

  I watch him struggling as we fly away, his eyes turning a glowing white, his skin paling. He's gone. The monotone way he drops his backpack as it it's worthless tells me everything and I dive, grabbing the bag before it hits the ground. It weighs me down slightly but Mega grips my arm, keeping me in the air. His eyes are sad and I frown, "LET'S GET OUT OF HERE!" I catch sight of Techno chasing a screaming Phil and a tear slips down my face. I cast my gaze around and spot more backpacks falling from the sky. None of them should be full to the brim so Mega and I collect them as we spot them, staying out of the way and not making eye contact with anybody. "JIMENA NO!" I hear Nate shout through the quieting chaos. I look up after casually wrestling Adrian's bag off of his writhing form. Nate crashes into Darryl mid flight as he chases Jimena, a ravenous and violent gleam extremely foreign in his white eyes. He struggles against Nate, desperate to reach his target. "GO AFTER HER! I shout to Mega, "I'LL HELP NATE!" Finn beats me to him, diving and grabbing Darryl, slingshotting him to the ground where he lays, mostly motionless. "I'M SORRY DARRYL!" Nate shouts, the crack in his voice breaking my heart.

  Mega catches up with Jimena as I reach Nate, "YOU OK?" He nods, "KINDA, IS JIMENA ALRIGHT?" I nod, pointing to Mega, "We have to go, now, there's nothing left for us here," He says as Finn returns with Wilbur's bag. "Is that all the bags?" I ask and he nods, "I followed your lead, collected the ones you missed," "GO NOW!" I hear Fundy shout as he dives past us, "THE DRAGONS!" Nate and I whip out heads to look back, our flight slow enough that we can keep up with each other. We exchange a glance, "Let's not stick around," Nate suggests as the dragons start scanning for survivors. I nod grimly, lighting three fireworks in quick succession to catch up with the other three. The six of us gain altitude, leveling out as we pass through the clouds, "Back to base! We hole up underground!" Finn shouts, "We should be alright if we hide out for a week,"

I’m in the process of writing part 2 it should come out today so don’t kill me

Love,

Chase

[flightoftheaj]

Zak ~ 16.04.2006 - 15.06.2020

I don’t use tumblr an awful lot anymore, but I feel like it’s the best platform I can use to come and make a post about this one. On Monday I lost my best friend in the world after a relatively short battle with cancer over these last few months. I could post thousands of photos, write dissertation upon dissertation about how much I love this dog, I won’t do that, but I’m sure this post will get long and ramble on, so I’ll keep the bulk of it under a read more.

 Zak was born in our family, we used to keep Staffordshire Bull Terriers as show dogs as well as family companions, and we had his mother, Piper. Zak was born in Piper’s second litter of puppies, I was in primary school when he was born and I remember one of the school receptionists coming into class to tell me that a family friend would be picking me up from school because my mum was at the vets with our dog who was having puppies. I remember being so excited to go home and meet the puppies, and when I got to meet them, there were two puppies, a boy and a girl. 

 At the time, all of our dogs were either solid brindle, or solid black, I was instantly in love with the boy, seeing as he had a little white spot on his chest, little white toes and a tiny white patch on his chin. Maybe it was a silly reason to pick him as my favourite, but they were puppies, and they couldn’t do a lot or show their personalities yet. As he grew up, he remained my favourite, and he definitely knew it! The rest of my family loved the girl, decided she would be the puppy we would keep, and that the boy would be going to a new home. 9 year old me was not satisfied with this, and after many a tantrum and tears, my parents relented, and Zak also got to stay with us forever!

 He was a typical menace as a puppy, always up to some sort of mischief. He’d dig up the flower beds, eat the flowers, try his best to eat anything he possibly could. He knew he was my baby boy though, whenever he was in trouble or got scared of something, he’d always come running to me. As he kept growing and got to his rebellious early years, he decided our older dog Max was his mortal enemy, and would constantly try to pick fights with him. We ended up with baby gates all over the house so we could make sure they were never in the same room! I’m still calling it that they were like that seeing as neither of the boys had ever been neutered, although that doesn’t always solve everything, so who knows if they ever really could have gotten along.

I could write so much about our memories together throughout his adult years, I know everyone says their dog is their best friend, but I was one of those kids that didn’t have a lot of friends, so he really was my best friend and my rock when I felt I couldn’t talk to anyone else. If I could best describe Zak, I’d maybe use the term Chaotic Dumb. He was big and strong and had absolutely no idea how big and strong he was. We used to play rough a lot, I probably still have scars from old playfight scratches, like I said, not aware of his power at all, and it was fun to play rough so I never minded. One of his favourite things to do until a few years ago was to hold people’s hands in his mouth and walk around with them, he’d walk you around by the hand, or lead you to his bed. I’m not sure why he grew out of it, but it was one of his cute habits.

Over the years, we lost our other Staffords. We lost Piper in 2012 to cancer in her lungs, Max in 2015 to old age, and in 2018, within five months we lost both his half sister and litter sister to cancer in the mouth and throat respectively. We have a theory that Piper’s lineage must be prone to cancer, as her and the three puppies of hers that we kept all ended up being lost due to cancer. From 2018 onwards, Zak was our only dog living in the house and he loved it. He definitely missed his mother and half sister, but he enjoyed being the centre of attention when he was the only one left. Throughout my time at uni from 2014 to 2017, he was the one I missed the most out of my entire family. Seeing Zak was probably the main reason I’d travel so far to and from university when we had holidays. I was so worried he’d fall ill or pass when I was at uni and couldn’t get back to him, but he kept on trucking and was waiting for me to come home.

Over the last few years since finishing up at uni and still living at home, I’ve been able to spend so much time with Zak, and I’m incredibly grateful for that. Early last year he gave us a scare when he started bleeding from his mouth, we panicked seeing as we’d lost both of his sisters to cancer around the mouth/throat the previous year. Luckily, after an x-ray of his skull and examination when he was unconscious, they found he just had warts in his mouth that kept catching on his teeth and bleeding, an easy fix! 

Around July last year I got my first ever tattoo, and it was for Zak! His paw print is on my wrist forever, so he’ll always be with me. Considering I’m a bit squeamish with wrists - entirely my brother’s fault, when we were very young and first got ferrets, he told me if one ever bit my wrist I would bleed out and die, I have been not good with wrists since - I’m glad I had it done! I did want to get a stylised portrait of him above the paw print, I was hoping to get it this year, preferably around April/May, but covid ruined those plans. It’s a shame, as I wanted him to be around when I had it done, but I’m still looking forward to getting it done either way! 

 During the lockdown he developed some new fun habits. He wasn’t used to everyone being in the house all the time, he wasn’t a fan of the constant noise and busyness of it. He’d started to stress out, but after a little while we figured out that he just wanted a quiet place to sleep. An old man needs to get his extra hours in! We moved one of his beds up to my parents’ bedroom, so when they woke up and went downstairs, he could come upstairs and sleep in their quiet room. The best part of this was that he always used to come into my room and wake me up, so I could walk with him to his bed and give him a little cuddle and kiss on the head before he, and I, went back to sleep. I’m not a morning person, I’ve been going to sleep around 4-5am and waking up at midday during this lockdown with not being at work, but it always made me happy that he’d come to wake me up so I could get him tucked into his bed.

 Zak had been struggling with arthritis since the start of 2020, the vets tried him on several medications to help and most of them gave him awful reactions, but we finally found one that worked for him, and he was back to loving life and constantly trying to run around the garden and jump on the sofas. He made it to his 14th birthday! He got lots of presents and love, lots of treats too! It was around then that we started noticing a lump growing on his shoulder. A month after his birthday, after exams and x-rays, he was diagnosed with an osteosarcoma on his shoulder. Bone cancer, it couldn’t be stopped, and the only thing that might slow it down would be amputation of the affected area. Considering its placement, it would be impossible to amputate, and even if it could be done, it would be unfair to take one of his two legs that wasn’t affected by the arthritis. He came home with strong painkillers, and was just in our care until he was no longer a happy dog.

Over the next month, the tumour continued to grow, but he remained a happy dog! His painkillers must have been helping, as despite struggling to move that leg as much, he still kept trying to run in the garden, jump up on to the sofas, he was acting as if he were still a three year old dog in his prime, we were constantly trying to get him to slow down and be careful. He did deteriorate quickly though when it came to it, he was struggling a lot more, and for a few days he wouldn’t even come upstairs to sleep because the stairs became too much for him. I think he must have known it was his time on Monday, for the first time in a few days he came upstairs to wake me up so I could walk him to his bed. He was so excited when I got up to go with him, but once he was there he just couldn’t settle. He’d started panting a lot, and he was clearly stressed or in pain, it must have just been too much for the painkillers to dull. We decided that it was his time, we couldn’t let him keep going and end up suffering.

My mum called and made the appointment for that evening, and I stayed with him all day. Even then he was still my rock, I sat next to his bed, upset and crying, and despite the fact that he’d been stressed and panting all morning, he laid down, put his head on my leg and just closed his eyes, as if he was comforting me. We had one last day to spend together, and although he spent a lot of it sleeping, it was a nice day. We got doughnuts for him as a treat, they were his favourite forbidden human food, he was so excited when he was allowed to eat more than one. As the evening came, it was time to go to the vets. Due to the pandemic, we weren’t allowed in the vets, everything had to be done in our car. I sat and held him through the entire thing, and even though I was already welling up he had to go and make us all laugh one last time, as the vet was trying to find a vein in his leg for the needle, he turned to stare directly at her and burped in her face, a very Zak move, even right at the end! He was such a good boy throughout the entire process, and I’m glad I was able to be there and hold him throughout.

I got to have one last big cuddle with him on the floor in the back of our car after he’d gone, until another vet came over to carry him away.

We’re getting his ashes back, and I have plans to save some money and get a necklace made that has his ashes in a stone so I can keep him with me forever. He might be gone, but there’s constant reminders of him everywhere, I don’t think I’ve had a meal since where there hasn’t been a dog hair on the plate somehow - trust him to show up wherever there’s food!

 I’m looking forward to getting his ashes back so he’ll be back with us where he belongs, I can’t wait to get my tattoo of him when things start to go back to normal after the pandemic, and I have so many happy memories with him that I’ll never forget.

Thank you Zak, for being my best friend for 14 years, for keeping your spirit up despite your struggle over these last months, for everything. I hope that wherever you might be, that you’re back with Piper and Paige, and that you’re being a good boy and not picking fights with Max and Fern! I love you so much, and I’ll miss you more than you’ll ever know. You might not be here physically any more, but I know you’ll be with me forever.