#truly the closest i ever got to being interested in baseball

[puckpocketed]

do the baseball girlies (gn) remember when Saebyeolbe threw the first pitch at a NY Mets game on July 25th 2018. in a way i’m still there .

[bellofball]

Several incorrect facts about Isopods (pill bugs) (just the land ones)

Isopods - the only truly apolitical animal

Fact 1: isopods are a type of very small bug (I am only talking about the little land isopods in this listing, water isopods are very bad and far too large). An average isopod is about the size of a medium-sized pill bug. To put that into perspective, an average-sized Pill bug is slightly smaller than a slightly above-average-sized slater.

Fact 2: Very little is known about the isopod aside from the fact that, on account of their small brains, isopods are incredibly stupid. And they are very stupid. Their small brains should not be brushed aside and leave the isopods extremely limited, particularly in fields like number theory and basic arithmetic. Isopods are not very good at theoretical physics.

Fact 3: No Isopod has ever had potential. Anyone who underestimates an Isopod is right to do so. They are the underdogs for a reason. Under no circumstances should an Isopod be recruited to a wild card baseball team under the assumption that it was being unfairly dismissed by other coaches who assumed it would be bad at baseball because of its very small brain. The other coaches are right, the Isopod is not an undiscovered talent or a flower waiting to bloom. Nor will an Isopod player be just the pick-me-up your grassroots team, who may not have the best equipment but has real heart, needs. Even if the Isopod does well in trials, its Isopod father will almost certainly miss the big game, demoralising the Isopod and ruining everything you worked so hard to build. Best to avoid Isopod players entirely. 

Fact 4: The Isopod goes by many names that vary from region to region… I will not list them here.

Fact 5: are there any interesting facts about the Isopod? No not really. Although after the recent reclassification of Platapus, Octopi and Ducks as Echidnas, the Isopod is now the only known mammal that lays eggs. Aside from that the Isopod is of really little relevance, however, the mega nerds over at Big Science like to argue about it anyway. 

Fact 6: There is an ongoing debate in the scientific community as to whether an Isopod is a Millipede with dwarfism or the lower half of a Centipede. This is very stupid as the Isopod is very clearly a once athletic crab who got into miniature war gaming and lost all of its muscle mass as a result.

Fact 7: Earlier I said there are no interesting facts about the Isopod, I lied, I am not sorry and I will do it again.

Fact 8: Many people, particularly the chronically annoying, like to make the claim that everything is political. Much like me, these people are liars. Isopods have nothing to do with politics, this is because their hands are too small to vote. Instead of admitting to this weakness, isopods pretend to be better than everyone else by never having any opinion on anything ever.

Fact 9: Alone in the animal kingdom, the Isopod is entirely unconcerned with the affairs of man and general politics. Even the Isopod’s closest living relative, the Heyna, got into crypto for a bit, which is sort of like politics for the incredibly stupid. The closest any Isopod has ever come to being political was when one of them once referred to the general public as “the great unwashed” but it only said that beacsause it was copying a character from a TV show it liked. 

Yes, the Isopod is entirely Apolitical, or is that just what THEY want you to think? 

Fact 10: Isopods have been known to be avid enjoyers of books and literary media, They crawl all over any book they can get their hands on and literally devour it. They of course claim to enjoy all books, but will avoid the ones that get “too political”. But what is “too political” for the Isopod palate? Isopods have been noted devouring media like Hunger Games or Harry Potter which get pretty political at certain points but the same Isopods have refused to chow down on works like Angie Thomas’ THUG. Why is that? 

Fact 11: And why did the Isopods specifically avoid eating the November 2021 issue of Son of Kal-E, when they had been noted as enjoying all previous issues. Surely if the Isopods were truly against all politics they would avoid Superman in general, not just the comics with his gay son. 

Fact 12: What's with this pattern? The answer is obvious. The Isopods only have a problem with politics, or see something as political when it deviates from the political norm, or at least what they see as the political norm. Minorities are no more inherently political than majorities but the isopod simply can’t see that. And instead of confronting their own biases, the isopod hides behind a shield of false centrism, using the idea that they are apolitical to deflect any legitimate criticism of their prejudices or beliefs. The Isopods are just as political as the rest of the world, they’re just jerks about it.

Fact 13: Everything really is political. I owe the radical left an apology.

Fact 14: every fact in this listing, including this one, has been a lie.

[ohheyitsokay]

foul

part 5 of the ‘hey batter batter’ series

pairing: Francisco Morales (Frankie, Catfish) x reader

wordcount: 2.5k

warnings: anyway I’m going to say this is where things start to get 18+ strong language, implications or mentions of party drugs, sex, alcohol, addiction, angst uhh I think that’s it. 

summary: it’s a Triple Frontier Baseball AU! Trust me, you don’t need to know anything about baseball. 

In this chapter, and always, truly good things require work, and while that’s scary, Frankie (and the others, in their own way) realize that it’s worth it.

>>

They didn’t get very far away from the little home before Frankie had to pull over, wanting to bang his forehead against the steering wheel and let the honk drown out his agony. And Santi, who was laughing at him.

He felt like he was reliving the memory again and again, his mind’s eye more vivid than anything else.

The skin of your wrist, even burned, was delicate, softer than reasonable against his lips. Your face was confused, and then he could’ve sworn your pupils dilated as you regarded him. It was a blissful moment, sitting on the kitchen floor, closer to you than he’d ever been, kissing your pain away like his abuela, like the two of you were comfortable together.

Then he realized what he’d done and all but ran away, cursing himself and terrified of your beautiful, questioning eyes.

Before they’d pulled over, Santi was telling him he wasted his shot. He knew.

“What the hell? Fish?” his tone was quieter. Gone was the disappointed, but good natured teasing from before, Santi’s dark eyes widening as he realized there was something undeniably more real than he had been expecting.

“You…” he stared at Frankie, who was glaring out the window, knuckles almost white on the steering wheel. “You’re serious, about her.”

It wasn’t really a question. His friend’s hands loosened, then reasserted themselves, like he was wishing he could strangle something, and then they dropped, defeated. It was answer enough.

“Then why…” he licked his lips, Frankie’s stress rolling over him as he considered his next question. Why did you run from her? Why hadn’t you got her number? “Why cant you…”

“I have a fucking baby, man.”

His broad shoulders deflated, for all their tension, his body filling with unshed tears for the life he was certain he could not have.

“She’s not yours.” A quiet, well-practiced reminder.

“She might as well be.”

Santiago’s hand slipped onto his friends shoulder, rubbing slow circles like his own abuela, willing him to understand his support.

“She’ll understand.”

He could have meant Frankie’s broke, broken, single sister, or his unborn niece, just two months due, or his intensely expectant mother, but he knew better.

There was no good reason Santi’s gut should know what a person was thinking about Francisco, what they would think, but he was seldom wrong about these things. And he was surer than he’d ever been, about you.

-

Hanging over the balcony of the second tier, you laughed as Will slid into home.

All around you the cheers erupted, deafening and joyous. The team might’ve picked him up to carry him around for a victory lap, you couldn’t be sure because you couldn’t see, being jostled left and right on your way back to James.

The two of you had been late to the game today, caught up in traffic, and Benny had texted you to hurry up. It made no sense that he knew you weren’t there, and even less sense that he was able to text you from the dugout, but he had. They were losing bad, when you finally filed through security and found your seats, but thankfully began to claw their way back. It had been one of the closest games you’d seen in this stadium, and you were mildly worried Jimbo would be hoarse by the end of the night.

Knowing them made watching the game far more interesting than it had ever been for you. It was only the shallow end of friendship but it was more than enough. As the closer and closer the scores got to each other, the more you’d let yourself be drawn to towards the field like a lovesick fan. You held your breath as Santi threw one, two, three strikes the top of the ninth, and almost squeezed Jimbo too hard when Francisco caught an unexpectedly vertical foul ball. He had humored you, walking close to the edge at first, but at some point James let go of your arm and told you to stay and tell him what happened.

Beaming, you found him talking to another elderly couple, decked out in Miller boy jerseys and paraphernalia. Your grandfather introduced you, but before you could get their names, a large security person tugged you away, murmuring in your ear.

Trying to decline, and explain they probably had the wrong person, you were utterly confused. They were hearing none of it, and were to escort you to the locker room, and you were bullied into going along, telling James as quickly as you could that you would meet him in a bit.

When you were gently shoved into a large waiting area next to a door that reeked of sweaty men, you were annoyed. Then Ben Miller was coming out, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet before crushing you in a hug. His hair was wet, dripping on you, and his shirt was sticking to his body, and his eager eyes made you forgive him, for the most part. Thankfully, he smelled like cheap soap.

“Benjamin Miller, do you understand that that was not okay?” you tried to be stern.

“He doesn’t,” Will said dryly, emerging from behind his brother with a smile. He gave you a hug too, which surprised you more than anything, and whispered something to the security guards before leading them out. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, but,” you felt flustered, wondering about Francisco as much as the ridiculousness of being near them, again. “Does someone mind explaining what’s going on? Why am I here?”

“Don’t explain,” Santi's voice, and his hand ruffling your hair. “It’ll jinx it.” You couldn’t tell if he was serious.

“Let’s just say, from us to you - thank you,” Ben was grinning winningly, almost making their suspicious behavior acceptable. “And we owe you one,” he added.

Handing finding your hips, you wondered if you had it in you to really glare at the tall, handsome athletes in front of you. You didn’t get the chance, however, as other players began pouring out around you and friends and family were being shown in. Apparently, meeting after the game was more common than you thought, and you felt defeated as you tried to back against a wall. The three of them got caught up momentarily as their friends triumphant voices and energetic movements filled the space.

You bumped into Francisco and nearly melted into the floor. 

His deep brown eyes, the ones you hadn’t seen since he kissed your wrist, met yours, and for a split second he looked like a deer in the headlights. Then they softened again, just like they had before, and he moved his body between yours and the crowd. Only when he glared and jerked his head did you notice one of the players you didn’t recognize had been looking you over, a little too interested.

His broad shoulders were raised, slightly, the only indication that he wasn’t in complete control of the situation.

“Thank you,” you murmured, under the noise, a mirror of that quiet moment in James’ kitchen. He didn’t move away this time, just stood over you as he checked to make sure the other player had gone on his way.

He was so tall. Of course you knew this but he was towering over you now, you could see the rise and fall of his chest, and the swell of the muscles in his arm as he pressed it against the wall by your head. Maybe you should’ve felt boxed in, but it was strangely comforting, the shape of the catcher blocking out the chaos.

The appearance of Ben, yet again, popped the tension and Francisco moved back, his arm falling to his side.

You breathed again as the rest of the group found you, and you could feel his eyes watch you as they joked about your disappearance.

Tom was looking at you too, a strange expression on his face. Of all of them, he seemed the most disheveled, like he’d only just got to the locker area.

“There’s an after party tonight,” he said, haltingly. You blinked.

The other boys were staring at him, and Santi’s head tilted, just a hair to the left, his eyes narrowing even less discernably as he said, “You should come.”

You laughed a little, and saw respect in Will’s eyes as you declined, thanking them for the invite. Did Frankie’s shoulder’s drop with disappointment or relief?

Ben was disappointed, for sure. It was hard to discern all their reactions when there was only one of you.

It was harder still, when James appeared, gently guarded by security, with the elderly couple in tow. Then there was reprieve from the attention on you as they accepted bear hugs from Will and Ben, and slightly more reasonable ones from the others. James received the same love, and winning the game because the second best thing of the day. Or maybe third, you thought, glancing again at the catcher who had returned to your side.

James ducked around them to tuck himself at your other side, and you didn’t need either of them to explain that these were the Miller grandparents.

The three of you melted into the background after you were reintroduced. When they invited you again to the party, the sweetness of the moment and Grandma Miller clouded your judgement, and you told them you would think about it.

-

You ended up going, an hour in, because Will had called you. He hadn’t explained, only half growling the instructions through the noise, before he changed his mind and hung up. Never mind, I’m sorry to bother you, he had said, and you thought that he actually meant it. It left a twisting feeling in your gut, and your instincts kicked in, and you pulled on whatever before driving over.

As per his instructions, you parked far away, slipping past the distracted security, into the luxurious rental. There half naked tipsy women and flashing lights, and things James would lecture them on littered around, and you felt slightly nauseous .

This wasn’t a setting you wanted to see any of them in, but you clenched your jaw, and looked for familiar faces.

First, you saw Tom near you, his hand sliding appreciatively over the ass of a girl who looked like she would frame her dress after he was done. Across the room, you saw a women watching them, standing a little to straight, hands clenched before she pushed her way out of the space. He must have seen it, too - he was frozen, and you snapped to make him look at you.

You didn’t say a word, just pointed with your thumb, eyes telling him what he needed to hear. He did apologize to the fans around him as he chased after her, and you rolled your eyes. It occurred to you that maybe… maybe that was why he mentioned the party. A strange way of asking someone, anyone who would hold him accountable to be nearby.

That seemed far fetched.

The air smelled like sweat and alcohol and smoke, and you tried not to think about your shoes, sticking ever-so-slightly to the floor, and tried not to wonder how often they did things like this. You were careful of explicit noises before you opened doors and your eyes moved quickly so you wouldn’t and draw attention to yourself.

Next, you found what you were sure your instincts had called you there for. He was in a mercifully quiet room, a little drunk, and a lot broken hearted.

Will was there too and when he saw you he stood, leaving his brother on the ground with his head between his knees.

“You didn’t have to come,” his voice was quiet as his eyes looked you over, trying to understand your intentions. You were sure he’d seen people time and time before try to get close for all the wrong reasons, and actually… thinking of it, you were sure that’s what had happened.

Will didn’t see any of that in you when you shrugged, eyes leveling with his despite the height difference, and he let you come further in.

“You guys have always been more than kind to me,” you said. It’s not that you owed them, it just made it easier to be kind in return.

Pushing aside a couple of cans, you settled next to Ben and held out the water bottle you’d brought. His face was stormy his eyes held hurt through the cloud of alcohol, and he took it.

“’m fine,” he said. Will waited for you to respond, to spout cliches and empty praise or lies and terrible advice. He had seen it all before, too many times.

That didn’t come, either, and when you didn’t say anything and rubbed your hand over his brothers shoulder, he was so grateful it hurt.

-

Frankie walked into the room, mouth open to check in, to find you running your fingers through Benny’s hair, his head in your lap. You were elbowing Will, laughing about something as his brother sleepily tried to participate.

His heart aching, Frankie left, closing the door hard behind him. He wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t.

Legs carrying him nowhere in particular, he wasn’t sure who he was frustrated at. Benny or Tom for charming you, dragging you into their lives, bright and shiny and innocent? Santi or Will for being able to talk with you like you had known them forever, to become your best friends like it was effortless?

You, with your open touches and knowing eyes and stupid big fucking heart?

He hated it all so much. Frankie hated it because it felt so good. Watching you act like a sister to his brothers, feeling your eyes on him as he did the one thing he knew how to do, hearing you say honest words for his ears alone - it all felt good, and it was awful. It made him forget who he’d been when he was a rookie, the mistakes he had made, the people they’d hurt while they’d been drunk on petty fame. It made him scared he would forget the lessons he had learned, if he let himself get lost in the good.

The person he was frustrated with was himself. He eyed his teammate doing a line of snow, the music pulsing in his ears, guilt and anxiety chasing him like wolves after prey. The caught him and he inched involuntarily forward, gnawing on the muscle memories of his tongue and heart and thighs.

Then all of a sudden, they were pulled back. Not gone – you were holding them at bay, as your hand touched his arm. Had you... chased him?

God did he want to be the man you though he was.

You didn’t seem interested in that, because you were quiet, telling him that it was good to see him, and to come to Benny, like he was needed. He wanted that – he turned away, back to his friends.

As your hand left his arm, the tips of your fingers trailed and he shuddered, realizing something.

The difference between the good of things that made him a monster, and the good of you was that it was handed to him, easy, full of promises that couldn’t be kept. Creating something good with you was going to be work.

Santi’s words rang in his mind, louder than the terrible music: she'll understand.

Determination flooded him, and he wondered if the wolves, never killed, could be harnessed. Frankie took your hand, relishing how after your initial shock,  you laced your fingers with his. 

<<

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179

hey batter batter taglist:

@icanbeyourjedi @studyofawearymind @hnt-escape @athalien @the-witty-pen-name @daffodin

[cloveroctobers]

ANNA-JULIA “AJ” (JONES) JARLETT

IG bio/info: @/annajj9x_ | 20.1k followers| Athlete | hey peeps can you stop asking me to throw it back cuz the answer will always be no! K thx take it easy 🏳️‍🌈🌻🏒🐶

21 years old

From bath, England

Hockey player as her profession for the past three years

Her position is defense

Their team name is “rowdy alphas”...yeah some team names just didn’t make sense or they’re cringe for no reason at all

Was raised by her mom,(her mom was a teen mom & had her at 17) maternal grandmother, and her paternal aunt (dad’s younger sister, who’s more like a big sister to her at 28)

They’ve made her into the person she is, literally

Her grandmother has a bed and breakfast that they all live in

the house is Victorian style—almost as if they walked right out of charmed! Instead of a big pink house, think yellow AND purple. It was hideous but homey and charming on the inside

growing up in a house with multiple temporary strangers wasn’t odd to aj at all, in fact it felt like the norm. There was always someone around to socialize with so that was quite nice

Her father was a pro baseball player & passed away due to a automobile accident

she has his smile & freckles

aj was also involved in the accident at the age of 6 & miraculously survived with intense injuries

Has scars as a reminder

used to have night terrors because of the accident...it took awhile—years!!! for them to subside

they’re all vague memories now (but the pain is something she’ll always remember) but she preferred it that way

she’s named “Anna” after her mother’s old best friend/roommate and was supposed to be aj’s god mother but she went missing during their uni years

the name“Julia” came from her paternal grandmother who she gets her wide doe eyes from

her athleticism definitely came from her dad

Her mother luckily liked to document things so there’s a bunch of home videos of her dad in them & pictures/scrapbooks that her mom has for safe keeping

She’s more of a klutz, tiny, and wears huge prescription glasses

extremely close to the three most important ladies in her life, so she’s always been able to be open with them about anything!

when she first expressed her interest in liking both genders around 17-18 her paternal aunt was all smirks, “i knew Britney Spears was so your type, yeah?”

more like shakira but Brit was just as pretty

her mother was a “cry baby” so ofc she burst out into tears squeezing aj’s limbs and peppering her face with kisses. She didn’t view her child as anything different... as she shouldn’t & was glad that her daughter trusted them with this significant moment in her life and wanted to be as supportive as she could

got books, watched Ted talks and everything but knew she could come to the source even tho aj was still figuring it out herself

her grandma dipped her head at the new info sitting at the round kitchen table, “been there. had a few broads in my life after and during my marriage with your no good grandad. Thank goodness the bastard died before you even got to meet ‘em.” “Mum!”

what felt like the biggest weight on her chest was lifted. She knew they’d understand but a part of her had a little bit of doubt, she’s heard so many horror stories where those like her didn’t have the support she has and that made her extremely sad to think about

i see her as a person that has/had many friends in secondary. She’s always open to chat and her being on a few sports teams helped her out in her case

very competitive in anything that she does & will guarantee that she’ll beat you. (“ You wanna race to the car from here?”wins. “Who ever cleans the most dishes the fastest gets the last slice of pie.”) majority of the time she’s right but if she loses?? oh don’t let her lose to you, it’s a pity party for the rest of the time ur in her space. Such a sore loser omg

stays active, always working out + has a gym membership and makes sure she goes at least five times a week

she’s very strong, loves leg day & working on her core

she’s about 5’10

loves wearing “gf jeans” since they’re super comfy but doesn’t mind skinny Jeans with rips in the knees every now and then

trainers and chucks are her go-to sneakers

has no issue shopping in the men’s section ‘cause who’s gonna stop her? Nobody that’s who

owner of over a 100 graphic tees + vertical stripped shirts are also her favs, SWEATPANTS/joggers?! How many does she have? A lot. Snapbacks? Plenty. Will she wear them backwards? Obviously.

Physical touch is her love language. She’s comes from a family that has no issue showing their affection by touch. There is NO such thing as personal space and that still stands with aj when it comes to relationships, she sees no other way

It’s what she shows and what she wants in return, if you’re not touching her in some sort of way, then automatically she thinks there’s something wrong or that she did something

Is the jealous type. It has shown in relationships and ruined a relationship or two

Has cheated on a significant other out of pure jealousy & is not proud to admit that

Does have a wandering eye but feels now that she truly understands herself when it comes to relationships, she’ll never act on it again

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, I get libra tendencies from her so that’s what I’m sticking with. She likes to keep the peace (unless she’s jealous) , idealistic — always looking on the bright side of things, outgoing, romantic, and professional— especially when it comes to her team; her true leadership comes out, yet she can be indecisive, hates confrontation, self pitying — if things don’t go perfectly how she imagined/planned it to, the world is ending and everyone is out to get her, and can be unreliable—never on time

September libra to be exact

if she’s really in love/taken a interest in you then she gets nervous: blushing, sweaty palms, cracking her knuckles, tongue tied—the whole 9

she’s already defined as a puppy by her coach but when she’s in love? She’s a lovesick puppy!

her fav holiday is Valentine’s Day

thought she was going to be a pro skateboarder growing up but it took one bad fall where she thought she was paralyzed for her to choose something else

she likes her weed on occasion

Obsessed with all types of cheese except cottage, “can I put cheese on this?”

more of a jumpsuit kinda girl or dressy top with jeans & hoops on a night out

has a solid group of mates outside of the hockey team, they’ve all met and hung out a couple of times, as they should since aj feels they’re going to be stuck with her for awhile so why not?

They’re a riot when they all go out, let’s just say that there’s never a dull moment

fav color is periwinkle

enjoys ASMR, mostly in the mornings when she’s waking up. You know how people love podcasts? (Sorry seb & Nicky, she still wants to be on the show soon!) ASMR is her thing

loves tangerines, you can count on it that she’ll have one on her, “where did you pull that from?” “I’ll never share my master plan.” “You’re such a tit.”

Definitely prefers “fresh squeezed” orange juice & will make her own, she has the tools & the strength 😏

Very rare for her to get sick ;) & if she does she’s a complete baby about it

Will fight that she’s sick before she admits it, trying all sorts of horrid remedies & vitamins

loves summer & all things that come with it, the number one thing is leaving bath for however long she can for a new place to enjoy

when she arrived to love island, she was thrilled for the weather. Yes she was looking for love but most importantly a nice get away & that it was (depending on your route that is lol)

closest with seb, vieve, elladine, and tai but don’t tell the others that! (She doesn’t care if you tell Yasmin, honestly)

just because her & seb “dated” and it didn’t work out doesn’t mean they can’t be friends right? It was almost automatic for them to be platonic after it was determined there would be no romance between them, almost like sibs! like those celebs like to say—except this time these two won’t turn around and actually find romance

vieve came with seb so...but no shade aj did like vieve. She gave great advice (while seb sometimes didn’t say the right things unintentionally or what aj needed to hear) when needed, especially from a medical view and is very sweet

elladine was the one who had all the tea & ideas to match, she’s quite organized and always down for DIY’s and could suggest almost anything. If you needed someone to help you get things tidy or match/find your Aesthetic, she’s the friend you call to help

tai was the one she could be a “bro” with, sure elladine has her competive side (or controlling, depends on how you view it) but tai was the one you can run to for much needed “bro hugs”, partying, going to the pubs, playing sports with or against, checking out/flirting with babes, etc...

it was not long after the villa that aj had a revelation with her sexuality & fully owned and labeled herself as a lesbian

She was happy being in relationship with someone else or with herself, life was short and she was young so there wasn’t time to dwell and stress over things so what the hell?! Live your truth the best way you know how ya know?

probably smells like sweet citrus, almond flower, and sea salt

on chest days, she’s a sweets snacker. Loves gummy bears (also with vodka) , swedish fish, sour patch kids, etc...basically shit that sticks to ur teeth

put all her chips into hockey, while it was advised by her Counselors & mum not to do so, aj went about it anyway. She thought about the pros and cons but knew there was nothing else for her. So there were more pros than cons. She was meant to play sports, its what felt right in her soul

Made her feel connected to her father, when she’s on the field she feels that he is with her

 scrunches up her nose when she’s frustrated or confused about something

Doesn’t always grasp concepts right away, she’s a soft dummy but most of us are and that’s okay! We’re all smart in our own ways

Feels like sunflowers are always around her especially if she sees them wherever she is. They must symbolize SOMETHING, therefore she loves them

spf queen. All about it, get with it or let the sunrays ruin ur skin that’s on u

loves a good filet mignon medium-well & is probably the only good thing she knows how to make alongside a salad, baked potatoes, & her oj

sucker for romantic-comedies...it’s basically her life duh!

If she has a dog, it’s a Dalmatian or Great Dane. She needs a companion that’ll keep up with her

loves kissing, it’s her favorite form of intimacy

Quarantine life included the push up challenge for her. Gaining a few pounds in muscle and fat, bothering seb via ft, viewing old letters she wrote to her dad, spending time with her fav ladies since they were now restricted from having guests in their home, and letting boredom consume her + she hated the whole lockdown that came with it, she hated being indoors for long periods of time but she knew that’s what partly needed to be done

Posts a lot of beach, park, outings with her friends & team, moments with her fav ladies, workout videos, and guests at the b&b with their permission and if only she befriends them along the way. She’s just as active on the socials as she is in rl but she’s not obsessed with it, she knows how to live in the now. She’s all about balance!

I also feel like she never keeps her phone charged and it’s always dying on her! She had a car charger but...that’s a jungle. She needs to invest in a portable charger stat

crushing on/finds attractive: Jared Padalecki, Keanu Reeves, Barrett Doss, Camilla Luddington, Sandra Bullock, Adrian Kempe, Harry Kirton, Anya Taylor-Joy, Haley Lu Richardson, Naomi Osaka, Ming & Aoki Lee Simmons

who does she listen to? Shakira lol!! Bea Miller, Dua Lipa, Daya, XYLØ, Elley Duhé, Stela Cole, Aloe Blacc, Maroon 5, Lewis capaldi, Charlie Puth, girl in red, Hayley kiyoko, king princess, dodie, & tessa violet

Anthem: Icona Pop — we got the world

[buckleysjareau]

So, for a prompt, how would you feel about the firefam meeting the BAU team?? Bc in my mind, Buck would get along shockingly well with Reid and Garcia while Eddie and Morgan just brood about their favorite ppl not paying attention to them.

omg yes!!! i love this prompt! the beginning is kind of dramatic but i wanted to give a reason for the bau to be there haha :) hope you like it!

The entirety of the one-eighteen had been on edge the entire week. Not only had their calls been emotionally and physically taxing, but Los Angeles seems to have found itself another serial bomber. According to Athena, the LAPD called in the FBI to help investigate after twists and turns and empty leads. 

The reassurance from Athena that they’ve got Behavioral Analysts working hours upon hours with the police department to find the bomber did nothing for Buck’s nerves. It didn’t really do much for the team’s nerves, either. The whole team had been affected by the ladder truck bombing and though they know Freddie is locked away, trauma doesn’t let you think rationally sometimes. When they’re not out on calls, they’re hypervigilant. When they’re out on calls, they’re hypervigilant. At home, they’re either sleeping with one eye open or not at all. 

Buck definitely wasn’t sleeping. He checks every possible location in his apartment where a bomb could be hidden before he leaves for work and as soon as he gets home. He sits awake on the couch when he should be sleeping, waits for a knock or a sound of someone leaving something outside of his door. He hasn’t opened his mail the entire week, just leaves it in his mailbox until his landlord has to check on him to see if he’s alive. He rushes to offer to clean the trucks before anyone else can just so he can check closely for a bomb. 

Which is exactly what he’s doing when two men walk into the station. He hears Bobby greet them but doesn’t pay attention to the rest until his name is called. That makes his heart beat speed up quicker than the speed of a moving bullet. 

When Buck slides himself out from under the truck - he revels in the fact that he can - his eyes widen when he notices the guns holstered on their sides and he’s terrified to find out what the FBI wanted him for.

“You must be Evan. I’m Agent Morgan with the FBI and this is Dr. Spencer Reid, we were wondering if we could ask you a couple of questions?” 

“Buck. Just Buck.” He clears his throat. “Why?”

“Do you remember anything about the night Freddie Costas bombed the truck you were on?”

“Why are you asking? Why do you guys need to know what happened? I’m not the one that was targeted. Can’t you just watch the news report, I know it’s everywhere.” His voice is shaky, he knows he sounds paranoid and panicked but that didn’t matter. Why is the FBI asking him?

“We need more information from those involved with the bombings last ye-” Buck scoffs, cutting Dr. Reid off. 

“Why ask me then? I wasn’t targeted, I wasn’t on that kid’s kill list, I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Is Freddie involved in this again somehow?”

“Buck, man, I know it’s gotta be tough to talk about it, this whole station was affected but you were there closest to him when you were trapped. Anything you can remember about that night could help.” Agent Morgan sighs. “Freddie Costas might have had a partner.”

Well fuck.

“Ask Bobby. He was the original target, he has a vendetta against Bobby.” Buck pushes passed the agents, practically shoving Dr. Reid in the process and he can hear the lecture Athena would give about disrespecting law enforcement. 

He winces internally as he thinks about the lecture he’s about to get from his Captain. Great, this is fucking great.

Three days later of restless sleep and constant worrying, Buck gets a call from Bobby on his day off. His heart is in his throat as he answers.

The speed at which his entire body relaxes the second he hears they got her makes Buck dizzy, almost. His knees buckle, falling to his couch in shocked and relieved laughter. He listens as Bobby tells him that Freddie’s partner was a girlfriend who knew her way around making explosives and by Freddie’s orders, she had planned to send one to Bobby and Athena’s again and one to Buck’s for making Freddie’s sentence longer. The fact that he was actually targeted makes him feel a little sick to his stomach but he’s just so full of relief that it’s over again, he laughs.

He feels guilty for the way he’d treated the agents he spoke to. He goes over it in his head as he heads to Bobby’s for dinner after he’d gotten his first full night of sleep in weeks. He shoved a federal agent, cut them off, rolled his eyes. He’d acted like a child and though Bobby didn’t tell him that, he felt like he was being scolded by a father rather than lectured by his captain.

When he arrives at the Grant-Nash’s, Athena greets him at the door and takes the bottle of red wine from his hand with a smile. “Well you look more well rested than I’ve ever seen you, Buckaroo. How’re you doing?”

“Well I’m not crushed under a ladder truck or blown to-” He’s cut off by his own shock at seeing people he definitely didn’t know standing in the Grant-Nash’s living room. His eyes landed on the younger agent he wished he’d had a chance to apologize to not five minutes before. “Uh, hi?”

“Buck, these guys are from the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. I’m sure you remember Agent Morgan and Dr. Reid?”

Buck’s face flushes. “Uh, yeah, I do. Nice to see you again, agents. Sorry about the way I acted, truly. Lack of sleep does that to you, I guess.” 

“There’s no need to be, there’s no hard feelings. We understand.” Dr. Reid smiles respectfully. 

“Yeah, no need. The important thing is that we caught her and you can put this behind you again.” Morgan holds out a fist and Buck returns it to fist bump. “You can drop the title, by the way. It’s Derek.”

“Endearing as it is to see you guys bro out, I would like to get this party started.” A woman with dark hair chimes in as she grabs the bottle of wine that Buck brought. “Oh, and he brought the good stuff. Hello, I’m Emily Prentiss and you have good taste.”

Buck snorts as he shakes her hand. “Nice to meet you. Honored to have your approval.”

She’s about to respond before she’s cut off by a squeal. “Bucky!”

His entire face lights up as he turns towards the voice. “Christopher!” 

“Mr Reid pulled a quarter out of my ear just like you can do! You’re both magic!” Buck lets out a startled laugh. “You also both know a lot of facts!”

“Oh, do we have another Boy Genius amongst us right now?” A blonde woman, who seems to embody sunshine, squeals from Buck’s right. “I’m Penelope Garcia, Garcia, PG, girl of your dreams, whatever you want.”

Buck already adores her attitude and vibe.

“Pretty Boy here’s got an IQ of 187, can read 20,000 words per minute, and has an eidetic memory. How about you, man?” Morgan pipes up.

Buck snorts. “I don’t know my IQ, I definitely can’t read that many words per minute, and I never claimed to be a genius. I just like to read, man. Random stuff in history, astrology, stuff Christopher’s into, philosophy-”

Reid’s eyebrows shoot up in interest. “Who’s your favorite philosopher?”

Thus, a conversation is started. Penelope joins in at the mention of Immanuel Kant and Buck is happy Athena invited them over before they left. He’s lost in a conversation and learning new things and more importantly, he’s made new connections for the day. Eddie joins when the conversation turns to Doctor Who, something that Buck never knew Eddie was into. When he leaves to talk to Aaron Hotchner about baseball, Buck watches as he walks away before getting sucked back into another conversation about black holes.

Across the room from him, Eddie sits with Emily, Derek and a woman he now knows as JJ. He’s laughing as Emily teases him about something. What it could be about, Buck doesn’t know, but seeing Eddie laugh makes his heart soar.

“Oh?” Penelope smirks. “Eddie, huh? What’s going on there?”

Buck’s eyes widen at the unexpected question. “What? Nothing.”

Reid, who didn’t even seem to be one for gossip, scoffs. “Do you know what the BAU does? We study human behavior. The entire time Eddie was over here, you leaned into him whenever you talked. You would brush your hand against his and whenever you’d laugh about something, you’d tap his chest. You only looked at him the entire conversation, you were hanging onto every word. The amount of eye contact between the two of you was evident. When JJ came behind us and knocked into Eddie, you put your arm out to protect him. Classic mannerisms of someone in love.”

“But Eddie does that stuff too. It’s not just me.” Buck really thinks he’s making a point.

Penelope laughs. “Oh, honey, you’re exactly right. This isn’t an unrequited love trope here. Our friends are over there probably teasing him for the same thing right now. You don’t need to be a profiler to see he’s in love with you, too.”

Buck looks over to Eddie along with Penelope and Reid. Eddie’s face is red and he’s looking down as JJ talks exasperatedly. Then Eddie is looking up and catches the three of them staring. Buck’s face is on fire as he waves awkwardly. Derek, Emily, and JJ look up as well and smirk at each other.

“I think I hate profilers.” Buck deadpans. 

Across the room, Eddie says the same thing.

[an-unknown-writers-world]

First Pitch

Summary: Bucky’s been keeping the reader at a distance, but he needs an escort to the Yankees game which leads to some unexpected confessions. 

A/N: First attempt back at writing; this is absolute trash. Sorry, not sorry. 

Word Count: 3,335

You sat at the kitchen island reading a book while you at your breakfast. It had been a peaceful morning, by the grace of god Sam and Bucky both slept in leaving you to enjoy the peace. You’d think after living together for over a year they would get along better, but the jabs never seem to end; although it is getting hard to tell if they’re because they actually care for each other and don’t want to admit it or if they truly do still hate each other. You had just taken your last bite when Bucky emerged into the kitchen. 

“Morning,” He said in a still sleepy rough voice.

“Morning, Buck.” 

You went back to your book thinking that was the end of the conversation. It’d been a year since Pepper moved you into the compound. You were a Red Room survivor and long-time friend of Natasha, so when you showed up at the remnants of the compound looking for her Pepper offered her place in what remained of the Avengers Initiative to you. It was no secret that you’d never be able to fill those shoes, they were impossible to fill, but you looked forward to being a part of something bigger. Sam had welcomed you with open arms, Bucky, on the other hand, kept you at arm’s length. 

“Any plans for the day?” Bucky asked coming to stand across the counter from you. 

His coffee cup steamed on the counter in front of him, you looked it at rather than him, confused by his sudden concern in your plans. If there was no mission in the works or casual polite conversation involved, Bucky rarely spoke to you. He was never rude, but he certainly didn’t extend an olive branch or show any interest in being friends of any kind. In fact, every time you would take a step towards friendship, he would push you away. 

“Nothing really. I might go for a run later, but I haven’t decided.” You paused for a moment. “Why, did something happen? Fury calling us in?”

He shook his head, “No,” He hesitated, “just curious.”

You stood from the stool to clear your dishes confused by the exchange. Tension between the two of you wasn’t uncommon, but this felt far different. 

“(Y/N), have you ever been to a baseball game?”

Well, this just got weirder. You thought to yourself.

You closed the dishwasher door, “No, Buck. I’ve never really cared for any sport but football.”

He nodded smiling to himself, “I remember Nat talking about going to a game with you. She had a lot of fun that day. She did warn that anyone who goes to something like that would you should be prepared for the drunk you.” He chuckled softly, “She said it’s pretty entertaining.”

Your heart warmed at the topic of your old friend. “I miss her.” You confessed. 

He placed his flesh hand on your shoulder softly, “Me too.” 

Internally your mind was throwing all kinds of flags – red danger, orange caution signs. But you smiled at the gesture.

He turned his attention back to his coffee cup; you took the opportunity to put some distance between you; taking your own cup to the coffee maker to get a fresh cup. 

“Steve and I used to go to baseball games when we were kids.” He reminisced. “The Dodgers were in Brooklyn back then.” 

You laughed. “Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. I just don’t remember a time that they weren’t in Los Angeles.” 

He smiled. “Sometimes I forget how young you are.” 

“Age isn’t relative.” You replied automatically. 

“This is harder than it was back in the day.” He mumbled so low you weren’t sure you were supposed to hear. 

You came to stand across from him, coffee cups and island in between. “Bucky?” You said trying to get his attention.

He looked up at you, you could see the torture in his eyes. 

“Hey, whatever it is. Just spit it out.” 

Bucky took a deep breath, “Would you be willing to come to the Yankees game with me this afternoon? I have to throw out the first pitch for Stark Industries.”

“Oh,” You were shocked at the question.

You searched his expression, he seemed sincere in his request and you could see the anxiety eating away at him as you contemplated his request. Part of you wanted to decline the request because it seemed so far out of the left-field, but the bigger part of you wanted to say yes. You wanted to be friends with your housemates, and this was a good first step.  Besides you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t admit there was a part of you that had wanted more with Bucky.

“It’s okay if you can’t or don’t want to.”

“No, no.” You suddenly felt bad it took so long for you to answer. “I’d be happy to go with you. Two conditions, though.” You smiled.

“Name ‘em.” He replied with a confused smile.

“You have to answer all my ridiculous questions and beer is a requirement.”

He laughed; it was a musical sound that you didn’t often hear. “I think I can handle both.”

“When is the game?” You asked. 

“We need to leave in two hours.” He replied.

You scrunched your face in frustration as you rounded the counter to put your cup in the dishwasher. “You’re giving me a two-hour notice to figure out the game of baseball and figure out appropriate attire for a game.” 

Bucky smiled, “You don’t have to learn anything about the game, I’ll teach you.” He drank from his coffee cup, “And its September in New York, whatever you might wear to a picnic or to the park or something, that would be fine for a baseball game.”

You nodded, “I guess I’m going to go get dressed.”

As you turned to walk away Bucky’s hand casually caught your own, you turned back to look at him.

“Thank you.” He said softly.

You squeezed his hand lightly. “You certainly don’t have to thank me.” You smiled back, “I should be the one thanking you for taking me to someplace new.” 

** Two Hours Later **

 The clock read 1:56 PM and you were startled by a soft knock on your bedroom door.

“(Y/N), the cars here,” Bucky said from the opposite side of the door. 

“Coming.” You said getting up from your vanity.

You heard the footsteps down the hall signaling that Bucky wasn’t waiting outside your door any longer.  Taking a deep breath, you tried to remind yourself this was just another day. You looked in the mirror one last time – sporting a red tank top, denim capris and black Nike’s; it didn’t feel right, but it would have to do. Opening the door, you made your way down the hall and the flight of stairs leading to the big open foyer. Bucky stood with his back to the stairs looking at his phone, the sound of your footsteps drawing his attention to turn around. 

“Wow,” He said smiling. “You look amazing.” 

A blush crept up your cheeks, “Thanks, Buck.”

He held out his arm, “We should go, Pepper sent over a car. Apparently, she doesn’t trust me to get to the game myself.”

You laughed grabbing a hold of his arm. “I probably wouldn’t trust you either.” 

“I should probably be offended by that statement,” Bucky said as he led you out of the door.

“You probably would be, if you didn’t know there was some truth to it.”

He laughed as the driver opened the backdoor.

“Thank you,” You said as he waited for you to get in before closing it himself. 

The drive went by quickly despite being through heavy traffic, electricity seemed to fill the silent car as you both looked out your separate windows as the car. When you arrived at the stadium you were taken by a security team to a private box that overlooked the stadium while Bucky was led to the locker room where he would meet the team and prepare for the first pitch.

“Sergeant Barnes will be up after the ceremonial pitch, through those doors,” the man pointed, “is a full bar and eatery. If you need anything, Mrs. Barnes security will be right outside the door. Enjoy the game.”

The man didn’t wait for any response, he just left the box. You were shocked by the man’s assumption that you were married. You wondered if Pepper knew you would be in attendance, or was Bucky planning to bring someone else? Before you let your mind wander any further you walked through the door the attendant had pointed out and got two beers – one for you and one for Bucky.

You sat in the middle seat of the row and watched as the players of each team warmed up and Bucky appeared to chat up some executive looking people. You were impressed at how casual he made everything look, you knew the anxiety he was feeling about the situation only because you had known him so long. You imagined if Steve and Natasha were still here how different this situation would be, you may not even be here; but if you were you could imagine Steve cheering him on and Natasha telling him not to cheat with his metal arm. Cheers broke your thoughtful trance as the announcer introduced the ‘Avenger Sgt Bucky Barnes on behalf of Stark Industries’. You smiled and cheer from your seat as he threw out the first pitch. 

It was only a matter of minutes before the box door opened and Bucky appeared. 

“Looked good out there Barnes.” You said turning to look at him.

“Thanks, it’s been a long time since I’ve thrown a baseball.” He said coming to sit next to you.

“What a hundred years or so?” You smirked.

“Oh, you’ve got jokes now do you?” He laughed.

“I don’t know if they actually have any effect on you, but I got you a beer.” You gestured to the cup holder in front of him.

“Thank you,” He said reaching for the bottle.

You watched rotations of batters come up slowly piecing together the bits of the game, you’d probably be more focused on the game if Bucky’s arm wasn’t slung across the back of your seat. It was a simple gesture that shouldn’t be so distracting, but this was the closest proximity you’d ever been with each other.  Emptying your own beer bottle, you slipped it back in the cupholder.

“Would you like another?” Bucky asked as he emptied his own. “I believe that was part of the agreement.”

You smiled at him, “Yes please.”

He stood to grab both bottles, “I’ll be right back.”

The short time he was gone you found yourself paying closer attention to the game, it was seemingly straight forward – ball hit, run to base and try not to get out. It was clearly more complicated, but that was definitely the basic understanding. 

Bucky came to sit next to you again, holding out the beer to you with a smile grinning from ear to ear. 

“Thank you” You took it, “what’s got you so smiley?” You asked.

“Did you know they think we’re married?” He laughed.

“I assumed they probably did. The man who brought me up here referred to me as Mrs. Barnes.” 

“It does have a nice ring to it,” Bucky mumbled,

He had a good habit of mumbling; you often chose not to respond because you rarely thought you were actually supposed to hear them. A blush crept up your cheeks at his statement, nonetheless. A few more silent moments passed between you.

“I feel like I’m not keeping up my end of the bargain.” He said breaking the silence. 

“What do you mean?”

“I was under the impression that I would be answering ridiculous questions.” 

You laughed, “It seems straight forward enough, I haven’t thought of any.” 

“They don’t have to be just about the game.” He replied.

The answer surprised you. Bucky had never been very open with you and this seemed like an open invitation to be just that.

“Well, this could get interesting.” You smiled before taking a sip of your beer.

He flashed you a sincere Bucky smile, the kind that could melt even the thickest ice blocks.

“You never did answer the question about this?” You gestured towards the beer in his hand.

“It does affect me; it takes a lot more than the average person.”

You nodded, “Do you really hate Sam?”

He laughed, “I can’t answer that, you’ll tell him.”

You laughed and shook your head. “I would never.” 

He stuck out his flesh pinky towards you, “promise?”

You pink promised him.

“No I don’t; not since after the blip.”

“But you’re still mean to him?”

“That term is a little harsh.”

You laughed, “You moved all of his bedroom furniture out to the courtyard knowing he’d come home in the middle of the night from a mission.”

Bucky laughed. “Point taken.”

You paused thinking for a moment, “What is your favorite color?” 

He looked at you puzzled by the simple question, “Red.” He replied.

“Favorite musician from your era?”

“It would depend on what the occasion was; probably Louis Armstrong or Bing Crosby.”

“Two names I can actually recognize.” You laughed.

“I’ve seen the stacks of Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald vinyl albums in your room.”

“You’ve been in there?” You questioned. 

“A few times.” He hesitated as he watched your expression, “Sometimes if you’re on a long mission or missed a check-in I will sit in there while I wait to hear.” He looked away and picked at the label on the bottle. “It makes me feel a little closer to you, the room smells like you too.”

You smiled at the sentiment of his statement. 

The two of you bantered back and forth, him answering any question you could think of; you attempted to keep them as lighthearted as possible. The game seemed to pass by quickly, the crowd being your indicator if something was good or bad. None of it seemed to matter much to the two of you. Bucky got up to get you both another round of drinks and came back with a pair of filled shot glasses. 

“To better friendships.” He said handing you one of the glasses. 

You smiled at him, “So you thought we were friends before this?” 

He looked at you confused, 

“I’m kidding Bucky.” You said setting your hand on his thigh. “Spre prietenie.”

Both of you downed your shots.

“I didn’t know you could speak Romanian.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” 

A light breeze kicked in causing you to shiver. You didn’t feel cold, but you were sure the alcohol had lowered your blood pressure causing your body temperature to decrease as well. 

“It’s cold, you should take my jacket,” Bucky said shimming out of the long sleeve black flannel he had on.

It left him in a short sleeve white t-shirt that sculpted to his body perfectly. He pulled the flannel over your shoulders wrapping you in the warmth and the sweet smell of him. 

“Thanks, Buck, guess I hadn’t realized it would get so chilly.”

He smiled back at you. 

“Alright folks, it’s time for the 7th inning stretch! Everybody on your feet!” The announcer called out. 

“Wait, it’s a real thing?” You asked with a laugh. 

“Come on doll,” Bucky said standing up. 

You had never seen him like this- childlike, innocent happiness. 

“Take me out to the ball game, Take me out with the crowd;” He sung out, swaying with the crowd. “Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack, I don't care if I never get back.” He smiled at you as you watched in awe, “ Let me root, root, root for the home team, If they don't win, it's a shame. For it's one, two, three strikes, you're out, At the old ball game” Bucky counted three strikeouts on his fingers in your direction. 

The crowd cheered as the song ended with everyone taking their seats. Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much at this new version of Bucky you witnessed. 

“What?” He said sitting down, his arm stretching behind your seat again. 

“Nothing,” 

“(Y/N), spit it out.” 

"This is a good look for you, Buck."

He looked at you confused.

"Happy." You stated, "I'm not even joking when I say that your smile could melt the polar ice caps."

The sun cast a shadow across his face, but you were pretty sure that you were witnessing him blush for the first time. You were beginning to think the alcohol was a bad idea, the line between the Bucky you knew, and the alcohol influenced Bucky was blurry and only got worse with each passing second. Picking up the bottle from the cup holder you finished what was left of it.

“I’m going to run to the little girl’s room.” You said standing up.

Bucky smiled up at you, “Do you want me to grab you another drink while you’re gone”

“No, I’m okay. Thank you though.”

You took the space as an opportunity to breathe and try and get your head back on straight. Something changed, you couldn’t put your finger on it, but there was no way that Bucky had ingested enough alcohol to make this kind of change. 

Smiling at him you sat back down. His arm quickly found its way around the back of your seat and you took it as an opportunity to make a move of your own, settling into your seat you rested your head on his shoulder. It was a simple gesture and he didn’t seem to pull away from it. Instead, his arm came to rest on your own pulling you closer to his side. Between the alcohol, the fall heat and the glorious smell that could only be described as Bucky you found yourself in a trance-like state.

The crowd cheered in the background as a fan caught a fly ball. 

“Hey, Buck,”

“Yeah doll?” 

“Thank you for today.” 

He squeezed you a little tighter, “I should be the one thanking you for coming with me.” You could feel the sigh he let out. “I also owe you an apology.”

With that, you pulled your head back to look at him.

“Please hear me out.”

“Okay.” 

“Ever since the day you moved in, I’ve kept you at a distance and I haven’t been fair to you. You can relate to so many things from my past and that terrified me; I would see you do amazing things and care so much about others around you. Every day I seem to fall more in love with you and I’m tired of fighting it.”

You smiled at his confession, pressure building in your chest. 

“I know that I haven’t given you any reason to feel the same, but if you’ll let me, I’d like to change that.”

Before he could say anymore you leaned forward to kiss him, your fingers tangled in the hair at the base of his neck. When you broke the kiss, you leaned your forehead against his neck trying to catch your breath, he placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“I’m guessing that means you’ll let me try to make it up to you.”

You both laughed softly.

Looking up at him you smiled, “You don’t have anything to make up.”

You laid your head on his shoulder again. “I wish we could stay like this forever.” You said softly.  “I don’t want to deal with Sam yet.”

Bucky laughed at your truthful statement. “I know a few ways to shut him up.”

It was your turn to laugh at him. 

He leaned in kissing you again, the game in front of you completely forgotten. You weren’t sure what any of this meant, but you were more than willing to find out.

**********

Thanks for reading!! If like what you read, you can find more here.

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[sunshiinepower]

WEIRD HEADCANON

(copy and pasted from a meme resource. feel free to copy and fill in for your own muse!)

WHAT THEY SMELL LIKE: Clean laundry. I like the idea that despite getting older and dealing with his injury on a near daily basis, the one thing that Toshinori ensures is always taken care of is his laundry.

HOW THEY SLEEP ( sleeping position, schedule, etc ): Typically on his right side, so as not to irritate his injury. He lives with chronic pain and often times, this is the only position that will allow him some form of calm. However, when staying at his partner’s home, he is often found sleeping on his back. By way of sleeping schedule, no such thing exists. Sometimes he’ll be asleep by 6pm, other times he won’t find sleep until 3am, and more often than not, he simply won’t sleep - simply nap periodically throughout the day.

WHAT MUSIC THEY ENJOY: Toshi doesn’t really have a favorite. He knows he’s not particularly fond of loud music, but anything goes for him, really!

HOW MUCH TIME THEY SPEND EVERY MORNING GETTING READY: LOL! The bare minimum amount of time. Toshi rolls out of his bed, changes into clean clothes, and is ready to start the day. 

FAVOURITE THING TO COLLECT: Pro Hero merch. Not just his own, either. He does his best to properly support the other Pro’s by buying various T-shirts and things, which can sometimes lead to some pretty awkward encounters while walking around in public.

LEFT OR RIGHT HANDED: Right.

RELIGION (if any): N/A

FAVOURITE SPORT(S): Baseball. Ever since studying in America, he’s grown very fond of watching the games and picking favorites.

FAVOURITE TOURISTY THING TO DO WHEN TRAVELING: Try all the things. Anywhere he goes, no matter how rural or urban, Toshinori just wants to visit all the things.

FAVOURITE KIND OF WEATHER: Sunny days. Preferably not too hot, but he enjoys taking long walks when the weather is nice and he can properly admire a sunset / sunrise.

WEIRD/OBSCURE FEAR THEY HAVE: He hates spiders. There is no story behind this or any grand reasoning, but the man does not get along with the creepy crawlies. 

THE CARNIVAL/ARCADE GAME THEY ALWAYS WIN WITHOUT FAIL: Anything that tests his strength.

tagged: @uncontrolled-outburst​ [ thank you so so much!! ]

tagging: @manifestedsun​ @truexman​ @fatgumtm​ @txnatiuh​ @ultraqrk​ @shiftingsupport​

|| The rest of the muses are under the Read More if you’re interested!! ||

WHAT THEY SMELL LIKE: Hints of cologne. Mirio is 100% a Chad, and the dude never leaves anywhere without smelling like he very lightly tripped into an Old Spice ad.

HOW THEY SLEEP ( sleeping position, schedule, etc ): On his back, typically, splayed out every which way. He’s not at all a neat sleeper, but once he goes out in one position, he’ll remain in it until he wakes up.

WHAT MUSIC THEY ENJOY: Peppy music! Anything that’s got a good bop with some high energy, Mirio is absolutely into. Because of this, some of his favorite music choices almost always involve a remix of some kind, though his favorite “style” would have to be something akin to Owl City.

HOW MUCH TIME THEY SPEND EVERY MORNING GETTING READY: Just enough time to take a shower, brush his teeth, and style his hair! 30 minutes tops for this young man!

FAVOURITE THING TO COLLECT: Sweatshirts. Not only because he thoroughly enjoys wearing them, but also because it makes him giddy when Tamaki wears them. In the summer, however, he is notorious for collecting sandals/flip flops. It is an actual problem.

LEFT OR RIGHT HANDED: Right.

RELIGION (if any): N/A

FAVOURITE SPORT(S): Basketball & figure skating. He’s not big into sports, but he has a favorite team and he’ll watch their games, and in between, he’ll make it a point to watch any figure skating competitions that he hears about.

FAVOURITE TOURISTY THING TO DO WHEN TRAVELING: Explore! Anywhere he goes, he wants to be able to visit some kind of natural beauty. Whether it be a hiking trail or an old shrine or even some kind of nearby, historical landmark.

FAVOURITE KIND OF WEATHER: Summer weather. The sun’s out. It’s hot. He can go swimming during the day, and jogging at night, all while knowing he’s free to wear but one layer.

WEIRD/OBSCURE FEAR THEY HAVE: Nightmares. He doesn’t get them often, but when he does, they make it incredibly hard to go back to sleep. They follow him around for a solid day and a half and it leaves him swinging much too low; all of which he has a hard time handling.

THE CARNIVAL/ARCADE GAME THEY ALWAYS WIN WITHOUT FAIL: He fails at all of them, but always winds up blowing too much money under the belief that he might win. Someday. 

WHAT THEY SMELL LIKE: Coconut oil & shea butter. Dude takes the best care of his skin.

HOW THEY SLEEP ( sleeping position, schedule, etc ): On his stomach. Most of the time he’s found laying on top of a pillow too, snuggling against it, but when he’s too tired, he just kinda falls onto the bed and calls it a night.

WHAT MUSIC THEY ENJOY: The good stuff. AJR, Set It Off, Panic! At the Disco, etc. etc. 

HOW MUCH TIME THEY SPEND EVERY MORNING GETTING READY: A bit of time is spent in the mornings. He’s the type to wake up and then lay in the bed for the next hour staring at his phone, before finally getting up to do whatever needs to be done.

FAVOURITE THING TO COLLECT: Homemade Trinkets. He doesn’t collect often, and as such, when he does, it’s mostly little things that pique his interest when visiting other areas. New towns and/or cities have plenty of exciting attractions for the young Pro Hero, but if he happens to catch a shop selling handmade goods, he’ll drop by and buy the odd thing or two.

LEFT OR RIGHT HANDED: Left.

RELIGION (if any): N/A

FAVOURITE SPORT(S): Doesn’t have any. Hawks isn’t much of a sports fan.

FAVOURITE TOURISTY THING TO DO WHEN TRAVELING: Eat everything. He knows he doesn’t have much and when visiting new places, he’s typically on the job (which provides even less time), but he can’t help swinging into any and all the restaurants that he can before heading back home.

FAVOURITE KIND OF WEATHER: He really likes clear skies, for the sake of being able to fly and enjoy it. Take in all the sights and his surroundings and admire it from afar. But more than anything, he genuinely enjoys rainy weather. He believes there’s a special sort of serenity to the white noise it provides and the way it drowns everything else out. When possible, he thoroughly enjoys staring out the closest window with a cup of coffee on hand.

WEIRD/OBSCURE FEAR THEY HAVE: Abandonment. Despite doing most of his work alone, courtesy of the double life he lives, and not wishing to get too close to anyone, Hawks carries a fear of abandonment all the same. He never truly wants to be alone, but typically hides this well enough when around others.

THE CARNIVAL/ARCADE GAME THEY ALWAYS WIN WITHOUT FAIL: Ring toss. He may or may not cheat a little~!

[ckret2]

“You’re so vain” “Give em hell kid” And “I hope you die” I’d love to hear those explanations

Righto! Okay so recap for the people who might have missed it, this is about the radiosnake playlist I mentioned/linked a bit over a week ago, Serpentine & Demonswing. When I posted it I also added an “and if you wanna know why any songs are on the playlist you’re free to ask.” The playlist is a work in progress so some of my answers are gonna be “so here’s the explanation for why it was included but tbh I’m not 100% on keeping it.”

Important things to mention before getting into it: the playlist is build specifically off my headcanons from “Cold Day In Hell,” and so all of the songs act on the assumption that CDIH is “canon.” (tl;dr: they’re exes, because Alastor got scared of emotional intimacy, told Sir Pent he never actually liked him, and ran off after blowing up all his airships.) The first chunk of songs is from Sir Pent’s perspective, the second chunk is from Alastor’s, the third is from them both or about them both, and the last few songs are “I like the vibe but honestly am not sure this fits the playlist.”

Also, y’all are welcome to keep asking me about songs, because this is a lot of fun.

I’m absolutely sure that tumblr is going to delete this read more out of the post but I’m going to put one anyway, maybe it’ll let this one work just to be contrary. If it doesn’t, I apologize for the dash stretcher, that’s just how tumblr do.

So! Explanations:

You’re So Vain (Lyrics)

This one is on the Sir Pentious side, so, although it’s not directly/accurately about Alastor, it is about how Sir Pent sees him in light of their catastrophic breakup.

Verse 1 is less on the nose in its description of Alastor, but you get the impression of someone who is obsessed with how he comes across to other people, and who is far more interested in himself and the image he’s giving off than he is in any of the people he’s trying to impress. A great deal of Alastor’s personality is—or at the very least, comes off as—completely performative. As though to this day he’s still nothing but a radio host performing for a listening audience, even when he’s only talking to one person. The fact that he’s always wearing a fake smile and pointedly providing his own sound effects adds to that impression of a performer who never breaks character.

And the fact that the character in the song is still wholly self-absorbed even when he’s dancing with a partner gives a nice little glimpse into how Sir Pent’s retroactively reinterpreted his last evening with Alastor.

Verse 2 is the stanza that comes closest to completely accurately reflecting what went down between them. First, the alliance between them, the implicit promises that they the were going to conquer Hell and then Heaven as partners in crime—“Well, you said that we made such a pretty pair / And that you would never leave”—and then, the breakup—“But you gave away the things you loved / And one of them was me.” It’s the one line that acknowledges that the character in the song did, indeed, actually love the singer, and wasn’t just performing a role/playing at being in love.

It’s also a line that would ring false to Sir Pentious, because in the aftermath of CDIH, he genuinely doesn’t believe that Alastor ever loved him. He completely buys Alastor’s claim that he was just screwing around with Sir Pent’s emotions for his own entertainment. Words to the effect of “one of [the things you loved] was me” would never come out of Sir Pent’s mouth.

However. Of all the lines in all of the songs in Sir Pent’s portion of the playlist, that one line is the most accurate thing that could be said about Alastor, the blade that would stab into the core of who he is and the role that he played in this story. Because of his vanity—his selfishness, his pride, his obsession with his own independence, his fear of love, his fear of vulnerability, his fear of sharing his life with someone else, etc.—he didn’t just lose what he loved, he did very deliberately and intentionally give it away.

(I’ve always found that line to be the most interesting in the song, for the hint that this vain person did indeed truly feel for someone else, so I’m glad that line fits so well here.)

Verse 3 is just more “what Alastor is like as observed by Sir Pent,” except even more accurately than the first stanza. Constantly running around, constantly moving on from one brief source of entertainment to another (just stuff “threw his support behind the Happy Hotel” somewhere between “gambled on a horse race” and “watched an eclipse”), constantly socializing with dangerous people and people whom he’s going to hurt without caring in the slightest.

Okay so that’s the lyrics.

Making sure the aesthetics/styles/genres of the songs match the character they’re for is one of my high priorities on this fanmix—not to the extent that having the wrong style is an instant dealbreaker, but I’m going to be hesitant to include a song that doesn’t at all match the sound I’m going for. For Sir Pentious, I’m kind of running with two styles.

The first style is “sounds Victorian-ish enough to get a shrug and a nod from anybody who doesn’t actually know/care about Victorian-era music,” so that’s gonna be just about anything orchestral/symphonic that doesn’t clearly fall into a different genre, symphonic metal that sounds symphonic enough to satisfy me, instrumental covers of other songs (string quartets, piano, full orchestra...), things with harpsichords (LISTEN i know that harpsichords are more baroque but they’ve got the right Vibe, you know, they’ve got the Feeling), and things with organ—but like, it’s gotta sound like pipe organ (pipe organ—sounds like a church) and not like Hammond organ (Hammond organ—sounds like a baseball game). Also steampunk, except a lot of “steampunk” genre music sounds swingy/jazzy, so those songs get ruled out because that’s Alastor’s aesthetic. And also, like, actual classical music, but I’m not into a lot of actual classical music, so I don’t think any’s actually made it in yet, lmao.

The second style is based on what the creator herself said about Sir Pent’s music preferences: “Sir Pentious would listen to Blink-182. Pentious would literally listen to stuff like Linkin Park, Green Day, the emo stuff.” So I took "the emo stuff” as “oh okay cool so the stuff I listened to at 15 got it” and ran wild with that. I’ve been most heavily drawing from My Chemical Romance, Panic! At The Disco, and Mindless Self Indulgence to represent that half of Sir Pent’s preferences. (MSI because I feel like that fits an in-your-face and morally jaded villain, P!ATD because their newer stuff fits his flamboyance and exuberance and egotism, and MCR because... because I know them best.) I haven’t yet made much time to carefully comb the discographies of the other bands listed or look into other more traditional emo-associated acts.

Carly Simon’s original “You’re So Vain” matches neither of these styles.

I combed through about 60 different versions of “You’re So Vain” on Spotify looking for ones that meet one of these aesthetics. Like 90% of them were, I’m pretty sure, just various singers adding their vocals directly over a karaoke version of Carly Simon’s original.

In the end, the only one that came close was Marilyn Manson’s cover. He’s a bit outside of the bounds I try to stick in for Sir Pent, but like, okay, he’s industrial metal, but in a particularly goth way, that’s close enough to emo. To my mind, “Sir Pent listens to emo” is like... Sir Pentious’s musical preferences are going to be, 1) counterculture, the kind of stuff that causes conservative Christian moms to go into moral panics, but also 2) mainstream counterculture, the kind of bands that produce huge hits & get featured in major blockbuster movies, but also also 3) slightly dated mainstream counterculture, i.e., at the end of the 2010s he’s listening to the bands that may still be popular but that peaked in the mid 2000s, in keeping with the way he’s trying to keep hip and modern but always seems a little bit behind.

So, in the 2010s, he’s listening to 2000s emo acts. In the 2000s, he was listening to the 1990s’ biggest metal acts (like Marilyn Manson) and possibly grunge acts (things like Nirvana, Smashing Pumpkins). In the 1990s, he was listening to the 1980s’ biggest post-punk and new wave acts (like The Cure, Joy Division/New Order, Depeche Mode). Always evolving his stylistic preferences, always trying to keep up, but always a little behind. So that’s how I justify putting Marilyn Manson in lmao.

Although that was the only version of “You’re So Vain” I thought fit well enough, I also found a version by Trash Pour 4, a version by Les Reed Orchestra, and a version by Giant Sand that were all very good. Trash Pour 4 is driving me crazy because I can’t quite figure out what genre they are, I just can’t place them—but they’ve got several other good covers that I’d like to take advantage of at some point.

I also found a song called “You’re So Vain (Christian Dior)” by The Energy Commission that’s not a cover of Carly Simon’s song, just a new song with the same name. I’m lowkey considering including on Alastor’s side of the playlist. It’d serve as a very sharp critique of how image obsessed Sir Pent is, there’s some snappy turns of phrase that seem like they’d appeal to Alastor’s sense of humor (my two favorites are “He went off the deep end ‘cause he’s so shallow” and “He’s got a timepiece on his wrist and it says ‘watch me’”), the fact that it’s a critique specifically of high class materialism fits with the fact that I headcanon Sir Pent as coming from British nobility while Alastor’s ancestry is both racially and socially mixed (including at least one close relative who was a slave, I’m thinking a grandparent but haven’t settled on my headcanons yet), and I love when there are parallels like that in playlists about the relationship between lovers/partners/rivals/siblings/any-combo-of-two-people.

The reason I haven’t added it yet is because, by the end of the song, it’s not just a critique of being a rich shallow image-obsessed douche, but specifically of how that culture ties in to exploitative capitalism that’s wrecking human lives and the world—which, in the context of the characters we’re talking about here, would translate into a criticism of Sir Pentious’s very-imperialist-sounding take-over-the-world villain ambitions. Which isn’t something I think Alastor cares about. He probably should, but like, he just doesn’t. He’s a villain himself. I’m sure he’s got his own morals and standards and hard limits but “take over the world” isn’t on his list of dealbreakers. What’s taking over the world include? Mass murder and subjugation? Yeah, he’s cool with that. So that’s why I’m still on the fence about adding it.

Give ‘Em Hell, Kid (Lyrics)

So remember how I said that My Chemical Romance is one of the bands I’ve drawn from most heavily so far in looking for emo Sir Pent songs? Yeah for about a day there were six different MCR songs sitting in Serpentine & Demonswing as I slowly whittled them down to the ones that I thought fit best. “Give ‘Em Hell, Kid” is one of the last three, and actually one that I’m constantly on the verge of cutting.

Lyrically, it’s an Alastor song. There’s mentions of the singer having come from New Orleans (listen... i am a sucker for songs that mention New Orleans, it automatically earns five points on the imaginary “is this an Alastor song?” rubric in my head). The singer is singing about a love interest who’s gone, and he’s making no moves to pursue/reclaim the love interest, wishing them well (“So go on, live your life”), but he’s a wreck and a lesser person without them (“If you were here, I'd never have a fear,” “Well I'm a total wreck and almost every day”), and it’s just getting worse with time, not better (“But I miss you more than I did yesterday”).

The line “Some might say we are made from the sharpest things you say” although directed toward “you,” i.e. the love interest, i.e. Sir Pentious, in my head actually reflects more on the things Alastor said to Sir Pentious: the cruel things he said to Pent—that he’s weak, ineffective, behind the times, a has-been, never going to conquer hell—ended up a self-fulfilling prophecy, because that’s exactly what Alastor’s rampage made happen. Today, as he is now, Sir Pentious is made from the sharpest things Alastor said.

“Your dreams and your hopeless hair” makes me think of Sir Pent’s wild efforts to conquer hell (and, of course, his ridiculous cobra hood), and “We never wanted it to be this way for all our lives” is a perfect expression of Alastor’s regrets/remorse over what his actions have done to both of their lives, but especially to Sir Pent’s life.

And all the references to violence—murder scenes, firing squads, sharpest things—fit with the fact that both of them chose to live lives soaked in blood.

So it’s a perfect Alastor song. The only problem is, it’s an MCR song, which is sooo far outside of my acceptable genres for him. (I’m not gonna get into Alastor’s genres now bc there are better songs to do that on, just know emo ain’t it.) And not only is it outside of his acceptable genres, it’s in the OTHER character’s acceptable genres, which is very messy. I can vibe with “lovers’ songs borrowing from each other’s aesthetic” a LITTLE bit when it’s used to represent, like, emotional synchronicity or the like (ex: both “Roustabout” and Vernian Process’s “Maple Leaf Rag” are on my “Alastor+Sir Pent style fusion songs” list). But MCR is a big departure from Alastor’s acceptable styles.

Plus, the playlist already has two MCR songs, and do I really need three songs from the same band? Unless there’s a really good reason, I try to avoid having repeats from the same band on one playlist—I feel like a good well-rounded fanmix oughta have a diversity of sources. (With “a really good reason” being something like “I’ve got the playlist divided into five sections detailing five phases of the character’s life and each section is introduced with a different track from the same band” or “I’ve got an instrumental version of the song to kick off the playlist to serve as ‘foreshadowing’ for when the version with lyrics shows up at the most dramatic moment” or something like that.)

If I was going to, like, make it a thing, I could. Justify it like “there’s one MCR song that represents them when they’re together, one MCR song from Sir Pent’s perspective, and one MCR song from Alastor’s perspective, like a little triangle,” but like... if I was going to do that I feel like I’d want to do it with a style that’s either representative of both of them or else independent of both of them, and MCR is so heavily a Sir Pent sound. Basically, having three songs from one band would be okay if it was a band that vibes with the overall tone I’m shooting for in the playlist—but it’s not. So I’m very torn on “Give ‘Em Hell, Kid.”

“El Tango De Roxanne” + “Overture” + “I Hope You Die”

Okay before I can talk about “I Hope You Die” by itself, I kind of have to explain its exact position in the playlist and its relationship with the other two songs I just listed.

While MOST of the playlist is chunked up into the four sections I mentioned earlier (Sir Pent, Alastor, both, undecided), within those sections the songs aren’t really in any particular order. The one exception is the very first three songs on the playlist/the very first three songs in Sir Pent’s section.

These three songs, presented in that order, all as Sir Pent songs, serve as Sir “in war, the side remembered is the side with the most style” Pentious the Super Villain making his big entrance like:

“El Tango De Roxanne” starts slow/quiet, and then (with a couple of brief dips) it gradually builds in volume and pain and intensity, getting faster and more emphatic, switching from mournful longing to nearly-angry anguish, until it ends with a pained scream, steampunkish percussion, howling background singers, and a wailing violin.

And then it pauses, for just a moment.

And then “Overture” hammers you with the most dramatic opening chord you will ever hear on an organ in your life, perfectly matching the energy at the end of “El Tango De Roxanne” and maintaining that level of energy throughout the song.

And then it stops so quickly it’s like someone gasped, holding its breath for a split second—and then some dude yells “You must die! I alone am best!” and the guitars kick in for “I Hope You Die,” leading into a depiction of the most intense, vitriolic, disgusting sort of loathing imaginable.

The build-up from “El Tango De Roxanne” and “Overture” really revs up “I Hope You Die,” the intensity of the organ in “Overture” highlights the intensity of the guitar in “I Hope You Die,” and all together it hypes up what could have been just a dark humor song about hating someone into something that sounds like a very genuine demonstration of hatred.

And taken all together, it makes for a fantastic intro for Sir Pent.

It also serves as a perfect intro to the current state of affairs between him and Alastor—sort of expressing his personal emotional journey on the morning Alastor betrayed him, as his reaction transforms over the course of three songs from grief/despair to fathomless fury.

There’s more I could say individually about “El Tango De Roxanne” and “Overture,” but I won’t, because it’s “I Hope You Die” time.

“I Hope You Die” (Lyrics - warning for a whole stanza dedicated to hoping someone gets raped in prison)

A small handful of the songs in my Hazbin playlists were discovered in and added from existing Hazbin character playlists I found on Spotify before I started making my own. “I Hope You Die” was one of them, found here. Which is why it was added even though it doesn’t fit my strict genre standards, it won me over before I narrowed down the styles I’m working with lmao.

(I feel like “El Tango De Roxanne” was one of those too, but I can’t now find a Spotify playlist containing it that added it before I did. Where did I grab it from? It’s not something I would’ve looked up on my own, something must have inspired me. IDK what though. None of the other songs mentioned in this post were found on other playlists.)

So this song is, obviously, just about how much some dude hates somebody else and wants extremely horrible things to happen to them. It’s sorta... *eyes lyrics uneasily* ... sorta tasteless; but, tasteless in a way that I feel like reflects back on the character singing the song. The feeling I come away from after finishing the song isn’t “the band wants you to think the person they’re singing about deserves this to happen to them,” because it doesn’t even give a reason why the singer hopes this person suffers; but rather, “the band wants you to think that this is the kind of hatred that the character/persona the singer is portraying is capable of, this is the kind of vile stuff that character wants to see done to their enemies, this is representative of the depths of that character’s rage.” Which is why I’m like “yeah... okay, sure, that fits” even though I’m real iffy about the last couple stanzas.

Because for a character who’s in Hell surrounded by people who have stomped on the last dredges of their civility and decency, and a character who’s patterned after a super villain (and, because the series creator dropped the idea that there are heroes/villains in the living world, the only super villain in this setting), and a character who gleefully boasts about being evil, and a character who we know demonstrates very rapid/extreme emotions and expressions of hate/outrage... Yes, I can absolutely see this song as the exact sort of hatred Sir Pentious would level at somebody who’s slighted him. And Alastor blew way the hell past “slighting” him. Alastor, without exaggeration, has ruined his life (afterlife?) and over fifty years later Sir Pent is still unsuccessfully struggling to get back up to the level he was at before he even met Alastor. Right now, Sir Pentious really and truly and deeply despises Alastor.

A song like this—sheer, frothing, unrestrained, vengeful contempt—tells you a whole lot about what kind of emotions Sir Pentious is capable; and it tells you a whole lot about the kind of effect Alastor’s actions have had on him, to inspire this level of reaction from someone who was very close to him for fifteen years and increasingly in love with him for probably a good amount of that time.

Plus, the “You must die! I alone am best!” is such a very, very Sir Pentious sentiment.

So that’s those songs! Again, y’all are free to ask me for my thoughts on more. Yes, most of them will probably be like this, lol.

[hispeculiartreasure]

All We’ve Got is Time - Chapter Eleven | B.B.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

AU: If They’d Survived/Post-War/Window Washer!Bucky Barnes

Rating: All Ages

Word count:  3,681

Chapter 11/24

Warnings: Just me being a baseball nerd.

AN: Thank you for your continued patience as I work on this story! Serving on a jury really threw my writing schedule for a loop. And then all the doubts and fear crept into my mind, but sweet friends helped battle it, per usual. The next chapter should be out by next week, it’s one that’s been in the works for a while and should be a fairly quick write for me.

Let me know what you think! Love you all, sharing this with you has been a delight.

A few notes from a huge baseball nerd right here - the game I wrote about is June 21, 1946, which was actually a Friday night. But they lost the Saturday game in real life and that wouldn’t have been near as fun to write about and I couldn’t see Flannery letting Sixth Floor off of work early for a baseball game. So grant me that one small creative liberty. I even used the box score from that game to help guide the chapter -- Pee Wee Reese is indeed in the Hall of Fame and ball parks all over the country broke attendance records in 1946. If anyone cares, the Dodgers and Cardinals ended up tied that season, so they had an extra series of games to determine who won the Pennant that year; sadly, the Dodgers lost. And the 1941 game that Bucky recounts? Same game as the one Steve hears on the radio when he wakes up in modern day New York in CA:TFA.

Chapter Ten

‘All We’ve Got is Time’ Masterlist

“You’ve honestly never been to a pro ball game before?” Bucky eyes you as he hands over two tickets to the Ebbet’s Field worker who waves you through the turnstiles.

Brooklyn Dodgers fans swarm around the two of you, the number of people surprising. The late June heat is near-stifling and you find yourself grateful for your sundress and hat; sweat had already broken out on Bucky’s brow as he adjusts his suit jacket. At least he had a hat to try to ward off some of the sun. A ballpark wasn’t your first choice of location for a Saturday date but Bucky had been so excited to introduce you to the team and sport he loved, you couldn’t refuse.

“Nope, never. My hometown is pretty small and Dad wasn’t interested.”

Bucky’s hand finds its way into yours before he grins at you. “Well, then. Guess it’s my job to make sure you get The Dodgers Experience. Let’s get you a hot dog.”

The smell of sausage wafts toward you from the concession stand. Each step forward is announced by the distinct crunch of peanut shells beneath your feet. While waiting in line, you turn and catch sight of the field for the first time. Chalk lines indicating foul territory are fresh; you note the players warming up on the field make an extra effort to avoid stepping on the white. The vibrant expanse of green grass spreads much further than you had expected. You couldn’t imagine how anyone managed to hit a small ball far enough to launch out of a park of this size, though you know it was not unusual.

Bucky turns to you in line and states matter-of-factly, “There are three important things you need to know today: we love the Dodgers, hate the Yankees, and are in a bitter rivalry with St. Louis - who we are playing today.”

You hum and muse, “I bet the games against the Yankees are intense since fans are all here in New York.”

“Oh, we don’t play them during the regular season. We’re in different leagues.” Bucky then steps up to the stand, ordering you hot dogs and a bag of peanuts.

Narrowing your eyes, you squint at him dramatically. “That doesn’t make any sense, why do we hate them if we never play them?”

He thanks the attendant and hands over your food, leading the way toward your seats. “It’s the principle of the thing, they take up New York fan real estate. You’re not wrong, though, the World Series games we’ve played against them have been pretty ugly. Plus, they’re from the Bronx. What could be worse?”

Following as he begins to descend giant concrete steps down toward the field you ask, “Isn’t there a third New York baseball team?”

His chuckle floats back up to you. “The Giants are in last place, they’re not a problem.”

“Okay, why are we in a rivalry with St. Louis?”

“Been neck-and-neck all season,” he says as he motions you down the narrow row to your seats close to third base. “People are already saying it’s gonna be either us or them in the World Series.”

“Isn’t it a few months early for that?” you follow his gesture before plopping onto the small chair that was marked the same as your ticket. The wooden seats were painted royal blue to match the team’s jersey colors, offering a bright pop in the stadium. Sitting down made you realize how crowded the seats were; thank goodness the idea of being close to Bucky wasn’t an unpleasant one.

“It’s all about the long game. Four months will fly by and every game counts.” He settles into his seat beside you before digging into his ballpark meal. “Alright, how much do you know about the game?”

You narrow your eyes at your boyfriend. “I’m not dumb, Bucky. I played street ball as a kid. You try to hit the ball with the bat, run the bases, make it to home plate to score points.”

“Runs,” he mumbles around a mouthful. You tilt your head in confusion before you bite into your hot dog as well. “They aren’t points in baseball. You score runs.”

“Ugh,” you roll your eyes. “You’re that kind of fan.”

“A dedicated one? Yes, yes I am.” He offers a smug smile as he chews which only prompts you to slap his shoulder in good nature.

“More like an obnoxious one.”

He takes great offense to that and blurts out, “Baseball has been part of my life for as long as I can remember! Whether it was with my family or just Dad, this field has always been a happy place. It’s one of the few places Dad and I got along.”

You let the weight of that admission settle before you get a laugh out of Bucky when you moan over how great the hot dog tastes, soon after he affectionately slaps at your hand when you reach for the bag of peanuts in his lap.

“That’s who you wanna keep your eye on today,” he points to a player standing between second and third base. The stout man scoops up a ball tossed from the first baseman, easily throwing it back in a laser-straight line. “Pee Wee Reese. Best shortstop in baseball right now.”

“Pee Wee? Please tell me that’s a nickname.” 

Bucky nods before continuing, “He’s gonna be in the Hall of Fame one day, I guarantee it. He missed three seasons serving in the Navy. As soon as he stepped on the field again, we all knew we had a shot at the Pennant. A lot of the players served in the war, but things are finally getting back to normal.”

“Sure seems like it.” Again, the dull roar of the crowd milling around the stadium registers with you. You turn in your seat, mentally counting the large number of people just in your section.  “There are so many people here, a ton more than I thought there would be.”

“I read something last week that said they’re on track to double their attendance from last year.” His gaze settles across the field, though he’s definitely not paying attention to the activity. “I guess watching baseball doesn’t really feel like a guilty pleasure anymore. People can really enjoy the game again rather than always thinking about the worst thing that could happen.”

Before you can respond, the crowd shuffles to their feet for the national anthem and the reading of the rosters before the teams take the field, Dodgers in their gray and blue home uniforms on the field, the Cardinals in brilliant red and white jerseys at bat. The game begins amid the encouragement of the crowd.

Minutes into the game the Cardinals already scored two runs, to which the Dodgers responded with their own two runs during their share of the inning. The spectators were raucous, booing St. Louis’ success and losing their minds in excitement for their home team. It was easy to get caught up in the fervor of taking every play, every out seriously. 

You tried not to be obvious about it, but you couldn’t stop watching Bucky. In an environment that by all means should be chaotic, triggering, and at the very least, bothersome, he couldn’t be more at home. His posture is nonchalant even in the cramped space; an arm tucked across the back of your seat, legs spread comfortably. You couldn’t remember a time in your short relationship when he’d been this chatty.

That’s when it strikes you that Bucky is completely in his element. This crowd, these noises, this environment - they weren’t sudden or jarring to him like they were to you. It was familiar. Homey, even. So far he’d only shared fond memories of the place; but even he could admit that it wasn’t the fanciest park in the world. Your heart swells at the easiness of his tone, the confidence in his speech. He looked truly like himself; like a much-younger, carefree Bucky. You loved it.

As if he can feel your eyes on him, Bucky leans into you further before clearing his throat. “Did I ever tell you about the game Steve and I saw in ‘41?”

At the shaking of your head, he continues. “Five years ago, we were here for a game against Philadelphia. The crowd was restless because the Phillies had just tied up the game. Pete Reiser, our left-fielder,” Bucky points out the outfielder closest to your seats, who was poised on his toes, ready to head in whichever direction the ball headed. “He was up to bat. Now, the Phillies’ pitcher had hit Reiser with a pitch just the month before, almost caused a fight on the field. Anyway, our bases are loaded, and all we’ve got is this 22 year old who is barely out of his rookie season.”

A spark ignites in Bucky’s eyes as he mimics a swing, “Next pitch, Pete puts everything into his swing - sends the ball sailing right over the outfields’ heads. All the runners that were on base scored. Reiser wasn’t the fastest of the bunch but I’m telling you, he was flying like a bat out of hell. His coach on third base waved for him to keep running for home. The outfielder finally gets the ball into the infield, the infield throws the ball home. . . Pete hit the ground for a slide - and he scored.” 

Bucky’s animated antics had you smiling, completely enraptured with his story. “An in-the-park grand slam, the first one I had ever seen - hell, the first one almost anyone had ever seen; it hardly ever happens. You should’ve heard it in here, it was at least 10 times louder than it is right now. I thought we were going to bring the stadium down with how loud we were screaming.” A grin takes up his entire countenance before he lets out a laugh. “I remember Steve got into a really bad coughing fit right after, he almost turned blue. He couldn’t breathe for shit, but he sure was noisy.”

You both dissolve into giggles, mostly due to you imagining poor Steve hacking up a lung while Bucky watches on with a laugh. Surely there couldn’t be a much clearer picture of their friendship.

Moments after the Dodgers score yet again, Bucky shouts out to a man walking up and down the stadium stairs, yelling something about food. “Can I get two boxes of Cracker Jacks?” Coins are flipped and boxes are tossed, and before you know it you’re both ripping into your respective packages. “What toy did you get?” he asks as he scrounges to the bottom of his carton.

You pull out a small plastic figurine, brilliantly blue. “How appropriate, a baseball player swinging a bat. What’d you get?”

Bucky finally manages to get his hands on the prize. “A. . . bright orange cowboy? Come on, I wanted a Dodger player too!” Not being able to stop your bark of laughter at his childish whine, you pluck the toy from his fingers and replace it with your own.

“There, you happy?”

“Well now you’re stuck with the dumb cowboy,” he quips, winking gratefully as he pockets the prize before grabbing a handful of the treat. “I owe you one.”

“I think I’ll survive, thanks.” You dig into your own snack, the caramel crunch delightful after your salty meal. “How’re your courses coming along?”

“Tough, but good. Really getting to the meat of it now. Feel like I spend almost all my time studying.”

“I’m proud of you, Bucky.”

He turns from the game, wrinkles around his eyes softening ever-so-slightly. “Thanks, doll.”

“Back at your apartment Steve mentioned you were still washing windows. That true?”

“Mhmm,” he hums noncommittally.

“Why? Is your monthly stipend not enough?”

He only shrugs and says, “It’s familiar.” Focusing on the game again, he joins the crowd in yelling at an umpire who made an apparently questionable call.

And there was that wall of his. A wall you wanted to push against with all your strength, asking every question that ran through your mind. But he clearly didn’t want to talk about it. And it wasn’t your place to force them down either. So you pop another handful of crackerjacks into your mouth and crunch away.

Three outs are reached and all of a sudden the entire audience stands to their feet as the announcer proclaims it’s time for the “Seventh Inning Stretch”. 

“Wait,” you say as Bucky stands to his feet. He stares down at you, seeming confused as to why you’re still sitting. “People actually do a seventh inning stretch?”

“Well. . . yeah.”

“Don’t look at me like that, it’s my first game!”

He tries - and fails - to smother a laugh. “Yes, the seventh inning stretch is real. We’ve been sitting for,” he checks his watch, “almost two hours now in a cramped space. Plus we sing songs, it’s fun.”

Your nose wrinkles in suspicion. “That sounds made up.”

“I promise!” another laugh escapes him. “Come on, stretch with me.”

Looking around to make sure Bucky wasn’t trying to publicly humiliate you, you do indeed find almost everyone standing and shuffling around in some fashion. You mirror Bucky as he stretches his arms to the sky while standing on his tiptoes, followed by rolling his shoulders and shifting his weight from foot to foot. As you open your mouth to confront him about his blatant lie of singing, rousing organ music blares over the speakers attached to the balconies.

You almost jump out of your skin, grabbing onto Bucky’s arm tightly. He only offers a smirk as he joins in with an obnoxious amount of gusto to ‘Take Me Out to the Ball Game”.

Except he saw it fitting to add on his own commentary.

“Take me out to the ball game -- you’re welcome, I already did. Take me out with the crowd. Buy me some peanuts and crackerjacks - again, you’re welcome. I don’t care if I never get back - you will get back, don’t worry. Let me root, root, root for the -” and then the entire stadium screams, “DODGERS! If we don’t win it’s a shame - we will.

For it’s ONE! TWO! THREE! strikes you’re out at the oooold baaaaall gaaaame!”

Again, the crowd is cheering and you feel a bit like 30,000 people were playing a joke on you. Was this actually a tradition? Bucky insisted it was.

The next inning is fairly quiet; the majority of the gameplay sticking to home plate in the ongoing duel between pitcher and batter. You settle back into your seat, mind wandering for a moment before you realize that Bucky had fallen silent in the past few minutes. Turning to ask a question, it dies on your lips as you take in his state. His thumb is rubbing against the tips of his other fingers constantly, his foot tapping a steady beat beneath him. You’re fairly certain if he keeps biting his lip like that he’s going to draw blood.

Everything in you wants to ask what’s wrong, what had changed, what you can do to help.

But maybe that’s not what he needs right now.

Instead, you place your hand over his fidgety one, squeezing his fingers tightly. His head swings to you. Releasing his lip from between his teeth he takes a deep breath before making a terrifying statement.

“I, uh. . . wanted to ask you something.”

The bustle of the crowd fades away. The yelling, the taunting, the outraged fans, all fall on deaf ears. In this moment, your focus zeroes in on him - eyes latching onto his icy blue ones, the knit of his brow causing your stomach to flip.

“Okay. Ask away.”

I’ve gotten really good at faking being calm.

“I know this is a lot to ask, but you’ve become very important to me.” He pauses, further prolonging your terror. “Would you wanna meet my family soon?” His thumb is rubbing across the top of your hand, squeezing ever so slightly.

A smile that is equal parts relieved and thrilled makes its way to your face. “You want me to meet your family?”

He casts his eyes down, still playing with your fingers. “If that’s somethin’ you want. I know everyone at once could be overwhelming, maybe instead we could have dinner with just Becca first?”

“Bucky.” Finally looking at you again, you do everything in your power to show him just how sincere you really are. “I would love to come.”

He gives you a disbelieving smile in return, cocking his head as he asks, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod, feeling heat in your cheeks that had nothing to do with the sweltering temperature.

“Okay,” he sighs, lifting his hat with his other hand to run fingers through his hair. “We do dinner together every Sunday night. Dad’ll be out of town on business until Wednesday so it’ll just be us and the girls. That okay?”

“It’s more than okay. I’m really, really excited to meet everyone.”

Neither of you realize that you’d been lost gazing at each other adoringly until the crowd erupts, everyone leaping to their feet as Pee Wee Reese hits the ball, allowing his teammate on third base to score a run. But all Bucky does is bring the hand holding his up to his mouth and places a gentle kiss to your knuckles, eyes locked on yours. His action knocks loose the feelings and memories from your first date all those months ago when he’d done the exact same thing.

The game ends in a Dodgers victory, prompting a whooping cheer and applause from the crowd. As you shuffle out of the park along with the rest of the patrons - like content cattle, Bucky jokes - an ominous boom floats down from the heavens.

“Sounds like it may rain. Let’s stop by my apartment to grab an umbrella before we get you home.”

You’d long since learned that Bucky walking you home after spending time together was a non-negotiable. No matter your arguments the night always ended with Bucky kissing you goodnight on your doorstep and whistling a tune down the street. Could you easily hop on the subway by yourself and be home at a much more efficient time? Yes. Were you upset about the additional time spent with your window washer? Mmm, you really couldn’t say no.

The pair of you climb up the steps to his apartment, his keys jingling in his hand when you hear raised voices coming from behind his front door. Bucky’s eyebrows pull together, looking utterly confused as worry bubbles in your chest.

Framing the door you both lean in, now able to clearly make out Steve’s low and Peggy’s clipped tones.

“Uh-oh,” Bucky mutters. You tilt your head in question. “Something big has been brewing at work. I’m guessing this has something to do with it.”

Initially you’d laughed when Bucky had admitted that Peggy and Steve worked for a lesser-known, semi-covert government agency - SRS? SRR? Something like that. The same people who had been responsible for making Steve into Captain America, is what you’d gleaned from his vague explanation. Connie had actually been right about it and you owed her an apology drink.

You couldn’t help but be grateful that Bucky hadn’t chosen that line of work; you didn’t think you could handle him dealing with the bizarre and unexplainable happenings throughout the world and not worry about his well being every second of every day.

Bucky shifts to turn the doorknob when your hand flies to his, your head shaking vehemently.

“The umbrella is just inside the door, they’ll have no idea I was even here,” he assures. Reluctantly you remove your hand, allowing Bucky to crack the door open. Muffled voices turn into clear words as Peggy and Steve disagree - rather loudly.

“By all means, fly out on a mission tonight if that’s what you really want.” Steve’s sarcasm cuts deep - and you aren’t even on the receiving end.

“God, can you get it through your thick skull that I’m doing what I have to do? That I’ve been given orders?” You could hear the barely-checked rage seething from Peggy as Bucky slides through the narrow opening he’d allowed himself.

Steve scoffs, “Orders? You really wanna tell me - you demanded they let you in on this!”

“Even if I did, what gives you the right to tell me I shouldn’t go? Because they told you ‘no’? Because you don’t think I’m capable of doing this?”

“You know me better than that. Of course I know you’re capable.”

“Then what could it possibly be?”

“When we were overseas, I always had you as backup. You always had me. And I don’t trust any of those fucking idiots to have your back over there.”

“I don’t need to be saved, Steven!”

“That’s not what I’m-”

Bucky appears in the doorway again with the umbrella in tow, though he’s more focused on the ongoing bickering than closing the door.

You’d missed a few lines back and forth by the time Bucky is back at your side, both of you pressing against the door to hear.

Peggy’s voice comes through slightly softer. “You need to trust me when I tell you that in the moment they will do what needs to be done.”

“Can you be sure of that? You know that I respect you, that I know you are worth 10 other agents. But do they?”

Bucky pulls the door closed, breathing deeply. “Well. That’s gonna be fun to hear about when I get home.”

You raise a brow when Bucky offers his arm to help you down the staircase. “You really think he’ll be in the sharing mood?”

“Trust me,” he gives an ungraceful snort, “He’ll probably keep me up all night with his dumb puppy-dog eyes and moping.”

“Steve, moping?” you ask with a giggle.

As you emerge back onto the busy New York street, Bucky unfurls the umbrella against the soft pitter-patter of rain. He gives you a sidelong glance before muttering, “You have no idea.”

Chapter Twelve

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[its-flicked-switch]

The One They Deserved

3.5K | William Arc | The Story We Deserved | Post-MS4

William emerges from the harbor.

I know I can't be the only fan out there who was deeply disappointed by how William's character arc was handled in S11! So, for those of you on team #notmyWilliam, stick with me — I got you. 

—

"And maybe what growing up really means is knowing that you don't have to be just a character, going whichever way the story says. It's knowing you could be the author instead."

― Ava Dellaira, Love Letters to the Dead

—

JACKSON

Returning to Wyoming was a decision made on a whim — an instinctual impulse. Because when battered and broken, animal instinct predominates, driving the incessant urge to return to a place of comfort and security.

When Jackson emerged from the harbor, he knew he needed to seek refuge somewhere far removed from Virginia. Returning to the place where it all began just seemed fitting somehow. Poetic almost. For the beginning was also the end.

Of all the places he has lived over the course of the last seventeen years, this is the only place Jackson has ever considered to be home. As he crouches down in the tall grass behind his former home, he becomes enthralled with how quickly and slowly time can pass in the same instance. Saying goodbye to his childhood home seems like something that happened a lifetime ago to someone else, yet it happened only yesterday, and it's strikingly familiar.

Having risen from the dead once before, he knows that not finding his body in the harbor will put his pursuers on edge. Only a fool would accept his death as fact without a body at this point, and those who pursue him are not fools. With that being said, coming here was a risk, but his lack of confidence in his ability to manipulate video feed and hide his identity in larger crowds kept him from attending his parents' funeral.

As a child, he always dreaded attending funerals, oftentimes begging to stay home or to sit outside because he found them to be too unbearably sad and uncomfortable. But now, having been kept from attending the funerals of those closest to him, he has a greater appreciation for their purpose. Funerals aren't for the dead. They are for the living. He understands that now.

The circumstances surrounding their deaths prevented him from seeing their bodies. He wasn't there to watch their caskets being lowered into the ground, nor was he ever able to return to their home in Virginia, where he would have certainly been faced with blood-spattered walls and silence. Any or all of those things would have helped to ground him into the reality that they were really gone, and that he would never see them again. Ultimately, that is what he hoped to gain by coming here — closure. But as he settles in the tall grass behind his childhood home, all he feels is sorrow.

The Van De Kamps' former home hasn't changed all that much in their absence. The new owners have painted, changed up the landscaping, and added on a garage, but overall, the rustic farmhouse where he spent the first twelve years of his life has remained relatively untouched by the passage of time.

Jackson wishes he could say the same.

His early childhood was happy, carefree, and uncomplicated. Although they didn't live in a standard neighborhood, other families lived within a reasonable walking distance. The Brooks family, who owned the land adjacent to theirs, had two boys around his age — Ben and Zak. The three of them spent nearly every waking hour together in the summers. Collectively, their families owned a little over 6,000 acres of land, which, in turn, gave them quite a bit of terrain to roam and raise the kind of hell that only little boys are capable of concocting. Their more notable transgressions included but were not limited to: hitting a baseball into a busy highway where it shattered the back window of a brand new four-door Chevy pickup, a magnifying glass mishap that escalated into the incidental burning of an entire wheat field, and poking a hibernating bear. Yes. You heard right. Poking an actual bear. Suffice it to say, the old saying 'don't poke the bear' holds an entirely different meaning to him now than it did before.

Poking of bears aside, the majority of his childhood, although interesting at times, was fairly unremarkable — until the day that it wasn't.

He was nine when it started.

Phase one came in the form of nightmares. Intense night terrors that propelled him out of his bed and sent him screaming into the night. Twice his parents found him in fields behind their home staring up into the sky with his heart racing, clothes soaked with sweat, and tears streaming down his face. When it occurred a second time, they installed latches at the top of all of the exterior doors, in fear that he would end up in the middle of the highway or in one of their irrigation wells before they could wake and calm him.

The doctors had assured his parents that it was only a phase, but when weeks turned into months and months turned into a year, it became apparent that what he was experiencing was more than just a phase. The drugs the doctors prescribed were successful in sedating him, but they did not curve the frequency, intensity, duration, or nature of his dreams.

Phase two began shortly after his tenth birthday. His hair and eyes had always been fair, but in January of 2011, he woke up to the reflection of a boy he didn't recognize. His blue eyes and sandy brown hair had disappeared overnight, transitioning into a deep charcoal brown. Nobody in the medical community had ever seen anything like it, nor could they explain how or why it had occurred. Test after test confirmed that he was healthy and otherwise unaffected, but a sense of unease filled their home nonetheless.

The night terrors and physical transformation each snapped something within him, unraveling him into a child no one recognized. Within a year, he transitioned from being the light-hearted, jokester with lots of friends into a fearful, shy, and awkward isolationist. It was as if he was a completely different person altogether — mentally and physically. The friendships he had developed within the first ten years of his life slowly dissolved. One by one, they all eased away until there was no one left. Then the bullying began.

First came the inquisitive stares and whispers, which were quickly followed by finely pointed questions that only rude children ask.

"What are you? Some kind of alien?"

It was fairly common knowledge that he was adopted, which only served to make matters worse.

"Jack wasn't born, he was hatched. That's why he can change his coloring like an iguana. What color will you make your hair and eyes tomorrow — Jack?"

"I hear that he hangs out in the fields a lot. He's probably waiting for the mothership."

The digs were endless, and he didn't cope with any of it well. At first, he cried a lot, but he learned very quickly that ten-year-old boys can't cry on playgrounds. Witnessed tears added a whole new layer to his misery. It was if he had opened Pandora's Box to hell.

Jerry Marriott was the worst of the bunch. He coined the name Alien Jack — AJ for short, and it stuck. Soon, nobody other than the teachers called him by his given name.

Thankfully, summer arrived, providing him with a much-needed reprieve from hell.

His parents had hoped that the summer would bring Ben and Zak back, but it didn't. When he wasn't helping his father on the farm, he would walk through the fields alone, which troubled his parents far more than it ever bothered him. The silence was far more favorable than the alternative. School had taught him that much.

Midsummer, his father returned home from an errand with a large box. Since it was the first time he had seen either of his parents genuinely smile in weeks, he knew immediately that whatever was in the mystery box was a much bigger deal than the new dirt bike they had given him for his birthday. They had been placating him for weeks. Making special meals, renting extra movies and video games …any and everything they could think of to try to lift the depressive fog that hung over him. But that day had been different, their smiles were confident and infectious, and when he opened the box, he understood why.

Inside the box was a small wiggling ball of energy. A chocolate lab puppy with large animated brown eyes and tan tipped paws. To this day, Jackson still refers to that moment as being the happiest moment of his life.

He named him Abe, after Abraham Lincoln, because he ended the period of misery and loneliness that had enslaved him by offering him true and unbridled friendship. For the first time in over a year, Jackson looked forward to getting up in the morning. His mood and overall outlook brightened considerably.

His mother's allergies had always prevented them from having pets, which was why Abe's sudden appearance had come as such a surprise. After his arrival, new kleenex boxes appeared in nearly every room. Her congestion and sneezing fits worsened as Abe aged, but she never once complained. Jackson never really thanked her enough for that. Kids are kind of assholes in that respect. They don't truly grasp the meaning of sacrifice.

Unfortunately, for his family, itchy, watery eyes, and nasal congestion would be on the low end of the totem pole in comparison to the sacrifices that would lie ahead.

Phase three was the most troubling for everyone except him. For him, phase three was the glorious redemption that typically only exists in a bullied preteen's dreams. It began with an excruciating headache and a low-grade fever that kept him in bed for nearly three days. When it waned, the world was different. He's since been asked by numerous medical and mental health professionals to describe it, and the best analogy he has been able to come up with is hibernation. When he woke up on that third day, he felt as if he had woken up for the very first time.

Initially, the difference was subtle — something he could sense but not entirely identify. As the days passed, however, the subtlety faded, and the awareness that he possessed unnatural abilities became more and more apparent. For example, he could gain access to people's innermost thoughts, secrets, and fears by merely making eye contact with them or by being in close proximity to them. He wouldn't call it mind-reading per se, because the information was far too pointed to be ramblings of the mind. No whispers, no visions… just infinite knowledge that would appear in his mind as if it had always been there. He would just know.

Ten-year-old boys aren't the coyest creatures on the planet, and Jackson had been no exception.

Returning to school following his summer reprieve had been difficult. The only thing that got him through each day was the knowledge that Abe would be sitting at the bus stop waiting for him, so the timing of his mysterious illness couldn't have been better… or worse, depending upon your perspective.

His ability to obtain sensitive information was a game-changer. As it turned out, Jerry Marriott had an irrational fear of clowns, slept with a night light and stuffed elephant named 'Snuffy,' and hated the father who abandoned him and his mother to go live with his boyfriend in Nevada.

It was at this juncture that Jackson's name transitioned from being Alien Jack to Alien Jackass.

While his tactics didn't win him any humanitarian of the year awards, it leveled the playing field and facilitated camaraderie. Jackson wasn't Jerry's only target. Lewis Weedin and Jessy Scott were also victims of Jerry's unrelenting treachery. Lewis ate every booger he could find, and Jessy rarely bathed properly, but they were both kind, troubled souls whose home lives were miserable. They made an awkward trio and didn't have a tremendous amount in common aside from their mutual hatred for Jerry. But the knowledge that Jessy's stepfather molested him and that Lewis's mother was a worthless drunk made Jackson all that much more determined to make their time at school more tolerable — and he did.

Exploitation worked for awhile. Instead of calling him names, tripping him in the halls, and smashing his lunch, his peers gave him a wide berth.

What Jackson hadn't anticipated was Jerry's resolve. Revealing Jerry's deepest secrets had taken the terror level down a few notches and given Jackson some breathing room, but beneath Jerry's seemingly calm and avoidant exterior, he was seething and biding his time. Alien Jack was child's play. Teasing him about being an alien, from Jerry's perspective, had always been just that — teasing. All in good fun.

Jerry kept his distance for months, leading Jackson to believe that it was over. It wasn't until Jerry ended up on his bus buddied up with Ben and Zak that he knew something was amiss, and he wasn't wrong.

It started as soon as the bus pulled away.

Abe had been waiting for him in his usual place with his body wiggling from head to toe in anticipation as the bus stopped.

"Nice dog, jackass."

Having already weaponized all the intel he had gathered from Jerry's psyche, there was little left for him to say that hadn't already been broadcasted. Ben and Zak remained silent at Jerry's side but looked rather pleased with themselves for acquiring a new and powerful friend. Abe, oblivious to their tone and intentions, had approached him with his typical after school enthusiasm — wiggling, jumping, and nudging along his side to be petted.

Jackson considered telling Jerry to bug off but thought better of it since he was still a good ten minutes away from home and outnumbered three to one. So instead of commenting, he regarded the three of them as if they were cockroaches and turned to walk away.

Neither he nor Abe saw the rock coming.

The jagged, medium-sized rock struck Abe in his hindquarters, causing him to stumble and yelp. The hurt, confused, and terrified look in Abe's sweet, gentle eyes filled Jackson with a sense of rage that he had never experienced before. And turning to find their snide, taunting smiles and hands filled with rocks only served to intensify that rage.

As he watched them chuckle and tauntingly toss the rocks up into the air, an eerie calm settled over him. In that moment, Jackson felt a lot of things but fear was not one of them.

"Time to see how fast you and your friend can run, jackass," Jerry said, giving Ben and Zak a slight nod before arching to hurl the second rock.

Abe, at this point, was no longer oblivious to their intentions and had begun to growl, but it didn't matter. Before the rock could leave Jerry's hand, he hit the ground — hard.

Ben and Zak immediately dropped their rocks and ran away in terror, leaving Jerry to gasp, sputter, and writhe around in the gravel along the side of the road alone.

Without batting an eye or taking a step in his direction, Jackson had sent Jerry hurling backward with such force that it knocked the wind out of him and broke three of his ribs.

"No," Jackson told him as he moved to stand over him, "you are the one who is going to run."

And Jerry did.

The jagged rock left a gash on Abe's hindquarters right along his hip that required several stitches. But true to his nature, Abe remained standing, wagging his tail and licking Jackson in the face as he knelt down, removed a layer of clothing, and cleaned up the wound as best he could before walking them both home.

The events that followed the bus stop brawl changed all of their lives forever. Within a year, Abe was gone, and his parents were forced to sell their farm, farmhouse, and a good portion of their possessions to avoid bankruptcy.

As he watches the sunset over the top of the trees, Jackson knows he has to get moving. He's already stayed longer than he intended, but it's taken more time than he anticipated to gather the courage to visit the very spot he traveled all this way to see. Rising from his obscured position in the tall grass along the tree line, he makes his way deeper into the woods that line the south side of the property.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he approaches the clearing where he and his father had laid his one and only true friend to rest. Getting down on his hands and knees, Jackson brushes aside layers of leaves until he finds the flat stone that marks Abe's resting place.

Abe was a true light. The year he spent with Abe was the happiest time of his life. Abe's eyes had always been gentle, loving, and hungry for adventure. Even after all of this time, Jackson can still feel the coldness of his nose, the sloppiness of his kisses, and the sharpness of his toenails. It's been nearly six years, but the emptiness, sorrow, and furry that filled him following Abe's death has never truly waned.

He doesn't stop the tears that stream down his face as he traces the outline of Abe's name chiseled into the stone. His tears aren't for just Abe. He can feel his parents here too. Abe's death took something out of all of them. It was like being struck by lightning: nothing was the same afterward.

In the years that followed their move, he allowed vengeance to drive and shape him, destroying everyone and everything around him. Being powerful is cool, until the day that it isn't. Now, as he kneels in half-frozen leaves overlooking a grave, he realizes that the one ability he longs for the most is one that he doesn't possess. He can't turn back time. If he could, he would rewind to the day he lost Abe with the knowledge that he has today. If he could do that, he wouldn't be kneeling over Abe's grave in the forest. He would be sitting at the kitchen table inside their farmhouse ordering graduation invitations with Abe snoring at his feet.

At the times of their deaths, he wasn't who they deserved.

Now, all that is left of them in this world are their graves and the imprints they've left on him.

His parents had been sweet, gentle, and loving people, who despite everything, never once resented him. They gave him everything they had, and in return, all he had given them was trouble and heartache. And Abe… Abe was just Abe. Always loving. Always happy. Always looking to him to lead, because where Jackson was — was exactly where Abe wanted to be.

Wiping at his tears, he makes a promise to each of them, one he should have made years ago. From this day forward, he's going to be the one they deserved. They may be gone, but they will not be lost for their imprints will now fall on him.

Moving the leaves back to cover Abe's resting place, Jackson blankets his one and only true friend with as much warmth as the environment will allow, comforted by the fact that he will no longer be buried there alone.

:

Moonlight guides him alongside the highway. The night is silent except for the distinct jingle of tags and clicking of nails against the asphalt. Should somebody happen upon him tonight, they will find a quick friend in a lively chocolate lab with tan tipped paws, a green collar, soulful eyes, and a smile that begs for adventure. What they won't see is a troubled teenage boy or a monster.

Cloaked in a true spirit of light, William heads due south in search of the man who is referred to in his visions only as Praise.

:

AN: This is a chapter from a larger work you find here. 

I'm not going to lie, this was an emotional chapter for me to write. In S11, we were introduced to a young man who was insanely powerful and a bit of an asshole. After 18 years of buildup, I expected more and was devastated that we didn't get it, which is why I made the decision to write a more William-centered story. His arc was important to me. There was a story there that wasn't told, and I'm determined to tell it. For those of you here strictly for the MSR, don't fret... without Mulder and Scully there are no X Files ;)

And, as always, a HUGE thank you to my betas @kikocrystalball​, @admiralty-xfd​, and @suilven19​ for their edits and encouragement… because nobody gets there alone ;)

[andrcs]

hey  friends  waddup  !  i’m  jen  ,  just  turned  23  (  n  am  already  feelin  it  )  ,  from  the  gmt-2  tmz  ,  n  i  go  by  she/her  pronouns  .  i  had  about  ,  like  ,  half  an  hour  of  sleep  today n  i’m  actually  redoing  this  entire  intro  because  as   i  was  editing  the  finished  version  to  post  it  ,  i  accidentally  deleted  the  whole  thing  n  tumblr  wouldnt  let  me  have  it  back !  it’s  fine  i’m  fine   :-)  anywho  i’m  gonna  let  yall  go  n  learn a  lil  more  about  our  friend  andre !  hopefully  u  like  him  but  if  u  don’t  thats  ok  bc  sometimes i don’t  either !!

𝐈.    𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐒  :

𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞   :   andre  harris  solomon  .

𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞   :   n/a  .

𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲   :   august  fourth  ,  1991  .

𝐳𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧   :   leo  .

𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧   :  cco  of  solo  conglomerate  .

𝐈𝐈.   𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃  :

during  the  solomon’s  dynasty  ,   the  family  had  its  fair  share  of  tumbles  and  quite  a  few  scandals  .  great  uncle  abel being  arrested  after  trying  to  steal  half  his  brother’s  fortune  was  one   was  a  big  example .  may  god  bless  the traitous  bastard’s  soul  .  also  cousin  denzel  ,  declaring   in  the  middle  of  thanksgiving  dinner  he  wanted  to  be  a  opera  singer  ,  of  all  fucking  things  ,  and  giving grandpa  harrison  an  almost  stroke  ,  could  be  counted  .  no  matter  what  ,  though  ,  nothing  prepared  the  family  to  watch  the  solomon  fortune’s  heiress  coming  home  on  her  christmas  break  during  her  freshman  year  in  college  with  a  baby  bump  and  no  father  to  claim  the  child  she  carried  . 

in  the  following  years  ,  with  the  slightly  judgemental  help  of  all  of  her  closest  relatives  ,  but  most  of  all  ,  the  never  ending  support  of  her  parents  ,  gaia  solomon  managed  not  only  to  get  her  college  diploma  ,  enter  the  family  business   and  help  solo  grow  into  the  biggest  media  conglomerate  of  the  western  hemisphere  ,  one  that  had  a  solid  hand  over  pretty  much  all  aspects  of  media  and  entertainment  .  chances  are  if  you  wanted  to  publish  or  sign  a  record  label  deal  or  be  on  a  tv  show  ,  sooner  or  later  you  would  encounter  someone  from  solo  .  but   she  had  also  manage  to  raise  with  the  utmost  love  and  care  ,  no  lack  of  sacrifices  ,  and  a  healthy  amount  of  ear-pulling  ,  a  man  she  can’t  help  to  be  most  proud  of  .

andre  solomon  never  knew  who  his  father  was  ,  or  cared  to .  and  as  far  as  his  mother  was  concerned  ,  he  didn’t  have  a  father .  as  a  child  ,  he  never  felt  like  he  was  missing  anything  in  life  ,  there  was  no  angry  void  aching  to  be  filled  ,  no  painful  moments  to  remember  his  childhood  by  .  he  had  been  happy .   no  matter  how  busy  his  mom  was  ,  she  was  always  loving  and  attentive  whenever she  was  around  ,  played  baseball and  football  and  soccer  with  him  whenever  he  asked  her  to  ,  and  grandpa  harrison  was  always  available  if  the  boy  ever  needed  a  guy  figure  in  his  life .  of  course  ,  there  were  some  bumps  and  bruises  along  the  way  ,  and  a  pinky  finger  he  never  fully  got  the  feeling  back  , but  it  was  a  beautiful  ,  fulfilling  childhood  .

as  a  teenager  ,  recently  acquainted  with  a  never  seen  before  freedom  ,  and  just  out  of  puberty  ,  andre  grew  more  acquainted  with  getting  in  trouble  .  thankfully  ,  nothing  like  cousin  gina  , who  had  to  cut  off  a  part  of  her  ear  after  piercing  it  by  herself  with  her  tenth  grade  friends  .  while  rambunctious  and  mischievous  ,  he  was  always  to  smart  to  get  caught  doing  something  that  could  get  him  in  any  kind  of  real  trouble  ,  and  by  then  ,  the  family  knew  that  they  could  trust  andre  to  not  be  too  irresponsible  ,  and  even  if  they  didn’t  ,  at  least  he  had  both  ears  intact  .

 a  full  grown  adult  ,  after  getting  his  marketing  degree in  northwestern  university  ,  andre  followed  his  mother’s  footsteps  and  worked  hard  to  climb  the  organizational   ladder  and  reach  the  cco  position ,  becoming  one  of  his  grandfather’s   valued  advisors  along  the  way  .  these  days  ,  he  works  hard  to  keep  his  image  clean  and  his  professional  life  very  well  separated  from  his  private  one  ,  being  very  succesful  at  it  thus  far  .

𝐈𝐈𝐈.   𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘  :

andre can  definitely  be  considered  a  little bit   too  cocky  in  his  confidence  .  he  knows  his  strengths  and  doesn’t  believe  in  fake  humility  ,  always  eager  to  be  praised  by  whatever  actions  .  also  very  focused  ,  he  feels  as  if  he  knows  exactly  what  he  deserves  in  all  aspects  of  his  life  ,  and  doesn’t  hesitate  to  work  for  it  until  he’s  satisfied .

he  is also  ,  however  ,  a  very  fun  loving  individual  .  andre  believes  in  the  motto  work  hard  ,  play  hard  .  and  you  can  definitely  find  him  going  on  expensive  trips  to  exotic  locations  or   some  rich  person  adventure  more  often  that  he’d  like  to  admit  .  is  constantly  surrounded  by  a-list  celebrities  or  clout  chasers  who  attach  to  him  due  to  his  connections  into  the  industry  .  and  as  being  the   center  of  attention   is  one  of  his  favorite  things  ,  he  absolutely  adores  it  .

very  ,   extremely  sarcastic  and  definitely  not  the  most  outwardly  affectionate  person  ,  it  takes  a  lot  to  get  him  to  soften  up   ,   but  andre’s  also  extremely  loyal  to  those  he  knows  are  his  real  friends ,  and  always  makes  sure  that  they  are  with  him  no  matter  where  he  goes  and  what  he  gets  .

is  known  to  be  quite  the  ladies’  man  ,  and  often  lives  up  to  the  reputation  ,  even  though  he’s  settled  down  quite  happily  a  few  times  during  his  adulthood  .  he’s  not  averse  to  relationships ,  per say  ,  but  also  doesnt  want  to  jump  in  carelessly  ,  specially  when  he’s  not  felling  the  situation  .  is  frequently  engaged  in  some  sort  of  drama  with  the  girls  in  his  life  and  even  though  he  claims  to  dislike  it  ,  he  loves  all the  attention  he  gets  from  them  ( ew , i  hate  him  ,  he’s  gross  )

𝐈𝐕.   𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒  :

childhood  best  friend  /  chicago  native  ( 1 / 2 )  :  people  who’ve  known  him  since  before  he  hit  puberty  and  became  cool  and  who  are  with  him til  this  very  day  .  they  might  not  be  best  friends  for  whatever  reason  but  still  are  closer than  most  friendships  out  there . ( pearl , )

flings /  could  be  past  or  present  :  could  also  range  from  the  silliest  to  the  most  angsty  stuff  ,  andre  definitely  has  the  repertoire  for  it .

ride  or  dies  (  2 / 6  )  :  truly  ride  or  dies  ,  his  closest  group  of  friends  ,  the  ppl  that  are with  him  no  matter where  he  is  and  the only  people  outside  his  family  he’d  do  whatever for  . ( devin , watson )

exes  /  chicago  native  (  2 /  2  )  :  i  have  some  ideas  about  them  but  lets  just  say  one  would  have  ended  in  decently  good terms  and  one  would  not . ( vera , aurora )

friend  with  interests  (  0 / 2  )  : andre  has  a  lot  of  ins  with  the  media  industry  ,  and  this  person  would  definitely  have  an  ulterior  motive  to  hang  around  him  ,  whether  he’s  realised  it  yet  or  no  .

flirtationship   (  1 / 1  )  : first  of  all  i  hate  that  word  my  GOD  but  also  ,  would  be  a  kind  of  thing  where  they’d  both  be  feeling  each  other  but  for  some  reason  things  just  wouldn’t  progress ? ( elissa )

there is a  lot  more  but  i’ve  just  written  this  thing  twice  in  a  row  n  my  brain  is  currently  just  2  neurons  barely  communicating  so  i  should  probably  quit  while  i’m  ahead  ?  but  pls  message  me  bc  if  u  want  to  know  some  more  about  andre  or  come  up w  plots  or  just  talk  about  how  hot mbj  is   n  how  unfair  it  is  that  the rpc  doesnt  gif  him nearly  enough  ?  or  we  could  also  talk  abt  something  i  might  be  delusional  rn  so  i  have  a bunch  of  interesting  topics  ok  bye  thanks  for  sticking  around i  love uuuu

[minkillah]

hello everyone!! my name’s lua, my pronouns are she/her and i’m a resident of gmt+1. i’m super excited for this group to get rolling so i can write with you all. i play choi minki (kim taehyung) of lotto fame. if you’re interested in interacting with him just ♡ this post and i’ll give you all of my love.

born and raised in busan’s gamcheon village, south korea, the former underground rapper turned ambitious lotto all-rounder has been under marathon entertainment for nine years. winners  know him as the unspoken protector of the group, and his observant nature allows him to encapsulate ideas in his music with a persuasive edge, but he’s at times criticized for being too eccentric and sardonic. 

OVERVIEW

FULL NAME: choi minki

STAGE NAME: MINKI, minkillah (pre-debut/underground)

NICKNAME(S): min, key

GENDER (PRONOUNS): cismale (he/him)

DATE OF BIRTH (AGE): 1994, march 5th. (25)

HOMETOWN: gamcheon village in busan, south korea

RESIDENCE: seoul, south korea

OCCUPATION: lead rapper, vocalist and visual of lotto. 

SEXUALITY: bisexual.

HEIGHT: 181cm

HAIR COLOR: naturally jet black (often dyed for his job, currently dark brown)

EYE COLOR: dark brown

TATTOOS: upper arm white tiger (sleeve tattoo, is a work in progress), roman numeral wrist tattoos (left wrist: lotto debut date / right wrist: his mother's birthday)

PIERCINGS: several in his ears.

SCAR: small childhood scar along his knee from falling on broken glass at the beach.

NOTABLE FEATURES: intense and piercing eyes / long eyelashes / big hands / deep voice / nose, cheek and lip moles / big boxy smile. 

FACE CLAIM: kim taehyung

PERSONALITY

POSITIVE: protective, contemplative, playful, mischievous, ambitious, loyal, soulful, creative, plainspoken, focused, steadfast, sentimental, observant, intuitive, tenacious, passionate, wry.

NEGATIVE: eccentric, sardonic, juvenile, intense, pent-up, stubborn, hard to know, single-minded, competitive, temperamental, moody, untrusting, all-or-nothing.

LIKES: art, music, anything unique, reading long letters from fans, writing, working, poetry, performing, sincerity, intimacy, the sea, candles, mystery, travelling, warm hands, depth, long conversations, feeling connected to someone, driving at night, visiting home, his mother.

DISLIKES: feeling controlled, invasions of privacy, assumptions, loneliness, boredom, shallow conversations, having his trust broken, spinelessness, being lied to, self-victimizing, blowhards, people who don’t keep their word, his father.

HABITS: staying up late to work on music, collecting headbands and baseball caps, chewing gum, bouncing his leg, man-spreading, calling his mom every day, stuffing his hands into his pockets, scribbling lyrics on things he shouldn’t (napkins, his hand), clicking his tongue, quirking his eyebrows, making funny faces to relax, stretching his neck by tilting his head to the side, rolling his shoulders.

FEARS: losing his mom, never being accepted for who he is, resembling his deadbeat dad, the general public finding out his father left their family.

STYLE: streetwear, skatewear, city-ready and modern, comfortable, relaxed fits, a touch of grunge, baseball caps, logo t-shirts, headbands, thick rimmed glasses, black trousers, hoodies, worn buckle-boots, chunky sneakers, retro runners, wide-cut trousers, shirt tuck, pleated pants.

SMOKE? no. 

DRUGS: no.

ALCOHOL: yes.

HEADCANONS

minki’s outer mask of aloofness is a cover for his stormy inner life. he’s always battling between his heart and mind, conscious of how emotions can make him look; sometimes he’s cool and level-headed, and other times he’ll throw his weight around. ultimately he’s emotional and has a great desire for intimacy.  

once he lets his guard down, he’s more than willing to show how much he truly cares for someone. for special someones, he feels a poignant love strong enough to walk through the valley of the shadow of death. when these feelings are hard to verbalize, he expresses them best through action.

the promise of emotional depth and soul-level understanding shines out of his eyes. he’s a good listener, maybe because he’s often listening into the hidden layers of what people are saying. his closest relationships are the equivalent of feeling an overwhelming urge to call someone, only to find they were just about to call you.

in a world of tell-all social media, he’s quite a private person. anyone close to him has to be able to keep secrets. the classified files of his personal history are only ever revealed to those who’ve earned his trust. 

while it can be hard for minki to let others in, he also intensely needs others, and he needs to go deep with them. it’s important for him to have close friends and special someones who are in it with him for the long haul.

he’s got an animal magnetism on stage and knows how to turn it on for the effect of something tender, edgy, soulful or brutal.

prone to jealousy and paranoia and will do anything to hide it. he needs mutual reassurance in relationships, and betrayal of any kind is the death knell for any relationship with him, friendship or otherwise. a true loyalist.

ambitious and will do whatever he needs to attain his goal. he also has a strong competitive characteristic that pushes him to strive for greatness.

drops one-liners and quotables in public that, for good and bad, will follow him until the end of his career. doesn’t seem to get embarrassed even when he misspeaks in interviews and can help dispel tensions at times using poker-faced humor at his own expense.

minki knew next to nothing about fashion or make up prior to joining the company and was shocked to learn stylists saw enough potential in him to appoint him as "visual" of the group. these days he moves with more awareness in regards to how he represents lotto to the public, and sometimes jokes in interviews that his face does all the work.

shockingly good at aegyo despite his image and the intense vibes his face gives off. variety shows used to love asking him to perform cute gestures and whatnot back in the day, but thankfully that doesn't happen as much now that he's older.

sheds not a single tear all year but can be seen full on bawling at the end of annual fanmeetings.

as the third oldest in the group, he’s something of a bridge between the younger members and the oldest members of lotto.

that big goofy rectangle grin makes him look like a different person when he smiles.

one of the members most likely to slip into satoori.

plays the piano; currently learning guitar.

RELATIONSHIPS

MOTHER: choi misun (52), a writer and local artist in gamcheon culture village. 

FATHER: doesn’t know his father. 

SIBLINGS: none. 

OTHER RELATIVES: they’re rarely in touch. 

PETS: none. loves & wants pets of his own, but worries he won’t be able to care for a living thing. dotes on other people’s animals instead.

LOVERS: single.

HISTORY

CHILDHOOD

when minki was born, his mom decided the only thing scarier than being a single mother was not being a mother at all. her ex-boyfriend, minki's dad, denied the child was his and refused to support her decision to keep him. her parents begged her to give the boy for adoption, threatening to disown her, but it was too late: looking into her son’s eyes she felt certain, more than she’d been of anything, that he wasn’t a mistake. he was her miracle. she would raise him alone, an unwanted mother and the black sheep of her family.  

relatives gathering for holidays didn’t want the two of them attending, and neighbors were told made-up stories of a husband passing away, all to protect the family’s reputation. for some time, minki was too young to notice anyone’s absence: it’d always been just him and his mother and he didn’t know of anything different. this changed as he grew up and was confronted with the lack of a father figure in his life - or grandparents, aunts and cousins.

he became painfully aware of his mother’s struggles. her writing and art wasn’t enough to support them, and she worked too hard for most of her life, taking on several labor-intensive jobs to feed and clothe him. theirs was a humble but colorful life in the poor seaside village of gamcheon, located in the coastal city of busan.

at the epicenter of art, beauty and chaos, minki spent his childhood running through steep slopes and tiny alleys nestled between a mishmash of pastel-colored houses, a deep blue sky and ocean in the background. he was often alone, as all throughout school, there were classmates whose mothers instructed them not to play with him, or would tease him for not having a father. 

birds of a feather flock together. minki found friendship in the company of children who either seemed different, outcasts just like him, or those who accepted him and didn’t care about rumors and social status. his best friend was a neighboring child of an eclectic couple of local artists and acquaintances of his mother.

in his early teens, there was anger and hurt simmering beneath minki’s exterior. he was at an emotionally painful passage of his life and wanted to act out, but knew that it would break his mother’s heart if anything ever happened to him. not wanting to hurt her the way his father had hurt her, minki turned to art as an outlet for destructive thoughts, and music became his way of dealing with the sense of chronic loss.

hip-hop was raw, emotional and honest. it was a device in and of itself, a friend to play with.  twotime had a huge influence on minki as a teenager, and inspired him to start writing songs when he was 14 years old. thanks to the democratization of music through the internet, he found a way to pirate software and started producing beats in his bedroom.

CAREER

he was active in busan’s underground hip hop scene during high school, competing in rap battles under the name minkillah. it wasn’t only his rapping that garnered attention; minki eventually began establishing himself as an emerging  producer, composing beats for local talent in his hometown.  

looking for a challenge that would take his music to the next level, minki entered a hip hop competition held by marathon entertainment. when staff met with the young man in person, they insisted he enter a second audition with the potential of joining a new idol group the company planned to debut.

minki passed the second audition and joined marathon entertainment as a trainee at 16. dreaming of one day providing his mother the kind of life where she never had another day, and possibly making music with his role models in twotime, he moved away from home and enrolled into a high school in seoul to complete his formal education while attending daily vocal, rap and dance lessons.

after the grueling trainee period, he joined the final lineup of lotto and debuted as the group’s lead rapper, vocalist and visual.

CONNECTIONS

MASC.

SQUAD GOALS: masc. 20-30. (0/5)  simply put, i’d love for minki to have this big dumb friend group featuring top dog male idols from marathon ent. they’re often seen hugging at award shows, going out for bbq, travelling together, clowning each other and breaking the internet whenever they upload selfies!!

MENTOR: masc. 35+. (0/1) this is an older muse minki looks up to and confides in. whether y/m realizes it or not, they’ve become a father figure to minki. he doesn’t have to be another artist! anyone who works at marathon ent (producer, choreographer, etc) would work, as long as minki feels like he can trust them. they’re equipped with the maturity and experience to give him advice about his life, music or relationships.

SOULMATE: masc. 23-25 (0/1)  soulmate /ˈsəʊlmeɪt / noun “a person ideally suited to another as a close friend or romantic partner.” these two are each other’s, through and through. y/m is minki’s second home; they complement and complete each other. their relationship doesn’t have to be romantic at all, even if it has potential to be, in the case of complicated feelings and the crossing of lines. platonic or not, though, minki is in need of deep and meaningful connections, where he feels known. where he feels understood. he thrives off of them. y/m either knows minki since he lived in his hometown busan (there was a childhood best friend, if you’re interested) or since they were trainees. possibly they both attended the same high school in seoul, too.

RIVAL: masc. 23-27. (0/1) a little bit of friendly competition never hurt anyone. these two boys are seen as evenly matched in many regards (leave it to their fans to debate the validity of that, though) and often pitted against each other, sometimes on purpose to rack up clicks and excitement. whether there’s any truth to the rivalry or genuine animosity can be discussed! a future collab between them would create immense amounts of buzz, though.

FEM.

OLDER SISTER. fem. 35+ (0/1) quite similar to the connection above, but in this case, y/m is more of an older sister to minki, maybe even a mom away from home. seeing right through him, she knows when to put him in his place and when to offer him gentle guidance. she’s one of the people he’s come to respect the most at marathon entertainment and he absolutely loathes to disappoint her.

HEARTBREAK: fem. 21-25. (0/1)  minki’s last love was a lost love. maybe they could’ve been happy together if they weren’t both idols, but it’s too late for that now. foolishly, though, they still keep in touch and spent time with each other as  “friends.” they’ve seen so much and know so much of each other, there seems to be no greater comfort for him than hearing y/m’s voice and feeling their warmth in his arms when life goes to shit. but they’re still just friends… let’s hash the rest out to make sure we’re on the same page! inspiration for this connection comes from the lyric “isn’t that what friends are for, even if we used to be more?” from the song partners in crime. if the world was ending is another inspiration.

KNIGHT. fem. 18-23. (0/2) minki as an older brother to y/m!! growing up an only child, he never knew what it was like to have siblings, let alone a younger sister. i think his inexperience in combination with protectiveness could result in endearing and fun interactions. however, he is prone to projecting his own cynical and hostile views onto men that approach women he’s fond of, which isn’t exactly fair to anyone? having someone like y/m in his life could push him toward character-development, though.

NIGHTINGALE. fem. 22-24. (0/1) a nightingale made a mistake; she sang a few notes out of tune: her heart was ready to break, and she hid away from the moon. a small, sweet-voiced songbird that goes on singing late into the night. she's far too bright to be a nocturnal creature in his eyes, but she breaks the stillness, and she’s taken to asking him for advice. they’re quiet company, willing to sit in silence or talk for hours about who knows what, trying to figure out what they are. not even minki knows. he just enjoys her company, and perhaps they’ve found something to bond over. it's still small and precious and new.  

ALL.

ALWAYS: if you're thinking of a different connection that isn't listed here but pings you, please dm me about it!! i'd love to plot and throw in my own suggestions. as a quick aside, i'm always open to friendship, group members, platonic m/f & mf/m dynamics, mentoring, flings, exes, secret relationships, rivalries, innocent crushes, muses, staff members, co-writers, trainees, unrequited feelings, pining, etc.

[kaffeinic]

60 Question Tag Challenge!

I was challenged by @woo-for-woojin to answer all of these. To be fair, I challenged her first, but let’s not get into the details. Original post of questions by @roseyygf.

1: Selfie.

GAAAAAAAH I HATE THIS ALREADY SMH IM SO UGLY.

Lmao look at my fingers. What the hell is going on there?

2: What would you name your future kids?

I feel like that’s a joint decision, so I can’t say. Honestly, I don’t think I’ll want to have my own kids through childbirth. My family has a genetic disposition to difficulties during pregnancy. I might adopt.

3: Do you miss anyone?

A few people. Some of them I haven’t even met in person. I miss my BFF from school. I miss a few people online that I’ve fallen out of touch with. I’m always missing people. 😂

4: What are you looking forward to?

College, and moving out of my house. I’ve been itching to do both of these for years now.

5: Is there anyone who can always make you smile?

@hoshithehamster, @woo-for-woojin, @a-toxic-galaxy, my BFF from school, and my older sister. Also, I swear, @hoshithehamster and I are literally are always TALKING IN CAPS LOCK BECAUSE WE ARE IDIOTS AND WE HAVE THE WEIRDEST, MOST FUN CONVERSATIONS EVER.

6: Is it hard for you to get over someone?

Once I’ve gone all-in, yeah. When it’s a crush, not usually. I’m really slow to develop a crush on someone. Painfully slow lol. I’m cautious because I’ve been hurt by people in that regard a few times. One incident had me suicidal for a long time.

7: What was your life like last year?

Kind of the same? I didn’t have this blog open. If you had asked this regarding two years ago, I would have said that I wasn’t homeschooling, didn’t know how to play piano much, didn’t have this blog, and was very depressed because of my old schoolmates.

8: Have you ever cried because you were so annoyed?

YES! Whenever I feel stuck and know I have no control of a situation, I get frustrated and find a quiet place to cry.

9: Who did you last see in person?

I’m assuming this means out of my own household. The last person I saw was my older sister and her roommates, who I am really good friends with. One of them loves coffee as much as me and it’s great! I spent the night. That was over a month and a half ago lmao. Before that, I had gone on a date at a coffee shop.

10: Are you good at hiding your feelings?

Yeah. My family gets angry at me if I’m sad or angry about anything, so I hold it all in. It definitely has made life a bit harder. I make people angry when I won’t disclose my feelings to them. I just find it to be better to hold it. I have to be really comfortable with you and really love you if I’ll tell you that I’m sad/angry and why.

11: Are you listening to music right now?

Yeah. It’s Le Pire by Maître Gims. He’s a really great French singer.

12: What is something you want right now?

If this is concerning food, I’m in the mood for chicken right now lol. I need some protein. Aside from food, I’m wanting to get a pedal for my electric piano. I have no sustain and it ruins a lot of songs. 😂 It’s why I have my ko-fi open.

13: How do you feel right now?

Meh. I’m not feeling great. I have some issues with fainting. My blood pressure drops like a rock at times and I feel it coming on, if you know what I’m saying. It’s this kind of lethargic, sick feeling. I’m trying to drink a lot of water, just in case it’s about dehydration.

14: When was the last time someone of the opposite sex hugged you?

When I last visited my favourite coffee shop. For those of you who read Caffeinic, Chan’s character design is a mix of his true personality and a barista at my café of choice. He always gives me a hug when I see him, and when I say good bye. 😊

15: Personality description?

For a quick description, I’d say that INFJ, which is my MBTI type, is really accurate for me. I’ll let one of my friends try to describe me. I’m bad at describing myself lol.

Okay, but my heart is combusting. This amazing hooman, I lob her so much!!!! One of my best friends for sure.

16: Have you ever wanted to tell someone something but you didn’t?

All the time. I’m sure you all have heard Fight Song by Rachel Platten, but that line where she says, “And all those things I didn't say // Wrecking balls inside my brain // I will scream them loud tonight // Can you hear my voice this time?” really resonates with me. It was that lyric that hooked me on this song.

17: Opinion on insecurities?

I think 90% of us have them. They are humbling, which can be good, but I urge you to know your worth. I’m such a hypocrite.

18: Do you miss how things were a year ago?

Not really. Not much has changed.

19: Have you ever been to New York?

No, but I’d love to visit! I’m from the west coast lol.

20: What is your favourite song at the moment?

Ramai by Delia & The Motans. I listen to a lot of different languages in music lol. I have no idea what any of it means, so if it’s inappropriate, I apologize.

21: Age and birthday.

Internationally, 18. May 3, 2001.

22: Description of crush.

I don’t think I have a crush???? Haha. There’s this really kind, pretty hot barista at the café who seems to like me but I’m avoiding relationships, so idk. He has green eyes and black, curly hair. He’s maybe 170-180cm, but I’m not entirely sure. He looks damn good in a button up, I... wow. 🥵

23: Fear(s)?

So many lmao. I’m afraid of some trivial things, like bugs and rollercoasters, but I’m also afraid of some different items, like never having a family of my own, or of not being able to achieve my dreams.

24: Height?

154(?)cm. About 5’1.”

25: Role model?

I don’t think I have one lmao. I just try to be the best person I can be. It’s a goal in life for me to be a truly good person.

26: Idol(s).

Aren’t Idols and Role Models pretty much the same thing..? 😂 To be general, I look up to those who have studied in medical school because I know it’s a rollercoaster of difficulties and debt. I applaud them.

27: Things I hate:

This could be a very long list. Let’s go:

Unnecessary rudeness/bullying

Being forced into things I don’t like and/or am afraid of doing

Being lied to

Being stolen from

Being thrown in awkward situations

Being denied my alone time

When people make a mess that I have to clean

When I cook for people and they don’t thank me. My face just scrunched in anger while I typed this one lmao.

Arrogant/egotistic people

So many more, but I’ll cut it off there. 😊

28: “I’ll love you if...”

OOF. There’s no specific thing someone could do. If you love me, I’ll love you. I don’t mean the “awe ily” kind of love. I mean the “I will keep you out of trouble and protect you and be around you only to enjoy your company because I love you” kind of love. True love. Not that artificial crap.

29: Favourite film(s)?

Room 1408 is really good haha. I also really liked A Simple Favour. I like a lot of movies lmao. Superhero movies are always good.

30: Favourite tv show(s)?

I watched a lot of Black Mirror before we got rid of Netflix. I watch Superstore and Brooklyn 99 like they’re the gospel. I’m always down for Gilmore Girls because it’s a classic. I often watch my old childhood shows like Danny Phantom.

31: 3 random facts.

I’m assuming you mean, “3 random facts about me” lol.

I play piano.

I read “too much.” Let’s be honest, is it even possible to read too much?

I write my own stories and songs all of the time.

32: Are your friends mainly girls or guys?

Oof. My absolute closest friends are girls, but the majority of people I would consider my friends are male.

33: Something you want to learn.

Everything I can about medicine. I’m so interested in it, and I love the idea of fixing someone’s body. I’m fascinated by the weird and/or nasty things about our bodies. I hope that doesn’t sound too weird. I also wanna learn how to use a French press lmao.

34: Most embarrassing moment?

I had been selected to perform in a talent show a few years back for my old school and I got up there, face planting on the floor. Halfway through the song, I froze up and forgot the lyrics. I have never forgotten that.

35: Favourite subject?

Any form of science or Language Arts.

36: 3 dreams you want to fulfill?

Become a doctor.

Write a song that someone can perform onstage.

Clock in my 10,000 hours in piano.

Extra: I want to learn violin so badly!

37: Favourite actor/actress?

Jennifer Aniston or Nicolas Cage probably. I don’t pay much attention to actors. I also love Jeremy Renner’s work!

38: Favourite comedian(s)?

Oh lord, this question was made for me. Randy Feltface, Samuel J. Conroe, TwoSet, Ross Lynch, and many, many more!

39: Favourite sport(s)?

Volleyball, baseball, and badminton. Low/no-contact sports lol.

40: Favourite memory?

I can’t think of a specific one, but my best memories are always those random, funny moments I have with friends. I don’t think I’m ever gonna forget when my friend and I named one of her plants for the first time. I made a plant family tree. Dear lord save my soul.

41: Relationship status?

Single~

42: Favourite book(s)?

THAT IS THE HARDEST QUESTION EVER! How can I be expected to answer this???? 😂 I don’t have a favourite.

43: Favourite song ever?

Is this q&a list crafted specifically for me to not be able to answer any of the questions? 😂 I don’t have one. It changes with time.

44: Age you get mistaken for?

People always think I’m younger than I am, but if they don’t, then they over shoot it. Most people think I’m 16, or as old as 20-22. It’s crazy lol.

45: How you found out about your idol.

I’m going to interpret this as how I found out about my ult bias, who is Chan from Stray Kids. I was surfing SoundCloud and found the 3racha page. There wasn’t much there, but I liked what they had recorded. From then, I saw some of their survival show and may have kind of fallen for Channie and his personality lmao. Whoops.

46: What my last text message says.

This is the one I got while I was answering this specific question. 😊

“I feel that. I do hate unrealistic stories or stories that go on to fast like. I want to read stories where I feel like the reader could be me and not some sort of perfect girl getting the attention of all the people and fell in love withing 3 seconds and marry. I know that there must be some drama and special things to keep the story going and that's OK but I really appreciate stories who are still based more on a normal life. And you really do a good job in writing normal life stories // And tbh no story made me as happy as your barista!Chan story. It really is something different and I love it.”

Idk if the sender would be okay with me sharing that it was them, so I just copied it lol. I truly do love the feedback I get from you guys! Thank you all so much~~!

47: Turn-ons?

I’m assuming - again - that you mean romantically? I’ve always liked someone who has a decent sense of humour. Whenever I see someone working hard at their job/studies, part of me finds it... sexy? Idk. I’m weird. Save me. 😂

48: Turn-offs?

Overconfidence is a big no-no. It’s annoying as well. I can’t stand someone who truly is an idiot. Nothing turns me off more than getting a text that’s barely legible with a million abbreviations. Speak to me like someone with a brain, please. Another big turn-off is someone who is just automatically very sexual. I’m not a super sexual person, and I don’t want to hang out with someone who has a one-track mind in that sense.

49: Where I want to be right now.

The café.

50: Favourite picture of your idol?

But... he’s so pretty? How??

Sorry. I do not own these gifs/photos of Chan~

51: Star sign?

Taurus..? Idk if that’s for horoscopes lol.

52: Something I’m talented at.

Mmmmmm idk. I’m pretty mundane. I read a lot. I really would love to say I’m talented at piano, but I just don’t think I’m there yet.

53: 5 things that make me happy.

“Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens...” Sorry.

Classical music

The smell of an old book

Petrichor and/or rainstorms

Playing piano

The smell of coffee

54: Something that’s worrying me at the moment.

Everything?? 😂 I’m worried about affording college tuition at the moment. I’m a senior and it’s steadily approaching.

55: Tumblr friends?

I almost yeeted my phone across the room. This is my question. 😂

@hoshithehamster, my fellow plant mother. I think we are each other’s spirit animal lol. I love you more than you know~! As a side note: She’s model material, I swear! Soooooo pretty, inside and out!

@woo-for-woojin, the most adorable and thoughtful person ever?? Always a pleasure to speak to. She gives the coolest and cutest requests ever, I’m-

@a-toxic-galaxy, one of the first people who supported this blog. I love you so much! We both have gotten a little busy lately, but I hope we never fall out of touch.

@doubleknot42, I guess more of an acquaintance? I still really want to get to know her more. The content on her blog is amazing, I highly recommend.

@ethereal-chanracha, someone who I’ve just recently started talking to. We’ve learned so much about each other in such a short time and I already think she’s so awesome! If you’re down for a good conversation, hit her up.

@palemoonpersephone, a friend I made after writing a post about my experiences at school. She is one of the sweetest, most thoughtful and hardworking people I’ve ever met. She offered to be my friend if ever I need one, and I don’t regret it. 💕

56: Favourite food(s).

Homemade granola (I make it a lot.)

Salad (Don’t @ me. I really do enjoy salad. I’m much more of an herbivore. 😂)

Most types of Chinese chicken

This spicy noodle thing I think I invented?

Italian sandwiches

Any type of spicy chip (Takis, Hot Cheetos, etc...)

Plain white rice

Gochu jang flavoured chicken

Despite this list, know that I’m a very picky eater lol

57: Favourite animal(s).

Foxes

Doggos

CATS

White tigers

HEDGEHOGS OML

58: Description of my best friend.

Y’all probably know who this is, but...

Kind

Attentive

Smart

Pretty

Passionate

gOOFY (like me)

The best plant mother in existence??? Fight me.

Patient

Empathetic

And SO much more~~!

59: Why I joined tumblr?

Initially, just to find cool posts and like/reblog whatever I enjoyed. My main blog, @assainfj, is the same blog I started with lol. It’s now become a place for me to share my thoughts and my writing and to meet amazing hoomans.

60: Ask me anything you want.

YASSSSS PLEASE I love answering your questions~~~~~! Send in as many as you’d like!

~

I tag: @hoshithehamster • @a-toxic-galaxy • @palemoonpersephone • @doubleknot42 • @ethereal-chanracha & anyone else who wants to do this!

[lolcat76]

Sharon and Gavin, after hours, trashing Pope (before the lawsuit escalated after "Silent Partner")

“I see why you don’t like him,” Gavin said as he topped offSharon’s glass.

Gavin’s famous margaritas,still just as strong and as sweet as the first time she’d been invited to hishome to celebrate a winning verdict. This time, fortunately, not with adetective crowing in the corner about honking if the plaintiff loved Jesus.Andy Flynn, Lord…if she had a dollarfor every time she had to choke down her opinions on him, she’d have paid backthat second mortgage Jack took out yearsago.

Andy Flynn was brash, stubborn and completely self-absorbed,just as much now as he’d been that night almost 15 years ago. She shouldn’tlike him, and if she weren’t on her third margarita, she’d be able to clearly statewhy. But…Andy Flynn wasn’t the topic of conversation at the moment. Was he? Sheshook her head to clear her thoughts. Andy kept popping up in these nights withGavin, and she bitched about him so frequently that she couldn’t remember whomshe and Gavin had been discussing before Andy stole her focus. Or why his namecame up, yet again.

Oh, right, people she disliked. No, Andy Flynn wasn’t on that list,even though his FID jacket clearly indicated he should be. Not that she’d tellGavin that. Gavin had his own opinions on Lieutenant Flynn, and she was toohappy with her drink and too cozy on his couch to indulge him on THATparticular topic.

She wanted to tell Gavin that the reason he disliked Andy somuch was that they were so alike. Both stubborn, hard-headed fools with more stylethan sense. Better not to open that particular can of well-dressed worms. Betterto distract him, before Gavin decided to ask why Sharon was bringing upLieutenant Flynn yet again.

Better to remember whom exactly she was supposed to dislike.

Right, she remembered as she sucked the last bits of strawberryand ice from her glass, the subject at hand was Chief Pope. Chief William HenryPope – of course she disliked him. She disliked his pretentious name, and shedisliked his leadership style, and most of all she disliked his habit of staringat her chest when he talked to her. Since the first time they met, he’d never botheredto make eye contact.

Which was bad enough, but par for the course in her job in thedays when the Civil Rights Act demanded that the LAPD bring in new blood. Menalways stared at her chest, but eventually, they looked up long enough to seethat she was neither interested in their attention nor willing to allow thatlevel of bullshit in the workplace. Will Pope, trained in DC where the ruleswere a little more lax and the men were a little less deserving of the ranks they’dbeen given, still stared at her breasts when they talked.

No wonder Deputy Chief Johnson kept him at arm’s length. Sharonwas shocked to this day that Brenda tolerated him at all.

She could have pushed that all aside in the interest of doingher job, but what truly cemented her dislike was that the first meeting in questionhappened off hours, and he stared at her rack while his wife was standing nextto him. What a…dick, she thought toherself, then giggled at the phrase. Whata dick. A lady didn’t say such things, but Will Pope deserved to hear them.“You remember that baseball movie?”

Gavin snorted. Of course hedidn’t remember baseball movies.

“No, you do,” she said,waving so hard she almost knocked herself in the head. Damn, his drinks werestronger than she thought. “Madonna was in it. You made me go see it with you.”

“Ah,” he said. “Yes, Iremember that baseball movie. Lesbians playing baseball, with a good soundtrack.”

“So you’ll remember this.”She giggled, then took another sip of her drink. “Pope looks like a penis witha little cap on.”

The two of them dissolvedinto laughter. Sharon wasn’t sure which was funnier, the mental image her wordsconjured up, or the fact that she’d just said the word ‘penis.” Captain SharonRaydor didn’t say such words. According to the LAPD and the St. Joseph’s PTA, CaptainSharon Raydor was a vestal virgin who, despite two children, had no intimate knowledgeof the male anatomy.

Oh, she’d be fired if she admitted the truth, but for the factthat she wrote the rules on LAPD officers and had first-hand knowledge offireable offenses. Not for her own benefit – she had some standards of professionalismand dignity – but being the author of the rulebook did have its benefits.

Even if her closest friend didn’t believe them. “Honey, I’veseen more penises than you have,” Gavin teased. “If any of them had looked likePope, I’d be straight.”

She laughed again, brushingaside his comment. How sad was it that even Gavin believed she’d never seen anaked man? She loved Gavin, but she wasn’t about to indulge him with thestories of the dicks she’d known.

Definitely wasn’t going totell him that she’d seen a dick the night of that first party, after themargaritas had dried up and one newly sober Andy Flynn offered to drive herhome. Even Gavin’s strongest margaritas weren’t going to pry that secretout of her.

No, time to change the topicof conversation. “Thank you for taking on Brenda. I know she’s a lot.”

“She’s fine. Reminds me ofyou, actually.”

“Of me?” Sharon huffed. Itwas a damn shame that Gavin didn’t have the same restraint as herself when itcame to comparing people. She’d rather be told she resembled Margaret Hamiltonin The Wizard of Oz than be compared to Deputy Chief Johnson.

Gavin hmmmed and nodded. “Both determined to take charge, bothabsolutely convinced that you’re right, neither willing to back down. The onlydifference is, you I could get off inany courtroom in the city. Her...well, darling, it’s a good thing she has arich husband.”

She had no idea that Special Agent Howard was a man with means.Didn’t even know what to do with that information, now that she had it.

Didn’t really care, because her glass was empty, and she wastired of thinking about Pope and Brenda Johnson. She wanted a late-nightdelivery of Chinese food and her own bed before she passed out for the night.She kissed Gavin on the cheek and excused herself, promising to call a cab andlet him know when she got home.

She sent him a text an hour later to tell him that she was inbed with a carton of lo mein. He didn’t ask for details, which was a blessing,because Gavin would have had a stroke if he knew that her cabbie/delivery manwas in her bed and arguing with her over the last bits of broccoli in thecarton.

“You ever see that baseball movie with Madonna?” she asked overa mouthful of noodles.

“Lump three feet over your ass and a penis with a little cap on?Sure.” Andy smiled before shoving the last bite of food in his mouth. “That umpalways reminded me of Pope.”

“I see why I like you,” she giggled, before Andy threw the emptycarton on her bedside table and reminded her, once again, why she put up withhim.

[modernlcve]

*  —  stats —   kelsey dyer !

* — basics !

full name:   kelsey nicole dyer. nickname(s):   none standard. age:   twenty-two. date of birth:   december fourth. place of birth:   boston,   massachusetts. gender:   female. pronouns:   she / her. sexual orientation:   bisexual. level of education:   high school graduate.

* — physical !

tattoos:  none. piercings:   ears pierced twice,  right cartilege pierced.   used to have her belly button pierced, but she’s someone’s mom now. notable features:   big ol’ doe eyes. weakness(es):   too trusting :pensive: scar(s):   a faint one,   right above her left eyebrow.

* — domestic !

occupation:   front end clerk at the superstore. residence:  lives in an apartment with anthony. social class:   upper middle class. parents:   joseph dyer,   age 49,   a contractor,   he can’t relate to kelsey on much, but they try their best to get along. heather dyer,  age 48,    the parent kelsey has historically been closest with. siblings:   joseph dyer jr,   age 26,   the most supportive member of her family by far.   he takes being the oldest serious.   cameron dyer,  age 9,   a fundamentally good kid,   even if won’t stop getting caught drawing dicks in the window on the bus. children:   indigo harding,   who is born the second i post this.    she’s an aries destined 2 overpower kelsey One Day. extended family:  her father has 3 sisters,   they spend holidays with her paternal grandparents and then all her cousins and stuff.

* — personality !

positive traits:   lively.   big-hearted.   encouraging. negative traits:   naive.   judgemental.   holds a grudge. myers-briggs ( x ):   enfp,   the campaigner. temperament:   sanguine. moral alignment:   neutral good. horoscope:  sagittarius,   the archer. hogwarts house:  gryffindor.

* — favorites !

movie:    uptown girls. tv show:   america’s next top model. book:   the wizard of oz by l frank baum. drink:   cherry cola. food:   mac n cheese. animal:   raccoons. color:   lavender. song:   long live by taylor swift. artist:   britney spears. celebrity crush:   chris hemsworth.

* — impressions !

first impression:  she makes a decent first impression. she lacks a filter and can sometimes cross a line with things she says without realizing it,  but,   for the most part,   she’s pretty bubbly and friendly and all that. self impression:   she’s got a healthy self esteem,   for the most part.   she thinks she has a good head on her shoulders and a strong moral code.   she thinks she treats people well,   and that’s what really matters. lover impression:   she’s a good girlfriend,   i think. supportive,   tries to relate to their interests  ( even if she simply cannot get baseball ).   she thinks there’s power in little things and rolls with that.

* — et cetera !

turn ons:   tall people.   ambition.   kindness. turn offs:   condescension.   hipsters.   mustaches. drink/drugs/smoke:   yes/weed/no. dominant hand:   left,  but claims to be ambidextrous,   her right hand just sucks. clean or messy:   messy. early bird or night owl:   night owl. hobbies or special talents:   she did ballet for years,   she’s a pretty good dancer.   she’s also double jointed and can do that thing where u flip ur eyelids inside out.

* — QUESTIONNAIRE !

01. where was your character born? what brought them to boston? what do they like most about the town?

kelsey was born in boston.   she’s stuck around because of circumstance,   she couldn’t afford to go off far after she graduated,   and her family needed her to stick around a little,   but she doesn’t know if she would have left,   even if she could.   she doesn’t think about it much anyway,   because she knows boston is where she’s meant to be:   if she hadn’t been here,   she wouldn’t have met anthony,   she wouldn’t have had indigo,   and it just feels like it’s where she really truly belongs at this point in time,   at least.

02. who are your character’s friends and family? who do they surround themselves with? who are the people your character is closest to?

in the past year,   kelsey’s really been Figuring this out.   her relationship with a lot of her friends and family changed after she got pregnant.   she’s never been exceptionally close with her father,   and he’s tried his best to be cool about all this,   but it took a toll on her relationship with her mother.  they were always close,   but her mom is just Simply not jiving with the decisions kelsey’s been making.   her brothers have passed less judgement,   and of her actual family,   she’d say she’s closest to them  ( even her mom has Limited her access to cameron lately ).   but anyways all that is part of the reason she’s so apt to call her palls from the superstore her family.   she really does consider them her closest friends,   as they’re people who didn’t start treating her different.   she feels like nobody skipped a beat.   outside of that,   there’s anthony,   of course,   and by extension of him,   the college Gang.   she doesn’t feel as Welcome among their ranks:   she knows she isn’t as fancy or smart as most of them and just tries to keep to herself when they’re all out.

03. what is your character’s biggest fear? who have they told this to? who would they never tell this to? why?

kelsey’s current biggest fear is that her mother is right,   and she is messing up her life or anthony’s with having this baby,   or that she just generally won’t be a good mom.   most of her is confident she’s doing the right thing:   she’s excited to be a mom,   she loves anthony,   she feels like they’re gonna get through this.   but she knows it won’t be a walk in the park,   and she’s not stupid enough to not realize that people don’t see her as the Most Competent.   she’s ready to give it her all,   and work to make it all fall into place,   but she’s worried she won’t be enough,   and she’ll screw up indigo,   and ruin things for anthony,   and mess up her life.   she’s probably pretty open about this,  in the kind of way where she’s looking for validation.   its a conversation she’s had with anthony more than once.   she’s never tell her mother this,   she’s not about to give her the satisfaction.

04. has your character ever been in love? had a broken heart?

kelsey had two “”serious” partners before anthony:   a high school sweetheart  ( a football player who proposed to her before they graduated,   prompting her to call it off )  and a Grown Up relationship  ( a girlfriend she had fresh out of high school,   she dumped kelsey before she studied abroad,   didn’t want to be held back ).   she thought she loved both of them and felt pretty heartbroken after they were out of her life.   being In Love with anthony has definitely  made her reconsider how intense she thought those relationships were,   but ultimately,   she doesn’t discredit them because they were so important to her at the time,   she’s taken the thank u next approach.

06. it’s saturday at noon. what is your character doing? give details.

if she’s not working,   she’s probably either goofing off on youtube enjoying a grilled cheese or,   in recent weeks,   she’s taken to scouring mommy forums online that,   quite frankly,   scare the shit out of her.   she’s been trying to do things like take midday naps and go see rated r movies while she still can,   so maybe she’s out there just fucking around and enjoying her freedom.

07. what is one strong memory that has stuck with your character since childhood?

kelsey did ballet for most of her life,   from age 5 through all the way through high school.   she remembers sitting in her mother’s bathroom before one of her first recitals,   getting all dolled up in the mandatory makeup:   mascara,   lipstick,   all that jazz.   she remembers how grown it made her feel,   even if her eyes watered and ruined the mascara twice,   and it frankly stands out to her more than the recital itself.

09. what is something that upsets your character? where do they go when they’re upset?

kelsey is a Bit Tender and a lot of things make her upset,   at least on a surface level.   but it takes more to actually get under her skin and make her Truly Upset.   its mostly people related,   rude little comments with bite,   feeling like people don’t like her or judge her/someone she loves.   she’s protective of her brood.   when she’s upset,   she likes to curl up in bed with junk food and watch a little mindless tv.   maybe it doesnt fix things,   but its a distraction.

10. when your character thinks of their childhood kitchen, what smell do they associate with it? why?

her dad is one of Those Guys that has a special chili recipe he’s Very much a diva about.   he made it at least weekly,   and the smell of it all sitting out to simmer for hours stands out to her.   she liked to help him with it,   it was one of the few things they could bond over.

[tucker-batson-blog]

Task001: part two

Health

51) Have they ever been seriously injured?

“Plenty times. As I mentioned before, I’m kinda prone to disaster.”

52) Any allergies? How bad is it if they have it?

“I’m allergic to bees. Deathly allergic. Luckily there aren’t any bees in space! ...Right?”

53) Do they get sick often?

“Nah, I have an immune system of steel.”

54) Do they need to take medicine for anything?

“Nope!”

55) Are they a hypochondriac?

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

56) Do they even like going to the doctors?

“Going to the doctor is no big deal. Just something that’s necessary, I guess.”

57) Do they brush off injuries or seek help?

“Sometimes I’ll brush off a small injury and go on if I can. Also, if I get sick, I try to just get bedrest and ride it out.”

58) Do they know first aid?

“I do! It’s a very necessary skill.”

59) Do they have health insurance? If so, how good is it?

“I assume I do? I forgot to read the fine print when I signed up for this job...”

60) Have they ever harmed themselves?

“Never intentionally.”

Favorites

61) Fav animal? Why?

“Dogs! All dogs, any type of dogs. They’re good boys.”

62) Fav type of music? Why?

“I like anything with a funky beat. Hip-hop is probably my favorite, but I also like any kind of music that gives me like a retro-futuristic vibe?”

63) Fav place? Why?

“At the moment, it’s the Atlas-7′s viewing window. I love looking out at the stars.”

64) Fav food/drink? Why?

“A good ol’ deep dish pizza.”

65) Fav type/article of clothing? Why?

“Baseball caps! They’re dual-purpose: you wear them the right way around, you’ve got yourself sun-protection; you wear them backwards and you’ve got yourself a cool accessory.”

66) Fav time of day? Why?

“Late afternoon, when you get to clock off work and start winding down.”

67) Fav season? Why?

“Summer. Beach trips, pool parties, and barbeques. Need I say more?”

68) Fav story (be it from a book or something like a myth/fable)? Why?

“The Princess Bride! Comedy, adventure and romance equal the best story of all time.”

69) Fav thing to learn? Why?

“I like to learn new things about my friends and people around me. People are multi-faceted and interesting, and there’s always something exciting to learn- even about those closest to you.”

70) Fav scent? Why?

“The scent of a freshly mowed lawn in summer.”

World

71) Do they live on earth? Somewhere else?

“Currently, living on the Atlas-7.”

72) What time period do they live in? If not earth related, on whatever planet they live on, what time period is it like there?

“Oh, shoot. Good question. Gotta ask Samson about that.”

73) Anything special about their world?

“Heck yeah it’s special! We’re in deep space!!”

74) What are their world leaders like?

“Do we...do we have any world leaders yet? I don’t think we do?”

75) What is the state of their world like?

“Well, I feel like there’s a lot we still need to find about it. There’s a world of adventure out there!”

76) Do they wonder about their place/role in the world?

“Sometimes I wonder if I should be excited or scared about what’s out there, and just how well I can do my job protecting my friends.”

77) Is their world in contact with other worlds?

“Not yet. If there are any aliens listening, hit me up! If you’re, like, peaceful though.”

78) What area of their world do they live in? (I.e, hot/cold/mild climate and/or in a peaceful/war-torn/dictatorship)

“I live in my room aboard the Atlas-7, which is a peaceful realm ruled by yours truly.”

79) What is the wildlife like?

“There’s no wildlife yet, but man, am I itching to find out what the wildlife is like on planets out there.”

80) Do the people of this world have a religion or belief in a higher being? Does your OC personally believe in any?

“I don’t have any particular religious beliefs, myself, but I respect those that do.”

Skills

81) Do they know how to fight?

“Yep! Had to go through years of training for this, sooo. And there is also my military background.”

82) Can they drive? (Can be a car, train, plane, etc)

“I could drive vehicles on earth, but I’m not experienced in the realm of piloting.”

83) Can they swim?

“I can indeed!”

84) Are they handy?

“Kinda? Give me some duct tape and basic tools and I might be able to make a plan. I’m no mechanic, though.”

85) How quickly can they learn?

“I’m a little slow to learn new things, sometimes.”

86) Can they speak more than one language?

“Nah. Wish I could, though.”

87) Can they read and write?

“I can!”

88) Any survival skills?

“Yeah, some very basic survival skills. I’m no Bear Grylls, though.”

89) Can they cook?

“Not in the slightest!”

90) Any unusual/unique skills? (I.e, special powers compared to others)

“I can rap Nicki Minaj’s entire verse in ‘Monster’.”

Other II

91) Do they believe in destiny/fate? Do they think it can’t be changed?

“I do. I’d also like to say I’m pretty optimistic about it. Sure, we have some kind of hand in our own fate, but I think ultimately we’re all destined for something.”

92) Do they have any regrets?

“Sometimes I wonder if maybe I’d done something different back in the day, I might have obtained all my goals and dreams by now. Sometimes I just have to remind myself I still have time.”

93) What do they fear the most?

“Oh, man... complete isolation, I guess. I’m scared of waking up one day and everyone I know is gone.”

94) Do they believe in love at first sight? Soulmates? That love never dies?

“Yes, I strongly believe in all of these things.”

95) Can they play an instrument?

“I can play the fool!”

96) How messy is their room?

“Way too messy. I should probably sort that out.”

97) Can they dance?

“Nope, but I really wish I could.”

98) Do they like to meet new people? Do they like people in general?

“I love people and meeting them! You have to see the best in people, or life will be bleak.”

99) Are they hopeful for the future?

“Very hopeful. I’m hoping we all achieve great things out here.”

100) Why did you make this OC and maybe even the world they live in? Just cause? Or for some other reason?

OOC: Tucker’s a bean who deserves to explore space. There’s no one better suited to going on an adventure that’s intent on discovering new planets and starting new lives for the people around him. In this essay, I will