#was so ready to reblog that post about having worked in food service

[undeadbutch]

what if we stopped making jokes about killing ourselves, or others killin themselves, thatd be pretty crazy haha

[cerealandchoccymilk]

Trigun Bookclub: Trigun Vol.1, Chapter #04

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This was actually pretty much ready last night but I hit post limit. L

I'm doing a deep-read of the Japanese original print (reread) and Overhaul 1.0 (first read) side-by-side, and writing down everything I notice from small details, version differences, translation differences, etc. (and being so normal(<-lie) about my faves as always)

As always, here are the non-analysis panels of the babygirls (!!!!! this time with Milly my beloved)

And the rest is under the cut :)

[link for if the images aren’t in horizontal rows]

Not as many this chapter since it's sort of between arcs.

Starting off with how this exchange between this guy and the mailman was handled! Originally, the "Thanks / Anytime" part was one speech bubble and came from the long-haired guy. He says「はいよ　ご苦労さん」(smth like "Alright. Thanks for your work."), and the tiny speech bubble from the mailman is a shortened form of "Thank you for your constant patronage." Because the lines become a bit redundant in English, Overhaul combined the guy's lines, splie his speech bubble, and moved the mailman's line to a more visible location. Just a little translation/typesetting trick I thought was clever.

April City in Japanese was stylized to Ainpril City.

I lied in the last post. Vash's antennae are back up; it'll still be a bit until his bent antennae becomes permanent. I guess it was just his hairdo coming loose during the Nebraska commotion.

And more MillyMeryl manzai routines!! I love them

This is definitely me reading into it too much... but I like the contrast between the girls, who have a job but are broke, and Vash, who does fuck all and even refused $$700 thousand but properly has money for the sandsteamer fare.

Also, he has a cool cloak! I forgot about that.

Tonis!! (remembering what happened to him in Stampede...ough......)

This conversation about Vash just... makes me Feel some Feelings. His pacifism and sheer niceness lights up the whole town. man.

Tiny detail: Silvie had a ruby note saying "store owner."

ok i'm as upset about this as yall are about to be. i am so sorry.

「うーん　少うしもったいなかった　かな�� もったいない itself could!! mean "to be too good for smth" ("that was too good for me"), but here, used by itself with no additional context, it defaults to "wasteful" → "Maybe I missed out..." 😭 but we can ignore this. acespec Vash must prevail. i'm very sad about this too.

This does not mean the translation or the common Western interpretation of this is wrong!!!! But this is definitely the way Japanese readers interpret this line, and probably the meaning Nightow intended. If there was something like 僕には before the middle line, this would've definitely gone the acespec route. Implied subject/object is a bitch

But with your help, we can all just forget everything I just wrote here and pretend it never happened! Deal? Deal.

Vash's agony is represented with squiggles in this panel.

I didn't notice this until someone else mentioned it, but this is a Wolverine reference!

Translation error - This line is by Kaito (the boy), saying "That's gotta be from the second time!" pointing to when Vash stuck his head through the vent himself.

food service au canon real.

That’s it for Chapter #04! As always, the Japanese annotations are in the reblogs.

[adhd-merlin]

I've read the Will post you reblogged, it's all very sweet, but: Merlin himself has said that the years before he came in Camelot were the loneliest years of his life. His mother, Will, the entire village of people not hostile to magic were less dear to him that his destiny service to Camelot. So, no: relationship with Will is secondary to him, there ficwriters are right writing them in such manner. This passage about loneliness was probably created by the writers to emphasize Arthur & Merlin's unusual kind of friendship, like they only have each other, but in fact it devaluated Will for Merlin and the knights for Arthur.

Hi anon! Cool glasses.

Yeah, I haven't analysed that post that deeply, I just thought there were some interesting points in there (as someone who's never given much thought to Will). And for the record, sometimes I might agree with 90% of a meta post and go "eh, I don't know" about the rest — I might still reblog it, because it's still food for thought, and I'm okay with not agreeing 100% with everyone all of the time. (Unless I think they are blatantly wrong about the remaining 10%). People can interpret things differently and that's alright. That's what makes things interesting!

That said.

Merlin himself has said that the years before he came in Camelot were the loneliest years of his life.

This passage about loneliness was probably created by the writers to emphasize Arthur & Merlin's unusual kind of friendship (...) but in fact it devaluated Will for Merlin

Merlin was always lonely. He might have been less lonely in Camelot than he was in Ealdor, just by virtue of being around more people and feeling like he was working towards a bigger purpose, but he was lonely. He is so lonely it's heartbreaking.

It's... lonely. To be more powerful than any man you know, and have to live like a shadow. To be special, and have to pretend you're a fool.

It's a loneliness born out of having to hide his true nature and, at the same time, being unable to befriend those he could be open with about his magic, people like him — Morgana and Mordred, of course, but occasionally also the Baddie of the Week — because fate and prophecies have set them on opposing sides. It's tragic.*

(Colin Morgan himself briefly touches upon Merlin's loneliness in his commentary to Ep 5x02, when he says "there's a sense of loneliness in all the magical characters, I think. [...] All united in the loneliness.")

So, personally, I don't think Merlin talking about his loneliness says anything negative or even especially significant about the quality of his friendship with Will. Merlin was (and remains) lonely because of his nature and of his circumstances. It's not really anything to do with Will.

His mother, Will, the entire village of people not hostile to magic were less dear to him that his destiny service to Camelot

Just because magic isn't banned in Cenred's kingdom, it doesn't mean that the people there are less hostile to magic. If people in Ealdor were tolerant towards magic, Merlin wouldn't have had to hide it the whole time he was there. He might not have been burnt at the stake for it, but it's very much implied he would've been (at the very least) viewed with mistrust or even ostracised by the other villagers.

And I don't believe S1 Merlin considered his mother less important than his destiny. He tries to bargain his life for hers in 1x13. (Even in 2x09 he is ready to give up his destiny to run away with Freya. Also almost killed Arthur, btw. And yes, in my book that is pretty much a murder attempt).

I assume you're saying that because he initially refused to use magic to defend his village? But like I said, Ealdor was only slightly less hostile to sorcerers than Camelot, and Arthur was right there. It wasn't just a matter of what was more important to Merlin, it was a matter of his own survival too. S1 Arthur wasn't ready to hear about Merlin's magic. He literally lectures Merlin about magic being dangerous while he's watching his childhood friend burn on a funeral pyre (dick move, by the way). The man who died saving his life. So that didn't leave Merlin with much choice, despite what Will's rebuke implies.

In the end he does use magic, and he's almost discovered — he only gets away with it because Will takes the blame. So his reluctance in using magic to defend his village wasn't completely unfounded.

Was Will more important than Arthur to S1 Merlin, or even equally important? I suppose that's a matter of interpretation.

The author wrote:

I feel that Merlin’s relationship with Will is something that is important to him, and something that he has never considered to be secondary or less important than the relationships he built in Camelot.

IMO, Will was clearly a dear friend to Merlin, regardless of his comment about feeling lonely in Ealdor. And I don't know if Merlin's relationship with Will was as important to him as the relationships he built in Camelot (in which I include people other than Arthur, like Gaius and Gwen), but it clearly was important.

Will was literally the only person who knew about Merlin's magic, other than his mother, before he met Gaius. The only person he didn't have to hide his true nature from. That's got to count for something.

And as much as Merlin cared about Arthur, he never had that with him. It was, tragically, a very one-sided relationship, until almost the very end.

I think you might still argue that Merlin's relationship with Arthur was more important — if you were so inclined — because of the whole destiny thing and how it gave Merlin a sense of purpose. But based on the friendship alone? Very one-sided, like I said. And I don't think Merlin was significantly less lonely around Arthur.

Sorry, I've just rambled on.

_____________________________________________

*I'm 100% sure I wrote a short meta post (well, random thoughts) about this because it's something I've thought about so much. And now I can't find it. Why do I even tag posts when I can't find anything half of the time!!

ETA: found it

[faizablog1]

I posted 1 time in 2022

That's 1 more post than 2021!

1 post created (100%)

0 posts reblogged (0%)

I tagged 1 of my posts in 2022

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#make money today - 1 post

Longest Tag: 26 characters

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[astelren]

Dr Stone Jealousy HCs

ೃ⁀➷ TW/CW: Fluff, Jealousy (D'uh), Honestly nothing much, Gender Neutral Reader (one use of they/them pronouns), let me know if I need to add more TW/Tags ♡ Minors please interact with me only by liking or reblogs. ➳ Characters: Ryusui Nanami

⤠ None ⤟ Dr Stone Masterlist (soon!) ⤠ None ⤟

Anon request: Hello there~ can i request a jealous ryuusui hcs uwu the world needs more ryuusui content~ thankyouu OwO

Is the dr stone fandom still alive? Hello? Anybody there? I miss talking about Ryusui and Stanley honestly... - This is a rewriting of my old work, originally posted on @/severnliliuch.

You thought that Ryusui, a man with everything, never gets jealous? You are so, so wrong. His jealousy is more because of lack of attention though, since he is pretty secure in himself and your relationship.

What do you expect from the greediest man in the stone world? Once Ryusui gets a little bit of your attention, he wants all of it. And he doesn’t really like to share with others

But this is the stone world, there's a lot of stuff to do, so you don't give him the attention he wants and craves. If this were the modern world, Ryusui would have simply stolen your attention by either something you like, coming to you with a massive smirk on his face ready to show off his ability, or taking you out on a date

However, he can’t do it in the stone world, even if he has you working for him. Ryusui would pout seeing you talking with others, even if it’s Yuzuihira, and he is going to interrupt your conversation or simply hug you from behind

Ryusui it’s also more prone to get jealous if you are spending too much time with his brother, even if he is glad that you two are on good terms! But spending too much time with Sai and Ryusui is pouting so hard. And would constantly try to interfere with your conversation, much to his brother's dismay and terror

Like I said before it’s when you are doing it too much without him, Ryusui does understand that you two can’t be together all the time, you have stuff to do and sometimes it’s nice to be alone. But constantly, or often, ditching your time with him to be with someone else makes him jealous.

His jealousy also makes him show off, even more, just to get your attention or, even better, your compliments. Ryusui will lavish on your compliments like a beautiful calm sea, and it’s a good way to make him less jealous and calm

Another tactic is: demanding you rest. There is a lot of stuff to do, sure, but you wouldn’t want to overdo it would you? Better relax a little bit, Francis is already ready with your favorite food and drink. Ryusui would assure you that it’s okay, no one would bat an eye if they saw you two relaxing

Also… Please imagine Gen using this situation to get more money for ryusui ajsbjs “Oh, but you know! We need their service for the greater world, we don’t want to fall back from sched-“ and ryusui just throws money at him AHHAHA

I also think that, at first, he won’t understand that he is jealous. Ryusui will need either you, or Francois, to actually say it to understand what he is feeling, but then he won’t hide it or be embarrassed at all

"Yeah, I’m jealous. I want to have all your attention, and being the only one in your eyes cutie, you should know by know how greedy I am right?” Ryusui will say it with a huge smirk on his face

You can defiantly tease him about it though, he’ll let you. Smirking and teasing you back probably, holding you by the hips as he so carefully watches you and pulls you for a kiss

As per the “classic” situation of jealousy, Ryusui will simply watch from afar when someone tries to flirt with you. Stone world or modern world everyone would know that you are with him, and like I said before, he trusts you deeply, so unless the person is clearly disrespecting you, or you simply need help, he won’t interfere.

Why go with someone else when he can give you everything you wish for in the world? His endless love, money, status, attention, all you have to do is ask and Ryusui would give it to you no question asked.

You can’t even try to make him jealous on purpose, since Ryusui sees through it way too quickly. He won’t flirt with someone else to make you jealous but will tease you to no end, laughing and kissing all over your face while commenting on how cute you are.

Jealous Ryusui is so needy and clingy, not really leaving your side and wanting your attention all the time. A good way to make his jealousy go away is to cuddle with him before going to sleep, holding him closer to you.

This work belongs to @/astelren, do not repost, translate, copy, rewrite or share on tiktok without my permission. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged♡

[evanjinx]

alternative universe buddie fics recs :)

note: the links weren't working the first time i wrote the post but i edited and they're okay now!! if it still isn't working for you is probably because you're trying to open from a reblog from before i edit it, so try open directly from the original post on my profile.

Blind Date by @sassypopstar [complete | teen and up audiences | 3.8k words]

Buck feels a little ridiculous dressed in a jacket and a shirt. But Maddie had insisted on him dressing up for the occasion and even Chimney had quipped that it’s the right thing to do. So Buck, who never went on a blind date before in his life, listened to his big sister and her boyfriend because apparently that’s who he is now. Or the one where Buck goes on a blind date with someone called Eddie.

Buckley's Bouquets by awashleyno [complete | teen and up audiences | 23.4k words]

A world where Buck owns a flower shop and manages to develop a huge, massive, ridiculous crush on a handsome firefighter that comes in for a visit one day. Or, 5 times Eddie gives flowers to other people and the 1 time he gives them to Buck.

Call It What You Will - Fate? Destiny? (A Tsunami) by @abow123456 [complete | mature | 20k words]

Evan Buckley's day of relaxation is cut short when a tsunami hits the beach he was relaxing at. He has to fight to keep himself and a lost little boy safe from the water, as well as anyone else he finds. After, he meets the boys father and family, and it causes a snowball effect of good things for him, for once.

Capuccino with extra, extra sugar by buckbng [complete | teen and up audiences | 2.7k words]

Buck is the cute barista and Eddie is the grinch that hates coffee. Until, he doesn't. Because if Buck says he looks like the kind of person that would love a cappuccino, who's Eddie to disagree with him? OR Eddie really doesn't like coffee but pretends he does just so he has an excuse to see the cute barista at the coffee shop.

Confirmation Bias by strifechaos [complete | mature | 31k words]

After the fallout with his ex-wife, Eddie believed he could only trust his family with his son. He hadn’t imagined falling for his son’s sweet-hearted nanny, Buck. With his own family so distant, Buck never considered that he’d be lucky enough to find a home for himself, let alone people he could count on. Not until he meets the Diaz boys. AU: Buck was never a firefighter, and becomes Christopher's sitter when Shannon's job takes her away from Eddie and Chris for the summer. Eddie tries to not fall for his son's nanny, he's not very successful.

dream of some epiphany by extasiswings [complete | mature | 7.3k words]

Evan Buckley is lost. It’s happenstance that he wanders into the navy recruiting center—he’s been in San Diego for a few weeks, bartending late nights and weekends, living in a house with three other guys not because he needs the roommates but because he doesn’t want to be alone, and the military is…respectable. Stable. So Buck thinks maybe and opens the door. Buck leaves ten minutes later with a set of printed instructions for sending his first letter, assured that he can drop it off whenever he’s ready, and a name. Staff Sergeant Edmundo “Eddie” Diaz.

Frequent Flyer by red_to_black [complete | mature | 13.4k words]

In his entire time being a firefighter, Eddie has never met anyone as accident-prone as Evan Buckley. And Buck - well, he's quickly becoming the 118's best customer. (Or - the one where Eddie is a firefighter, Buck isn't, and Eddie finds himself rescuing Buck from increasingly sticky situations. Sometimes literally.)

Gave me no messages, gave me no signs... by @reallysmartladymariecurie [complete | teen and up audiences | 7.4k words]

"Buck is beyond nervous, and he’s really trying to convince himself that the familiarity of the situation is not some sort of bad omen. Just because there are parallels of the start of his relationship with Eddie to that of his relationship with Abby doesn’t mean that this new adventure is destined to end in the same miserable fashion. He hopes it won’t, has to believe it won’t. Because even with Abby, he hadn’t fallen this hard for her before their first official date. With Eddie, everything is already intensified by a thousand." Or, Buck covers a shift for a firefighter at the 136 and it leads to a budding relationship through text messages.

Gotta Find My Corner (Of the Sky) by doctornineandthreequarters [complete | general audiences | 31.3k words]

It was the last day of 2016 and two lost souls found themselves in a quiet dive bar, as the loud noises of the city celebrating New Year’s Eve buzzed around them. Most people chose loud, flashy bars with DJs and entrance fees and promises of champagne for New Year’s Eve. But both occupants of the dive bar preferred the quiet. They both didn’t need the added chaos when everything around them already felt chaotic. --- Or, Buck and Eddie meet on New Year's Eve, 2016, a meeting that sets of a series of events that changes the trajectory of both of their lives.

I Didn't Know I Was Lonely 'Till I Saw Your Face by @hmslusitania [complete | general audiences | 10.4k words]

After the ladder truck and the blood clot and the tsunami, Bobby makes Buck go to therapy before he does something stupid (like sue the city). Buck's not totally comfortable being alone with a therapist, but fortunately he makes a friend and ally who's willing to help him out - Eddie Diaz from the 136 who's just been caught in an illegal fight club. OR Total strangers Buck and Eddie go to couple's therapy together to get out of the therapy requirements their captains have placed on them.

i want your midnights by allyasavedtheday [complete | teen and up audiences | 36.3k words]

In which Eddie decides to rent out his spare room to help with mortgage repayments right around the time Buck decides to move out of Abby's place after some not so gentle prodding from Maddie. It's a coincidence. Or serendipity. Or maybe just really good timing.

i wanna be know (by you) by @starlightbuck [complete | general audiences | 12.5k words]

“I didn’t mean to do it.” Hen glances down at Eddie’s phone then back up at him in disbelief.

“How do you ‘not mean’ to download a bunch of dating apps but still have them on your phone?”

Or  In which Eddie delves into the intimidating world of online dating.

if i got locked away (would you still love me the same?) by @firefighterhan [complete | general audiences | 3.7k words]

Buck gets accidentally thrown in jail after meddling in a fight outside of a grocery store. There, he meets an unexpected guest, famous music artist Eddie Diaz, who is being suspiciously quiet about how he ended up here in the first place.

if only in my dreams by @buttercupbuck [complete | general audiences | 5.4k words]

Years before Eddie joins the 118, Buck meets him at an airport bar on Christmas day.

in a week by @buttercupbuck [complete | explicit | 78.9k]

in which Eddie joins the U.S. Forest Service and in the meadows of California, finds the things he thought he lost and the things he thought he'd never have.

It Started With A Bang And A Hostage Situation by JayJay__884 [complete | general audiences | 6.6k words]

Buck goes to the store one late night to buy food because of Maddie's pregnancy cravings. Whilst at the store, Buck accidentally gets caught in the middle of a robbery and gets knocked out. After waking up in the backroom, Buck finds himself as a hostage with a handsome and caring stranger.

Leading with the Left by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels [complete | explicit | 84.7k]

When Buck said he was a "bartender" in "South America" what he actually meant was "stripper" in "Mexico." And when Eddie said, "What's your problem?" what he actually meant was, "Is this about the time you gave me a lap dance?" In other words, there's a few things the 118 doesn't know about Buck. Or Eddie. Or Buck and Eddie's relationship.

Lift me up by @captain--sif [complete | teen and up audiences | 5.5k words]

Buck gets stuck in his apartment building's broken elevator with his good-looking neighbor from the sixth floor.

Love and Bullets Both Shatter Hearts (But Only One Can Put You Back Together) by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels [complete | explicit | 11.2k words]

Agent [Redacted] Diaz is the best at what he does. Usually. But lately there's this real pain in the ass* who's been ruining his missions: Code Name "Buck."

*stupidly handsome and annoyingly talented rival spy

Mr. Buckley's After Hours Detention by aresaphrodites [complete | mature | 11.4k words]

It’s not like Eddie Diaz planned on this. Really, there was no scenario in his mind where he would ever be bringing his son’s teacher a freaking goody basket to class; a homemade goody basket, no less. Then again, Christopher has never had a teacher quite like Evan Buckley.

MukbangsWithBuck by @reallysmartladymariecurie [complete | teen and up audiences | 19.3k words]

After growing tired of eating alone in his loft, Buck decides to start a YouTube channel where he records himself eating dinner and telling stories about crazy things his team has encountered on calls. He eventually gains a substantial fanbase, and he is led to the channel of another LA firefighter who uploads informational videos and also casual vlogs with his ten-year-old son. It isn't long before the two start a friendship through messages, both of them secretly hoping it will turn into something more. Or, Eddie and Buck are both firefighters/YouTubers and they end up falling in love.

Objects in the Mirror by SevenSoulmates [complete | explicit | 139.1k words]

The voice had always been around, Eddie remembers it, like a stream of consciousness that babbled incoherently to the point where Eddie just tuned it out.  But then the voice started speaking directly to him. Conversing like he was a whole person standing right in front of him. Like he could see what was happening around Eddie. Eddie shook his head. No one was talking to him, and Eddie most certainly was not talking back. He wouldn’t talk to the boy in his head ever again. There was no boy in his head. 

Passive Aggressive Flirting by @starlingbite [complete | general audiences | 4.5k words]

Buck and Eddie have never met. They both work at the 118 but just on different shifts. That's all about to change when Buck finds a sticky note message, signed E.

String of hearts... by @reallysmartladymariecurie [complete | teen and up audiences | 11.1k words]

“Now. Eddie is this incredible presence. He’s funny and smoking hot, and he has a son who sounds wonderful. And he’s serious and vulnerable at times. But so enjoyable to be around, every single second that he’s there. And how can I put myself out there when the expectation is so high? When the thing I might lose is so beautiful?”

In which Buck owns a plant shop in LA, and Eddie becomes his new favorite customer. Pining ensues.

check out my post of buddie fics with dad!buck

[behindyourbarrette]

Star Light, Star Bright

summary: The team goes camping on a long weekend. Turns out, it’s really easy to tell someone how you feel when you’re under a starry night sky. 

pairing: spencer reid/reader

category: fluff, start to finish

warnings/includes: mention of food, a mild burn

work count: 4.1k

a/n: this is my fav thing i’ve written in a HOT SECOND. enjoy! pls reblog if you feel inclined, it helps me out a ton!

check it out on ao3

---

You’ve never found chicken pox to be more of a miracle.

In truth, you are a little saddened that Jack’s Boy Scout troop all got sick and their camping trip had to be postponed. This does not change the fact that you’re elated at the opportunity to nab Hotch’s campsite reservation. The team jumped at the chance for a vacation, the promised long weekend only truly promised in places without cell service.

You pick Spencer up early, the first of many people you’ve offered to drive out to the mountains. After tossing a very heavy-sounding duffel bag into your trunk, he clambers into the passenger seat. He strikes you as a little nervous—he won’t quite look at you as you wind your way out of D.C and towards the countryside.

“I’ve never been camping before, actually.” He says it quietly, mid-conversation about Boy Scouts and the safety of camping with children. There’s a 5-mile radius around Quantico where work is the only thing you can really think about. As you turn onto the highway, hands flexing against the wheel, you’re glad to be free of the office.

“Really? Never?”

It makes sense, the longer his sentence sits on your tongue. Vegas isn’t the most hospitable environment to camp in. You make a mental note to thank your parents for raising you on the East Coast, where the forests are frequent and the soil is actually fertile.

“Yeah. I’m not sure, I’m, uh, really suited for it.” You look at him now, the slight sadness in his eyes, and there are a thousand things you’d like to say. Instead, you reach across the center console, squeezing his hand in yours. Before he can say anything, you’ve returned your hand to the wheel, eyes fixed on the horizon. 

---

You’ve lived in Virginia for a few years, but somehow you’ve never found it this breathtaking. You have no idea how you got roped into driving, given that Derek and Emily usually take the wheel, but you’re far from complaining. As you wind through the forest, the canopy of leaves casting a filter of sunshine over the ground, you’re left speechless. The trees part in favor of the dirt road, and you find yourself absorbed in the surplus of green and foliage as you drive.

“There’s over 15,000 acres of this. It’s the largest protected land preserve in the tri-state area.”

You turn your head to watch Spencer murmur, still absorbed in a book. For the first time, you notice that he’s wearing a polo shirt and a beanie that Penelope knit him for Christmas. The whole sight is so...un-Spencer like that you’re torn between finding it endearing and concerning. You gulp down everything you want to tell him, swallowing all of the unidentifiable feelings in your throat.

“I’m excited. I love camping. My dad used to take me here all the time.” He perks up at this, and closes his book. You nod, pursing your lips into a smile. You steal a quick glance at the backseat, where Penelope and Derek have fallen asleep.

“Can you keep a secret?”

You have Spencer’s attention now. He nods so vehemently you laugh, tearing your eyes away from his in favor of focusing on the road.

“I wanted to be a park ranger when I was younger.” You’re only a little embarrassed of this; the jump from environmentalist to federal agent is just laughable enough to warm your cheeks. Spencer’s eyes widen.

“Really? How did you—I mean, when did you decide to be a—actually, I take it back. Hugging trees is beneficial for your health, after all.” He smirks, and you reach out to punch him on the arm. He rubs the spot absently, a grin forming on his face as your blush deepens. You try to portray yourself to the team as someone who’s a little tougher than the little girl who cried when she found out that people litter in National Parks. With Spencer, it’s different. Still, you can’t bank on what he will or won’t tell Derek.

“If you tell anyone, I will kick your ass. Forget it.” You get the sense that you are not going to live this down. To your advantage, it’s Spencer who blushes this time, his cheeks warming a delicate pink.

“I can’t forget it, actually. I have an eidetic—ow!”

---

The campsite is glorious.

Or, as Penelope would put it, rustic. It’s the perfect happy medium between the forest and the lake nearby, with a trail leading to the beach just a few feet from the site. The trees filter out just enough sun so that it’s pleasantly warm out. There’s ample space for a few tents, and a bear locker. You’re seated at a picnic bench with the girls, unloading the food and cooking supplies as the boys attempt to put together tents. From what you can see and hear, it sounds like Derek is muscling his way through it, much to Spencer and Hotch’s chagrin.

“You’re glowing. What’s got you in such a good mood?” Emily nudges you in the side, a sly smile on her face as she screws the propane line into the campstove. You flush, and shrug your shoulders.

“I love camping. I’m just excited to be here with you guys.”

Penelope reaches across the table to hug you. She’s dressed perfectly for the occasion: you don’t think you’ve ever seen bedazzled hiking boots before, but there’s a first time for everything.

“You know, I’m surprised Spence came. He normally skips out on these kinds of things.” JJ looks back at you from the bear locker, where she’s stacking cans of soup and Hotch’s cooler. Her gaze lingers on you for a moment, but you look towards Spencer before she can say anything else. He’s managing to put up his tent surprisingly well; he’s only struggling with the final few posts as he stumbles around the uneven ground. You turn back to JJ, shrugging.

“I mean, I think he can appreciate the outdoors. He’s probably read Walden.”

Emily laughs, and you feel as though the conversation has finally let up. JJ has a point, but as soon as you had asked Spencer if he was coming, he had agreed. He doesn’t look particularly out of place, either. Over the course of the past hour, he’s somehow inherited a pair of sunglasses and a red flannel. You look away, pursing your lips.

“Okay, I think we’re done.” Derek calls, waving his arm to catch your attention. There are now five small tents, only a little crinkled and trampled over. Emily nods in approval, nudging one of them with the tip of her boot. It only shakes a little.

“Good job, guys. They look...structurally sound.” Hands on your hips, you bend to inspect the guys’ handiwork. Spencer winces as you tug on a tent’s zipper, and it whines in protest. You shrug, smiling as you straighten.

“We should check out the lake.” Derek gestures to the blue expanse of water in the distance, and Penelope squeals. You hear the sound of metal clinking together, and turn.

It’s Hotch, holding what you assume to be a fishing pole. While this should be very surprising, you can’t come up with anything funny to say. Emily makes a joke about the catch of the day, and Hotch doesn’t laugh.

“Are there canoes involved? I didn’t bring a suit.” JJ asks, arms crossed over her chest. You nod, pointing to the rental shack on the eastern side of the lake.

“You guys ready to get some sun?”

---

“You look cute in hiking boots, princess.” You should not find this as funny as you do. Maybe it’s the fact that Derek definitely had Penelope apply some sort of oil to his biceps while they were in a tent; there’s no way that he just naturally glistens like that. You squint up at him, shrugging your shoulders. While your outfit is a little unorthodox—you remembered to bring a bikini, but forgot water shoes—it’ll work just fine. Spencer enters your peripheral vision, wrinkling his nose in Derek’s direction. You resist the urge to smile at this.

“Spence.”

You get his attention, catching up to him in just a few steps. The beach is pretty, lacking in sand but perfectly cool and sunny. He’s wearing too-big sunglasses and, surprisingly, Bermuda shorts. You trudge along the rocky path, handing him a bottle of sunscreen.

“Come on, I need your help. Sunscreen me.”

He seems shocked, fiddling with the bottle. You turn your back to him, raising your arms as you walk backwards, waiting to hit him before you stop.

“Is sunscreen a verb?” His voice is a little hoarse, and you smirk.

“Would you prefer lotion? Massage?” You tease, and you can practically feel him tense up.

“N-no, I wouldn’t. Hold your hair up.”

You oblige, and it takes everything in you not to sigh as he rubs the cool sunscreen into your back. He has really, really big hands and nimble fingers. Biting your lip, you conjure a mental image of them. You feel a little silly for imagining his hands when he’s right there, but you don’t want him to stop touching you. He coats your skin, movements deft and purposeful. You turn, reaching for the bottle.

“Take off your glasses. Your turn.” You like being a little bossy; he flushes as you reach up to spread the lotion across his cheeks, dabbing gently. He exhales slowly, relaxing into your touch.

“Let’s go. You’re my canoe buddy.”

His mouth falls open in surprise, and an evil part of your brain wonders how it would feel to kiss it. The thought is gone before you can act on it, though, and you wave him towards the shore. He stands still, lingering by the campsite.

“I was going to read on the beach, actually—”

“Nope. Come on! I need a partner.”

—-

The lake is cool, and you make yourself busy by being a very unhelpful canoeing partner. Spencer is rowing surprisingly well, scooping water from below and propelling the boat forward. You, on the other hand, are focused on stretching out in the boat. The sun is deliciously warm on your skin, and the occasional splash of water is heaven to the touch.

“You know, there are two sets of oars. We’d get the most momentum if you rowed, too.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll row. I’m not any good at it, though. That’s why I needed a partner.” You pat him on the shoulder affectionately, reaching for the other oar. The motion tips the canoe forward a little, and panic flashes across Spencer’s face.

“Don’t do that again. I do not want to end up in this lake. Do you know how many bacteria are in most man made lakes? You don’t want to know.”

You are many things, but you are not a quitter. Testing the waters, you lean forward again as you row, a little out of sync with Spencer’s strokes.

“Please don’t capsize,”

Hotch calls out from the shore, and Spencer shoots you a look as if to say listen. You shrug, continuing to row and occasionally shifting your weight. The look on his face is worth it.

“You know how to swim, right?”

You ask, voice low and as inconspicuous as you can manage. This backfires—Spencer turns around to shake his head, unbalancing the boat. He lets go of his oar, tightening the strap on his life vest. You cling to the sides, laughing as you try to steady the canoe.

“Not funny. You know, boating related accidents are incredibly common.”

His voice drifts off as Derek and Emily’s boat passes by. Their sportsmanship is admirable; they’re working as a perfect unit, quickly propelling their canoe forward with quick rowing and a lot of effort.

Spencer is scolding you half-heartedly when you get caught in their wake. You couldn’t have steadied the boat if you tried; and before you can react the canoe is upside down and you’re cast into the cool blue.

“I’m going to contract a brain-eating amoeba.”

Spencer coughs, bobbing to the surface. You emerge a few moments later, laughing, and reach for him.

“Worth it. You have plenty of brains to be eaten, genius.”

You watch him try to contain his smile the entire way to the shore.

---

You’re drying off as the sun sets, splashes of pink and purple coating the sky. It’s incredible; over the lake you can see the entire expanse of fields and forest, laid out like a painting.

“You guys brought food, right?”

Emily calls out from the picnic bench. She’s toweling off, sunglasses in her hair as she jokes with Morgan. You nod, turning back to Spencer.

He’s thoroughly drenched. You feel a little guilty for tipping the boat over; he’s spent a decent amount of time wringing out his clothes, and as night falls a chill builds in the air. After pulling a jacket on, you toss him a towel.

“That was fun.”

Your eyes widen a little, genuine surprise lodging itself in your throat. He takes in the look on your face, smiling lightly.

“Better than reading on the beach?” You offer, but this is too good to be true.

“Marginally.”

You frown, suppressing a smirk as you catch the scent of propane drifting through the air. You both head in the direction of the camp stove, where Hotch is fiddling with the gas tank.

“That looks...unsafe.” Spencer mutters, brow furrowed.

Hotch shoots him a look, and you both back off in favor of finding Morgan and Garcia, who are attempting to start a bonfire.

You don’t expect this to happen.

Spencer is arguably your best friend. He’s been there for you through thick and thin. For better or for worse, you’ve had each other. This trip was supposed to be unifying, and a small part of you had even hoped that maybe, just maybe, it’d give you the bravery to say what you’ve been thinking for a while.

“I cannot believe you intentionally burn your marshmallows.”

Spencer is looking at you like you’ve committed a crime; you are very familiar with this expression, but being on the receiving end of it is new. Thankfully, you’re ready to defend your stance to near-death. A somewhat maniacal grin on your face, you stab another marshmallow onto a skewer and shove it directly into the fire.

“I’m with Pretty Boy on this one. That’s just cruel. It doesn’t even heat it all the way through.” You scowl in Derek’s direction, turning back to your now on-fire marshmallow. You pull it out of the flame, watching it sear as the group murmurs in distaste. It only took three hours to start a fire, and by that time Emily had managed to heat a can of soup on the campstove. Spirits were relatively high, all things considered.

You watch in wonder as the marshmallow curves, melting just how you like it. Before you can stop it, it falls straight down onto your leg.

“Shit. That’s like, on fire.”

You say, your voice rising in pitch and volume as it becomes increasingly clear that not only is the marshmallow very, very hot but it is not coming off. The group springs into unsure action, voices loud and panicked as you push away from both your chair and the fire. The physics of melting sugar be damned, Derek manages to scrape it off with his skewer, and you’re left with a very attractive hole in your pants and a patch of tender skin.

“How do you love camping?” JJ asks, eyes wide as she watches you brush yourself off. Stabbing another marshmallow onto your skewer, you shrug.

“It’s all part of the fun.”

This time, you don’t set your marshmallow on fire. You mimic Spencer, who is carefully rotating his marshmallow. There has to be a system for what he’s doing; he’s laser-focused on the fire, his entire face lit up by the flickering red and orange light. You lean in, and before long you fall into a rhythm of roasting a marshmallow to golden-brown perfection, then pressing it into a graham cracker. Emily is incredible at assembling s’mores, and by time the fire is just a few crackling embers everyone has a little chocolate smeared over their faces.

“I’m really glad we did this.” JJ’s voice is just above a whisper. She’s leaning against Emily, the two of them sharing a blanket as the fire slowly fades. Hotch nods sagely, a rare smile on his face.

“It’s nice. A break. Some fresh air. Trees.” You gesture to the forest around you, unable to contain a sheepish grin. When you look to your right, Spencer’s smiling too. Penelope squeezes your hand. As you watch the last log burn into ash, you wonder how you got so lucky.

---

Later, everyone is too tired to stargaze.

This fact wounds you deeply. Stargazing is your favorite part of camping; there is absolutely nothing that parallels the experience of driving away from the city and looking up into the constellations. To your dismay, everyone is in their tents by the time it’s dark enough to see the winks of light overhead.

You begrudgingly get ready for bed; stepping around the campsite, it’s clear to see that everyone has mostly turned in for the night. Derek and Penelope’s tent is dark. Emily, Hotch, and JJ are all snoring at varying volumes. Spencer’s light is on; you can see his shadow, leaning over to peer at a book. You brush your teeth, swatting bugs away as you stumble towards your tent.

You manage to spend thirty minutes in your tent before you lose your patience. This entire camping trip has been a dream; no work, no cell service, and the people you care about. You’ll be damned if you let it pass you by without checking absolutely everything off your list. You step, a little wobbly, towards the front of your tent. You tug the zipper open, trying to stay as quiet as possible.

On shaking legs, you tug your hiking boots on, the evening cold nipping at your ankles. Despite your attempts to lessen the noise, you watch Spencer’s shadow waver.

“Spence!” You stage-whisper, praying to every deity you can think of that he’s awake and the rest of the team isn’t. To your immediate relief, you watch him tug the zipper of his tent down and emerge, swatting at a few lingering mosquitoes. He looks a little cold; his cheeks are pink and he’s rubbing at his arms. The sight of him in a hoodie and flannel pajama pants is more endearing than you’d expect, and you exhale to clear your head.

“What’s going on?”

He rubs the sleep out of his eyes, and you point to the sky. He takes a cursory glance up, and you watch his jaw fall slack as he takes in the starry skies.

“Come on. We can see better from over there.”

You wave him towards the beach. You know exactly where you’re headed; while you’ve never camped in this specific spot, you know how to reach your favorite place to stargaze. Spencer looks at you with something between curiosity and admiration as you lead the way with a flashlight. The forest is still awake and responsive at this hour, crickets chirping and leaves rustling as you step through the greenery.

You find it quickly; the boardwalk is unmistakable. It’s a field, like the ones you’ve been surrounded by all day. Spencer identifies the leaves as rhubarb plants as you step onto the wooden pathway. While any field would work, this one is ideal; the sky opens up as far as the eye can see, the trees parting to admire the world above.

“Here.” You turn off your flashlight, allowing your eyes to adjust to the low, blue moonlight. Spencer follows you as you crouch, laying with your back to the boardwalk. This is what you came for.

“Oh my God.” Your face splits into a grin once you hear Spencer’s voice, low and gravelly against your ear. The sky above is endless; all you can see is the expanse of the stratosphere, stars bright and darkness vast over your heads. You tear up a little; you always do. It feels like the universe is leaning down to meet you in the middle, pressing its face to yours.

“Tell me what you see. I know that you know what we’re looking at.”

You scoot a little closer, trying to absorb a little of his warmth. Eyes still fixed on the sky, Spencer begins.

“There’s so little light pollution. I...I’ve never seen this many stars at once.” His eyes narrow a little, and you watch as he absorbs the world above him.

“That’s Orion.” He points to a collection of stars to your left, a few brighter than the others.

“Those three in a row, that’s his belt. You might be able to see his bow, too, to the right.

The brightest one is six hundred and forty light years away. Betelgeuse.” His voice has dropped to a whisper, and you follow his every word. You can see the warrior above you, the stars winking at you as Spencer describes them.

You fall quiet after a few minutes, and the only sound is that of your slow, synced breaths. You feel as though Spencer has peeled the sky open and revealed it to you; with him, you can see another world entirely.

“We’re looking into the past right now.”

You turn to look at him, a laugh ready to bubble past your lips. You look back up at the sky, where he’s pointed to the Big Dipper.

“That’s Dubhe. We’re seeing light from before we were born.”

You nod, a tear sliding down your cheek and cooling before it reaches your nose. There is so much you would like to tell him before you are both light, visible in this moment from somewhere far away.

As you stare up into the starscape, you gasp. There’s a shooting star, dragging across the Pleiades and heading towards the western skies.

“Make a wish,” You breathe. Before you lose your nerve, you reach out to Spencer, lacing your fingers together. Turning your head, you watch as he grins up at the sky. His features are softer when drenched in moonlight; the slope of his nose, the arch of his cheekbones, the line of his jaw all bathed in a dreamy quality.

After the shooting star winks out, trailing across the dark and blinking into nothing, the silence feels heavier.

“What did you wish for?”

You’re sure that he can hear your heartbeat. The steady thrum of your heart against your ribcage is a drum, urging you forward. You watch his brow knit in consideration, before his gaze finally meets yours. His eyes are more hazel than you’ve ever noticed, each fleck of gold striking you as a star.

“If I tell you, it won’t come true.”

His voice is soft, laced with something solemn beneath the surface. You nod, stealing a glance at the sky before you swallow your fear.

"I wished for you." You say quietly.

You don’t know who moves first, only that there’s a brief shuffle before you’re holding each other. He reaches to cradle your face in his hands, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, before finally reaching your lips. Your hands ghost over his jaw, trailing down his neck as he laces his fingers into your hair. You can’t quite breathe, nor think, only repeat a simple refrain over and over, a prayer passing over your lips and into the dark.

Spencer.

---

The sun rises lazily, pink and orange brushstrokes against a blue sky. You’re awake early—to put it lightly, Spencer’s tent is cramped—and it feels good to breathe in the morning air. The team is still asleep, a few yards away as you stretch and take in the cool dawn.

You think maybe, this is all a dream. You’re not sure how else this would exist, so perfectly and wholly true. The universe is a benevolent thing, after all. There is no other explanation for Spencer Reid, the man the world got right.

“You have pancake batter in your hair,” You say, a little mournfully but still laughing. Still layered in jackets and hats, you feel as though you’re being warmed from the inside out. Spencer’s eyes widen, and he reaches up with a batter-covered hand to feel his hair. You laugh again, a little too loudly this time, and he shushes you between chuckles.

The campstove is quiet, the gas running blue as Spencer flips a pancake over. You neglected to tell him that folding the pancake mix in slowly would prevent...explosions. If you had warned him, you wouldn’t have the chance to kiss the flour off of his face, smiling against his cheeks. With a mittened hand, you brush the powder off of his eyelashes.

“Chocolate chips, right?”

You smile, nodding. He remembers how you like your pancakes. Turning away from him, you rifle through a storage bin for something you packed.

“Are you looking for syrup? It’s over here.” He calls, his voice soft against the hushed sounds of morning. The birds have begun to chirp, calling to each other in alternating duets. You shake your head, and present him with a contraption.

His eyes light up, and he looks at you with something a little wild and entirely resembling devotion. You reveal with your other hand a bag of coffee grounds from the coffee shop near your house, grinning up at him.

“I can’t believe you brought me a French press.”

You grin, turning your face as your cheeks burn. Maybe you had hoped this would happen, in slightly different words. After you both tuck into your pancakes, leaning over a plate on the same side of a picnic bench, you watch the sunrise. A bundle of puffy jackets and intertwined hands, you press your back into Spencer’s embrace.

As you watch the moon recede into the horizon, you hope that your past is standing hand and hand, gazing at you fondly.

[bellaireland1981]

New Beginnings: A Christmas at Disney

Summary:  Follow up to New Beginnings series- Andy and Briella head to Disney World with Jacob, Ava and Bri’s parents for Christmas. A little bit of Christmas magic mixed with a little bit of Disney magic and you never know what will happen! 

Characters: Andy Barber x Briella James (named reader), Ava James, Jacob Barber, and Briella’s parents. 

Warnings:  None- FLUFF and lots of sweetness 

Word count: 5k (it got away from me!)

**Read the series starting with Ch 1 HERE

A/N: I do not give permission to copy or post my work on any other website or platform. Reblogs are always welcome. Andy Barber and Jacob Barber are characters that do not belong to me. All other characters in this story are my own. Thank you @denisemarieangelina​ for reading and being my sounding board for all things Disney! 

“Slow down, Princess” Andy laughed as Ava all but dragged him towards the entrance to Magic Kingdom. “It’s not going anywhere.”

“Someone sure is excited to get to Disney!” Your mom laughed, walking behind with you, Jacob and your dad.

She wasn’t wrong. Ava had been a ball of excitement since you’d gotten on the plane to fly to Orlando. You were staying on property at the Contemporary Resort, so the Disney magic had started at the airport when you’d boarded the Disney bus to head to the hotel. Once you’d arrived, she’d discovered several gifts on her bed of the hotel, including a breakfast reservation with all of the princesses.

“I can’t be late to meet the princesses! Hurry!” She begged.

“We have plenty of time, Monkey” You assured her, “We have early entry to the park, and breakfast isn’t for another hour.”

That seemed to satisfy her some, as she slowed down at least. You all made your way into the park and started out on Main Street, looking in some of the shops. Soon, it was time to make your way over to breakfast at Cinderella’s Castle. Ava was beyond excited at this point. Jacob walked ahead with her, holding her hand so she didn’t get too far ahead of everyone.

“She’s in heaven.” Andy said, smiling at Ava as she interacted with all of the princesses. “I love seeing her so happy.”

“She’ll be on cloud nine for the rest of the day, and probably the trip.” You agreed.

“This just might be the highlight of her entire year.” Your dad laughed.

After breakfast, you moved through more of the park until lunch time. By then Ava was starting to get tired, so you and Andy took her back to the hotel to rest for a bit. Your parents stayed at the park with Jacob, continuing to explore the park.

Ava was already asleep when you got to the hotel. Andy carried her to the room and gently laid her on the bed.

“We’ll let her recharge her batteries and then we can head back for some more.” You said, “I know she won’t want to miss the parade or the fireworks later.”

While Ava slept, you and Andy ate a light lunch on the balcony of the room and enjoyed some quiet time together. Once Ava woke up, you got her some lunch and the three of you headed back into the park to meet up with Jacob and your parents.

You spend the afternoon going through the park,meeting all the characters, and riding as many rides as possible. By the time the parade begins, you’re convinced Ava and Jacob are both riding a permanent sugar high. You’ve never laughed so much as you did watching the two of them go through Disney together.

You snap lots of pictures of the various floats and characters as they go by. Being Christmastime, all of the floats and characters were decked out in holiday decorations. It made an already magical place, extra special.

“I love that Jake is having just as much fun as Ava, even though he’s a teenager.” Andy said, wrapping arms around you and resting his chin on your head. “I always wanted to bring him, but Laurie never seemed interested.”

“Well, we can make up for lost time now.” You promised, “We can make it our mission to visit during all of the holidays at least once. Or at least visit once in every season.”

“We may need to look at an annual pass,” Andy laughed, “But I’m sure Ava and Jacob would both like that plan.”

“I think you’re right.” You agreed, “They’ve both caught the Disney Magic, and I don’t think there’s a cure.”

“Mommy, when do the fireworks start?” Ava asked, turning to look at you from her perch on a nearby bench. Jacob was standing next to her, ensuring she didn’t fall.

“Soon, Monkey” You replied, “It’s after the light parade and when it gets just a little bit darker.”

“You’re going to love this Ava!” Jacob said, “I watched a YouTube video of it and I bet it’s even better in person!”

Jacob wasn’t wrong, the fireworks show was breathtaking. They were both mesmerized the entire show. You and Andy kept stealing glances at one another from over the tops of the kids’ heads. Once the show was over you started the trek back to the monorail to head back to the hotel. Jacob gave Ava a piggy back ride, as she was beyond exhausted while you and Andy walked behind them, and your parents walked in front of them.

Once back at the hotel, your parents went to their suite next to yours and the four of you headed into your suite. Ava was half asleep on Jacob’s back. Andy carefully lifted her off and carried her to one of the bedrooms.

“Do we need to wake her up to use the bathroom or change?” Andy asked you, gently laying her down on the bed and carefully pulling her shoes off.

“She should be ok as she is.” You replied, smiling at how loving and gentle he was with her.

“I’m going to crash too.” Jacob said, coming in and flopping down onto the other bed. “Thank you for bringing us. Today was a lot of fun.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Andy smiled at Jacob, “Sorry it took so long to get you here, Pal.”

“It’s better this way.” He replied, “It’ll only be good memories. Not tainted.”

“We love you, Jacob” You said gently, “There’s a lot more happy memories to be made, get some sleep sweetheart.”

You and Andy made your way out of their room, into the sitting area of the suite. He grabbed your hand and gently pulled you to the sofa, sitting down and pulling you into his lap.

“The past 3 months have been so amazing, I keep forgetting he’s still healing and coming to terms with everything that happened.” Andy sighed, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head against yours. You wound your arms around him, your fingers gently threading in this hair.

“I have no doubt that there’s still a long road to recovery for him, but I can assure you, he’s come so far the last few months.” You reassure him. “He’s resilient, strong, and has a huge heart. He also has an amazing dad in his corner. And now he has Ava and me who will always be there for him, and pseudo grandparents.”

“I love you, Sweetheart.” Andy said, his lips finding your own.

“I love you too, Andy.” You replied between kisses. You both stayed on the couch for a while, enjoying the stillness of the night and being in each other’s arms. Eventually you made your way to the second bedroom in the suite and fell into an exhausted sleep curled into each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning was Christmas Eve. You’d all decided to order room service for breakfast before heading to Animal Kingdom for the day.

While waiting on breakfast to get delivered to the room, you and Ava go into the bathroom where you braid her hair for her in an Elsa style braid per her request. Once finished, she goes out to join Jacob to plan out what they want to see that day. You quickly finish getting ready and then join everyone in the common area of the suite.

After the food arrives, you help Andy get it all set up on the table for everyone. While setting the table you and Andy overhear Ava asking Jacob about Santa.

“Jakey,” Ava asked softly, “Will Santa be able to find me here at the hotel? And how will he get in? There’s no fireplace here… and we don’t have stockings or a tree!”

“He knows where we’re at, Kiddo.” He reassured her, “And he’s got magic, remember? He doesn’t need a fireplace to get in.”

“But what about the stockings and the tree?” She asked, not convinced, “Those are still at home.”

“We’re at Disney” He replied, “Between Disney magic and Santa’s magic, I think it’ll be covered.”

“Promise?” She asked, holding out her pinky to Jacob.

“Promise.” he said, linking his pinky with hers.

You looked at Andy, worried. You hadn’t thought about this aspect of being away for Christmas. Of course Ava would be worried about Santa not coming and being upset about not having the tree and stockings up.

“I’ll take care of it.” Andy whispered, reassuring you. He pulled you close and leaned in to kiss your forehead. “Trust me.”

“Always” You replied, smiling.

“Who’s ready for more Disney today?” Your dad said coming in through the suite door. “I hear Animal Kingdom is on tap for the day!”

“ME!” Ava said, jumping up and running over to hug him. “I can’t wait to see the animals and go on the safari! Jacob showed me a video!”

“I’ll bet it’s going to be another fun-filled day!” Your mom said. “And I heard one of the hotel workers say they’re preparing a giant batch of cookies for a certain someone who’ll be stopping by with presents tonight!”

“Really?” Ava asked, “Mommy! We need some of those cookies!”

“I’ll look into it Monkey.” You promised. “Let’s eat so we can get over to Animal Kingdom.”

Once everyone had finished eating you all headed down to the front of the hotel to catch the shuttle bus to Animal Kingdom.

Jacob and Ava wanted to do the safari first when you arrived so you headed over there.

“It’s kinda like when we first met at the zoo.” Jacob said, smiling at Ava. “Not a train, but still cool.”

“That was the best day EVER!” Ava exclaimed, “Mommy and I got  you and Andy that day!”

“You sure did, Princess.” Andy said, smiling lovingly at her. “You and your Mommy captured our hearts that day for sure.”

“Definitely the best day.” You said, wiping a stray tear from your eyes, smiling.

The safari was incredible. It was fun watching Jacob and Ava point out the animals and bonding over animals again.

“Those two have such an amazing bond.” Your mom said once you’d finished the safari. “They remind me of you and your brother when you were little.”

“They really do.” You agreed, “It makes my heart melt watching them together.”

“They’ve definitely already adopted one another.” Andy added. “I love getting to see Jake in a protective big brother role.”

“He’s got the role down pat for sure.” Your dad winked at Andy.

You headed to Pandora the world of Avatar next and spent a few hours there, before grabbing lunch and continuing on to the rest of the park.

You decided to head back to the hotel before dinner time, opting to eat at the hotel rather than Animal Kingdom.

While you headed to the pick up area to catch the bus, Andy nodded at Jacob who smiled and walked ahead with Ava a little bit in order to talk to her.

“It’s time, Kiddo.” He whispered, “Remember what dad wants you to say?”

“Yes!” She whispered back, excitedly. “I need to go to Cinderella’s wishing well and make a wish!”

“Good job.” He smiled at her, “Make sure to really sell it!”

They stopped at the bus pick up and waited for everyone to catch up. The trip back to the hotel didn’t take too long. When they arrived back and got off the bus, Andy winked at Ava over your shoulder.

“MOMMY!” Ava exclaimed, “We have to go back to the Magic Kingdom! I have to go to Cinderella’s wishing well!”

“Ok, Monkey” You said, amused, “We can go back tomorrow.”

“NO!” She insisted, “I have to go TONIGHT! It’s Christmas EVE and Jacob said that Disney magic AND Santa magic are EXTRA special. So I HAVE to make the wish tonight. Pleeeeeaaasssseee?”

“How about we take the monorail and go to the wishing well then just get dinner at the Magic Kingdom tonight?” Andy suggested, “It’s still early enough.”

“We can see if there is availability to eat at Cinderella’s Royal Table.” Your mom suggested, “I know our little Princess would love that.”

“Sounds like fun to me!” Jacob said, “We can see the fireworks show again!”

“Ok then,” You laughed, “I guess we’re not done with Disney today just yet.”

“YAY!” Ava yelled, happily. “Let’s go! Let’s go!” She tugged Jacob’s hand and started moving to the monorail.

“You know we can’t always give in though, right?” You asked Andy, laughing, “We’re creating a monster here.”

“I know, but it’s Christmas.” Andy shrugged, smiling, “And it’s Disney.”

“Wrapped around her little finger.” you laughed

“Possibly.” He agreed. “Come on, let’s go experience some more magic.”

You rode the monorail into the Magic Kingdom and immediately headed towards Cinderella’s wishing well for Ava.

“While we’re here did you want to go on any of the rides again or see anything else?” You asked the kids.

“Nope! Just the wishing well!” Ava said, “And what Nana said for dinner. I like that!”

“I’m good.” Jacob agreed, “We’re doing Epcot tomorrow for Christmas around the world”?

“Yup!” You confirmed, “We’ll do breakfast and presents in the morning and then head to Epcot later.”

“Cool.” he smiled. “There was a shop I kinda wanted to go back to on Main Street if that’s ok on our way out?”

“Of course!” You said, “We can stop after dinner. I may pick up some treats from the candy shop too.”

“Now who has whom wrapped around their finger?” Andy teased you, mimicking your earlier words.

“Hush” You laughed, “Not the same thing.”

“Uh huh.” He nodded, smirking.  “Your argument is weak, my love.”

Once you arrived at the wishing well your mom and dad walked up with Ava and Jacob giving them each coins to toss into the well.

“Andy and Bri, you make wishes too.” Your mom said smiling, her hand holding out two more coins. You and Andy reached over and took the coins.

“You have to hold the coin in your hand really tight” Ava told Jacob, “Squeeze your eyes close and think REALLY hard about what you want to wish for. If you think about it and wish hard enough, it’ll come true!”

Jacob followed her instructions and made his wish, tossing the coin into the well. Ava made her wish next, tossing her coin into the well.

“Your turn Mommy!” Ava said, “Make a wish! Close your eyes REALLY REALLY tight and wish SUPER hard!”

Andy smiled at her, winking. You laughed, then closed your eyes tightly and made a show about really thinking about your wish, wanting to make Ava happy. In reality, you already had everything you could wish for. You finally tossed your coin into the well, opening your eyes.

“Ok, Andy…” You said, turning around to face him, your words getting stuck when you saw him.

While you were making your wish, Andy pulled the ring he’d been holding onto out of his pocket and had dropped down to one knee.

“Everything I could possibly wish for is already right here with me, Bri.” He said, his voice full of emotion. “I never really believed in second chances or in happily ever after until I was lucky enough to meet you and Ava. I was determined to be the best dad I could to Jacob and make our own happiness. We moved here for a fresh start, and I was given that and so much more. You embraced Jacob and he immediately started healing, and finding himself again. I was probably already half in love with you when we met for that reason alone. I fell completely in love with you the day in the zoo. Watching you with Ava and Jacob, I knew that’s what a mother’s love was supposed to look like. My heart was also captured by a little Princess that day. Bri, I love you completely with everything that I am. I love Ava as if she were my own. I love our little family that we’ve created. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of our lives together, raising these two crazy kids, and any more that may come along.”

You wiped at the tears now steadily streaming down your face at his words. Your heart bursting with love for him.

“Briella James, will you marry me?” Andy asked, smiling up at you, his eyes brimming with love for you.

“YES!” You exclaimed happily through your tears. Andy slipped the ring on your finger and then stood up, pulling you to him and kissing you.

You could hear loud applause all around from your parents, Jacob and Ava, but also from many strangers who had witnessed the proposal.

“I love you too, Andy.” You said when you could regained your composure. “More than I can possibly put into words.”

“Congratulations you two!” Your mom and dad said, coming over to hug you. Ava bounded over and threw herself into Andy’s arms hugging him tightly.

“I’m really glad you said yes.” Jacob said hugging you, “I mean I figured you would, but I’m still really glad. I love you Bri.”

“I love you too, Jacob.” You replied, a fresh wave of tears springing to your eyes.

“My wish came true!” Ave laughed happily, “Jacob was right! Disney magic and Christmas magic together makes the wish more powerful!”

“We have reservations at Cinderella’s Royal Table in 20 minutes.” Your dad said, winking at you. “Let’s get some pictures and then we can head over.”

Your parents snapped pictures of you and Andy and then of you both with the kids before a very helpful cast member came over and offered to take a picture of everyone together. One you were done with pictures, you made your way to dinner.

Like the princess breakfast, Ava was enamored by everything at dinner. It was fun to see her so excited. You kept sneaking peeks at your left hand, smiling whenever you saw your ring. Andy saw you looking and smiled widely.

After dinner, you all went to the shops on Main Street for some last minute shopping. Once you were all done you decided to skip the fireworks show again and head back to the hotel. Ava was anxious to pick up cookies and place them out for Santa and it had been a very eventful day.

The trip back was quick as most people were staying until the park closed. When you entered the hotel you took Ava to go get some cookies while everyone else headed up to the rooms. You knew Andy had something planned for her, but he hadn’t let you in on exactly what the surprise was.

Once Ava picked out the perfect cookies for Santa you headed up to the suite. When you walked in you both let out surprised gasps. While you’d been gone today, your suite had been turned into a Christmas wonderland. It could almost rival the North Pole. In one corner of the common space, a large tree had been set up and decorated. Garland was strung around the suite, what looked like mistletoe was hung by the balcony doors and on one wall, stockings were hung. The stockings were all Disney themed and had everyone’s names embroidered on them.

“MOMMY!” Ava exclaimed, “It’s BEAUTIFUL!”

“It really is, Monkey.” You agreed, “It’s perfect.” You looked over at Andy, smiling. You walked over to him and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him down so you could kiss him.  “Thank you.” You whispered.

“Of course,” he replied, kissing you back. “Anything to put a smile on our Princess’ face.”

Jacob helped Ava get the cookies on a plate and placed a small carton of Milk next to it with a note. Ava had written the note to Santa earlier in the day and sealed it in a hotel envelope so we couldn’t see it. She insisted it was for Santa only.

“Alright, Princess,” Andy said, “Time to get ready for bed and head off to dreamland so Santa can come.”

“Ok!” She said, hopping up and heading into the bathroom to brush her teeth and change.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her that willing to go to bed before.” You laughed.

Your parents said goodnight and headed to their room, and Jacob went and got ready for bed after Ava was finished.

When both kids were ready for bed you went in to tuck Ava into bed.

“Mommy, can Jacob read me a bedtime story first?” Ava asked.

“That’s up to him, Monkey.” You said, “But off to sleep you go after one story.”

“I’ll read to you, Kiddo.” Jacob agreed. “Goodnight Bri.”

“Goodnight Jacob,” You smiled, “You’re already such an amazing big brother.”

“She makes it easy.” He shrugged, smiling bashfully.

“Good night Mommy!” Ava said, “I love you!”

“Goodnight, Monkey.” You replied, “I love you too. And I love you, Jacob.”

“Love you too.” He said smiling and grabbing a book to read to Ava.

You backed out of their room, quietly closing the door, and headed to your room to change and help Andy get everything set up for Ava for morning from Santa.

“Just when I think I can’t possibly love you any more than I already do, you go and prove me wrong.” You said wrapping your arms around Andy’s waist from behind and dropping a kiss on his shoulder blade. He turned in your arms and cupped your face gently in his hands, leaning down to kiss you softly.

“I love you too, Sweetheart.” He replied, leaning in to capture your lips again.

“How did I get so lucky that I get forever with you, my incredible fiance?” You asked.

“The luck is all mine, my beautiful future wife.” He replied.

Smiling, you both set to work filling stockings and getting all the gifts and Santa gifts under the tree. When you were about done, you noticed Andy pulling a small box out of a Disney bag that you didn’t remember picking up.

“I wanted to ask you something.” Andy said, looking almost as nervous as when he proposed.

“I already said, ‘Yes’.” You teased him.

“And I’m really glad you did, or this would be super awkward” He laughed, letting out a breath he’d been holding and sitting down on the bed. “I saw this necklace the day that I found your ring, and immediately knew I was going to get it for Ava. I know that by getting married, we are both gaining another child. I love Ava as if she were already mine, and I wanted to ask you, before asking her, if once we’re married, if I could legally adopt her? I want her to officially be my daughter.”

“Andy, of course you can!” You said, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. “I love that you love her and want to adopt her. And I know she’ll be ecstatic when you ask her. She already looks at you like her dad.”

“Think she’ll like the necklace?” He asked, opening the box to show you. Inside the box was a delicate silver chain with a locket and tiara charm. You carefully opened the locket and inside there was a tiny picture of the two of them that’d been taken at her birthday party on one side and on the other side it said ‘Daddy’s Princess’.

“She will love it.” You confirmed, “Almost as much as she already loves you.” You put the necklace back into the box and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss him. “You’re perfect, my love.”

“Far from perfect, but given a lifetime with you, I may get closer to it.” He replied.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning you were woken up to Ava bounding into your room and jumping onto the bed.

“SANTA CAME!” She exclaimed, “WAKE UP! WAKE UP! IT’S CHRISTMAS!”

“We’re awake, Princess.” Andy laughed, grabbing her and pulling her down between the two of you, tickling her. “Give us a minute and we’ll be right out to see what Santa left for you.”

“HURRY!” She ordered, laughing and running off into the common area.

“Guess that’s our wake up call.” You laughed, looking at the clock next to the bed. “At least she waited until 6:30. Last year she had me up at 5.”

“I have a feeling Jacob may have been keeping her contained for a bit.” Andy guessed.

“That would make more sense.” You agreed, “Let’s go before she comes back in.”

The two of you made your way out the other room. You stopped quickly to start coffee on your way.

“Ok, dig into the stockings” You said, “Everything else waits until Nana and Papa are over here.”

You all looked through your stockings, loving the variety of treats, and small gifts that filled each one. While you were all engaged in stockings your parents came over and joined you all.

“YAY!” Ava said happily, running over to hug her grandparents. “Nana and Papa are here so we can open ALL the presents!”

“To be young and have that much energy again.” Your dad laughed.

“You’re not wrong.” Andy agreed, “If we could bottle an ounce of her energy we could make millions.”

“I don’t know if I could even handle THAT much energy.” Your mom replied.

“Alright Monkey, we’ll do presents and then breakfast” You said.

Lots of paper and ribbons later, you were down to the last couple of gifts. Jacob handed you a package at the same time that Andy handed Ava the small box.

“This is for you Princess.” Andy said. He sat down next to hear while she tore the wrapping off and opened the box.

“It’s BEAUTIFUL!” She exclaimed, beaming at Andy. “Thank you so much!”

“Open it, Monkey.” You encouraged her, tears already filling your eyes. Knowing something big was about to happen, your mom had her cell phone out recording the moment.

Ava carefully opened up the locket and saw the picture of her and Andy from her party. She was still new with reading but was good at sounding things out, and could recognize words she was more familiar with, so you weren’t surprised when she was able to read the inside of the locket.

“Daddy’s Little Princess.” She read aloud, slowly and quietly. She paused for a moment, then looked up at Andy, then to you. You nodded to her encouragingly. “You… want to be my... Daddy?”

“I very much want to be your Daddy, Princess.” Andy said, his voice thick with  emotion, “If that’s OK with you?”

“YES!” She exclaimed, launching herself into his arms, her own winding around his neck tightly. “I love you, Daddy!”

“I love you too, Princess.” He replied, tears slipping down his cheeks. Your own were wet with tears, as well. Your heart was bursting with happiness. “Your mommy and I talked and she said that I could adopt you. That means officially you’ll be my daughter too, and as soon as Mommy and I are married, we can change both hers and your last name to Barber.”

“And Jacob will be my brother for REAL?” She asked happily.

“I’m already your brother for real Kiddo.” Jacob said coming over to hug her.

“Yes he is.” Andy confirmed.

“Bri, open yours next.” Jacob said.

You smiled, picking up the package again and carefully unwrapping it. You opened the box and moved the tissue paper aside. Nestled in the paper was a bracelet with several charms on it. You looked at the charms closely, tears once more springing to your eyes.  In the middle was a charm that said ‘Mom’, with the O being minnie mouse. On each side of that charm were birthstone charms. One for Ava and one for Jacob.

“Jacob…” you said, your voice horse from emotion, “this is so beautiful. Thank You!” You reach over and pull him into a hug.

“There’s more” he whispered as he hugged you back. He pulled away and you looked back down into the box. Tucked in with the bracelet was a folded up piece of paper. You took it out, carefully unfolding it. After the first few lines you read you realized what you were reading. Your head shot up and you caught Andy’s eye over Jacob’s head. He had tears still gathered in his eyes and he nodded slightly, letting you know he knew about the paper. You assumed Andy had been responsible for having the paper formally drafted, but it was a petition of adoption.

“Jacob…” You said, “If you’re sure this is what you want, I would be honored to adopt you and be your mom. I love you, Sweetheart.”

“I’m sure.” He said firmly, “I love you too. You’ve been more of a mom to me in the last 5 months than my biological mother was in 14 years. I know what a mom is supposed to be since I met you.”

You hugged him tightly, as though you could put all his pieces back together again in that one hug. You knew it would take time, but you swore you’d help to undo the damage that Laurie had done to him.

“I think this has been the best Christmas in a long time.” Your dad said, voice breaking with emotion.

“There’s only the best yet to come.” Andy said, sitting next to you and Jacob with Ava on his lap.

“Papa is right!” Ava declared, “I wished on my birthday candles that we’d be a real family, and then I asked Santa this year to make Andy my Daddy and Jacob my big brother!”

“It looks like the birthday Fairy and Santa delivered then huh, Monkey?” You said, beaming at your daughter.

“Yup!” She agreed. “I think next, I’ll wish for a baby brother or sister!” Everyone burst out laughing. You and Andy looked at each other over her head, you’re sure your eyes were as big as saucers. He just winked and smiled.

 @nickysurfer28​ @jamielea81​ @fluffymisha97​ @waywardodysseys​ @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss​

[trashboi413]

the story of "the wonderbread guy" (because tumblr pc wont let me reblog the post i made for some reason)

alright so buckle up kids, this is a long one that im mostly copiying from know your meme.

About Murrlogic1's Wonder Bread Fetish DeviantArt Commissions also referred to as DeviantArt Wonder Bread guy, is an internet personality who has commissioned animations of rich women shopping for many loaves of Wonder Bread. He has also commissioned artists to create pictures of women destroying forests and filling up their Hummers with gasoline. Murrlogic has been in conversation with artists and commentators on KiwiFarms and Reddit since 2016. Report ad

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📷 Origin On March 18th, 2016, Murrlogic1[11] uploaded one of their first images to DeviantArt[1] titled "A gated White Bread community" (show below). He describes the image in a post saying,Asami and Winter decide to create gender roles for themselves. Winter stays at home and does all the cooking and cleaning HOWEVER since that is a huge job she also has the authority to intimidate, abuse, and berate all the other slaves who do that anyway. Winter just wants extra brownie points. Meanwhile, Asami begins to treat Winter not as a person but as property as she frequently demands her to work around the clock nonstop to fulfill her every first world problem For instance, Asami has the food palette of a 5 year old. She refuses to eat anything that isn't spongy and soft like Bleached factory sliced Wonder bread. She also wants her white bread drenched in mayonnaise to help fulfill that stereotype of being a white supremicist who wishes to exterminate all the subhuman water benders (Korra being on that list.) Winter obediently begins production of hundreds of Wonder Bread Sandwich factories tirelessly pumping the air around them with copious amounts of Co2. Report ad

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He absolutely was not just a normal guy with a weird kink. This shit was his life pretty much. He had lots of talk about consumerism, slavery, and capitalism and why there were all good things. Almost to the point of a religion to him. He tried talking to me about his commission of a comic of, I believe, Asami cutting down a rainforest and industrializing it, and like weird undertone of loving sandwhiches. Everything he talked about in this aspect came down to sandwhiches with him. Spread In 2016 and 2017, murrlogic1 continued to commission thousands of dollars worth of art pieces involving Wonder Bread. For example, on September 30th, 2017, Murrlogic1 posted a commissioned work to DeviantArt[2] which featured two blonde-haired white women at a "$andwich Land" theme park and a "deforestation roller-coaster" (shown below).📷On March 3rd, 2018, Tumblr[3] user joyfulattic claimed to know and have spoken to murrlogic1 and wrote in a a post that: Report ad

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He has spent thousands of dollars if not more on commissions for Asami abusing Korra Asami owning a sandwich factory and slave labor Blonde women own sandwhich factories and cutting down large expanses of forests And the list goes on to other really strange stuff, but none of it inherently sexual The only time I’ve known something sexual was his commission for shadman, which was, to the best of my memory, him asking Shadman to draw Korra and Asami abuse porn with like focus on Korra having a limp dick, that’s the most I remember from the screenshots he showed of his conversation with shadman, which he did show off and talk about how unprofessional shadman was for refusing to draw his commission. The way he fucking talks is just something mind blowing to see a man this far stuck in his own little hole. On a more dark and serious subject, he has been fired from his job and possibly disowned from his family for this kinda stuff. He talked about assaulting, sexually assaulting, and insulting the race or sexuality of his coworkers. People caught on he was kinda fucked up, and emailed his boss over that stuff and got him fired. I got to watch as he complained about it and the entire forum that he was on talking about it blew up for a good solid 2 hours over how fucked up this guy is for thinking he did nothing wrong, and him insulting everyone. It was absolutely bonkers. Please do not give Murrlogic commissions, his money isn’t worth being associated with this man. Over all he is a very disgusting person and while it’s fun to point and laugh, he is really not someone who should be given the time of day.

Over the next few years, Murrlogic1 conducted AMAs both on Reddit[6] and DeviantArt[4] in which he discussed his attraction to the themes vaguely."My 1st job I had was at a job called Bounty Farm which was funded and supervised by an organization referred to as "Petaluma People Services Center."I met my now Ex-GF at this place. When I was finally ready to go to her old apartment in Rohnert Park and she let me touch her tits while we watched Howl's Moving Castle they reminded me of Wonder Bread since I was trying to pinpoint what the texture of breasts reminded me of the most and Wonder Bread came the closest."On March 8th, 2018, Scared Sheep revealed the Wonder Bread Guy to be Michael McKay of Santa Rosa California in a KiwiFarms[5] forum. Murrlogic1 then responded to the thread using the name Damien6.[10]

i should mention that shadman (known for drawing loli porn, and generally being a huge dick) refused his commision

[bilgisticallykosher]

Superheroes in Retail

Aka Oh god I am the maple syrup drowned enemies

Masterpost | AO3 link

Hey, remember that time Lime posted a fake fic titles meme, then I accidentally posted half of this as a reblog because tumblr mobile bamboozled me and then I said I'd post this after no content November but then didn't realize December was now?

Warnings: Blood and bruises.

Word count: 1,140

Virgil had definitely seen and experienced a lot in his short life. He'd crashed a local parade in costume, spreading a wave of chaos and fear throughout the city, block by block. He'd faced down a horde of black Friday shoppers the day after an accidental two-for-one coupon had been printed in the circular. He'd even come in third place in a talent contest that he hadn't even entered in the first place. 

But now, well, he was in a Situation. It deserved the capital letter. He'd just been innocently stocking shelves, on the late shift as usual, trying desperately to fade into the background so customers wouldn't bother him, to no such luck. He visibly cringed as he heard the damnable automatic doors open and someone call out to him. 

"Ex...cuse...me..." the customer wheezed out. Virgil sighed to himself, assuming that this idiot had run all the way to the store to get his late night bulk maple syrup that was on sale to put onto his breakfast foods, or use as moisturizer, or chug shots of, or drown his enemies in, or whatever. Maybe he'd just ask Virgil several times where an item was, while staring the giant signage for said item dead-on.

He plastered on his best customer service smile, which he was proud to say was not that good, and turned. 

"Hello, how may I help oh my god." And there, clutching onto the caution wet floor sign (which, it wasn't, he had no idea why they left it by the entrance,) was one of his mortal enemies. 

Okay, maybe that was a little dramatic, but it was one of the heroes that was always trying to best him and save innocent people and prevent him from doing his evil deeds and blah, blah, whatever they were always prattling on about. He knew, in fact, that it was SuperNerd, or whatever he was actually called, because he was still in costume... mostly.

The right arm of his suit had been completely torn off. On top of that, he was bleeding from several different cuts, and had a big gash on his leg. From what he could see of his face, it looked like he had a nasty bruise, too. He had bruises other places, and looked generally roughed up, and his costume frayed. 

Virgil gulped. Okay, so there was no way he knew who he was. Even if he did, Virgil had no impact on why he was so beaten up right now. This was just a coincidence. An unfortunate coincidence. A very big, bad, unfortunate coincidence. 

He idly wondered where Dudley Do-Right and His Royal Whineness were, and damn, that was a good one he'd have to remember that for another time. The trio was almost always together, whether staking out a place, or working together to defeat him, and wasn't that a little overkill, he was only one guy. Although, it was also kind of flattering that they needed the three of them to take him down...

But in the meantime, his harrowed hero was still there, starting to slump over where he stood, one eyelid flickering, ready to close. So, Virgil did the only thing he could think of.

"Hello, sir, welcome to Kalmart, I see you're in need of some assistance," his customer service smile, already strained, twitched a little as he watched the hero jolt at his loud, firm tone. He tried to ignore his instinct to jump behind a building to protect himself from what was sure to be an incoming attack, but then immediately gave in to that instinct as he ducked into the next aisle to grab the first aid kit that was hanging there on the wall. 

He speed-walked back, and all but shoved the kit into his hands as he repeated the 'difficult customer mantra' to himself. CALM; be Calm, Apologize, Listen, and get a Manager.

"I was assaulted in a villainous attack, while attempting to protect the city, and am in dire need of medical assistance." If he weren't so sure he was out of it, Virgil would have sworn that he was being deadpan on purpose. 

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath in and out. Calm. "I'm sorry that you're inconvenienced." Apologize. "If you could describe your problem to me, then I could do my best to resolve it." Virgil watched as the hero blinked slowly, then his head lolled to one side, as he peered his eyes together, squinting at him. 

"I'm sorry that that's happened to you, sir," Apologize again for good measure, "and rest assured, we'll make sure you get the medical treatment you need," Listen, "I'll just need to get my manager, he'll be more than happy to help you." Get. A. Manager.

"Wh-" But Virgil had already swiftly turned around and walked away. As he headed towards the breakroom, he stopped by the customer service desk where his manager was tiredly explaining to a woman that she couldn't get the product she wanted, because the factory had temporarily closed, therefore they didn't have any in the store. 

"Excuse me, sorry to interrupt," Virgil interrupted, not sorry at all, even as the woman glared at him, "but there appears to be a superhero bleeding out by the paper goods, if you'd like to take care of that." Remy leaned forward, peering past the shockingly long line considering the late hour, until he spotted the hero, still dripping onto the tile. 

"Well, do you know when they're getting it in, then?!" She huffed, "I came all the way out, it was a forty minute drive, just for it, could you call me when it comes in?"

The effect was instantaneous, Remy stood bolt upright, already stumbling out from behind the counter.

"Bitch, why didn't you page me, this is important, I swear if you're pranking me, I'm moving you to the customer service desk for a year," he pulled out his personal store intercom, hitting an extension, and slammed the 'Sorry, we're closed' sign down on the counter. He ran, speaking into his device, calling for someone with access to an outside line. 

Virgil shoved his hands in his pockets, continuing the leisurely stroll to the breakroom. He pushed through the door, then swung around to the phone, letting it close behind him. He picked up the reciever, punching in the extension for store-wide announcements. 

"Maintenance," his voice was light and smooth, "please report to aisle ten for a biological spill, maintenance, aisle ten for biological spill, thank you." As he hung up, he knew Remy would probably get him back for that, but, he flopped into a chair, kicking his feet up onto another one, he decided it was worth it. 

-----

Fun game, try and pick out which of these things are based on my real life job in a supermarket.

Taglist from the Repository and from anyone who expressed interest in the concept in the original post.

@demoniccheese83 @thatgaydemigodnerd @arya-skywalker @rainbowbowtie ​ @aceawkwardunicorn @lookingforaplacetosleep @katelynn-a-fan @dwbh888 @royal-stormcloud @thefivecalls @brain-deadx0 @the-grounded-raven @just-your-typical-trans-guy @grouptalekindnesssoul @the-hoely-bleach @anvil527up @fanficloverinthesun @idont-freaking-know @entitydark @llamaly @psychosnowfox @picazos-angsty-typist @enby-phoenix @callboxkat

[flourchildwrites]

“I want all my alchemists, current and former, to lay low for the time being while we reassess the State Alchemy program. I am here to ask what you want in return for your service and your discretion.”

Behind the reflective surface of his horn-rimmed glasses, Grumman’s eyes shift to the foot of Alphonse’s bed where Izumi’s cookbook sits open. “Your just deserts, as it were,” he adds with a smirk.

Alphonse doesn’t have to ponder what their plans are.

“All we want is to go home, sir, to Resembool,” Alphonse answers. He smiles to lighten the mood; loose skin pulls around the corners of his grin. “And I’d also like to see a few friends. Maybe try some of the foods from my list before we leave Central."

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga

Relationships & Characters: Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric, Izumi Curtis/Sig Curtis, Gracia Hughes, Elicia Hughes, Grumman, Winry Rockbell, Pinako Rockbell

Genre: Character Study, Post-Promised Day, Recovery, Just Deserts

Trigger Warnings: Underweight Character

Rating: G

Word Count: 2,967 words (Complete)

A/N: I'm incredibly excited to share the fic I wrote for @fmacookbookzine, Tastes of Amestris! Most of the desserts mentioned in the story have recipes in the cookbook. I owe a special thanks to the zine moderator as well as my betas, Tas and @vino-and-doggos. I appreciate kudos, bookmarks, subscriptions, comments, likes, and reblogs if you feel so inclined.

Kintsugi is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum. The repair becomes part of the object’s history and enhances its beauty.

...

There is a plate in the china cabinet of Pinako’s kitchen that Alphonse likes best. It looks the same as the others with pale pink vines looping along the fluted rim. Yet, this particular piece is set apart from the rest. Once cracked in half, Alphonse’s favorite plate has a vein of gold that binds the fractured parts together.

He was there when it happened on Winry’s sixth birthday. Ms. Sarah assembled an unorthodox birthday dessert in honor of the occasion, an elegant presentation of fresh berries, whipped cream, and puffs of baked meringue. The final touch was a pinch of mint, and once combined, Winry gazed excitedly at her mother’s handiwork stacked atop the fine china. In her wonder, the child’s footing faltered.

All told, it was an everyday accident that had Pinako tutting softly under her breath as she picked up the pieces; however, precious little went to waste in the Rockbell household—a place where broken things (and sometimes people) came to be restored. With the conscience of a healer and the precision of a surgeon, Granny carefully glued the jagged edges together with golden lacquer. Raised lines stuck out along the break and dried, leaving the piece even more beautiful for the story it had to tell.

When Alphonse looks in the mirror now, his face also tells a story. Though, he thinks that it is not a tale the hospital staff wants to hear. They are thankful for the large red letters that read ‘CONFIDENTIAL’ stamped across his medical chart. They look away from the sunken eyes and gaunt cheeks that stare back at Alphonse from the mirror Sig is holding for him. Each time Alphonse sees himself, he half expects to confront a gunmetal helmet with half-moon holes glowing red and horizontal vents instead of gutting cheekbones. The reality is disorienting but not unwelcome.

Like the metallic bond holding together his favorite plate, Alphonse likes the way his golden eyes gleam with the satisfaction of seeing his and Edward’s bodies restored. All except for his brother’s leg, and perhaps Edward does not regret that loss. It was a price paid-in-full for the people the Elric brothers helped and the lesson they learned, albeit the hard way.

Alphonse’s fingers tremble as he grasps the razor. He glances up from the mirror to the burly bear of a man holding it. “Press the razor to your face and gently pull upward,” Sig kindly instructs. “Let it do the work for you.”

The young man nods and does as instructed, ready to savor the task of shaving for the first time with the most patient person as his teacher. Alphonse takes his first pull of the razor, and it glides across his upper lip with little resistance until, at the very end, his hand trembles again.

He feels a sharp sensation, and while examining his visage in the mirror, Alphonse notices a red mark above the corner of his mouth mingled with traces of shaving cream. Sig holds out a handkerchief.

“You should have seen my first attempt. You did well,” Sig says with a pleasant grin.

A warmth fills Alphonse’s hospital room, crammed with four people who function as a family, just as they did back in Dublith. Edward reclines on the bed next to his brother with his arms stretched lazily behind his trademark braid. Izumi watches the exchange between her husband and Alphonse with a small smile, barely keeping up the pretense of reading her recipe book. She keeps her vigil at Alphonse and Ed’s bedside despite her injuries.

There’s a staccato series of knocks on the door. Between the abrupt sound and the sudden appearance of an officer drenched in Amestrian blue, the spell of domesticity is broken. It is replaced by a colder reality: Ed and Alphonse Elric are being kept by the military. They remain unsure who is being protected from whom and to what end.

Their guard straightens up. A sheen of sweat collects on his brows and the collar of his woolen uniform. His voice is strained as he pulls up into a rigid salute to address Ed. The Fullmetal Alchemist cocks his brow incredulously at the formal display.

“Sorry to intrude, Major Elric,” the officer finally announces, “Mr. Alphonse Elric. You have a visitor.”

“A visitor?” Ed parrots; a sharp remark is already on the tip of his pitchy tongue. “If it’s that Colonel Bastard, again, you can tell him-”

“It’s not Colonel Mustang,” the officer interrupts. “It’s Genera- I mean Führer Grumman.”

The collective attention of the room turns as a shorter, older man emerges from behind the guard. He moves slowly and smiles through his thick, white mustache. The deep blue of his immaculate uniform contrasts the faded fabric of the lower-ranking officer ahead of him. Service ribbons in every color weigh down the left side of the gentleman’s long jacket.

“Acting Führer,” he corrects with adroit, disarming syntax. “But then, we’re all friends here. Who cares about a little thing like formalities?”

...

Alphonse scratches at his freshly shaven upper lip as the usual introductions are observed. It seems that Ed will be doing the talking, and with that in mind, Alphonse expects a brief visit. Nevertheless, Grumman paves the way for pleasantries as well as business. Not five minutes into the discussion, Alphonse realizes that the new acting Führer speaks with authority.

It would be wise, Alphonse decides, to listen carefully.

When Führer Grumman asks Izumi and Sig to step out for an afternoon cup of tea, the request is not a suggestion. The strong-willed teacher rises with the help of her husband, and the couple leaves begrudgingly. Alphonse grins sympathetically at them as they exit. It bolsters his confidence when Izumi returns his smile with an assertive nod.

Grumman does not hesitate to fill the seat their teacher vacated. Gravity bears down on Alphonse’s frail shoulders, but he sits as tall as he can.

“The way I hear it, you boys saved the day,” the Führer proclaims, flashing a set of pearly whites. “I’d say my government owes you both a debt of gratitude.”

With all the rough-edged diplomacy he can muster, Ed responds. “Yeah, well, we didn’t do it for the government, old man. And I’m done being a dog of the military. Whatever plans you’ve got in mind, count us out.”

The Führer’s reaction is nearly nonexistent. Instead, he leans against the hardback of the chair and immediately winces.

“Dreadfully uncomfortable,” he announces, shifting forward. Grumman waves a hand to draw the guard in closer. “Be a helpful lad. See that Mrs. Curtis is given more comfortable seating.”

The young officer scurries off, closing the door behind him, and the older gentleman turns his attention toward Alphonse.

“Oh, I understand perfectly. The military will ask nothing further of you if that’s what you want,” he replies. “But the situation we find ourselves in is unusual—a conspiracy in the upper echelons of the government, a nation-wide episode of unconsciousness, the condition of Alphonse’s body, and the inexplicable connection it all has to alchemy. These are the sort of concerns that fuel the rumor mill.”

The older gentleman pauses, idly twisting the ends of his mustache between his fingers as he divulges the political landscape of Amestris.

“I want all my alchemists, current and former, to lay low for the time being while we reassess the State Alchemy program. I am here to ask what you want in return for your service and your discretion.”

Behind the reflective surface of his horn-rimmed glasses, Grumman’s eyes shift to the foot of Alphonse’s bed where Izumi’s cookbook sits open.

“Your just deserts, as it were,” he adds with a smirk.

Alphonse doesn’t have to ponder what their plans are.

“All we want is to go home, sir, to Resembool,” Alphonse answers. He smiles to lighten the mood; loose skin pulls around the corners of his grin. “And I’d also like to see a few friends. Maybe try some of the foods from my list before we leave Central. When I can eat solids again, that is.”

“Your list?” the Führer asks.

“It was in a book he used to keep,” Ed explains. His tone softens, as it always does when he speaks of his brother. “It listed foods he wanted to try when he was inside... Anyway, I think we lost it.”

“I see.”

Grumman’s response is curt. With a final flourish, the old man straightens his cap and rises from the chair. It seems that he’s heard all he needs to hear.

“I’m going to keep an eye on you boys,” he concludes. “Just the one, mind you, for whatever that’s worth. It’s a fine idea for you both to return to Resembool. Recuperate and rest, and when you figure out what you’d like to do with your time, give me a call.”

The old man produces an ivory card from the pocket of his uniform; a phone number is scribbled on the front. The card itself is an innocuous thing, but the peace offering reeks of political maneuvering. Ed frowns as Führer Grumman places the card on the small table between the brothers’ beds. Alphonse is torn, equal parts intrigued and wary of the strings attached to this phone number.

“The good people here tell me that Alphonse will be ready to travel in four months,” Grumman continues. “In the meantime, I’ll see that you are allowed visitors and suitable food that Alphonse would like to become reacquainted with.”

Alphonse focuses on the task at hand. He thinks of the timeline and of the way Edward approached his recovery from the automail installation. A determined glint ignites in his golden eyes, almost glossy with the lacquer of conviction. Alphonse is weak, but his spirit remains tireless.

“I’ll do it in two,” he says.

Edward, only too happy to put the politics of Central City behind them, nods in agreement.

...

A month’s time sees Alphonse with his hair clipped short; his once sunken cheeks have regained some fullness. Edward, Sig, and Izumi have long since been discharged, but they take turns keeping Alphonse company from the spare couch of his hospital room. Just like Führer Grumman promised, it’s more comfortable than the standard chairs, but that doesn’t mean Alphonse is content to linger.

Now more than ever, he’s determined to go home, walking unassisted down Resembool’s roads. However, for the moment, it’s all Alphonse can do to steady his awkward gait by digging his toes into mats and bracing his arms against the parallel bars. He thinks something as simple as walking should come easily; his legs have other ideas. Another fall brings his physical therapy to an end for the day, and Alphonse returns to his hospital room.

He takes the bumps and bruises in stride. He makes it a point to smile at the staff even when their treatments bring him pain alongside progress. From the confines of a wheelchair, Alphonse greets his guard—a man called Doug who likes comic books and whistles to fill the silence. Doug never pries and is quick to look the other way when Ed overstays his official welcome.

“Ready for more visitors?” Doug asks.

Alphonse’s face lights up with anticipation, and he cranes his neck to peer around the doorframe. Tawny brown hair and emerald eyes fill his field of vision as the small body of a precocious child lunges toward him. She nearly jumps into his lap before her mother pulls her back while balancing a covered plate with one arm.

“Elicia! Ms. Gracia!” Alphonse greets. Recognition washes over both visitors' faces at the sound of Alphonse’s voice.

“So that’s what you look like,” Elicia observes. She giggles madly, rocking back and forth from heel to toe.

Alphonse is quick to change the subject; he also refuses to think about the way Elicia’s gregarious nature reminds him of a certain someone.

The visit is pleasant and predictable. Gracia frets about his weight and serves him a double portion of adorable pudding domes that mother and daughter whipped up for the visit. The vanilla concoctions are cleverly molded into cat-shaped faces, painted with slanting eyes and curving mouths. Soft and creamy with a hint of coffee, they are as sweet as Elicia.

Between the confection and the company, Alphone passes an hour or more catching up on life and letting the child bounce between the walls of his hospital room. When mother and daughter depart (with promises to return with quiche), the silence feels harder to swallow. Alphonse cannot help but think of Winry and Pinako, of apple pie and strong coffee mixed with the smell of automail oil.

He wants, more than anything, to go home.

...

The doctors are surprised when Alphonse meets his deadline; Ed, ever faithful, is not. Alphonse leaves Central City General with his head held high and only stops to rest when the hospital is out of sight. His senses are overwhelmed by the feeling of a starched collar against the back of his neck, the pull of a new vest across his chest, and the weight of Grumman’s card in his pocket.

Alphonse follows Ed’s lead through neat cobblestone roads that feel familiar and yet entirely different, steeped in a tactile reality that he can touch, feel, and taste. Thick exhaust from passing cars sticks to the back of his throat on their way to the train station. Yet, the stench is suddenly replaced by delicious aromas wafting from a nearby café.

His rumbling stomach is drawn to a wide store window where rounds of raspberry mousse cake sit proudly on display. Chilled pink and green tinted layers sit beneath a tempting red glaze that appears sticky, smooth, and oh-so delectable. Alphonse imagines that the confection tastes tart and tangy with notes of brandy and pistachios. He wants to charge into the cafe and order every morsel that’s for sale, but his brother has other ideas.

“Better get going,” Ed says, throwing an arm around Alphonse’s shoulders to steer him away from temptation. “We’ve got a train to catch. You’ve been waiting a long time for what Winry’s whipping up.”

Reluctantly, Alphonse tears himself away from the sight but not before committing the name of the confection and the café to memory. He leaves Central swearing that, when the time is right, he’ll be back.

...

Their return isn’t quite as Alphonse imagined. There’s no hero’s welcome; only a few nods of recognition are offered as they make their way down Resembool’s country roads. But as soon as Alphonse sees the Rockbell residence, a place that marks their journey’s end, accolades don’t matter.

Edward offers to carry him, and Alphonse refuses, bracing himself against his walking stick instead. With gratitude, he thinks of the people that have propelled the brothers along their quest—especially the travelers from Xing. He hopes that they, too, made it home.

And in the blink of an eye, their dream is realized. Den pounces upon Alphonse, recognizing him despite the amount of time that has passed. Winry isn’t far behind. She tackles the brothers to the ground and wraps her arms around them. The trio is a mess of blonde hair and tears of joy.

“Dummies, welcome home!” she exclaims, and for now, Alphonse is inclined to believe this is where he belongs. In this home and amongst these people, he intends to reconcile the pieces of himself while his appetite for the sweet things in life returns.

Winry serves him her famed apple pie on the pink porcelain plate, its halves still bound together by golden lacquer. It’s wonderful and not just because of the flaky crust that crumbles under his fork or the cinnamon sweetness of the soft apples. It’s wonderful because, for the first time in a long time, Alphonse is precisely where he wants to be.

...

Many apple pies are shared around Pinako’s dinner table. There are also birthday cakes for Alphonse (two to be exact) and pans of bread pudding served with blueberries and vanilla sauce. He eats and laughs and grows stronger by the day.

When Alphonse looks in the mirror now, he still likes what he sees, and the girls in town tend to agree. His favorite white-collar shirts hint at the toned torso hiding beneath, and his square jaw exudes newfound confidence. Yet, his ambition to make their world a better place remains the same—too loud for a quiet country backdrop.

Alphonse realizes that the path he is meant to walk extends much farther. His studies, inspired by the prospect of adventure and letters from a feisty alkahestress, resonate with the Dragon’s Pulse. Finally, Alphonse is compelled to dial the number scribbled on the back of the old ivory card and is delighted when he’s connected to the nation’s most powerful man straightaway.

“Had your fill of Resembool yet, son?” Führer Grumman asks. “Are you ready to add to that list of yours?”

“Funny you should bring up my list,” Alphonse retorts, more than willing to play Grumman’s game of allusion. “There’s this Xingese dessert that Princess Mei Chang goes on about in her letters, a red bean soup. It would be a shame if I never tried it, don’t you think?”

Grumman chuckles. “Suppose you could use some diplomatic credentials for the trip. Try not to cause an international incident until Mustang takes over.”

The golden glint in Alphonse’s eyes makes no guarantees. His well-mannered innocence is tempered by past mistakes and fused with a gunmetal resolve.

“I can’t make any promises,” he replies.

[strangertheory]

I hope you’re doing well :)

I'm doing okay. Life has its ups and downs.

I haven't been as active on this blog as I used to be, and I'd like to share with you all a little bit of context and what's going on in my life.

(This is a long post in which I'll overshare a bit and dump some of my feelings into paragraph form, so if anyone doesn't feel up to reading a multi-paragraph post about my depression and anxieties don't feel obligated.)

I have been a freelancer for the last three-ish years. I didn't like the way my former employer treated me or other workers, so I quit and I tried running my own business. It was really great at the beginning. Things felt promising. I had (and still have) customers who I love working with and who value my work. It enabled me and my sweetheart to travel and go backpacking and work remotely and see so many places we'd never been and meet so many new people. But no matter what I did, I couldn't figure out how to make my freelance work grow beyond a certain amount of projects at any given time and I was probably not charging enough for my services for a long while. The pandemic hurt a lot of my work too, and many of my customers disappeared while they tried to figure out what they needed to do for themselves too.

I've been incredibly lucky and in spite of things not working out, I had a wonderful few years running my own remote business while traveling and having experiences I never would have otherwise had. But right now I'm searching for new employment and hoping to find an opportunity in a larger company again while also still working for a few customers who still need me and have continued to hire me for projects, and the job search combined with my freelance work and the pandemic and various other personal life events has made life more complicated and more emotionally stressful.

The job search is a discouraging process. The pandemic has been emotionally draining and stressful, but I am very fortunate and I have been fully vaccinated. But the job search is weighing on me a lot emotionally. I swing between feeling confident in myself and my network and my opportunities, and feeling as though there must be something wrong with me and my skill-set and my resume and that I must be going about things all wrong and fearing that after three years of not making enough to pay the bills while freelancing and after draining all of my savings trying to make my own company work that things aren't going to turn around any time soon.

I've also been feeling a deep emotional wound around my relationship with my family. They care about me on a certain level very, very much... but they don't truly love and accept me as who I am, and they're very prejudiced and set in their ways. This has been weighing on me more lately since I'm recognizing that my parents are getting older but I haven't figured out a way to reconcile with them on issues that mean a lot to me. I just want them to love me as I am and accept me for who I am because I love them so much but I'm struggling to figure out if there's anything I can do to change their mindsets or if I'm even ready to try doing more than what I've already done in my efforts to do that, since it would involve even more emotional energy and vulnerability that might not even make a difference or could even make things worse between us. I think I've already tried and done a lot in my effort to encourage them to change their hearts about things, and I probably need to spend more time seeking therapy and making peace with my lack of control over their ideologies and opinions and to make peace with the way they choose to love me even if they're not accepting of every part of who I am. But it's hard.

And I suppose I also have plenty of anxieties around certain aspects of the online Stranger Things fandom itself these days too. That's certainly also a factor in my absence.

I have really enjoyed sharing my ideas and theories with you all, but I don't want my thoughts and feelings and convictions and ideas that I choose to share to provoke any conflict that I don't have the emotional l energy to process in a healthy way.

I might escape this funk at some point and happily return to writing long posts and analyses about ideas that I have. I don't know how long I'm going to feel the need to take a break. When I have so much in my life that I'm already worried about, I am trying to spend my free time in ways that make me feel happy and I suppose right now I'm feeling emotionally vulnerable and unwilling to share my feelings about a story and characters that I'm overly emotionally invested in. I use fiction to escape from my real-world troubles and to find catharsis, but at times (like right now) I slip into being too emotionally invested to the point of connecting too strongly with fictional scenarios and being concerned with the opinions of other fans in ways that impact my wellbeing in a negative way. I need to sometimes step back a bit until I've recentered myself emotionally.

I value the friendships that I have made in this corner of the internet so, so much. Your interest in my ideas and our sharing of our different theories and our mutual fondness for this wonderful series and its characters has brought me a lot of joy and helped me feel less alone in many ways. But when I'm feeling like my family doesn't understand and respect me and I'm feeling alone, I do need to be wary of looking for finding understanding online when there's a certain culture of misunderstanding and drama if I accidentally wade into the wrong online circles that aren't seeking to understand me or seeking to share their thoughts with me in a mutually respectful way but are seeking to feast on social media drama or people who are seeking out someone to be angry at who they don't know and who they can turn into the scapegoat for their own worries. Strangers online aren't always kind and they aren't always willing to remember I'm just another fan and human being.

So with my depression and my increasing anxiety around my relationships and communities both online and offline I've been quieter here lately. I've been trying to spend less time in fandom spaces and trying to get more time outside in the fresh air, get more sleep, spend time with people who I know love me and allow me to feel heard and understood and respected, and figure out what I need for my health and happiness that I'm struggling to find.

I want to reassure you all that I'm very lucky, that I'm very safe, and that I have no worries about food or a place to live or anything like that and that I have a good network of people in my life who will make sure I'm okay. But depression and anxiety and other undiagnosed mental health struggles and unemployment and family issues can weigh on a person.

I'm still here. Thank you for spending time with me in this corner of the internet even if I've been really quiet lately. I still love Stranger Things. I still appreciate the friends I've made here. And maybe I'll return to blogging more regularly and with enthusiasm and joy when we have new content or when season 4 is released. I don't know where I'll be at emotionally later today, tomorrow, or next week. I'm taking things one day at a time. Sometimes I might write about my ideas and reply to Asks, and sometimes I might not. Sometimes I might reblog posts by others that I appreciate, and sometimes I might not post anything at all for a while. Thanks for understanding. ♥️

[thecraftyfoxthewriterscorner]

5 Tips for Developing a Daily Writing Habit

Last month, I set a couple of goals for myself (like most people tend to do at the start of a new year) that I want to achieve over the next year:

1) Write my first novel draft.

2) Write every day.

I can’t say much on my progress on the first goal – most days I feel like I’m splashing about in the deep end of a pool, treading water – but I can say that I’m writing every day. Some days I’m barely scratching a hundred words, and some days I’m blowing past a thousand. (I have yet to breach two thousand words, but I’m hoping to, soon.) There are a few habits I’m developing that’ve been helping me increase my productivity, and will hopefully help me keep this streak of writing every day.

If you’ve been struggling to figure out ways to develop your own daily writing habit, you may find these tips helpful. These tips are focused for fiction writing, but they can be adapted to nonfiction writing as well.

 1) Track your writing days on a calendar.

This is a simple, effective way to keep yourself on track for writing daily. It works best, for me at least, if you have a monthly calendar. It doesn’t matter if the calendar’s big or small, it just has to have all the days of the month visible. At the end of the day, if you’ve done any amount of writing, mark a “\” through that day’s square. The goal is to keep a string of slashes going for as long as possible. You can use stickers or other marks if you’d like.

I feel satisfied, proud even, when I’m able to make a slash through a day, and when I can see rows of slashes over the course of several weeks. It makes me feel like I’m working towards a goal. I haven’t yet set a goal for myself, but once I’ve settled more into the habit of writing daily, I’ll set my first goal to be the completion of my novel. You can set smaller goals if you’d like, and give yourself rewards, such as scheduling a day of binge-watching your favorite streaming service once you meet X-amount of writing days, or treating yourself to your favorite food.

2) Find the time of day you write best.

It’s possible to write at any time of the day, if you put your mind to it. But I do think there are times in the day when the writing comes easier, which is what I mean by this tip. For me, I find the words flow easier at night, in the time after dinner and well into the “burning the midnight oil” time of the night. (I’m a bit of a night-owl, which as other night-owls know, isn’t a lifestyle the rest of the world is kind to. But we make do.)

You can of course write whenever you like, wherever you like, however long or much you like. But it’s easier to come to the writing when you’ve established a time when the words seem to flow out of you, because you’ll be more eager to actually sit down and get those words out.

That’s my take on it, at least. Let me know how it works for you.

Tips 3-5 relate to and may overlap with one another, but I’m listing them as separate tips for reading ease.

3) Read the scene you last wrote before you go to bed.

I’m not saying that you’ll end up dreaming about the last scene you wrote, and wake up in the morning with the next section of dialogue, action, character development, etc. I have dreamt of characters from a story I was working on in a scene before, but I also had a starring role in that scene, which gave me a weird out-of-body experience because I knew I was dreaming about myself being in a dream–  

Anyways, digression aside, I can’t guarantee you’ll dream up anything that can be used in your writing. This activity helps in a more subtle way. Mainly, it helps keep your motivation and momentum to keep writing up. This is especially true if the scene you decided to sleep on is one you’re having difficulty writing. You’ll wake up the next morning refreshed and ready to tackle the scene that’s been giving you so much grief.

And while you may not figure out that problem-scene right from the get-go, you may have at least recharged the problem-solving and creative thinking part of your brain, and brainstormed a few possible directions the scene could go. That’s already a step further in the right direction than you were at the beginning of the day.

4) Think about what you’re writing. All the time.

Even when I’m not writing I’m writing. Or in other words, I’m thinking about what I’m writing. I don’t think I’m alone in doing this – daydreaming is a writer’s best friend. Targeted daydreaming that is, when you’re thinking of which direction to take a specific scene, which scenes you need to include to show one character’s development, how two characters might argue, and anything else you need to think about to keep your story moving forward.

The great part about this activity is that you don’t have to be sitting down at a desk, ready to type or write. You can take a walk, run errands, do chores or whatever else you need to do in your day, and think about your writing. Then, when you reach the point of your day when you have time to sit down and write, you’ll already have an idea of where you want your story to go, and you won’t have to stare at a blank screen and try to come up with something to write just for the sake of writing on the spot.

 5) Be open to inspiration.

Finally, don’t be afraid to find inspiration in other books or other forms of media. Finding inspiration doesn’t mean copy-pasting a scene, lines of dialogue, a character sketch, or anything else, from another book like or unlike yours, or from a TV show or a movie. But don’t be afraid to let yourself be influenced by these works, either.

If you’re stuck in your writing, finding these nuggets of inspiration of how this book or that show did a scene that’s similar to yours can show you different storytelling techniques you can use in your own writing.

I’d like to note that while a daily writing habit is good for discipline and productivity, it should never take over your life at the cost of your health and wellbeing. If you have other priorities and obligations – family, work, etc. – make sure you put those first. The writing will always be there, as long as you have the desire to write.

Feel free to try these tips out, and let me know how it goes! If you have some tips of your own you’d like to share, please do reblog this post and add on to this list.

Happy writing!

- Leah

[purplepints]

Red Cross & Donations during Emergencies

You’re probably going to see a surge in posts about why you should not support Agencies like the American Red Cross because “they refused our donations” or "they steal donations" etc. so please read this first before posting anti-ARC/Non-Profit/etc groups mostly run by volunteers.

PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE REBLOGGING NEGATIVE STUFF ABOUT THOSE GROUPS!!

Okay, let's talk about this. Food stuff first, then clothes, then a list of Things You Can Do.

Pay attention, people, because while our actions during events like Hurricanes or other events can save lives, our half-cocked reblogging of emotional anecdotes can make lives that much harder. I am not going to claim that the Red Cross (or any other similar Organization) are perfect or unproblematic, but I will say that it is better to light a candle than to refuse to provide batteries for a flashlight. Provide the names of groups you are donating to and the PayPal or site where those groups are accepting monetary donations, don't just fill timelines with anti-Whomever stuff without providing alternatives. Moving on to the Big Questions.....

WHY DO THEY REFUSE FOOD?

— Food can be dangerous.

Think about it. Kids have nut allergies, people are lactose intolerant, the dish could have been sitting somewhere for hours growing bacteria....

— Food can be divisive.

Think about it. Who gets the fantastic homemade lasagna and who has to be content with a bag lunch? Who makes that decision? What about areas populated by people with religious dietary restrictions? Are the items kosher or halal or vegetarian? Worse yet, could someone donate items to locations having high numbers of immigrants, people of color, Muslims, Jews, Sikhs, LGBTQ, etc. that were made with the intent to harm groups of people?

Do you see how all of this could be a problem?

It is simply too much of a risk to trust that every person who cooks something followed all safety guidelines regarding ingredients, can provide accurate lists of ALL the ingredients (and no, not just "1/2 cup vegetable oil", because there could be differences between brands, someone may use olive oil or canola oil exclusively, or simply not think to mention that while they made the dish with ABC Brand 100% Canola, they sprayed the casserole pan with Pam or greased it with XYZ Brand Margarine) AND would leave their name & contact info in case people get ill from eating their food.

Businesses like restaurants have to follow certain guidelines and accept the risks, but private individuals? Not so much. Too many shelters/distribution locations simply don't have the fridges/freezers needed to store perishable foods for the number of people they are trying to help and are using what space they do have to store things like breast milk, formula, insulin, etc. Some shelters/locations are in places that face loss of electricity, disruption of utilities, you name it. They may or may not have generators. They may or may not have the resources to plate & provide utensils to every person. They may or may not have dishwashers or just several large sinks to clean dishes, and they can't just shove dirty dishes into a corner for people to come retrieve. Even if they do have sinks, they probably don't have the manpower to assign toward labeling dishes, storing them, reheating them, serving them and cleaning dishes/kitchen/etc to avoid contaminating other food.

Hate to bring this up, but it should be mentioned that many of those places also lack the bathroom facilities to handle the influx of victims, so a few dozen people coming down with salmonella (which, fun fact, can be spread by touching items which were touched by an infected person who wasn't as diligent as they could have been while washing their hands) or other common ailments caused by eating undercooked, poorly preserved or cross-contaminated items, especially in situations where clean water could be in short supply ...well. I think you can imagine how that would be an issue.

WHY DO THEY REFUSE CLOTHING?

— Clothing uses a lot of resources.

Think about it and you'll see similar problems to the ones regarding food. Some people are allergic to certain detergents, break into rashes when encountering pet dander or have other sensitivities.

— Like food, safety is a concern.

A lot of the clothing donated to shelters/organizations is nowhere close to new or in the ballpark of used: it skips directly to awful and most of it isn't laundered. Claims that all the items have been laundered doesn't change the fact that it has to be laundered again before it can be given to anyone due to the aforementioned issues. If possible, donate new, packaged unisex things like t-shirts. Leave the fancy stuff, out-of-season stuff and dress clothing at home unless you're told they are looking to collect heels, thick sweaters, ties, etc.

Laundering aside, the condition of items can be unbelievable. Pants with broken zippers or large holes in the crotch/butt, single socks, old promotional shirts covered in stains and holes, tops & bottoms stretched out or with blown seams. Soiled clothing (every kind of thing you can imagine), scuffed up individual high heels, bras with wires poking through other items, old prom dresses spilling sequins everywhere and all of this is shoved in garbage bags or boxes willy-nilly along with other random items....it is astounding what people will drop off with an attitude of "it's better than nothing" while failing to realize that all of those bags and boxes have to be sorted, laundered, grouped (child/adult, then sizes), then distributed. This is all worse than nothing and only eats up resources better spent on getting people help they actually need.

Again, many shelters/locations have a limited amount of resources and storage space. They may or may not have access to laundry machines. They may or may not have rooms to set up for sorting, nor space to keep the items for any amount of time. The volunteer hours spent digging through clothing hardly good enough for a rag bag would be much better spent on other tasks that can improve the lives of people impacted by these disasters.

WHAT YOU CAN DO:

If you want to provide food or clothing for people but don't want to donate money to the Red Cross/Other Large Organizations, here are some suggestions :

*** First, ALWAYS make sure to contact locations/groups and LISTEN when they tell you what they need! ***

FOOD:

* See if any restaurants are looking for volunteers to help prepare or deliver meals.

* Ask groups you're already involved with to host a shop-along to supply people returning to their homes with staple groceries. [Even if homes were not flooded or damaged, power outages could cause a total loss of all products in refrigerators and the majority of people who rent apartments do not have any type of insurance policy that pays to replace food.]

* Ask if specific items like bottles, sippy cups or reusable water bottles are needed, or if the location could use a reliable fridge/mini-fridge for storing insulin or breast milk, or offer up a hot plates or electric kettle that can be used to to boil water or prepare small amounts of food for ppl with special diets.

* Get with schools that have teaching kitchens (think Home Ec) and offer to help cook or buy supplies for use: this could provide parents who need a bit of time to check their property or fill out paperwork with that time while providing their child with an activity that results in cookies. Offer to do the same thing with entire families through the schools in the evenings, because a few hours away from a shelter, a hot meal and a bit of privacy can mean so much in times like these.

CLOTHING:

* If a group says they are accepting clothing, please only donate items without damage, without stains and make sure to ask if the location needs clothes hangers, special kind of detergents, mesh laundry bags for distribution, etc. If you have large-load capacity machines, offer use of them if you're close to the shelter or can lend them for a brief time.

* Most groups will ask you to only donate underwear and socks that are new and still in their packaging. Most groups don't receive new underwear and socks in packaging and I don't know of any group that will distribute used underwear or socks, so please think about providing child & adult sizes of those items.

* Consider a group effort to help specific groups of people: gather up gently used business/business casual attire for young adults seeking new jobs or returning to work; maternity clothing for all stages of pregnancy; or look into providing steel-toe boots, work gloves, jackets and safety vests for people involved in cleanup efforts.

* Look into sponsoring a future family event that was delayed by the emergency. Provide a dress and suits for a wedding, pairs of cleats for a soccer team, changes of school uniforms or go the services route by offering your own skills as a photographer, hairdresser, tailor, whatever, for free (or form a group that can provide several interconnected skills to work together over, say, 6 months-1 year post event for free or discounted for X amount of events) or at cost/discount.

* Ask groups if they need fabric or findings for arts & crafts and offer to bring items ready to go: bags of buttons, t-shirts cut into yarn, denim or other fabrics cut into sizes requested, etc. You'll be able to thin out your closet and provide a useful thing that can be used to craft a handy item or teach a new skill. This also applies to other art supplies & school supplies, as children in shelters aren't attending school and/or need an outlet for their feelings.

MISC:

** Masks, shower curtains, hygiene prpdicts: having mass shelter happening during this covid-19 breakout is a triple nightmare, so if you sew masks or have extra masks in any size offer them to the mass shelters.

* Different groups of people have different needs. Groups having more children may need more baby wipes or diapers ; groups having more seniors may need mobility aids ; groups having people with natural hair may need different shampoo ; groups having more autistic or special needs may need sense-friendly items, and so on. Help is “one size fits most” deal in many areas of care (like shelter, food) but there are many individuals who need something specific. Ask, listen, provide.

* Groups are almost always in need of translators, not just for adults & help with paperwork or other concerns, but to watch, entertain or otherwise provide assistance for children. If you are fluent in another language (or have books/movies in different languages) contact agencies and let them know.

* We rely on cellphones & electronic devices for much of our communication, so chargers, charger cords, battery banks, working phones and even laptops could help people find their families. Mobile wi-fi and pre-paid phone cards are things to consider, too. Battery or plug-in speakers with Bluetooth could be used for storytime or dance activities with children or audio books for adults, basically any extra electronics you have that are

fairly modern and can play video/audio would be a godsend. Older phones that have been factory reset while still able to work on modern system could help greatly, so call/check with providers and see if any older models you have will still connect & if they are doing anything with the phones themselves re: redistribution.

* Totes, backpacks, duffels and other reusable, durable bags can come in handy. Ziplocs too, to keep items dry. Often people only stay at a shelter for a few days while they're working on other arrangements so it's nice to have everything packed and secure as well as offer a bit of pride and normality rather than making everyone use hefty bags to carry their stuff.

* If you are a notary public or someone with special knowledge pertaining to documents, mortgages, bank accounts, medical POA, etc call and see if your services could be handy for people. A lot of victims lose their birth certificates and other important documents and will need help reestablishing their identity and proofs of ownership.

Most importantly, please make sure people you know understand that there are ways for everyone to help! There are reasons why certain things are not accepted, and it is frustrating, but keep in mind there are other ways to give. Right now, focus on ways you can help and encourage people you know to join your efforts. Please focus on what we can do to help!!

[raysofcrosby]

LITTLE DO YOU KNOW PT. 9

"𝘐 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘺 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘴, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦." ━ 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫

gif credit (x)

series masterlist

requested: yes | no

warnings: cussing and angst, but nothing else tbh.

word count: 5,294 [of un-proofread material lol sorry]

authors note: HI EVERYONE!!! First off, I just want to wish you all a Happy Holiday season! I honestly didn’t think i was going to get anything out, but work has been extremely stressful and i needed to write and voila, part 9 lmfao. there’s only three more parts of the series left and i can’t believe it’s almost over! thank you to anyone who’s reblogged, liked, sent in a message, written in their tags or even took the time to read any part of this series– i love you all. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you all! I hope you all have an amazing day and enjoy part 9!

Avoiding Jamie and Tyler after the shitshow that took place in Tyler's house Friday night, was your number one priority. Thankfully, the Stars were out of town in Nashville and weren't due to come back to Dallas until early Sunday morning. You weren't sure if Tyler still wanted you to watch the dogs, so the next morning after everything happened, you took an uber to his place. When you walked inside to feed the dogs and take them on their walk, they were nowhere to be found. You walked around the house, whistling and even going as far as to squeaking Gerry's favorite toy– but no sound of paws against the floor or the jingling of their collars. When you went to leave, the front door opened and John walked in, holding onto the three dogs' leashes. He looked surprised to see you and the moment the two of you made eye contact, you realized that he knew.

And it was obvious that your dog sitting services were no longer needed, so you rushed back to campus and practically locked yourself in a library study room, throwing yourself into studying for your last final.

If you thought back on it hard enough, you weren't sure if that was the final straw that jutted the metaphorical knife deeper into your stomach or what happened Sunday night when Big Rig came over. You had once again, spent the entire day throwing yourself into studying for your finals and by the time you returned back to your dorm room, Kennedy was ordering dinner in for her and Big Rig.

You hadn't meant to completely shut her out, but you honestly felt a little embarrassed at how everything came crumbling down. Tyler had yet to reach out, he pretty much fired you from taking care of the dogs, you're pretty sure that your brother pretty much disowned you...and Kennedy, though not as straight-forward, had warned you of it all. The last thing you wanted to do was feel worse than you did now...though that logic isn't working, because well, you were feeling pretty shitty.

Kennedy was your best friend for a reason and she knew better than anyone that when you were ready to talk about it all, you would. So, unfortunately for her, but lucky for you, she was dealing with your sadness with grace– aka by not complaining when you had your playlist blasting through your headphones or not commenting on how you were watching the notebook one too many a time.

By the time Big Rig had arrived at your dorm, you had shut off your computer for the night, buried yourself beneath the covers, rolled yourself towards the wall and had been trying to fall asleep for almost an hour. You thought that you'd be able to eventually fall asleep, maybe while they were just going to watch Criminal Minds and eat some dinner, but the moment that their hushed whispers grew a little louder, there was no hope.

"How is she doing?" He asked, talking softly as he kicked his shoes off onto the floor and hopped onto her bed, his tall and heavy frame causing it to buckle beneath him.

"Honestly? Not so good. " Kennedy sighed and you could feel her gaze lingering on your back. "Neither Jamie or Tyler have talked to her. She's been either spending all her time studying, blasting sad breakup songs, skimming through The Notebook or sleeping."

"Oh shit...The Notebook?"

Kennedy was silent but climbed onto her bed as Big Rig shifted and unloaded the delivery bag. "I even called her mom earlier, just to give her a heads up before she came home for Christmas in case she notices that two of her kids aren't talking. And then right after, Jordie reached out to me because Y/N wasn't answering him and neither was Jamie. So, I filled him in too."

You couldn't even be angry at her for the fact that she told both your mom and Jordie about what had happened. Firstly, the two of them already had some sort of clue as to what was going on between you and Tyler. Secondly, once again, she was just being your best friend and looking out for your best interest– plus now you didn't have to have that awkward conversation once you went home.

"Yeah, Jamie's uh..." Big Rig cleared his throat and you could tell that he was either trying to avoid talking about something or just trying to figure out how to say it.

"Was it bad yesterday?"

"Horrible," he sighed and shifted on the bed again, probably lying back. "Everyone knows."

"Everyone knows?" She asked, the confusion in her voice evident. "As in...they know about Y/N and Tyler?"

"They know everything."

"Jesus Christ! Is Jamie that fucking petty and pissed that he went and blabbered about it to the whole team?" She caught her voice elevating and stopped, placing their food off to the side. "I'm going to kill him. What an asshole and to do that to his own–"

"It wasn't Jamie."

"Then who–"

"Well, I mean, Bish was with Jamie when he...walked in on the two of them, so Jamie told Bish– but he already kind of had a feeling because Jamie said something about it." Big Rig cleared his throat again. "But no, it was some fan account on Instagram for wags, I guess?"

"Explain, now."

You heard him sigh and you contemplated making it known that you were wide awake, but you had to admit to yourself that you were a little bit interested.

"So it some small fan account for wags of the team, I guess. Anyway, so they make a post and they have pictures of Y/N and Tyler from nights we all went to the bar, to pictures of him picking her up from A.B.C. and even his Halloween party. It was like... spam of almost 10 pictures and you can see how close they are and it's not hard to guess that they have something going on."

"Okay, and how does this tie into the whole team finding out?"

"Everyone got tagged in it. Players, girlfriends, wives, I think even Tyler's family and Y/N too. By the time the plane took off, it was kind of common knowledge."

Your heart was racing against your chest and it felt like it could explode at any minute. Everyone on the team and their significant others knew, which meant the coaches and training staff probably knew. How the hell were you supposed to show your face in the locker room tomorrow without wanting to just disappear into thin air?

"Shit, this is pretty much Worst-case scenario. How is she supposed to walk into a room and treat them all for their weak bones when they all know about her and Tyler?" Kennedy sighed her gaze on you.

"I mean...I don't think anyone judges her for it, because she's still Y/N to them, you know?"

"It doesn't matter, J. Even if she's still just Y/N, they'll still probably look at her and think– 'oh wow, she's been boning our teammate. there's another notch on the belt.' And I know they're your friends, but with Tyler's reputation and all males sharing the same brain– you can't tell me that it's not true."

Big Rig was silent for a few moments before deciding to speak again. "The game was even worse. He and Tyler are barely speaking, the tension between them on the ice was obvious as hell. Add in the confusion with Montgomery being fired and the Instagram was the cherry on top of a Sunday that nobody wants."

"Was it that bad? The two of them?"

"A few of the guys and I were talking on the plane ride back and we're all afraid that something is going to happen at practice or in the middle of a game or something and the tension between them with just make the two of them implode."

"And that would be another worst-case scenario come true," Kennedy sighed again. "God, this is such a mess."

That was all you were able to stand before you sat yourself up and turned towards the two of them. You took in their shocked appearances and you knew that they had thought you were asleep and that if you weren't they wouldn't have had this entire conversation with you in the room.

"I'm sorry," you said, your bottom lip starting to tremble no matter how hard you tried to fight it. "It's all my fault that everything is so messed up because I'm just some stupid little girl with a stupid crush and I ruined a friendship and your team chemistry."

Kennedy looked at Big Rig and got up off of her bed and walked over to your bed. "This is in no way, shape or form your fault, Y/N. I want you to get that through your head right now. " She grabbed one of your hands and tugged on it, causing you to look at her. "Tyler is a big boy, he knew what he was doing and he knew the consequences of his actions. So you are not going to put the full blame on yourself."

"She's right," Big Rig spoke up, sitting up in her bed. "Besides, I don't think that they hate each other. I just think that Jamie is probably a little bit embarrassed because he feels like everyone knew what was going on and he didn't. Especially since Jordie and Bish both had their suspicions about it."

"See?" Kennedy smiled, squeezing your hand again. "Your big brother is just letting his itty bitty man pride get in the way of his common sense."

"He probably also thinks that Tyler was taking advantage of you," he cleared his throat, and his cheeks turned a hint of pink at his insinuation of yours and Tyler's relationship. "Especially since he's older and that Jamie trusted him to be like a brother to you whenever he wasn't around."

As comforting as they tried to make their words, they did nothing but only make you feel worse and that you were responsible for everything that had happened. You sniffled and shook your head, looking at the two of them. "I don't think I can finish the internship, not when everybody knows."

Kennedy was about to say something, only to be cut off by the sound of Big Rig's feet thumping against the floor. He had hopped off of the bed and nudged Kennedy to the side, standing in front of you. He tilted your chin up and made you look at him, seriousness written all over his face. "Absolutely fucking not. You are not going to let some tatted doofus make you quit, okay? This is your dream and as your second best friend, I'll be damned if I let you quit, got it?"

"Got it." You smiled and nodded as Kennedy reached in and wiped a tear from your cheek.

Big Rig smiled and patted the side of your cheek. "Good, now come eat some of this food with us."

❒❒❒❒

It turns out that your little bonding night with Big Rig and Kennedy was exactly what you needed. It wasn't a magical cure to fix everything, but it made you fall asleep a little easier that night. And when you woke up the next morning, you were ready to take on your last final just before you'd head off to the arena for the game. When you sat down to take your final, you felt confident in yourself and slightly more relaxed and at ease than you had been the last two days. However, that all changed the moment your Physiology and Anatomy final was placed in front of you and the time to take your test began. It was smooth sailing up until halfway through when you came upon a question that brought out a memory from your many study sessions with Tyler.

For this particular question, you had to identify and label abdominopelvic quadrants, then their divisions, as well as the planes of the body. And the moment you stared at the outlined body and the lines waiting to be filled and identified, your eyes brimmed with tears at the memory of Tyler.

How when you walked into his house that afternoon and ready to study, he was already making the two of you lunch– 'brain food for my brainiac!' And when it came time to label the quadrants and planes, you realized you had forgotten the sheet your professor had given you, at your dorm. Tyler, being as brazen as he was, stood up off of the couch, took off his shirt, held out his arms to his sides, looked at you with a crooked, goofy grin and said, 'go ahead, paint on me like one of your french boys.' And when you corrected him on what the actual movie quote was supposed to be, he just stuck his tongue out at you and said, 'turn me into a masterpiece.' And it took every bit of self-restraint that you had in your body to refrain from telling him that he already was.

When you wrapped up your final and started to make your way to your dorm room to meet Big Rig so the two of you could head to the arena, your next big dilemma crossed your mind: all of the dorms were closing in two days and you had nowhere to stay. You were originally supposed to stay with Jamie and Katie at his place until the two of you were going to fly home together, but you doubt that's an option anymore. But that was another problem for another day and you weren't going to worry about it until later because your only important issue today, would be how you would carry on in the training room today.

When it came time to enter the training room, Big Rig offered to walk in with you, but you told him that if you were going to do this, you would do it yourself and then you ushered him off towards the locker room. You expected your feet to move towards the door and open it before walking inside, but the longer you stared at it, the more frozen you were. You could hear the muffled voices mingling together on the other side of the door, which only made your heart race and the knot in your stomach tangle and tightens. The locker room door opened behind you and you froze, hoping that it wasn't Jamie or Tyler.

"You're still standing here?"

You turned to look at Big Rig, who was now dressed down from his suit and wearing some shorts and a shirt. "You act like I've been standing here for ten minutes."

"Try five, Y/N." He sighed and walked ahead of you, pushing the door halfway open and turning to you, nodding his head towards the door. "Come on, if there's one person who's one-hundred percent on your side, it's me."

You wanted to run into him and hug him tight, but you settled with thanking the Universe for sending Jamie Oleksiak your way before you followed him into the training room. As expected, the immediate conversation stalls, but only for a short second before it picks back up again. And if you weren't so focused on noticing any kind of difference, you might not have noticed that it paused at all. One thing that was extremely obvious though, was the way that all of the boys were looking at you. Sure, they were friendly, that's their character– but you could still see it in every pair of eyes, the fact that they knew about you and Tyler.

And you couldn't help but feel like they were judging you for it.

Klinger was the first one to come up to you while you were preparing Big Rig for his stretches, and you just had an overwhelming urge to hug the swede, but you resisted. "How did your final go, Y/N?" He asked, stopping by and leaning against the table Big Rig was sitting on.

It felt like things might ease back into normality, just based on his normal question and the conversations going on around you– it was like a weight off of your shoulders. "I bet that you aced it," Big Rig said, poking at you with his foot. "You're the genius Benn after all. You and Jenny must have the brains because I don't know what Jordie and Jamie got."

Right, when you went to reply, the door opened and on instinct, you turned to see who walked in. When you saw it was Jamie, it was as if every eye in the room was focused on the two of you. Jamie didn't bother to look your way, making his way over to the cabinet to grab some ibuprofen. "How did your final go?" He asked, his back turned to you and his voice void of any emotion.

"I think I did pretty good," you replied, feeling awkward as he kept his back to you before turning away and walking over towards another table, not even bothering to reply. You turned your attention to Klinger and gave him a small smile. "Thank you for asking, Klinger." You spoke softly.

He gave you a nod and patted your shoulder before going off back into the locker room. Everything felt fine and the awkward tension eased slightly as you went on helping Big Rig with his stretches. Sure, because of Jamie's presence, there was still a slight stir on tension as if everyone was expecting the two of you to implode right then and there– but it wasn't anything that couldn't be easily ignored. However, when the door opened again, this time Tyler walked through and it was like the air was sucked out of the room.

You felt yourself freeze as you went to adjust the band around Big Rig's foot and he tapped his foot against your hand, causing you to look at him. He took a deep breath and then breathed out slowly before nodding his head. You nodded back, still feeling everyone's eyes switching between focusing on you and focusing on Tyler. After you adjusted the band, you went over to your desk, instinctively picking up athletic tape before sitting down in your chair, waiting for someone else to ask for help.

"Hey, John, how long do you think you'll be?" Tyler asked, barely brushing by Jamie to grab a heating pad before pacing it onto his shoulder.

"What do you want done?" John replied, looking up from a separate cabinet.

"My ankles?"

"Give me two and I can help."

Tyler nodded, adjusting the heating pad before walking right back out of the locker room, not even bothering to look in your direction. You were crushed and fighting like hell not to have it show on your face as you sat in your chair, gripping the athletic tape tightly. Soon, tapping your foot against the floor became another way to prevent yourself from giving in to your emotions and before you knew it, Bishop was calling for your attention at Big Rig's table as he hopped off. "Yeah?"

"Can you come over for a second? I need you to help me tape my thumb for me real quick." You walked over, your supplies already in hand and stood in front of the goalie. "How are you doing?"

"Good, especially now that classes are done," you smiled, exhaling lightly. "Now I get to relax...sort of."

"No, Y/N," he said, looking around the room before leaning in closer. "How are you really doing?" The way he raised an eyebrow slightly, gave you a hint as to what he was asking.

You were slightly embarrassed that he was asking you, but at least he wasn't being so blunt and loud about it. "Embarrassed, sad," your eyes lingered away from taping his thumb and over to your brother, who had a focused and zoned in look on his face. "Is disowned too dramatic?"

He laughs lightly, but his lack of answer lets you know that your feelings are completely valid. "I'm sorry by the way," you apologized, cutting the athletic tape. "For making things awkward around here."

"They're grown men, they'll figure it out," he shrugged, watching as you finished taping his thumb. "Don't worry about that, worry about you."

"Do you think I made a mistake?" You asked as he hopped off of the table.

He looks like he wants to say yes, or maybe you're just overthinking it. He shrugs his shoulders and gives you a half-smile. "Is it a mistake if it makes you happy?"

His reply lingered in your mind as you watched him leave the room before returning to your chair. You placed your supplies onto the desk and spun yourself around to face the wall, thinking about what he said and for once, not feeling all too guilty about your decision.

❒❒❒❒

You've never been happier at the fact that you had to stay in the training room during a game. You took solace in the quiet as the muffled music, announcements and cheers were on the other side of the door. Normally, you'd spend this time studying, but since you were done with all of your finals...you had nothing to do but play on your phone, make sure that the training room was clean and of course help any player who came in with something John sent them back to you for.

The game wasn't going so well the second period was almost over and Dallas was down 2-0. Kennedy was sitting with Katie and sending you updates on how Big Rig was doing, but other than that, you were too busy watching random videos on youtube. You're watching one of those astrological card reading videos when you hear the announcers muffled voices yelling about a hit, a fight and then bickering. By the time you were fully able to focus and take out the one headphone, they were done announcing it and the crowd was roaring– a mix of boos and cheers, you couldn't tell. Right when you went to go back to your video, a text message from Kennedy popped up.

"j took a high stick to the face, ty went to go fight the guy who kept trying to go back after j."

"j and ty arguing...it looks ugly."

You clicked on the message, ready to reply and ask for a more specific update when the locker room door swings open violently and Tyler walks in with a pissed look all over his face and blood on his jersey. You weren't sure if it was trainer mode, friend mode or that your feelings were coming into play, but you left your phone on your desk and ran over to him. "Holy shit, Tyler are you okay?"

He looked as if he was mumbling to himself, the anger still evident on his face as he ignored your question. "I'm just going to take your helmet off for you," you said, reaching up to grab his helmet. "Just to make sure the blood isn't coming from–"

As if he snapped back into focus, he stumbled back, looking at you. "Don't touch me!"

You were startled at how loud and angry he sounded. You've never seen him this angry outside of a hockey game, so seeing it first hand right now, was terrifying. But you needed to do your job, so you weren't backing down. "No, I need to check to make sure that your head isn’t bleeding, Tyler. So just let me–"

"Just– don't!" He said, this time glaring at you, the anger on his face still there, but the look in his eyes softening the moment they took in the slight fear on your face. "God, you're acting like...like," he waved his hand in the air as if the words he was looking for were there to catch. "Like some obsessed hook up!"

Your jaw dropped and as if he just understood the words that left his mouth, the anger started to fade off of his face and for a moment, he looked like he might apologize.

The door swung open again, this time Jamie walking in and stopping just a little into the room. His eyes took in just how close the two of you were standing together and he scoffed. "Of fucking course."

Tyler spun around and pointed at Jamie. "Oh shut the fuck up, Jamie. I stood up for your ass just now."

"You think fighting Draisaitl is sticking up for me when you're the reason why he made that fucking comment?" Jamie yelled, his voice getting deeper, something that always happened whenever he got angry. "You wouldn't have to 'stand up for me' if you were focused and knew where to pass the damn puck instead of daydreaming about getting laid!"

"Guys, stop!" You said, trying to move past Tyler to get in between the two grown men, a huge sense of deja vu washing over you. "Jamie, are you okay?"

"Oh, now you seem to care what I think? Where was this before you started sleeping with my best friend?" And there it was, the aggression pointing towards you– the real reason why he was probably upset anyway.

"I asked if you were okay, not for your fucking opinion column, Jamie." You sniped, reaching up and taking off his helmet before tossing it onto a table and going towards where the suture kit was kept so you could pull it out for whoever was coming in to stitch him up. "You have a cut on your forehead.”

"I am focused on this game, so fuck you, Jamie!"

"Really?" Jamie scoffed, shaking his head. "So you're not focused on the fact that you're gonna go home with Maisy and probably get laid tonight?"

You froze, just as you turned back with the suture kit and glue in hand– that one name sending you into a small panic. You looked to Tyler before looking at Jamie, who was just shaking his head. "Oh Y/N, you didn't know? Maisy's here. You know who Maisy is, you remember?"

Tyler shook his head. "What are you–"

"Don't even play coy, Seguin. Katie texted me before the game and said she bumped into Maisy, who coincidentally is sitting in the same seats that you got her last year."

At this point, you felt like you were going to be sick. You had asked Tyler about Maisy and he told you everything. How yeah, she was one of his main hook-ups last season, that he cut it off completely in the summer, it was never super serious and that they haven't talked since.

But Maisy was here in the same seats Tyler gave her last season and Tyler wasn't arguing back...so maybe he didn't tell you everything.

"Why is that, Tyler?" Jamie asked, raising his eyebrows. "Why is Maisy here? Did you get what you wanted from my little sister so you went back to–"

Tyler lunged at Jamie just as Craig walked into the room. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! What the hell is going on?" He asked, looking at you as the two fuming hockey players stood apart from one another.

Jamie and Tyler say nothing, only moving onto opposite tables as Craig points Jamie to sit down. "Y/N, can you help Tyler with gluing that cut? It shouldn't be too much."

It felt like your entire body was throbbing as you stood there, still trying to take in the information that Jamie just shared. You looked at Jamie who was fuming and glaring at Tyler. And when you looked at Tyler, his anger was written all over his face, but there was something else mixed in that you couldn't quite pinpoint. When you finally looked at Craig, you shook your head. "I think I'm going to be sick."

You pushed the kit into his chest before running out of the training room and down the hallway, finding the nearest restroom. When you locked yourself inside of a stall, you hunched over the toilet, the tears falling from your eyes and into the toilet bowl as the sobs wrecked you. Everything seemed like it would be okay, but what had just happened in the game tonight and in the training room– proved otherwise. There's no way you'd be able to complete this internship in one piece. You went to reach for your phone to text Kennedy, but only then did you realize that it was sitting on your desk.

There's no way you'd be able to go back into that room with Jamie and Tyler being there together– you wouldn't survive. And it turns out, bathrooms make pretty good hiding spots.

By the time you had deemed the coast to be clear, you made your way back into the training room once the third period started and you knew no one would be in it. When you walked into the empty room, you sent Kennedy a text, asking her to meet you in the hall after the game and then you spent the rest of your time wishing that the game would just end.

The Stars lost 2-1 and Tyler scored a goal in the third. Once upon a time, not too long ago, Tyler would've joked that he scored that goal for you– 'his number one fan beside his mom'– but now you couldn't help but let your mind wander over into if he ever told Maisy the same.

As promised, Kennedy met you in the hallway with Katie by her side. Katie was explaining all of last season of the Maisy and Tyler saga to you and Kennedy, but you wanted no part of it, so you zoned yourself out, staring at the end of the tunnel, wondering if you'd see her walk down this way. By the time both Jamie and Big Rig came out of the locker room, there was still no sign of Maisy and you couldn't help but wonder if she was waiting out there for Tyler or even if at all.

"Y/N, are you coming home with us?" Katie asked, giving you a friendly smile and ignoring the glare in her direction that was coming from your brother.

You weren't ignoring it though and though it was there, you knew how to read your brother and beneath that glare were hints of sadness. But you didn't care, you were still angry at him for the stunt he pulled in the training room and sad at the fact that up until today, he hadn't bothered to talk to you– and even then, it was aggressive. You looked at Big Rig and nodded your head in his direction. "No, they're just going to drop me off before they go to his place."

Your walk from the hallway and through security and parking to Big Rig's car felt like a blur as Kennedy and Big Rig were focused on their conversation. As you got into the back of the car, you leaned forward between the passenger and driver's seats. "I sent my mentor an email during the game tonight and I have a meeting with her on Thursday to talk about the required hours of my internship and see if I've met them yet."

Kennedy turned back to face you so fast, you were sure she was going to have whiplash. Big Rig, as clueless as ever, looked between you and Kennedy. "What does that mean?"

Kennedy kept looking at you, raising an eyebrow and you just nodded. She sighed and turned to Big Rig. "It means she's done being your trainer."

[always-and-forever-a-killjoy]

Building Home Chapter 4

Hey fuckers and welcome to another chapter of Building Home! I've decided to switch to posting on Saturdays because Fridays are always chaotic, just a heads up, but I'll still be posting regularly for at least another six weeks, hopefully longer if I get my ass together enough to write the last six chapters of this in those six weeks (or at least like, Chapter 11 and 12). Anyways, the song for last week was so big/so small from dear evan hansen. This week's isn't quite so tricky, I don't think!

Title: Building Home

Chapter Title: I’ll keep you safe inside

Chapter Wordcount: 2263

Chapter Summary:

The crew settles into living with Autumn Assassin and the house of soup crew, and the Analog Wars suck ass.

POV: Dr. Death Defying

Warnings: Injury mentions, death mentions.. (If you want to know what parts to skip, go to the end notes on AO3- I also put a brief summary of any important info in those parts. Stay safe!)

Taglist: @wishiwasthemoon-tonight @sleevesareforlosers @stressed-depressed-emo-mess @tasteofamnesia @dagger-queen​ @no-braincells-here @piratecherricola (message me, send an ask, or reblog/reply to one of my posts if you want to be added or removed)

AO3 Link

Chapter 1 AO3 Link

Chapter 1 Tumblr Post

Chapter 2 Tumblr Post

Chapter 3 Tumblr Post

(Actual fic under the cut)

They stayed with Autumn Assassin for a while longer, talking with the killjoys of the household and generally having a better time than just living alone. It was a little strange to have three of them in one small room, but none of them minded much. 

“I shared a room with my sister in Battery City,” Cherri Cola told the others. D restrained any surprise from showing on his face- Cherri almost never volunteered information about himself, and especially not his past. It was something killjoys didn’t talk about much and rarely shared with anyone except their crew. So D just nodded in acceptance.

“D and I are used to sharing,” Lily agreed. “So we’ll just have to stick it out,”

Autumn Assassin, meanwhile, had taken Cherri under their wing. They had the common trait of being an excellent shot, and Autumn had managed to get him a much nicer ray gun. 

“Scarecrow model,” They informed him. 

Cherri nodded as they positioned his hands on the new ray gun. “Right. Look around what you’re aiming at, keep your hands in this position and steady as you can, and don’t hesitate. Hesitation will kill you, kid.”

D was watching the lesson just like he had watched Lily teach Cherri, making sure Autumn wasn’t too rough. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the other killjoy- White Lily trusted them, and that was good enough for him- but he wanted to make sure Cherri’s wound healed properly as well. So he was sitting and watching as they taught Cherri how to shoot better than ever before. Cherri was taking to the lessons eagerly, wanting to learn how to fight. 

“Don’t hesitate,” he repeated, and pulled the trigger. 

Autumn Assassin whooped as the can fell. “Good shot, kid!”

Cherri was grinning as he glanced back at D. “A hundred and sixty.”

“I saw,” D grinned back. “That’s pretty fucking incredible, Cherri.”

“He’s a quick one,” Autumn agreed. “Needs to work on his hand-to-hand combat and reactions in the heat of battle, but he’s a good shot.”

“I’ll do hand to hand if you want to teach me,” Cherri offered quietly.

“Of course I do, kid, you’re a quick learner and frankly a lot of fun to teach.”

Cherri’s grin grew even wider. “I’m seventeen.”

“And I’m almost thirty, what’s your point? You’re a kid to me, even if you kick ass at shooting and probably other things too.”

“Fair.”

“Ready to kick some ass?”

“Yeah!”

“Be careful of your stitches,” D warned, but it wasn’t his place to stop Cherri. 

“I will be, don’t worry. I don’t feel like getting hurt again,” the other said dryly.

“Good, I don’t want you to get hurt either.”

“Overprotective,” Cherri said with an eye roll, but he was smiling. 

“I’d rather not have one of my best friends die because he was an idiot and ripped his stitches, thank you very much.”

“I’ll be careful.”

Cherri was…less than careful, in D’s opinion, but he didn’t rip any stitches while training with Autumn Assassin so that was a something, at least. He did, however, get very good at fighting with a variety of weapons, including but not limited to knives, ray guns, older style guns, and even simple hand-to-hand combat. Autumn Assassin’s name included ‘assassin’ for a reason, and it wasn’t that they could poison people.

Meanwhile, D and Lily dedicated their time to the radio station and recruiting more people. Killjoys had started to settle in other houses and buildings in this little town area, given how intact many of them were. It was becoming a whole little community, arsonists and crash queens living next to medics and some of the most peaceful rebels. So while Autumn Assassin was teaching Cherri to be terrifyingly good at fighting, D and Lily were wandering the area and getting to know the killjoys there.

They met Legolas Greenleaf, fantasy nerd and excellent maker of crepes, apparently, although given that it was the desert they couldn’t really verify that. He and his crew dressed like fantasy elves and kicked draculoid ass while shouting things like ‘dishonor on your lineage!’ and ‘spawn of Morgoth!’. There was also Tommy Chow Mein, who both of them knew from the wars and was running a little general store out of what had once been the town��s general store, and his assistant was a kid called Penny Pincher who had copper-colored hair and was a bit younger than Cherri.

The variety of killjoys in the town ranged from a short, grouchy killjoy who simply went by ‘Fuck’ and was one of the best medics out there to a tall, freckled killjoy called Angel Kisses who was an absolute sweetheart but would absolutely fuck you up. Ages ranged from some of the oldest soldiers of the Helium Wars (“I’m damn near forty.”) to the younger siblings and even children of some killjoys (“She’s a bit under a year, just barely weaned but we had to get her out of Battery City.”) From the news others brought in, they knew this wasn’t the only community of killjoys, but it was by far the largest. Here was where the center of the rebellion would be for another few years, and the unsuspecting Autumn Assassin’s house was at the center of it all.

Their house was already somewhat of a town hub, being the most intact and the one with the most residents, and Autumn Assassin seemed to encourage this.

“What with the amount of people here, we’ve always got extra food, and extra rooms for travelers. We’ve got the resources, might as well use them. And I don’t mind these dumbasses hanging around the living room, they bring some life to the place.” That was what they told D when he asked about it, leaning against the counter as the two of them watched the chaos unfold in their living room like it did almost every day. 

“They certainly do bring life. Also chaos.”

Autumn Assassin cackled. “That’s true. Nothing wrong with a bit of chaos, though. We are killjoys, after all.”

“True, we are.” D frowned. “Do you worry about Lil and I bringing bli down on your head?”

“If you do, we’ll tell them to fuck off.” Their face grew more serious. “I’m not kidding, though, Doctor Death. We give no fucks about Better Living, and we do give some fucks about you and your little crew. I worry a little about putting the younger members of the house in danger, but all of them knew what they were getting into. And all of them know how to fight.”

“I’m assuming you taught them?”

“How did you guess?” Their voice was utterly deadpan. “Not all of them, but yeah. I insist on teaching everyone who comes through some basic hand-to-hand combat and how to shoot a ray gun, if they don’t know. It’s my way of keeping them safe. Like your radio station.”

It was true, 109 in the sky had many goals, but one of them was keeping the killjoys safe and informed. The more they knew about upcoming dangers, the better they could fight back, and WKIL served as a hub of information. Killjoys radioed in or brought news of whatever they had found, from a supply truck that had been raided and had some extra supplies to exterminators coming to the desert. Code words were a part of this too, a cobbled together mixture of killjoy slang and actual code that served as yet another line of defense. Even if Better Living Industries figured out how to listen in, it wasn’t as if they would understand half the words being said, and Dr. Death Defying knew they had to keep it that way. Secrecy was essential to a successful rebellion, as Lily had put it. So the code was an important part of running the radio station, alongside the technology and the consistent news.

Even as they began to travel around again, taking the news van to broadcast from different Zones as a way of confusing Better Living Industries, they continued to return to Autumn Assassin’s house and the town around it as a home base. The room that Autumn Assassin had given them at the very start was theirs permanently now, and Autumn always kept it open for them. Sometimes they would be gone a day or two, sometimes an entire week or even a month or more. It depended on how close they thought Better Living Industries was to catching on, and traveling around seemed to be working as a method of confusing the corporation. In addition to the FM radio station of WKIL, multiple AM stations had sprung up that took the info from D’s daily broadcast and spread it over a wider range. Their signal was much easier to interfere with, which was why the original WKIL was an FM station, but it got the news out to the entirety of the Zones, providing an invaluable service. 

So the rebellion continued to grow, month after month, until the Zones were alive with killjoys and color, loud noise and firefights. Cherri’s training at the hands of Autumn Assassin had only made him more bold, much to D’s worry, but he had to admit that Cherri’s borderline insane antics were a very effective method. He was one of the few killjoys unafraid to fight almost any level of Better Living Industries employee, and one of the most effective at it too.

Lily, meanwhile, was working on organizing larger raids and even attacking Battery City itself. D was her right hand, as always, but he was also occupied with the radio station and other things. So Cherri had stepped partially into their role, accompanying Lily when she went on missions and standing by her side as a very effective deterrent against exterminators. Better Living Industries had intensified their efforts to find Lily and D, and Cherri was now top of their wanted lists as well. He had gone from an unremarkable and frankly unintimidating sixteen-year-old to one of the finest shots in the desert and a highly wanted killjoy, the name Cherri Cola whispered almost as often as you could hear whispers of Dr. Death Defying or White Lily.

He had gained a reputation for being one of few killjoys who usually worked alone, often taking on missions solo (and giving D and Lily a heart attack when he stumbled back in with a stab wound or ray gun shot, bruised and battered). That wouldn’t change until their last few crew members joined up, and even then, Cherri was fiercely independent both as a fighter and a person. He was loyal, that was for sure, willing to fight just about anything for D or Lily, but he would always prefer solo raids or missions.

That scared D shitless, but they couldn’t stop him and they trusted Cherri to keep himself safe, to an extent. He was still more reckless than D or Lily would like, but neither of them could really blame him. 

“I don’t know what he’s running from, but there’s something.” That was Lily, plunking down in a chair next to them.

“We’re all running from something, aren’t we?”

“Dark but true.”

The two of them knew what each other was running from better than anyone else. Both somewhat happy children back in Battery City, there was nothing in their childhood that they ran from, only a faint sense of nostalgia, but the war they had fought in had changed them both in ways they didn’t like to think about. There was a past there to run from, horrors to set right. D knew that Lily had a sense that she needed to put things right, needed to atone in some way for her deeds during the Helium Wars. If that atonement, that fight, took her life, she would accept it as such. 

It might have been selfish of him, but he would not atone. They were trying, of course, to make the world a better place, fighting for the future they believed in, but the past was the past, and D refused to die for the crimes he had committed then. He had fought to survive for long enough that he wasn’t giving up now, regardless of what fate would be just for them. The best they could and would do now was fight for the future, not die for the past. 

It wasn’t easy for him either, watching young killjoys fight and be injured and even die, but he had to believe in what they were fighting and dying for. They would break the stranglehold of Better Living Industries, they would live free and bring the same for their children and all the generations that would come after them. All this wasn’t for nothing.

That was what D told themself as they watched Cherri curl into a ball in the corner of the room, protecting the slash on his side like a wounded animal. That was what they repeated when Lily’s sobs shook the mattress at night, keeping the others awake even if they didn’t dare break the silence of the room. D just prayed the others’ spirits wouldn’t end up as broken as their bodies after claps.

This pattern continued, day after day and week after week as their missions got more dangerous and Cherri grew even more reckless and solitary. It wouldn’t be truly broken until far after the final few members of their crew arrived, but the one who arrived next did by far the most towards that end.