#I feel so bad for the family that flew to LA from New York and didn’t get in

[sokkas-therapist]

Hi hi hi! I have a quick poll question for all the Atla fans that were at Comic Con Revolution today!

If you got in, reblog and put in the tags what time you got in line. If you didn’t, reblog with how long you were in line for, and or what you heard/were told regarding wristband distribution. I’m genuinely curious, lol

Me and a couple hundred other people were in line for over 2 hours and didn’t get in 😭

[letarasstuff]

After a life long Quarantine

(A/N): This was requested by an anon. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing

Summary: How will Matthew's daughter, a so called covid baby, react to seeing real humans aside from her father for the first time?

Wordcount: 1.5k

✨Masterlist✨

_______________________________

Of course there is not a perfect time to have children. You never are going to be completely prepared. There is always something you’ll worry about. Are you going to be a good parent? Is your child going to be healthy? Are you financially stable enough?

All these and more questions flew through Matthew’s head constantly. But before the baby was due to arrive, the world got a little bit more crazy. Stores had to close, masks help you not kill your neighbor and it feels like breathing air could be the reason you die within the next two weeks. In other words: Covid-19 hit and everything kind of went into saving mode.

Subjectively for Matthew having a baby in the middle of a pandemic is the worst time ever. Shortly after going into lockdown the little (Y/N) was born. He was lucky to be able to come with his back then girlfriend into the hospital, he narrowly missed the restriction.

Sadly for the small family (Y/N)’s mother didn’t feel ready to take care of her and just a few weeks after her birth she took her stuff and made a beeline for a carefree life without responsibilities.

For Matthew it was a banger and he had to get used to a completely new day to day life. Still, he is very happy to have his daughter, his sunshine, with him. And secretly he is happy about the pandemic, because the freshly baked father is able to monitor any new progress or milestone (Y/N) has made in her development. He didn’t miss her first conscious smile, laugh or her first words (“Dada” of course, she is a daddy’s girl). The only thing he is concerned about for now will be the separation anxiety when he has to leave her for Kindergarten or work. But this is something Matthew can worry about later.

To be perfectly honest the only surroundings (Y/N) has seen yet is their apartment and the park. He tries to overlap her nap time with his grocery runs, so his daughter is asleep in her stroller while he picks up the things they need. It’s the easiest and most relaxing way without being separated.

Now, nearly a year after her birth, the whole situation slowly lets up. Stores reopen, people are back in the cities and everything seems a little brighter, a little happier. Travel restrictions are banned (still with safety precautions).

Since his baby’s birth he wasn’t able to see his parents in person. Of course they skyped and facetimes as often as possible, but they have yet to meet their grandchild. That’s why Matthew decided to take a roadtrip from New York City to Las Vegas.

His plan is to drive to Texas to visit Thomas and his family and to show his own child off. He knows that the car ride (to San Antonio 27 hours plus 18 to Las Vegas) is long. Luckily Matthew has enough time to plan this road trip and the plane ride back thoroughly and count enough breaks for him and his daughter. There are many fun activities, like visiting several zoos, a waterpark and a fair for example. He wants to show (Y/N) that there are many beautiful spots in the world she has yet to see.

That’s why he gets up at 4 a.m on a Tuesday, gets her and himself ready and is in the rental car at sharp 5 a.m. He wants to get a few miles done before eating lunch in a diner or something on the way, so the father tries to avoid traffic jams, hence the early start.

Luckily (Y/N) falls back asleep as soon as the car starts and doesn’t wake up before noon. “Daddy, I hungwy”, she pouts after jamming with him to several Disney songs he downloaded on a CD. A quick look to the clock confirms that it is in fact time for lunch. “Alright Baby, let Daddy find a nice place and we get food. What do you want?” “NUGGIES!” Matthew laughs and mutters to himself: “Well, that’s not exactly a surprise.”

Soon he finds a sweet diner off the highway and parks in front of it. With a few practised movements he gets (Y/N) out of her car seat and hoisted up on his hip. “You ready to get the little monster inside your tummy fed?” Matthew asks in a silly voice. Giggling she nods her head.

For lunch time the diner is relatively empty, not many tables are occupied. He finds both of them a small booth and sits her down on his lap for the moment. Only now the father spots the amazed look on his daughter’s face. “What is it, Honey?” “Who they?” She points at the various people in the establishment.

Quickly he puts her finger down, muttering how rude it is to point at someone. “They are humans, Baby.” “Omans? Wike us? More us?” Suddenly it hits him:

(Y/N) has never seen anybody else than him. All the other people she met were over the phone. How is she supposed to understand that they are real, too, when the ones on the TV aren’t?

“Yeah, there are many more. We are going to see so many of them. What do you think?” She seems to weigh her options as a nice looking waitress comes up to their table. “Hey Sweeties, what good can I do for you two? Do you need a high chair?” Matthew smiles at her. “Yes, please. We also are ready to order.”

After her departure to get their things, (Y/N) has come to a decision. “Nice all?” Her father nods. “Yes, most of them are as nice as the lady. We are going to see a really good friend of mine and his family, they are even nicer. There are also other kids. And we are going to visit your grandparents, they are also really nice. Are you excited?” An energetic nod is enough for him to know that this was the right decision.

On the next leg of the road trip (Y/N) is too excited to be quiet. She asks her father all sorts of questions. Has he met every human being? What are those, who aren’t nice? Does he like all of them? Are he and she nice people?

Happily he answers every single one of them, being as honest as possible. Matthew hopes that his daughter still turns out to be a people person like he is, even though she wasn’t exposed to many in her first months of life.

The first few days of their trip is pretty promising. They are now at Thomas’ house and especially Agatha is smitten by the little girl. Whenever Matthew is looking for her, both of them are in her room painting each other's nails (though the older one helps her out), playing hairdresser or watching a kids show.

The last 18 hours of the trip are tackled in two days. The main reason is that the little one got hooked on meeting new people and is way too hyped up to wait any longer to see her grandparents. So Matthew cancels a few plans and makes two out of three, he himself is also excited to meet up with his parents again.

“How wong?” (Y/N) asks from the backseat for what feels like the trillionth time. She already watched all of her favorite movies on her little tv in the headrest and due to the uneven street coloring isn’t an option. Luckily the destination is in sight. “Mhh, I think we are there in five minutes.” Children her age don’t have a sense for time yet, he knows that. Still, the father feels bad lying to her.

Finally they pull into the driveway, two people already waiting outside for them. After getting her out Matthew puts (Y/N) on his hip and makes his way over to his parents. “Baby, these are your grandma and grandpa. Can you say hello to them?”

But she tries to wiggle out of his grip, making the smiles on everybody’s faces fall. The father sets her down. Clumsily (Y/N) toddles over to them, colliding with her grandfather’s leg. “Hello, I love you!” She looks up at them sweetly. Her grandma has to restrain herself from letting the tears of happiness fall down.

“Hello there, Baby. We are so happy to finally meet you!” She says to the toddler, who now is in her grandfather’s arms.

It’s in this moment that Matthew decides his daughter is in fact a people person, which he is kind of relieved about, knowing that quarantine hasn’t taken anything from her.

His father shows him to join the group hug, being finally reunited as a family after all this time.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse

MGG:

@mggsprettygirl

[eyoricka]

Secret dating - Pete Davidson x singer!reader

First thing, I am sorry for my rather long absence I was moving to another country and way to stress. But now I have to spend ten days in quarantine so I will try to catch up and write all the asks I received in the meantime. So sorry for the delay and I hope the waiting will worth it!!

Also this is the first part of a small series about Pete x singer!reader because I had few asks on this theme! Hope you will enjoy

 Words: 1600+

Warning: none I guess

You had been dating Pete for few months. You decided to keep it low profile. It wasn’t really a secret; your friends and families were aware that you were together but you didn’t want the whole world to know. You had seen Pete’s debacle with his exes, and he witnessed yours. You both agreed to not to make it public this soon since you wanted to avoid paps, gossips articles, harassment online and to hear everybody’s opinion. You were surprised that no one caught the two of you or speculated on your relationship. Maybe the both of you being friends for years, evolving within the same circle of people helped you. When people saw the two of you strolling, getting ice cream together, no magazines titled about how cute this date was but rather on how good it was for you to have such good friends in your life.

These past couple of weeks, it had been hard to spend some quality time with Pete. You had to flew to LA to assist to the Grammys and you missed your boyfriend so much through out the ceremony. You wished that you could have hold his hands during the stressful waiting, kissed him when you heard your name, thanked him when you gave your acceptance speech or feel his hand drawing absurd figure in your back to relax you while you were waiting to perform. Then after going back to New York, you hadn’t had that much time. Your publicist had packed you with interviews and gigs during late night shows. It was tiring but worth it. Your career was on a clear path to success. You were finally considered as not another pop star but one of the biggest artists out there. Pete was so supportive of you. You lived for his lovely text messages to give you strength before each performance or his compliments on how beautiful you looked on TV, how smart your answers were, how funny you were during an interview game.

You had eventually managed to find an afternoon just for you and Pete. You enjoyed a home-cooked meal at his place and could help but melt every time he was laughing while recounting his week. You simply spend the rest of the afternoon watching cartoons. It was your way to decompress together. Pete would always prepare some snacks while you set everything up. Then you would lose at least ten minutes to choose which cartoons or movies to watch. You usually had long debate on whether SpongeBob was better than Scooby-doo. Pete would always take you in his arms while you were watching, peppering your neck with kisses and smelling your hair. He liked the smell of your shampoo arguing that it reminded him of happiness. That was so cliché and yet so adorable, you couldn’t make fun of this cheesiness.

You were slowly falling asleep engulfed by Pete’s warmth, this was cozy, it felt like home. Suddenly, you heard your phone buzzed and sighed. It was your agent, asking you where you were to pick you up to go an interview. You texted her your address while you looked for something to put on for the TV. You liked very much the clothes you had on but you doubted that their shades would be nice on camera. As you were researching the perfect outfit in underwear, trying on several combo, you congratulated yourself for letting some clothes at your boyfriend’s place. You were hesitating between two tops and asked Pete’s opinion. After a quick joke on how good you looked in underwear and that you probably should go like this, he made up his mind for the baby blue top.

You rushed outside to be picked by your team but not before sharing a sweet but passionate kiss with Pete and agreeing to spend the night at your place after the show. Your team smiled at you knowingly as you entered the car but they didn’t make any comment on your relationship. You discussed the show, the possible questions and what the best answers would be… The ride was pretty quiet after that and you soon arrived at the building where the show was taped. You were warmly welcomed by the host. You had already done some interviews with him, he was easy to talk to, always made you comfortable and was rather fun to be around. He lead you to the make-up artist trailer who didn’t fail to notice your tired look but promised you that it was nothing than a bit of foundation and powder could hide. Indeed, after only 15 minutes there you were glowing, looking fresh, like a fairytale princess leaving her bed.

As you were waiting to be called on stage, you received a message from Pete telling you that he was excited to see you on the show, that no matter what you were the best and that he was eager to see you tonight to finish the nap you had started together. You quickly replied before entering the stage. The interview went rather smoothly. You had begun with questions about your last album and upcoming project teasing a possible collab with Taylor Swift. The crowd went wild at this info and you knew that you would certainly end up in top tweets. After a commercial, you played a game with the host where you had to sing a random song imitating another artist. Clearly, it was not your forte, but you were funny enough to make it a good moment to watch. Then, you proceeded to answers some more interrogations from the public that could be found on social media. Those questions were a lot more personal and globally more focused on your art, compositions, writing skills, inspiration. You were passionate, your eyes were big with enthusiasm and you did a lot of gesture with your hand with made the host smile.

You were so happy that when a question about your dating life came up, you didn’t think twice before saying “Well I am the luckiest person, I have my dream career and dating Pete Davidson is just the cherry on the top, you know. He is just so perfect for me, like me understand and support each other, it just so great when you can share all those moments with someone you love and trust.” As you finished your rant, you noticed how the host was staggered. You finally realized what you had revealed and blushed furiously. “Did you just announce publicly that you are dating SNL cast member Pete Davidson?”. It was like words were dying in your throat and you envisioned Pete’s reaction at this. Surely it was not how you had planned to go public. You nodded shyly and the show stopped there. The host thanks the audience who was visibly thrilled, and you made your way backstage. You compulsively checked your phone every five seconds waiting for a text from your now very public boyfriend. But none came and it was worse. You felt so bad, you never wanted to put him in such a position, you were not sure that he was ready to go public, face the world’s reaction but here you were because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.

Your team drove you back to your place assuring you that it was okay, he couldn’t be mad at you for this but actually he legitimately could. They insist that you should check your social media, people were very supportive of you, saying that you were so cute together, goals… however you didn’t think that it was a good idea right now, you head spinning with the prospect to face Pete.

You silently entered your house waiting for Pete to arrive, a huge lump in your stomach. You felt so guilty, obviously you had to ruin everything, didn’t you. You were in your kitchen drinking a hot cocoa to calm your nerve when you heard Pete unlocked your front door with his spare keys. You didn’t dare to approach him and let him come in the room, your hands shaking so bad that you had spilled some hot beverage on it. You didn’t really feel the burning sensation, you were too scared of what he would say. To make it even more torturing he remained silent as he glanced at you. he eventually approached you and put away your cup as he took your injured hand in his. He put it under cold water and you let him do it, not understanding what was happening. “Do you think that I hate you or that I am angry at you for making it public without talking about it first?” he stated more than questioned as he stood behind you with his hand on yours. “Yes” you sighed looking down. He made you turned to face him and since you were still not looking at him, he put gently his hand on your face and lift it up. His face was so calm and soft, not what you were expecting at all. “I don’t mind, I mean sure it would have been better to discuss it and find a way together to announce it but you didn’t did on purpose. You were just so excited and you didn’t really think of it so I can’t blame you. I certainly would have done the same. Also, how I can be mad at someone who is so cute and so adorable when talking about me. You know what you say about us, it means a lot to me, a lot more than you can imagine. I love you, okay, and I don’t care if the whole world knows as long as you know it.” He smiled down at you and brushed away some tears that you hadn’t realize where rolling down your face. He cusped your cheeks and kissed your forehead as you buried yourself in his shirt.

[wandasleftshoe]

Too Young Too Burn

Mobius x Female Reader

A/N: so my account was deleted lmao and this is a re-upload. this post was originally getting some likes so I decided to repost it, and hopefully this time my stuff doesn’t wack out. But for first time readers, this is my first ever fic lol! I was cracked out on nicotine and red bull when I wrote it, so it might be all over the place. alsooooo if any of u like this, I turned on my asks so feel free to request something! I’ll do any Marvel character, male/female/gender neutral, so feel free to ask lol turns out I enjoy writing

Word Count: 2.5k 

Triggers: bad language, kinda sort angst, a tragedy ending in suicide, death

It started off as a simple school boy crush.

She was a new member to the office, a new analyst that would train alongside Mobius, nothing was supposed to come of it but a friendly coworker relationship. (The only kind of relationship allowed in the office, the Time Lizards have sticks up their asses.) The first day he met her, she was in a standard TVA uniform, beige slacks and a button up shirt of another drab color. Though when she entered the room, an air of confidence came with her, sweeping him off his feet like something out of a Midgard fairytale. She was introduced to him as [y/n] [y/l], newest to the TVA’s section of analysts, preferring to study dangerous variants, much like himself. He was immediately taken by her attention to detail, he felt her eyes studying him the entire time his bosses boss introduced them to each other.

Her attention to detail, as mentioned before, was brought to his attention when she mentioned his hands fiddling with the hem of his blazer. She noted that he didn’t give off a nervous energy, but with the way his hands were going you would have thought that the boss had caught him doing something he wasn’t supposed to. As they continued their conversation, more and more was pointed out that he didn’t even notice himself; she seemed to be a perfect fit for his team.

Their first day consisted of standard paperwork and the general office tour, Mobius introduced her to his boss, Ravonna Renslayer, as well as a strew of other office members they pasted in the hall that Mobius could remember a name for. Let’s be real, he just rambled on so that he could try to forget how kindly she smiled at him and how her eyes twinkled when talking about the job at hand. He thought if he could get past the first day and the excitement of gaining a new coworker, the odd feeling creeping into his heart would go away.

As the day went on and he got to know his new coworker better, he believed the relationship would grow into an unstoppable workforce bond. As the nice coworker he is and to start this unstoppable force off right, he offered to buy her dinner at a restaurant not far from the office (totally not to hang out with her for a little while longer). The time they spent both at the office and eating dinner, Mobius couldn’t quite help but find this new girl fascinating and for lack of a better term, lovely.

But it was just a school boy crush, right?

Time went on, sooner rather than later, Mobius and [y/n] found themselves working together quite often on cases. New cases left and right, most of them being Loki variants, surprise surprise. The more difficult they grew, the more time Mobius spent with the (not so) new girl. Between late nights in the office and many almost death situations, the two found themselves becoming close friends amongst the sea of the neverending bureaucracy. Though still as before, he felt that odd feeling in his heart growing stronger each time she brought him his coffee just the way he liked it or added fuel to his jetski fantasies.

What solidified that feeling in his chest was the night he and [y/n] went on a smaller mission by themselves, July 29th, 1890.

It was a clear night, though somber, both knowing what was supposed to happen. The air was warm and the moon was shining bright over the quiet fields of Auvers-sur-Oise. No, they weren’t looking for a variant of Vincent, he did indeed die tragically in this nexus event. No, no, they were looking for the person who burned all of his paintings in a rage, hence throwing off the timeline. Without the paintings, no memory of Van Gogh would be left for the future, and that’s not how the Time Lizards wanted it to be. So they were there, under the melancholy skies of France.

It was taking longer than planned, they ended up having to spend the night in an old cabin near the edge of the old town. A slow fire burned in the den of the cabin where [y/n] was reading, while Mobius was trying to find some sort of food to keep the two of them from going to bed with their stomachs rumbling. To no avail, there was nothing in the abandoned cabin so he gave in and entered the den of the cabin. There, he was met with the serene and abnormally domestic [y/n] in front of him. Usually the new girl was like a chicken with it’s head cut off; running around the office to put her wild theories to the test or just the general hectic vibe that went along with their job that made her hair stick out on all sides of her head from her running her hands through it in frustration. But this scene sitting quietly in front of him was something he didn’t know he wanted in his life. She was sitting on the ancient furniture with a book in her hands, hair down and surrounding her face in a way that made his heart palpitate. She was relaxed for once, not an ounce of stress weighing on her shoulders as she immersed herself in the world of whatever book she found on the old shelves. He could even see that her work shirt was untucked and her shoes were off, showing off her mix matched socks. He didn’t even know mix matched socks were a thing, but she pulled them off perfectly.

She looked up when he hadn’t said anything for a solid 4 and a half minutes, he was too busy taking in the scene in front of him to notice he was just open mouth staring at her. It didn’t bother her really, though silence with Mobius around was quite unheard of, so she filled it.

“Suis-je trop vieux pour alimenter cette passion et la laisser me consumer - ou suis-je encore trop jeune pour savoir quels dommages cela fera?”

“I’m sorry, w-what?”

“Am I too old to throw fuel onto this passion and let it consume me — or am I still too young to know what damage that will do?” She said again, in english this time. She knew he could understand her, everyone in the TVA could speak and understand a multitude of languages. She just wanted to see what his reaction would be when she said it to him. “It’s a quote from this diary. The person who wrote it was in their mid 20s when they did this entry, they’re writing of their partner. They were in love, but poor and couldn’t afford to be married. The writer got an offer to marry into a wealthy family, but they turned it down, hoping for everything to work out in the end.”

The explanation of the words she spoke before hit Mobius a little harder than they should have, the author of the diary was caught between a rock and hard place. Much like he found himself in right now, even if he refused to believe it before tonight. Seeing the domestic life he could have right in front of him made his head spin, his heart hurt, and his love for his job lessen a bit. He was grateful to the Time Lizards for creating him, for giving him the life he has in the TVA, but seeing what life could be like on Earth startled him. He didn’t know he wanted it until it was right in front of him, taunting him like a cat chasing a laser light. A life on Earth, with the girl sitting right in front of him; that was all he wanted. Jetski be damned (not really, he would love to have a jetski alongside this lifestyle). Even if he couldn’t live a normal life on the Sacred Timeline, he wanted to be with her. After all this time getting to know her and the little details of her soul between official meetings and paperwork piles, he finally realized what that feeling was in this moment.

But he knew it could never happen. Not here, not in the TVA. It simply wasn’t allowed. So he swallowed his feelings, but he never forgot that sweet, peaceful night. They talked, laughed, and even cried together that night, both of them tucking that memory in their hearts and reliving it in times when they most missed the feeling they didn’t know they could miss.

Again, time passed from that night in France, they did eventually catch the variant and reset the timeline. After, they only grew closer as the late nighter grew later and newer, tougher missions appeared on their radar. Their biggest being the Loki variant killing more and more Minute Men, and the case was beginning to take a turn. They brought in a new Loki variant, one front 2012 just after the attack on New York. He was cunning and a very good liar, but he grew on both Mobius and [y/n]. It wasn’t long before they actually found the dangerous Loki variant with 2012 Loki on their side, but he betrayed them and followed the other Loki into the portal, losing both a friend and a lead.

This devastated Mobius, it was his last chance to prove to the Time Lizards that their Loki could be trusted, that he was changing and doing good for the TVA. But he’s a Loki, and they all should have guessed something was going to happen. But they guessed what would happen next.

They found the two variants, out of sheer luck in the Lamentis apocalypse. When both were brought in, it wasn't long before all hell let loose. Mobius found out the TVA was actually just made up of variants, they were all variants, and none of this was what it had been told to them. It was all lies. At first it gutted him, he didn’t believe Loki, but after some snooping, he found out they weren’t lying. Then, hope sparked in his chest. Life without the TVA meant, eventually, he could live out his domestic dream. With the girl of his dreams, [y/n].

With the (fragile) trust in Loki and hope in his heart for a new life with [y/n], he flew into action. He busted Loki out of the loop he had originally put him in, and swapping his Tempad with Renslayer, he now had the proof that Loki was telling the truth. With this renewed faith in his friend, he was going to expose the truth to everyone. They had a right to know, they had a right to their former memories. They had a right to free will.

Only, he didn’t get that far. Suddenly, he and Loki were being escorted to Renslayers office. If there’s one thing about Mobius, he had good intuition, and the feeling he had in his gut was telling him something was very wrong. Of course Renslayer knew he switched their Tempads, he knew he wouldn’t have much time, but it felt like only a matter of minutes before he was caught. He didn’t even have time to go find [y/n] and explain to her what was going on, he didn’t have time to tell her his feelings, and he knew he was going to get pruned if Renslayer found out before he could spread the truth.

But once he stepped into Renslayer’s office, the feeling in his gut froze, sending goosebumps all over his body.

Not only were he and Loki standing in the middle of her office, but so was [y/n]. She was thrashing against G-17, who had her in a chokehold. The scene made his blood boil, [y/n] had no idea what was going on, she was innocent. The thought of anything happening to her gutted him, he wasn’t going to let that happen.

“I uh, I think I grabbed yours by mistake,” he starts out, trying to get out of this smoothly, but he knew Renslayer was going to take that obvious lie, he was no god of mischief. She gave him a cold look that only the devil himself could forge, and ordered D-90 to take the Tempad from him, shaking her head at Mobius in disappointment.

“Mobius, what’s going on?” [y/n] asked, her voice wasn’t faltering, but her usually confident demeanor was gone. She was worried, she knew something bad was going to happen, she knew something was going on with the two variants, it just hadn’t been disclosed how fucked the situation was. All Mobius wanted to do was take her away from this place and tell her what she meant to him. Before anything could happen to him.

“Tell her, Mobius. Tell her how you’ve betrayed the TVA and joined forces with the two Loki Variants. Tell her how you betrayed her trust,” Renslayer says with a silver tongue, looking coldly at not only Loki (the usual) but also Mobius, a look he’s never received from her before on any other occasion than a joke. He could feel his time ticking away, he could only stall so much and there was nothing left to stall. All he had was the truth.

“Look, [y/n], they’re all lying to us. We’re all variants, all of us, they took us from the Timeline. This place- this place isn’t what we think it is.” He says, begging her with his voice to believe him. In all the time they’ve known each other, this is the first time he’s begged her. Though he didn’t need to, [y/n] trusted Mobius with her whole being. Time and time again, she’s saved his ass and he hers. They were bonded in a way she didn’t know was humanly possible, she knew he wouldn’t lie to her. She felt it in her soul he was telling the truth.

“I believe you.” Her voice was soft, even in this terrifying moment, she still found a way to calm him with a gentle smile even as she was being held by the throat.

But that was all taken away when he saw the pointed end of the pruning stick going through her. A guttural roar that escaped him was animalistic, loud enough that surely the entirety of the TVA heard it. Her body was thrown to the ground by D-90, and it took every Minute Men in the room to hold Mobius back from Renslayer. That was it, his whole future ripped away from him right before his eyes, and he didn’t even get to tell her every secret feeling he held for her. No promises of the future they could have together without the TVA. There was nothing left.

He didn’t even hear Renslayer telling one of the Minute Men to prune him through his weeping, and before he knew it, a searing pain took over him.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Disneyland kills annual passes

The early Disney company had several near-death experiences, some due to exogenous shocks and some self-inflicted (bad labor practices, weird technology choices), and all through it, a power struggle between "Roy people" (finance) and "Walt people" (tech/art).

After WWII, the company was transformed, with Roy ascendant and financial discipline the order of the day. Walt - who struggled with depression - sought desperately for an escape from the company.

He came up with plans to outfit a train with traveling exhibits that he would drive around the country, putting thousands of miles between him and his brother.

Another plan called for Walt to build an ambitious model train system and transform his role in the company to showing people around his trains.

In 1953, Walt came up with the plan that stuck: a park called "Disneyland" that would be his own fiefdom, a commercial project that would justify the kinds of R&D and experimentation that Walt doted on and Roy looked on as high-risk, potentially ruinous follies.

There was only one problem: Roy wouldn't authorize the company to bankroll it, so Walt had to fly to New York (far from his brother) to court the Wall Street banks and ask them to foot the bill.

Walt worked with legendary artist Herb Ryman to create an eight-page prospectus with a gorgeous painting to accompany it, and had three copies typed up in the Disney company steno pool and he flew to New York with them.

Only one copy of that prospectus exists today. In 2013, it changed hands at auction, with the winning bid going to noted asshole Glenn Beck, who offered no plans to allow study or exhibition of it.

During that process, I came into possession of a high-resolution scan of that document. I made sure that the Imagineering archivist got a copy - they'd never seen it before - and deposited a long-term public archival copy with the Internet Archive.

https://memex.craphound.com/2014/05/20/disneylands-original-prospectus-revealed/

It's a strange and curious document, but one striking feature is that it conceptualizes Disneyland as a place you might go to not to ride any rides, but just to walk around and enjoy yourself, soaking in the atmosphere (and buy a tropical bird or fish) (no, really).

Reading that, I thought of Walt, with his anxieties and his fraught relationship with his workers and brother, the factionalism that divided his company and his longing for escape, and that iconic photo of Walt strolling through an empty castle, looking perfectly at peace.

From 1955-1982, Disneyland operated on a ticket system. You paid a low price for admission, and then paid for each ride using ticketbooks that rated the rides from A (boring) to E (main attraction) (the system ended due to competition from nearby Knott's Berry Farm).

That low-priced admission ticket meant that locals could easily afford to slip away to Disneyland, stroll the park, maybe buy some junk food or watch a parade, and go home again.

The advent of unlimited-ride admission created demand for annual passes, and discounts for kids and locals made DL into an after-school hangout. Early Disney message-boards raged with arguments over the Orange County goths who hung around Tomorrowland, smoking and glowering.

Annual passes grew and grew. When I first moved to LA in 2006 for a Fulbright chair at USC, I used to teach my classes then drive to Disneyland with my cheap LA resident's pass. I'd park, get a Fastpass for Space Mountain, ride the Haunted Mansion.

Then I'd write part of the novel I was working on in a quiet bench in New Orleans Square, ride Space Mountain once my Fastpass ripened, then I'd go home for dinner.

Annual Passes grew too successful, selling so well they crowded out vacationers on a once-in-a-lifetime trip.

A series of price-hikes did not dampen Annual Pass sales. While repeated doublings of the price raised a lot of revenue, it also created a large cohort of troublesome customers who felt all that money entitled them to white-glove treatment.

Then came a suite of baroque tiers and restrictions on passes, with blackout dates - which made people entitled, confused and cranky.

Then came the pandemic...and the end of the Annual Pass program altogether.

https://www.micechat.com/279966-breaking-news-disneyland-annual-pass-program-ending/

There's lots of reasons that killing the Annual Pass makes sense, but one that's not immediately obvious is that DL is a "happy place" for a lot of people who struggle with the world, like Walt did. Most of us just find a moment of peace in a quiet corner of the park.

But some people exhibit pathological behavior. One family sewed their own Disneyland employee costumes and tried to entrap a ride attendant into an arranged marriage with their daughter!

Most of the problems generated by Annual Passholders aren't that extreme, of course.

But even the smaller problems grow in significance by dint of repetition: the mildly troublesome customer who comes *every day* and makes trouble can quickly grow more than mildly troublesome.

I understand the logic of killing the passes. But I can't help think of Walt, wanting an escape from a bad situation that he'd made worse through his own screw-ups, and then, incredibly, actually pulling it off.

A lot of us have been missing our various happy places since the lockdown, and Disney doubtless anticipates a massive rush when the vaccines have been distributed (they are tapped to be Southern California's largest distribution site).

It feels like someone at Disney thought about just how intense and freaked out some of those returning Annual Passholders were likely to be and decided that the costs (for employees and other visitors) of coping with that outweighed the benefits.

[scorsoneamelia]

would u write one where amelia scout and link fly to LA to visit when he’s still a baby. or maybe new york?

  i hope this is okay, writers block is kicking me in the ass, thank you for this prompt!!!

--

       It wasn’t until the blonde had Amelia’s head in her hands, one hand on each cheek and her thumb was brushing softly on her cheekbone when Amelia realized this was her person. 

        She saved her life — something she’d never admit, but her, and everyone else in Los Angeles that she had the great privilege of knowing had saved her life. They talked her down from an edge that she was so close to falling off of, pulled her out of the deep end, reminded Amelia how strong she is because nobody knew her better than them; her family in Los Angeles that she met at Oceanside Wellness.

         They remember the young girl that had brown hair covering her lifeless and sad eyes with beads of sweat lining her hair line, leg anxiously bouncing up and down. The young girl that spat out hateful comments; comments full of rage and bitterness. They remember the monster that was created, an entirely different person ripping her open at the seams, changing who she was completely, so much to a point where she was unrecognizable.

         The blonde, someone who had become Amelia’s best friend over time had never given up, not once did she ever throw her hands up and think, that’s it, I’ve tried and I give up. Instead it was the opposite, she refused to give up, refused to let her addiction change her into the monster that was so badly trying to take her over, refused to allow her to become worse than she already was. Charlotte though, always saw Amelia in her, they were alike in a way; both strong but both gotten dealt the bad hand.

         Her and Link flew to Los Angeles — mostly because they had a surgery scheduled at the hospital there but they were going to visit her friends, as well. It’s been years, it feeling like a century ago since she last saw them. Her family; her chosen family.

        She was nervous; a good nervous. Nervous because she was a different person, more grown, more responsible than they last saw her. She was glowing, more than she was last time, she looked happy. The happiness was always radiating off of her, showing it in her eyes.

        At the same time, she was excited. Excited to show them who she became, what she has now, how proud was of herself. The nerves were overwhelming, and it was almost enough to make her back out of it. The only reason she pushed it to the side and went anyway, was because Link talked her into it.

        So now, she stood in front of her best friend, her person; Charlotte King. Addison Montgomery; her sister, who she loves deeply. Charlotte had Amelia’s head in her hands, their faces only inches apart and she was brushing a stand of her hair behind her ear. “You’re doing great, Amelia.”

        Addison was kneeling down to look at Scout, who was sat in his stroller and Link was grinning at the four of them. “Amelia,” Addison breathed. “He’s beautiful.”

       Charlotte too was leaning down and reaching for Scout, his hand curling around her pointer finger. “Scout?” Charlotte asked, confirming his name.

       “Scout,” Amelia nodded. “Derek Shepherd-Lincoln.” Addison’s eyes shot up to look at Amelia, hearing her ex-husband’s name obviously drawing her attention away.

        “He’d be proud of you,” Addison said, and her voice was soft; genuine. “I’m proud of you.” It was familiar, it was the same thing Addison had said to her years ago during her recovery. Amelia was smiling, and she forgot how much she missed them; how much she needs them.

       “We both are.” Charlotte agreed, her smile was warm. “You must be the famous Atticus Lincoln,” Charlotte was extending her arm out for him to shake her hand. “Charlotte King.”

       “Baby Daddy.” Amelia corrected, a smile eating away at her face. Although she left and came to Seattle, she missed her friends; the people who knew her better than anybody else. If she could bring them all back to Seattle she would. They were truly her people and she could never thank them enough.

[something-tofightfor]

I would truly like to hear one random HC for each of the characters you write for.

It took me a million and a half years to answer this. I don’t THINK I forgot anyone ... aside  from John and he doesn’t count because I haven’t really written for him yet (don’t tell him that I’ll never hear the end of it). I also didn’t include Ben because I have about a million HCs for him based on what he posts on the Internet. 

PS: ENJOY THE LAST ONE.

Logan: 

Here Comes the Sun-iverse: This is probably already kind of known based on Hands to Yourself, but Logan doesn’t like to back down from a bet. He’s stubborn as hell when it comes to finding a way to win and to be right… but when it comes to you, he’s even worse. It’s not because he wants to prove you wrong or anything like that, it’s because he’s so used to being competitive at work that it’s hard for him to leave it at the office. Not that you mind, because most of your bets lead to the two of you having a very enjoyable time together. 

Ink: As a surprise for you after you healed completely from your kidnapping and won the court case, Logan flew Asher (and his family) in to LA for a week at Disney … and so that you could have a private session with him. Logan hadn’t thought of something else that he wanted, but was more than happy to invite Asher + the family to his house for the night, and even though most of the session was Asher touching up places that had been marred by the desert sun, you also added a little ink to your sides/near your waist. 

Another fun little HC? Every time Asher tattoos you in the future, Logan’s in the room with you … and he takes his turn with the tattoo machine. During the at-home session, Logan tattooed your hip. 

Wyoming: The best - and most meaningful - gift that Logan has ever gotten in his life was you agreeing to sell Fireside to him so that he could create the rehab center. Based on the work he’s done with Delos, he was entirely prepared to have you (and your aunt and uncle) say no, or fight with him to increase the offer, winding down the time, so the three of you agreeing with very little hesitation and for the first offer price told him that you didn’t sell for the money - you sold because you believed in him and wanted to be sure that the property would be put to good use. That, in turn made Logan much more focused on ensuring that everything went well. 

Tonight: Even after you said that you’d come over the night he called, Logan still expected you to be a no-show. He’d convinced himself that he’d pushed you away for good because he’d treated you so poorly (in his own mind, anyway). So it was a total shock to him to find out that that wasn’t the case… and that you trusted him almost completely. Every time Logan has a bad day, or feels like he’s going to turn back to the way he was, he remembers the way he felt the minute you knocked on his door that night - and everything that came after. Despite the image that he projects, he’s actually very hard on himself every second of every day. Seasons to Cycles: Logan’s biggest dream is to see the Hosts used in a capacity that has nothing to do with pleasure or excess. After getting clean and starting to prove to Jim that he deserves a future with the company, he pulled together a bunch of different people in different fields to discuss the best ways to use Hosts in real-world situations. He knows it would be an uphill battle to convince a large portion of the population to accept the Hosts into everyday life, and doesn’t want to take jobs away from hard-working and deserving people, but he knows that there are a lot of situations where utilizing a Host’s capabilities make more sense than sending a live person in. (They’ve come up with a few, and you’ll see some of those within the story)

 Billy: 

Steel City: Billy’s desire to go to the beach was real. He’s seen sand in the desert for years, and has of course been to the Shore in Jersey, and to New York beaches … but he’s never been anywhere tropical. He’s never seen the ocean turn from murky gray-blue to crystal clear, and he’s never felt it warm enough to actually spend a ton of time in it. Billy always fantasized about going to a tropical place and picking up the hottest woman he could find at a resort or in a bar, but after everything happened with the Castles? He knows it’s out of the question. (Or is it?)

He’s Not Here: When Billy ended up on the roof on NYE and saw that you were there, too, he stood and watched you for a solid five minutes. You spent those five minutes saying goodbye to him, and he spent them (silently) telling you everything that he couldn’t actually tell you. He wanted you to turn around - and if you would have? He would have told you everything, and figured out a way to get you somewhere that Rawlins couldn’t find you, even though he knew you wouldn’t have wanted to leave his side. Billy never once questioned that you’d actually loved him while you were together - which is what made keeping everything from you so hard, even though he knew it was necessary. 

 Ryan Brenner: 

Neon Lights / Just A Place: When Ryan was barely 20, he and Cowboy and Ginny were spending a couple nights with friends in California. Since he wasn’t a big drinker, and there were a couple of joints being passed around along with a bottle of cheap whiskey, Ryan overdid it. He woke up to a buzzing noise … and Ginny standing over him with a pair of hair clippers in her hand. Needless to say, she’d started in a place that they couldn’t hide … and so, still half buzzed, Ryan went into the bathroom of the apartment they were in and finished the job. 

From California, they headed back into the west/midwest … where it was chilly, and that’s where the hat came from, courtesy of Ginny, because she felt bad. It started out as a legitimate way to keep his head warm while his hair grew back, but Ryan grew attached to it throughout the years, refusing to retire it even when it got old and tattered. 

 Sam Adams: 

Mr. and Mrs. Adams: Sam likes to tell stories. But the thing is… none of the stories are ever exactly the same, even when he’s telling it for  the hundredth time. The main details are always the same, but there are tiny embellishments scattered throughout … usually downplaying the significance instead of making things seem more urgent than they were. And when you get Paul involved? Or John Hancock? Or Kelly? You know you’re in for it. They mean well, but those men love to talk. It’s a problem, but it definitely keeps things interesting. 

King Caspian:

His Favorite Place: Caspian’s map reading skills when he’s on the Dawn Treader are amazingly accurate, but he’s much less accurate when on land. It’s never gotten him into trouble, but it frustrates him, because he doesn’t feel that there should be a difference. He knows how to read  the maps, but for whatever reason, open sea and sky are much easier to decipher than forests and trails and towns. He has a a hand in planning the route of every voyage on the ship, but when land travel is required, he relies on others to make the plans. 

Benjamin Greene: 

Tipping Point: Benjamin’s favorite part of Julia’s house was the library, but what he loved even more than that was the quiet. Since they were so far out and away from town, he’d often sit outside on the back patio in the mornings and afternoons, reading or studying, or just listening to music. 

But as time passed, the silence became oppressive, reminding Benjamin just how far away from everything that he knew and loved he was - how much of his life he’d changed for Julia, and he spent less time outdoors and more time inside, headphones in and a book held between his fingers. Moving back to London to live with Zac/Bianca/Eric wasn’t as hard a transition as he’d thought it would be, and Benjamin actually slept with his window open a crack so that he could hear the traffic again. 

Bonus character who will not be named but is going to feature in a coming story: 

 His friends would describe him as volatile, but it’s not always his fault. He’s got a sixth sense about the emotions of others, and can sometimes feel changes in people’s moods. So while he doesn’t always go looking for a fight, he won’t back down from one. Bar fights are normal, and even though he’s usually the one that ends up putting an end to them, he always gets in at least one or two good hits before it happens. Seeing him, you’d be surprised by his strength, but it doesn’t take long for you to understand that it’s there … and that you shouldn’t doubt it. These senses have definitely come in handy throughout his life, but they’ve also likely put him into danger… and will continue to do so.

[oh-obrien]

Migraines

Relationships: Dylan O’Brien x OFC

Warnings: Mentions of chronic illness (?)

Word Count : 5,010

Author’s Note: Hey y’all this is something kind of small and kind of cute I cranked out. I deal with chronic migraines and honestly 100% self indulged with this but it has tons of soft Dylan in it!! I kind of hoped to shine some light on what it’s like dealing with chronic migraines with it, mainly because that’s why I’ve been MIA the past week. It’s pretty hard to write when you can only see out of one eye lol. 

“Sometimes I just really wonder why I subject myself to this,” Lillian mumbled while she laid down on the ground in the middle of the Beacon Hills Memorial hospital set that they happened to be filming in on that day. “Or at least I mean, why I decide to just let my headaches go when I wake up some mornings,” she cracked an eye open to see Dylan standing above her. 

He held a hand out to her and she took it, pushing herself off the ground and closing her eyes once she stood flat so she hopefully wouldn’t notice the room spinning. “I would ask if you wanted anything but I know the answer already,” Lillian fell into step next to him while they got to where they needed to be for the next scene. “If you want to take a break I'm sure you could ask and-”

“I’m fine,” Lillian shook her head and closed her right eye that she currently couldn’t really see out of. She saw Dylan give her a knowing look and shook her head, “I’m seriously fine Dyl. I’m just going to grab some painkillers and coffee on lunch and I’ll be fine for the rest of the day after that.” She quickly pulled away from Dylan and walked over to where Holland and Crystal stood getting ready to film themselves. 

Dylan stood off to the side of the set with Tyler Posey, watching the girls film a scene together. Lillian laid in the hospital bed with her eyes closed, the prop heart monitor beeping steadily behind them while their director spoke. “Something is up with Lilly today,” Tyler mumbled while watching the way her forehead was wrinkled in discomfort when her eyes opened. 

“She has a migraine,” Dylan mumbled watching the girls again when quiet got called on the set. He saw Lillian close her eyes again while she waited for Holland and Crystal to finish their lines for the scene, everyone on set knowing they were going to lunch once their director felt happy with how the scene came out. “And I told her they would call the day early if she said something but she refuses to believe it,” he rolled his eyes. 

Tyler crossed his arms over his chest and nodded, “maybe she just needs lunch to unwind, clear her head,” he watched how Dylan looked on to set with concern. Tyler knew his friend cared deeply about their new cast member, from the dad Lillian had stepped onto the set Dylan and her had clicked. Lillian had grown up in     New York, allowing her and Dylan to quickly fall into conversation about their shared interest in some of the state’s sports teams. She had seen Dylan wearing his Mets cap the first time they met and offered him a smirk mumbling something about, “imagine being a Yankees fan,” before introducing herself to the rest of the cast. 

“I might just stick back here,” Dylan leaned closer to Tyler to speak so he wouldn’t interrupt filming at all, “just to make sure she’s fine,” he ran a hand through his messy hair. Tyler looked up to his friend and just nodded, not wanting to push the issue of where Dylan’s feelings for their friend currently were at the moment. 

When Lillian had moved to Los Angeles, fresh out of college, to join the cast of Teen Wolf for its third season, it quickly became clear that she wasn’t completely comfortable in the new environment. Her audition for the show had been a ‘joke’ of sorts originally and even getting a call back for the part had surprised her.

Lillian had planned on sticking back on her college’s campus for their fall break to attend a tournament for the college’s Ultimate Frisbee team she had played on. Due to weather concerns the tournament had gotten cancelled and with her parents also planning on going on vacation that week, there had been no point in her returning home. A few of her friends who happened  to be acting and theater majors, had planned on taking a trip out to LA that weekend for shits and giggles, to see if they could audition for a couple jobs after they graduated college, just to see if they had any shot at getting the parts.

They had convinced Lillian to walk into an audition with zero acting experience to raise their chances, even if would just raise them a minimal amount, it was still something. Upon walking into the audition, Lillian learned that she would be auditioning for a high school student who wanted to be any place other than high school. Something she related to on a personal level. She must have played the part pretty well because a week later on her way to practice she got the call that the producers wanted her to fly out to LA for the final round of auditions. 

After lengthy discussions with her advisors and parents the days following the call, she knew that she would be graduating a year early, and would have plenty of time to get out to LA before filming started. Armed with that knowledge and the fact that she would have to drop her dreams of attending law school if she did get the part, Lillian flew out to LA for the final audition for a role on the MTV series Teen Wolf. 

Two weeks after graduating from a tiny, central Pennsylvania University with a degree in Economics and Legal Studies, Lillian found herself moving out to Los Angeles to start a career as an actress. She had been able to rent a small house outside of Los Angeles with the help of her parents and moved herself and her dog out there in record timing. Her first day on set she had shown up in a pair of ripped jeans and a long sleeve from her college and felt grossly underdressed and unattractive when she had been introduced to the rest of the cast at the table read. 

“You must be Lillian,” A red headed young woman walked up to Lilly with a warm smile and offered her a hug. “I’m Holland.”

“You can just call my Lilly,” she offered a warm smile in return, tucking her keys into her jeans pocket and holding the binder with her first script in it tightly to her chest. 

Holland nodded and started to lead Lillian into a building, “Jeff told us not to overwhelm you, and we really didn’t trust any of the boys not to do that,” she laughed lightly turning down a long hallway. “We really are one big family though, I’d say this is the best way to ease into your first job.”

“I honestly never expected to wind up here,” Lillian laughed while she and Holland reached a door labeled ‘Teen Wolf’ within the studio. “I’m fresh out of college on an Economics and Pre-Law degree, before I auditioned I’d say acting was the last thing on my mind when it came to a career,” she shrugged. 

Holland looked into the small glass window of the room before speaking, “you’d get along great with Dylan then,” she stated, “Teen Wolf was his first job too! If you’re comfortable enough everyone else is in here, and the boys are quite eager to meet you if I’m honest. They love seeing new people on set.” 

“Sounds good to me,” Lilly shrugged while Holland pushed the door open, the room opening up to a bunch of tables in a large rectangle, the remainder of the cast, the show’s writer and some producers sitting around the table also. All the heads in the room turned to face them and Lilly watched as some of the members of the cast pushed their way out of their seats to introduce themselves. 

“I’m Crystal,” one of the other girls introduced themselves first out of the group. “That’s Tyler and Tyler,” she pointed to two of the younger guys who were standing up. “Daniel, Gage, and Dylan,” she introduced everyone who was standing. “I’m sure the adults are able to introduce themselves,” she laughed. Lillian saw the adults all talking amongst themselves, most likely not wanting to overwhelm her more than she already was.

“And you know me already,” Jeff Davis, the writer for the show, stood up to shake Lillian’s hand. “I’m sure you’ll be a more than amazing addition to the show.” He returned to his seat and started talking with the other adults, giving the younger actors time to properly introduce themselves. 

“Jeff said you were from New York,” one of the Tyler’s spoke up. “That’s pretty cool,”

“Not like the city,” Lillian laughed, “the island though yeah, I lived there until I went to college,” she offered the information. “And at least he’s not a Yankees fan,” she nodded towards the hat that Dylan was wearing. “How’re you a Mets fan?”

Dylan smiled and stepped more into the group, “I lived in Jersey a good chunk of my childhood,” he laughed. “You know how Mets fans raise their kids,” he just shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest. 

From that first day on set onwards, Dylan had taken Lillian under his wing and showed her the ropes of being an actress. With Teen Wolf also having been his first acting job, he found a sort of kinship with Lillian that allowed the two to feel comfortable around each other. They shared experiences the others didn't really have in common with them. They had grown close together through filming, and with Lillian’s character taking a liking to Stiles they were both glad they had natural chemistry. On set they were never really far from each other, and some of their castmates had placed bets on when the pair would finally realize the feelings they had for each other.

“What does she think, Jeff’s going to kick her off the show if she takes a break?” Tyler asked Dylan while they watched Lillian rub at her temples between takes. “Because she really isn’t looking fantastic right now at all.”

Dylan let out a long sigh and shrugged, “I’m really not sure, man. You know how hard she is on herself though, so she won’t even tell you how bad it really is.” Once the director called for lunch break, Lillian sat up slowly in the hospital bed, swinging her legs over the end and pulling on her hair at the roots. She said something to Holland and Crystal who gave her sad smiles before nodding and walking over to Tyler and Dylan. 

“What’s Lilly not coming to lunch?” Tyler asked the two girls, glancing at Dylan out of the corner of his eye. 

Crystal shook her head, “she said she wants to just run through lines for the rest of the day. She said she had food in her trailer, plus she brought Bear with her today,” Crystal pointed out that Lillian had brought her corgi to set for the day and both of the boys turned to look at each other. “Oh you two see Bear plenty, give her a little space during lunch.”

Dylan watched Lillian talk to a few of the producers that were on the set that day, nodding along to what they were saying while she chewed on her bottom lip. Jeff walked over and said something that made her smile, giving a shallow nod to the writer before she walked off in the direction of her trailer, shuffling her feet while she went. “I’m going to stay behind too,” Dylan mumbled, taking off the flannel he had been wearing for Stiles’ outfit that day. 

Holland turned to give Tyler a knowing look and he just shrugged, not sure what to tell her. “Dylan, you know how she needs her space sometimes,” Holland pointed out. 

“It’s fine, I’m just going to check on her,” he waved the others off while he also started in the direction of the trailers. 

Opening her trailer door, Lillian peeled off the clothes she had been wearing on set and dropped them on to the table in the trailer. She grabbed the hoodie she had worn on to set that day, one Dylan had left at her house the week before and a pair of Nike shorts. She bent down to pet Bear who laid half awake on the couch in the room, his stuffed hedgehog under his chin. With a yawn Bear pushed himself up on to his short legs and stretched, going to sniff at his food bowl.

“Oh you’re starving,” Lillian laughed, opening the door to the cabinet where she kept his food, her head pounding while she leaned down. “Here ya go,” she filled his food bowl up and cracked open a fresh water bottle to fill up his bowl before plugging in her coffee maker and starting a fresh pot brewing. She had learned early on in her migraine endeavors that, unlike most people, caffeine fixed her headaches rather than giving her one. 

Grabbing a blanket she had folded on the table she quickly unfolded it and sat down on the couch, draping it over herself and closing her eyes, trying to ignore the pounding in her head. She wished that her coffee would brew faster so she could gain back some of her will to continue filming for the rest of the day after lunch. She knew that her and the rest of the cast had planned to go out to lunch that afternoon but couldn't bring herself to go sit in a loud restaurant for two hours with how quickly her migraine had taken its grip. Letting out a long sigh she felt Bear jump up in her lap and rested a hand on his back, running her fingers through his fur. 

Lillian had gotten Bear her senior year of high school, he’s a trained migraine alert dog and accurately alerted her to most of her oncoming migraines for the entire time she had him. He had alerted her of her current one the day before, but she had hoped it would have held off until after work that day. With her head tilted back and eyes closed Lillian continued to run her fingers through the dog’s fur, his chest rising and falling steadily under her hand. 

A few minutes later, while the coffee started to sputter out the last bits of coffee, a quiet knock rapped on her door and bear let out a sleep growl. Lillian just laughed lightly before saying ‘come in’ as loud as she could. Her head pounding when she did so, a quiet groan falling from her lips. The door opened and Lillian saw Dylan standing on the other side. He was dressed in a pair of sweats and a black tee shirt, his hair messy on his head and his phone in hand.

“He do his job like he’s supposed to?” Dylan asked Lillian motioning towards Bear who had decided to go back to sleep on Lillian’s lap. 

She nodded, “he did,” she knew Dylan wouldn’t be happy with her, now knowing the fact that she had an oncoming migraine she had told no one about until it hit. “I knew too,” she just shrugged while Dylan closed her trailer door behind him. She heard the coffee machine beep, signaling it had finished brewing and Lillian let out a quiet ‘yes’, going to move Bear so she could make a cup.

“I got it,” Dylan told her, walking over to the fridge and pulling out the milk and vanilla creamer she had in it. “Do you care if I take a cup?” He turned to face Lillian while he pulled down the sugar from where she kept it. 

Lillian shook her head slightly, “be my guest,” she told him. Dylan busied himself making the mugs of coffee, sliding Lilly’s carefully to her before making his own. 

“That’s the sweatshirt I left at your house last weekend,” he nodded to the hoodie she had on, “looks good on you,” he gave a small smile, sitting down on the end of the couch. Lillian shrugged in response, holding her mug between both hands and taking a sip of the warm liquid. 

She set the mug down again before speaking, “you left it, and it’s comfy. I’ll give it back later.” she closed her eyes while Bear got off her lap, moving to lay on his bed that currently had rays of sun pouring over it. 

“I wasn’t missing it all that much,” Dylan shrugged, taking a sip of his own drink. He turned to face Lillian, a serious look on his face. “Why don’t you ever say anything, especially when Jeff tells you to let him know?” He asked quietly. 

Lillian just let out a long sigh, opting to focus on her coffee mug instead of answering right away. “Can we talk about it when I can see out of both of my eyes again and can remember more than just my name and where I am?” she let out a small laugh. “I honestly was just planning on taking a nap after I downed a few mugs of coffee,” she added. 

Dylan watched as she started to rub her temples, her eyes closing while she did so. “I can go if you want,” he pointed towards her door. 

“No it’s fine, you’re here now and I'm awake we can just watch a movie or something if you want to,” she spoke softly, not opening her eyes at all in the process. 

“Lilly-”

“Dylan just, stop worrying,” she let out a long sigh. “Pick a movie and we can just hang out, you really shouldn’t have hung back,” she left the, ‘but I’m glad you did’, out. Lillian had a small crush on her castmate since the first day she had stepped on to set. His sense of humor and off the walls energy just appealed to her. Not to mention he always seemed incredibly sweet and cared about those around him in a way not many people could. The pair had bonded over their shared interest in many of the same sports team and one of them would usually host dinner and some friends on nights of games. 

He had also been the one to pick up on her migraine triggers first. He tried to avoid ordering food with too much garlic if he would be hosting the games, and he also knew if he planned on getting Chinese he could only order from a couple of places in the LA area. He knew that days on set where there would be flashing or bright lights and a lot of loud noise would also trigger her migraines sometimes. 

Off set, Dylan had learned to pay careful attention to Bear and could often notice when the dog was signaling to Lillian that she would have an oncoming migraine within the next day. “We don’t have to watch a movie,” Dylan shrugged and set his now empty mug next to Lillian’s. “You know I share your love for naps,” He laughed lightly kicking his shoes off and stretching out across her couch. “Give me a pillow and if you come lay up here I can rub your head,” he offered. 

Lillian pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, thinking the offer over. She knew that it would help her, and Dylan had done it before for her, but she didn’t want to get too cozy with him. Especially with her feelings growing stronger and stronger in the past weeks. “You don’t mind?” she asked quietly. 

“No I don’t mind,” Dylan shook his head with a small smile. Now give me a pillow and come share your blanket!” Lillian reached underneath her couch to grab one of the pillows she kept in her trailer and handed it to Dylan who adjusted it on the arm of the couch so he could comfortably lay on it. He sunk further into the couch, hanging his legs over the end, before opening his arms so Lilly could tuck into his side. 

Carefully shuffling around on the small couch, Lillian laid her head on Dylan’s chest and tucked in as close to him as possible so she could make sure she wouldn’t fall off the end. Pulling her blanket around both of them, Dylan wrapped his free arm around her back and the other started to gently rub at her left temple. “I don’t know how you balance everything,” he mumbled quietly, watching Lilly’s eyes close. 

“I’ve been doing it since like middle school,” she replied, yawning at the end. “You get used to it, trust me.”

Dylan moved his hand so it carded through her hair a few times before rubbing where the back of her skull met her neck, “but still,” he sighed. “I just feel bad is all,” he wasn’t quite sure what to say.

“Well you’re helping right now, so don’t feel bad,” Lillian snuggled more into his side. Her right hand resting on his chest. “Seriously this is more than I can ask for. At home I’ll sleep on a heating pad to try and help a little bit. Having an actual person is more than enough,” he words started to bleed together while she started to drift off. 

Dylan let out a small laugh, his chest vibrating against Lillian’s hand and cheek when he did so. He let his own eyes close while he moved his hand again, his thumb gently rubbing up and down the bridge of Lilly’s nose. He remembered her mentioning it the first time he had found them in this position. She had said her mom would do it when she had been younger and couldn’t sleep at night from her migraines. 

Opening his eyes when he felt Lilly’s breathing even out completely, he noticed her facial features had relaxed significantly, her brow no longer stuck in a tight crease. Her lips weren’t turned into a frown anymore and her nose no longer scrunched up in discomfort. He continued to rub her temples and up and down the bridge of her nose until Bear decided to use the steps to get up on the sofa to crawl into his lap and go back to sleep himself. 

“God,” Dylan breathed out slowly, letting his hand come to rest on Lillian’s hip once he knew she was actually asleep. “I am fucked,” he closed his eyes and decided to make use of the break to catch up on sleep himself.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

“Where are Dylan and Lillian?” Jeff approached the group of young actors when they had returned to set from their lunch break. “I’ve been texting and calling both of them and they haven't answered.” He looked around the group for an answer.

“Uhh-” Tyler Posey trailed off. “I know Dylan stayed behind to check on Lilly earlier, he said she had a migraine starting earlier and didn’t really want to tell anyone.” Jeff looked around the group, waiting to see if anyone else had an answer for him as to where the two could be.

Holland grabbed Tyler’s arm and nodded to him, “we’ll go see if we can find them,” she told Jeff with a small smile. The pair started in the direction of the cast’s trailers and Holland let out a long sigh. “This is why she's supposed to mention these things, no one wants her hurt or sick.” She spoke with genuine concern for her friend. 

“She told Dylan,” Tyler shrugged while they walked up the lines of trailers until they saw Lilly’s. “I mean, it’s something,” he added.

Holland just nodded and looked at Tyler. “Yeah, she likes him and he likes her, they’re happily oblivious to it though.” Holland approached Lilly’s trailer and looked in the window. She turned around to face Tyler with a smirk and nodded towards the window. 

Tyler approached the window and pushed himself up on his toes so he could see in. He noticed the pair curled up on Lilly’s couch together, asleep, and Lilly’s dog curled up on Dylan’s lap. “I bet they're both still pinning though,” He laughed quietly. “Should we see if the door’s open?” He asked Holland.

“Probably,” she walked up the stairs to the trailer and pushed on the door that swung open. Bear lifted his head to watch the pair, but didn’t make any noise. He knew the two and also knew they would often supply him with treats if he behaved. She watched Tyler take out his phone and take a picture of them before tucking it back into his pocket.

“For safekeeping,” he laughed while Holland approached the pair. She reached out and shook Dylan’s left shoulder, trying to carefully wake him up. He let out a quiet groan and opened his eyes, blinking sleepily at the room around him. When his eyes came into focus he noticed Holland and Tyler standing in the middle of the trailer, knowing smirks on their faces. 

Dylan cleared his throat before speaking, “she had a headache, I just offered to help,” his voice slightly scratchy from sleep. 

“And you are both absolutely oblivious to the mutual feelings between each other apparently,” Holland rolled her eyes. “You’re both supposed to be on set, but I’m sure Jeff wouldn’t mind wrapping early if he understood her situation.” Dylan looked down to where Lilly still laid passed out on his chest. 

Dylan sighed, “might be best for the day, I know earlier she wasn’t really able to see out of her one eye. Probably not the safest thing on set.” He watched Lilly turn her face further into his chest and started rubbing her temple again. 

“Yeah, man,” Tyler gave him a small smile. “We’ll go talk to Jeff and you see how she’s feeling.” He turned to leave the trailer, Holland hanging around a few seconds longer. 

“Trust me Dyl,” she let out a quiet sigh, “just tell her, I know you won’t be disappointed,” and with that she turned to follow Tyler. 

Dylan closed his eyes for a second before opening the again, lightly wrapping his hand around Lilly’s shoulder and shaking her. “Lills,” he hummed, “you gotta wake up,” he said. Lilly groaned and he watched her peel her eyes open, blinking at the light filling up the trailer and tucking her face into Dylan’s chest again. 

“I know,” he rubber her shoulder, “you still feel shitty, but Holland and Tyler are going to see if Jeff can end the day early-”

“Nope,” Lillian sat up quickly, groaning when she did. Her head still pounded and she wanted to go back to sleep, but she had a job to get done. “I just need to change and-”

“You need to lay back down,” Dylan grabbed her arm and pulled her back into his chest. “I care too much about you to keep letting you do this to yourself,” he added. Lilly just closed her eyes, trying to will her nausea to go away, not wanting to throw up in front of Dylan, of all people. She felt a few tears of pain and frustration slip out of the corners of her eyes and gave up, sinking back into Dylan’s warm embrace. 

“This fucking sucks,” she sniffled while Dylan’s thumb started rubbing up and down the bridge of her nose again. “I can’t just not work because I have a headache, everyone gets headaches, I just need a few minutes to get rid of the queasiness,” she mumbled. 

Dylan shushed her and used his thumb to wipe away the tears that slipped out of her eyes. “You need to rest more, Lills,” he started rubbing her back with his other hand. “Tyler and Holland are going to come tell me we can leave early and then I’ll drive you and your furry friend here home.” He looked down to Bear who had fallen asleep again.

“I don’t-” Lillian squeezed her eyes shut tighter, “I don’t want to be home alone,” she spoke quietly. “It’ll just last longer and then I won’t sleep and I’ll still have it tomorrow and-”

“I’ll stay,” he cut her off, “as long as it’s okay with you.”

“Dylan you don’t-”

“I want to, Lilly,” he looked down at her, her eyes finally open again. “I care about you,” he took in a shaky breath. “A lot, and I won’t leave you alone like this,” he continued to play with your hair. “I want to help you take care of this,” he leaned in and pressed his lips to her forehead. “So please just, let me take care of you for once.”

“I-” Lillian trailed off, looking up at Dylan who watched her closely. “I don’t want to tie you down with this, you don’t deserve to deal with this,” she shook her head. 

Dylan hummed in response and shook his head ‘no’, rubbing her temple again with his pointer and middle fingers. “I like this though,” he smiled lightly, “you’re warm and comfortable, Bear is asleep in my lap,” he shrugged, “I’m quite happy where I am.” He watched Lilly look at him, her face stuck in a state of disbelief. 

Just when Lilly went to speak again, Tyler, Crystal and Holland appeared in the trailer door. “Jeff said we can stop for the day, it was all just going to be getting a head start anyway,” Tyler said. 

“See,” Dylan looked down at Lilly, “thanks guys!” he addressed the others. They all gave Dylan knowing smiles before telling Lilly to feel better and leaving the pair alone again. “Now, let’s get you two home and order something to eat that won’t bother your head more.” 

Lillian sat up slowly, a small smile on her face while she pet Bear who yawned and opened his eyes also. “As long as you promise to snuggle more,” she pouted at Dylan. 

“I promise to snuggle more,” he laughed sliding off the couch. “Now let’s go.”

[dotaccountant]

(LOVIE SIMONE, 23, FEMALE, SHE/HER) ⮕ Hey, isn’t that [DOROTHEA “DOT” HARTLEY]? I heard that they were a part of the crew. According to the wiki it says they’re the [ACCOUNTANT] of the group. Avid fans say that they’re [PRAGMATIC], but that they can also be [MOODY]. Maybe that’s because they’re a [CAPRICORN]. This gossip forum says they joined the group because [SHE NEEDS THE MONEY]. I wonder if that’s true. I also heard they [DO NOT] believe in ghosts. I wonder if their time in arcane inc will change that. (peyton, 23, est.)

mun info.

hey girly! just wanted to let you know i literally cannot handle this right now :)

uhh okay!! my name is peyton, i’m 23, i’m a college senior, i’m a libra, i’ve been rping for [redacted] years. i managed to escape for like two years until quarantine hit so here i am, like a dog going back to its’ vomit. i’m an illiterate roman roy enthusiast lesbian who is just excited to be here. my discord is ilyinichna#9370 (not me outing myself as a russian lit nerd. disgusting). please feel free to add me!!!

some cheeky stats.

full name: dorothea eloise hartley nicknames: dot by the crew, dottie exclusively by her mother, lame ass nerd by me birthdate: december 31st, 1997 occupation: accountant for arcane inc. nationality: american

orientation: bisexual moral alignment: lawful good myers-briggs: infp temperament: melancholic

about.

it snowed the day dot was born, her mother would say fondly as she reminisced of better times for the two. edna hartley always made it a point to say no matter what she was conceived out of love and for awhile, dot believed that. her parents met when her mother was touring europe and she fell for a charming french aspiring writer, louis, who said all of the right things. not long after their summer romance, edna found out she was pregnant and at first louis was thrilled. he proposed on the spot. edna had dreams of becoming a stage actress so the two flew out to a shoebox apartment in new york to start their little family.

except edna never got her big break and louis never even started the next great novel and the bills were piling up. they were getting money from edna’s family, but louis’s pride wouldn’t accept it any longer. he took two jobs while edna stayed home with baby dot. 

she loved dot and dot herself never doubted it, but she was certainly not ready to be a mother. she was immature and treated her only daughter more like a best friend than her child. taking care of a child all day with no escape took a strain on edna and eventually took a strain on her marriage. what started as harsh whispers would soon turn into screaming matches that dot could hear through the thin walls. it was that way for years and dot looked at her parents differently. she had resentment for her father and the feeling was mutual, he blamed them for the fact he never achieved his dream. the older dot grew she soon was the one taking care of edna, who some days couldn’t even get out of bed.

dot comes home from school at fifteen to see her and edna’s bags packed. she says the two of them are going to california and dot goes with her without any hesitation. a new start was what they needed, they could look out for each other.

except it wasn’t. edna and dot both work odd jobs to make ends meet and when dot isn’t at school she’s accompanying her mother to auditions that she doesn’t get called back for. she scores a few commercials which is enough to keep them afloat for a brief amount of time. much of dot’s teen years are spent apartment hopping, couch surfing, and sleeping in motels throughout LA. if she was younger she might have been charmed by their vagabond lifestyle, but dot knew they couldn’t live that way forever.

if anything, dot learned a lot about how money worked when she was young. she always had a knack for numbers and after crunching the numbers to figure out if you could pay your electric bill for the month really gives you an advantage. she learned how to budget because no one else was going to. 

she’s working a job doing data entry when she first hears of arcane inc. one of her coworkers wouldn’t stop talking about them. dot isn’t interested as she’s never though much about the supernatural, chalking up companies like arcane to exploit people’s fears. no thanks. her mother believed in spirits enough for the both of them. (besides if karma was real, she would’ve seen a check from louis for the book deal he got over a year ago).

dot does go down a rabbit hole though when she realizes just how big of a following aracane has. people will really believe anything. the moment she sees that they’re hiring, she sees it as an opportunity. a company with millions of followers has to give their employees a reasonable salary. she didn’t have any real work experience outside of her office job but she was damn good with numbers and she was already used to traveling.

she’s been at arcane inc. for about a year now and still doesn’t really get what all the hype is about but that doesn’t matter. dot makes enough to send money to edna and she’s even started to put money aside to go to college. dot’s never been one to dream big, look at what it did to her parents, so she’s planned out every step without reaching out too far for the stars.

headcanons.

yeah her mom’s a failed theater actress but dot has a really secret love for musicals. you won’t find her ever talking about it though and if anyone found out she’d kill them. not joking don’t text.

her social media presence is little to none. not that she thinks she’s above it but she’s just genuinely bad at keeping up and she doesn’t love being in front of a camera. (her instagram posts are all blurry with bad filters and weird angles, bless her heart).

she’s probably the most stubborn person you will ever meet. i blame it on her being an earth sign i’m just saying a ghost could be right in front of her and she’d go and?

dot’s a really good listener (years of practice) and will take secrets to the grave but she’s pretty bad at giving advice. she doesn’t really know what to do when someone starts crying except give them an awkward pat.

her intuition is pretty good though. she’s good at reading situations she just doesn’t know how to react sometimes.

tw abuse: so while her father was never physically abusive, there was an incident from when she was twelve. he had been drinking and dot got out of bed to get water from the kitchen. he yells at her, as he often did, and throws an empty beer bottle at her. she threw up her arms to defend herself and there are still a few scars from the glass shards.

the way to her heart? anything peppermint which i know is arguably the worst dessert flavor but she can’t get enough of it.

tends to chew on things when she’s working. no pen cap is safe. she usually has candies on her so she has something to munch on.

connection ideas.

i prefer chemistry over anything else!! these are just some ideas to get the ball rolling. (also i am so bad at coming up with connections.)

friends. i mean....yeah jsfdkljfd. as basic as that is she just never had many of those growing up! dot’s kept a few people close but for the first time in her life she’s out of reach from her mother so it’s a good chance to socialize.

more specifically? a best friend. in the same vein but dot would really put this person above everyone else. she’s really loyal and it’d be nice to have such a close bond with someone.

a childhood friend or two too!! she’s moved around quite a bit but she stayed in new york (and she considers when she first moved to la still part of her childhood) for quite a bit, definitely long enough to make a connection!

someone she’s pulling out of trouble maybe. while dot’s not a maternal figure (leave that to the nurturer) she does have a compulsive need to help people out. it’s very frustrating but she can’t stop.

negative nancy. she can be so pessimistic and annoying so she’d appreciate having someone she could just vent to.

exes. it has to be a past relationship because dot is not a hook up person like AT ALL, but she’s human and she likes companionship (sometimes). 

honestly whatever you can think of! cousins, pen pals, unrequited crush (either way), friend crush, enemies, people she avoids, shared interest buddies, good/bad influence!

[fletcherr]

hi ! i’m maren and i’m bad at intros ! and bios ! and things in general ! ... why am i here again ? uhm. anyway ! this is fletcher and uh ... he hates it here askdjfs like i can’t lie i’m so sorry but for the time being it’s ... lowkey the truth ? i’m writing this part of the post first so fingers crossed i manage to keep this short and to the point. if there’s no tldr it’s because this was supposed to be it. ( spoiler ; i failed. it’s so fucking long you literally do not have to read it i am so sorry. ) i’m super excited to be here and cannot wait to get to know you and your muses and be a part of this amazing group !!

THE APP !

˖ °╰ ⌜ [ MUSE TEN, ROBERT PATTINSON, 31, CIS MALE, HE/HIM ] hey, have you seen FLETCHER DUNCAN ? last time i saw them i think they were hanging around THE ROOFTOP. they can kind of be VEHEMENT but can also be pretty HAUGHTY. they’re often caught listening to SUPERSTAR SH*T - DOMINIC FIKE ! they also tend to remind me of cheap cigarettes put out in still half full glasses of rare bourbon, flipping off paparazzi, showing up to important meetings bleary-eyed and twenty minutes late, wearing sunglasses inside and black hoodies on the hottest day of summer, feeling uninspired for months then writing three albums worth of songs in two weeks ! let me know if you’ve seen them around, they’ve been working at the championship around FOUR MONTHS and they’re late for their shift !

THE BASICS !

full name: fletcher ralph duncan ( born fletcher ralph irvine )

nicknames: prefers fletcher, but is okay with fletch or duncan

date of birth: november 18th, 1989

gender: cis male

pronouns: he / him

height: 6′1

tattoos: some stupid ones without any deeper meaning to them on his arms and thighs, for sure

THE ( VERY ) IN - DEPTH ! tw for mentions of abuse of drugs and alcohol, terminal illness, hospitals, and death

after years of marriage, fletcher’s parents had him when they were both about to enter their forties, as one last, final attempt to find back to the love they’d had for each other when they started dating way back in high school. it didn’t work. his father left  when fletcher was four; leaving divorce papers on the kitchen table two weeks before christmas. him and his mother, winnie, moved from one of the suburbs to a smaller, more affordable apartment in brooklyn. they were never quite comfortable, money-wise, but they didn’t struggle either. two years after the move, his mother started seeing a guy she’d been introduced to through friends from work. fletcher adored richard from the first time they met, and as the years went by he came to consider him more of a dad than he ever did the one who left. that’s probably why he didn’t mourn when his father passed suddenly and unexpectedly the summer he turned ten. the following summer, winnie and richard married, and both her and fletcher completely rid themselves of the man who walked out on them when they both changed their last name from his to richard’s - duncan.

when richard moved in, he’d brought an electric guitar and a sparse record collection with him. these were fletcher’s first real introduction to music. he dove in head first. there’s no telling how many evenings they sat in the living room, records playing, or fletcher practicing on the guitar until he was caught up with his dad’s guitar skills. turns out, he was actually a bit of a natural. after he’d mastered his first instrument, he moved onto another. his mother - who’d been a classically trained, lifetimes ago - taught him to the best of her ability on a keyboard they got from a yard sale. he spent hours at a time in record stores. championship vinyl had always been richard’s favorite, and it wasn’t long until it was his favorite too. consuming music wasn’t enough, though. by the time he was in high school, fletcher was writing his own songs; creating his own music. of course - none of it was ever remotely up to par with the songs he kept discovering, but it didn’t matter. him and two kindred spirits he met at school formed a band, performing covers and the stuff he wrote. to afford actual gig gear - not that they ever booked many of those - fletcher applied for a part time job the only place he could think to; championship vinyl. though he'd been a regular for the better part of a decade by that time, he was still in disbelief and awe when he got the job.

fletcher thrived at championship. he took on all the shifts his schedule would allow him, and even skipped class to cover for anyone that asked. even when he was off the clock, he’d hang around. if he wasn’t flicking through new inventory or catching up with the whoever was at work, he’d be sitting on the rooftop with his guitar, a pen and a roll of receipt paper - scratching down song ideas and testing out new material. things were looking up; he was a creatively fulfilled high school senior with a job he loved, parents that supported- and loved him unconditionally, and he’d just been accepted into nyu. therefore, it rocked his world when his dad stopped by during one of his shifts, only to collapse while fletcher had his back turned to find a rare vinyl he’d set aside for him as a surprise. 

the diagnosis was a death sentence. months flew by in the blink of an eye, and he watched the only dad he’d ever truly known wither away before his eyes. weeks shy of a year to the date of the diagnosis, on the day richard duncan passed away, his son brought the old record player and the by now weathered records from the brooklyn apartment to the hospital room. he drew his last breath surrounded by the music and the family he loved.

not recently having gone through the same kind of world crumbling sorrow and the revelation about not wasting away and following your dreams that walks that’s bound to follow, his bandmates weren’t all that keen on the plan fletcher presented them with; movin to la and making it in music. really making it. with one of three members hellbent on leaving, the band broke up. they never could agree on a name, anyway. he turned in his resignation at championship, and jokingly promised james namsen to not come back until he’d won a grammy. winnie, though heartbroken to first lose the love of her life, and now having her son move away, had nothing but support and encouragement to offer when he announced he’d be dropping out of college to pursue music.

the first two years, nothing happened. he was living and working in downtown la; the apartment he shared with four roommates was just shy of being a shoebox, and the franchise record  store he eventually scored a job at lacked the soul and the hum of energy he was used to from championship back in new york. just as ambition and hope was wearing thin, things were starting to look up for him. he was meeting the right people in the right places, at the right times. after opening for a few up and coming acts, he was approached by a manager, who in turn introduced him to a few labels. though he was very aware he wasn’t a strong vocalist, he was confident in himself as a musician and a songwriter, and it seemed so was the internationally renowned label that ended up offering him a contract. his first single dropped not even a year later, soon followed by his debut album.

though his star was slowly rising, the album made only a miniscule splash. he toured it as an opening act and played a handful of shows on each coast. going back into the studio to work on the next album felt different. making the first one hadn’t felt authentic. not the process, nor the result. he’d been too agreeable; too eager to please and too eager to show he was worth everyone’s time and money. this time around, he was more assertive and demanded more control over the creative process. less co-writers were brought in, and he now had a say in which producers he worked with. his sophomore album released to generally positive reviews and ratings, but it seemed that would be it. then, almost over night, his shit was doing numbers. big numbers. 

sure - his label was running some promo for his sophomore album, but it seemed most people were catching wind of his stuff by word of mouth. people were actually buying his albums. both of them. when tickets to his second headline tour went on sale, they sold out in days. dates were added and venues were upgraded to answer the growing demand for tickets as more and more people found his music. he was playing famous venues now; legendary venues. festivals with hundreds of thousands of attendees. all over the country. all over the world. if he didn’t have a microphone or a guitar in his hand, he had a beer. or vodka. maybe whiskey. sometimes a joint, sometimes pills. he was at parties, then he was hosting parties. then he was at parties hosted in his honor. for the first time in his life, he had money. hard, real, fuck you money. he paid off the student loan he’d racked up during his one year stint at nyu, and the mortgage on the apartment he’d grown up in. he bought a house in beverly hills, and a two story apartment in brooklyn - both of which had shelves custom made for the gilded statuettes and trophies declaring him to be the best in a slew of categories. he’d done it. he was twenty-six and on top of the world. invincible. and then his mom's heart gave out.

for the three years that followed, his career suffered as he partied harder. friends he’d known for years disappeared, and were replaced with new faces that all blurred together. there were scandals, but they too were all a blur - leaked pictures and videos; shows he decided last minute he didn’t wanna do; shows he couldn’t do because he showed up too far gone to stand upright. people who got too close to him on one of the bad days, who’s faces he scarred forever. arrests, and settlements made outside of court. the label was getting antsy too, and when it passed the two year mark of the last time he’d set foot in the studio, his team - headed by the same manager that been with him through it all; that’d seen potential and believed in him all those years ago - pleaded with him to get help. begrudgingly, fletcher agreed. after a few months at rehab, he returned - clean, and determined to get back to work. the process was longwinded and intense, but the finished product was, in his eyes, solid gold. and - luckily? surprisingly? - the world at large agreed.

he toured the album with dates booked at relatively smaller venues this time around, but everywhere was packed full to the brim with people. throughout the time working on the album he’d been doing okay; staying sober and surrounding himself with good intentioned people. but being back on the road took a toll on him he hadn’t expected, and it didn’t take long for him to turn to alcohol when it was so easily accessible all around him, at all times. still, things were fine, and he was even relearning to appreciate the electric energy of performing live in front of an audience. to celebrate the last show of the us leg of the tour, the label threw an afterparty for the band, the team, the crew, and their friends. as people were starting to leaving the venue, fletcher sent some members of his band and a couple of their friends ahead with a key to his suite at a hotel nearby, while he thanked the label executives that’d been at the show. when he showed up, a glass was shoved into his hand, and as the party picked back up, someone got out the pills they’d kept at the bottom of their pocket all night. when offered, fletcher - on top of the world once more - accepted. 

someone snitched. and to the media, no less. when confronted by his team, he denied it. after being open about his struggle to overcome addiction, something like this would be damning for the reputation he’d rebuilt over the last two years. which is why he lied through his teeth. but then the videos from the suite appeared online, and his ruse was up. the rest of the tour was cancelled, and after completing a thirty day program, he was back in brooklyn.

it took some convincing, but he eventually went along with the ‘find back to your roots by returning to where it all started’ plan his team had cooked up. he also agreed to let someone else run his social media accounts for the time being. how his manager had gotten him a job at championship, fletcher didn’t know. he suspected a monthly bribe the size of his paycheck and then some was involved. but then again, he’d never known james namsen to be that kind of guy. for the first few weeks, he showed up for his shifts - sometimes on time, sometimes not - kept his head down, tried to engage with as few customers and co-workers as possible, then ditched as soon as he was off the clock. but there’d always been something special about the record store on the corner of bedford and sterling. soon enough, he began occasionally going up to the rooftop once his shift was over. approaching customers to offer his service before they approached him. show up early to catch up with whoever was working the shift before him. if he was having a particularly good day, he’d stop by to hang around even if he wasn’t on the schedule. he was well aware he wasn’t always easy to be around - years of living the high life and putting up walls having made him cynical, and standoffish, and discourteous. even if the boy he’d been when he walked out of there years ago was long gone, championship vinyl had stayed the same. and though fletcher’s yet to admit it, being back felt like being home. 

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Animal (13)

Chadwick Boseman X Original Female Character “Sianna”

Chapter Warning: Cursing, Angst, Plot, Plenty of Words, Slow Burn

Word Count: 2.8k

Note:  I hope you guys enjoy this. By the way, Tumblr is on the BS and flagged every chapter because my old mood board had a portrayal of backshots. LMFAO!!!! So new mood board.

I censored my mood board, let’s see if it gets flagged. LOL

**Loosely edited/Proofread***

Thank you guys for reading!!!  If you enjoyed this please LIKE, REBLOG, COMMENT. ❤️ ❤️

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-Sianna-

  MSG Mom: You have missed the last several months of Sunday dinners. That is inexcusable young lady. I get that you’re busy, everyone is busy. We are all busy. We all make the time. Why can’t you?

  You’d been staring at the message from her for the last few hours. After the last dinner you’d missed your brothers warned you that she was on a rampage. They told you to expect her call. You dodged the calls but this you couldn’t dodge. It had been months since you made an appearance at the biweekly family dinner. In the beginning, it was due to your insane work schedule and all the time you had to put into establishing your line and brand. Now with the pregnancy, it was terror. You knew you couldn’t show up to family dinner six months pregnant, especially when the last time they saw you, you weren’t and had no prospects as your mother would say.

 If you showed up preggers your mother would have a heart attack at the scandal alone. Your brothers would go into cabin in the woods ax murderer mode, your father would probably understand but be disappointed that you’d rearranged the order of events skipping boyfriend and marriage altogether. Everyone would have something to say and you were nowhere near prepared to handle any of it.

Groaning you dropped back onto your bed and closed your eyes. Maybe if you lied here long enough this would all fade away and you’d realize it was an insane fever dream and you weren’t pregnant with a near stranger's babies, and tackling all of it alone. Five, fifteen, then thirty minutes passed with you laying there in silence without a thought in your mind besides the yoga breathing you’d been learning the last two weeks you’d began Lamaze classes.

 When you opened your eyes everything was still calm, and you nearly forgot everything, but then felt a powerful jab in your abdomen. You shot right up and touched your stomach, the tiny imprint of some body part pressed against your right palm. A smile tickled your lips until you were full-on grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

 “Yep, not a dream. Reality.” You slowly rubbed your belly. Where your hands roamed the movements followed. Soon you were feeling a symphony of kicks all over your stomach and you sat there smiling enjoying every second. It was surreal, yes, but it wasn’t nearly as alarming now as it had been several weeks ago.

 “What are we gonna do guys? We have to get our shit together. Work is great, I can handle work but everything else. How do I even begin to go home to your grandparents and tell them about you? How do I face them? Then what do I do about your daddy?”

 The thought of referring to Chadwick as their daddy made you smile and your heart flutter. It filled you with warmth and more than half of you liked calling him that. He was their father. They had half his DNA and would probably look something like him. You hadn’t thought much about anything beyond being pregnant and having a lot going on. This was the first time you began to think about the secondary things.

 “He has rights, I know that. I don’t want to take them away. I just—he’s so famous and he’ll be even more famous. His career takes him everywhere, how do I know that he can be there for us? You, I mean for you. This has nothing to do with me. Right?”

 The sound of your doorbell broke you out of your monologue. As you walked down the stairs you continued to rub your belly enjoying the kicks, pushes and slithers you felt. It was strange to feel movement inside of you but it wasn’t something that made your skin crawl, it did the opposite. When you looked at the video of the front doorbell you smiled seeing your friends.

 “My God, could you have taken any longer?”

 “Excuse me, I am pregnant and carrying more weight.”

 The three of them walked in past you and made a line straight for the kitchen where you knew the wine was.

 “Girl please, you’re barely pregnant, and the only more weight you’re carrying is that ass,” Ebony teased. You smiled and dipped down to do a baby twerk. The three of them cheered loudly as you fanned them off.

 Once the three of you were seated around your kitchen island Zee was the one to pop the top off the wine bottle.

 “It’s barely three Zee.”

 “Three in LA means it’s well past five in New York,” she responded pouring the golden liquid in their three glasses.

 “None for you baby mama,” Tessa said as she slid a can of apple Izze your way. You rolled your eyes, popped the top and took a sip.

 “I didn’t want any wine anyway.”

 “How are you doing? You’re getting bigger.” Ebony’s hand flew to your belly and rubbed your bump.

 “I’m okay. I am. I think I’m going to have to go into maternity in the next week or two.”

 “Six months, with twins I’d say there are many women who would be jealous at that fact,” Tessa added.

 “What’s going on with the father?”

 “Zee, you can say his name he’s not the damn Candyman. Jesus, Chadwick Boseman. I still can’t believe you met, and popped that pussy for Chadwick Boseman in record time and came away with two souvenirs of your time together. Girl, talk about luck,” Ebony went on.

 “Luck?”

 “Yes, there are plenty of women who would love to be in your position, hell any of the positions he had you in.”

 The three of them snickered and you shook your head but couldn’t keep the smirk off your face.

 “If they wanna be me so bad, go ahead. This is messy.”

 “Have you heard from him since he showed up here to catch you with your new boo?”

 “Another thing, who dates and has a boo while being six months pregnant?”

 You narrowed your eyes at Ebony. She quickly raised her hands in surrender.

 “First of all, I don’t have a boo. Things with Chino are—over. We had a talk after Chad showed up here and he wants to take a step back, he thinks I don’t know what I want and that I should focus on figuring it out.

 “Smart man,” Tessa murmured.

 “So, Chino is out of the picture. I can’t even blame him for not wanting anything to do with me. I’m having babies with Chadwick Boseman.”

 “He knows he can’t compete with The Bleck Pantha,” Ebony chided in her best Wakanda accent. You rolled your eyes; you’d just about had it with her. Zee and Tessa snickered together.

 “Ebony.”

 Again, she raised her hands in defeat. You knew she’d pipe up again with something else to say that was slick and smart.

 “Chad and I spoke, I told him everything and apologized for not telling him sooner.”

 “How did he take it?”

 You finished the can of Izze and went to the fridge for another and took the bowl of cut strawberries out as well.

 “He took it well. There was no yelling or screaming, or tears. It was a calm conversation—surpisingly calm considering.”

 “Anything decided? Does he want to be involved with his babies? Are the two of you going to I don’t know make a relationship?”

 “Will you be moving in with him?”

 Their questions hit you in the face one after the other like slabs of ice. They were questions you hadn’t thought about and definitely hadn’t even addressed. They were way ahead of the game.

 “Guys, chill. We didn’t decide anything. He asked me if I wanted him involved and I had no answer for him.”

 “What the hell you mean you had no answer? Si.” Ebony gaped at you ready to elaborate her outrage but the stern look on your face shut her up.

 “What did you tell him then?”

 “I said I don’t know. Guys, I really don’t know. I know he has rights and all that but not everyone who has kids should be involved with them.”

 “True, but if a man is willing, able and wanting to be there for his offspring, you have an obligation to allow him, especially a black man. Remember those statistics and stereotypes are a thing. He doesn’t want to be part of the fray,” Tessa explained. She was speaking nothing but facts, you knew it.

 “He didn’t say he wanted to be involved. He was clearly in shock. It was a lot to hear and absorb, still pregnant, over five months so, pregnant with twins. It was a lot. We left things with both of us needing to think and really figure out what we each want.”

 “What do you want Sianna?” Zee’s voice was gentle and her hands soft as she held one of yours. You took a deep breath and slowly released it. You didn’t know any more now than you did two weeks ago.

 “I got nothin.”

 “Okay, this was a productive chat.” Ebony rolled her eyes, finished her glass of wine and shook her head. “It’s okay to say you want to be with him. You know that right? It’s okay to want to experience this with him. You can be strong and independent together.”

 “Ebony is right. I know those are foreign words when using her name but in this particular situation, she is right. There is nothing wrong with figuring it out together,” Tessa breeched.

 “I have an idea. Maybe the two of you should spend some time together. It will give both of you an opportunity to get to know each other better hence seeing where the two of you are mentally. It should give you some form of an idea what would work and hopefully, that will make it easier to figure out.”

 The four of you sat there thinking about Zee’s idea. It was a good one, a really good one. The kicks began again, and you touched your belly. “You guys wanna feel?”

 All hands flew to your belly and the next ten minutes were spent oohing and aahing over the kicks. After the four of you burrowed into the couches and found a Netflix movie while discussing baby stuff. They were excited for the babies and it showed with how long they were able to talk about it without even mentioning a club or even any of their latest conquests. The more you listened to them the more excited you became.

By the time seven rolled around they’d left and you were alone again. This time you were sitting in your tub trying to get a head start on your schedule for the next day while getting distracted with baby websites. You’d just finished your second bottle of the cherry limonatta you’d just gotten into drinking. It gave you the fizz and sweetness of wine without the alcohol. Who knew knocking the wine for nine months would be such a challenge? That was when your mind ran onto Chadwick. In truth, he wasn’t far from your mind at any given moment. You had his spawn growing in you and they’d been very active today.  

 You chewed your bottom lip and opened a new browser window on your iPad and entered his name in google. Yes, you knew about him, who didn’t, but you didn’t know everything. You were curious. As the search results populated the first one caught your eye; an image of him with a brown-skinned woman. You squinted and you could have sworn you’d seen her from somewhere. You tried to think back to where it could have been but for the life of you, you couldn’t place her face. You clicked the article and skimmed its contents. Her name was Simone and they were dating, or they had until at least a couple months ago. You wondered what happened and if you’d had anything to do with it.

 You continued to go through the search results and read through the first page of articles. You’d found out his upcoming roles, recent interviews, and even learned a little more about what was going on between him and Valentina. Every time you saw a picture of them together you wanted to vomit. After thirty or so minutes you’d gotten a lot of information and you’d come to the conclusion that he seemed to be a pretty good guy. Your iPad was now stopped on a very good shot of him. He was a good-looking man.

 Suddenly your iPad went off making you shriek and jump nearly dropping it into the lukewarm water. Chadwick’s name appeared. You froze unsure exactly what to do. After the third ring, you recovered and tapped the green answer button. His face appeared in a dewy white light. Without thinking you sucked your bottom lip into your mouth admiring his handsomeness.

 “Hi.”

 “Hi,” you repeated on a whisper.

 “Is it late? Am I interrupting? Did I wake you?”

 “No, no, you’re not interrupting. I was awake, just sitting in the bath.”

 Chadwick’s eyebrow shot up as he looked below your face. You looked at your image checking to make sure you weren’t turning this into soft porn. The frame caught the cleavage of your breasts but nothing provocative. He’d seen this before. Chadwick shook his head and brought his eyes back to yours.

 “Uh—I’m sorry.”

 “It’s fine. No harm, no foul.”

 Silence fell between you. The two of you just sat there looking over each other’s faces. The silence didn’t feel awkward at all.

“Are you doing okay?”

 “Yeah, I’m okay. We’re okay.”

 “Do you need anything? Pickles, ice cream, hot wings?”

 You snorted and pinched your lips, he thought he was funny with all the pregnant woman clichés.

 “Those are a lot of clichés sir.”

 “I mean clichés had to start somewhere right?”

 You nodded and leaned back, your body coming down from the anxiety it was in.

 “I don’t crave pickles, the only accurate thing there was the ice cream and hot wings. I’ve also recently started wanted a lot of chocolate-covered strawberries. I can’t seem to get enough which spells trouble for my ass.”

 Chadwick smiled and rubbed his hand along his goatee.

 “This is the one time you can unapologetically adhere to the eating for two phrase, so why not?”

 “Well, eating for three if you want to be accurate.”

 “See, play that shit up.”

 You laughed loud, it echoed through your bathroom. Chadwick joined in and you remembered his deep boisterous laugh that was all unique to him. It was a laugh you first heard in Jamaica across the beach before he approached and danced with you. It was a great laugh. Slowly your laughs died down and again the two of you just stared at each other.

 “Do you uh—do you have a good supply of ice cream, hot wings, and chocolate-covered strawberries?”

 You were tempted to read between the lines but decided against it.

 “Finished the strawberries today, you can never have enough a supple of ice cream or hot wings.”

 He nodded and licked his lips. Your eyes dropped to them and again you remembered the feel of them and how he kissed you. You couldn’t remember their taste though. It had been that long.

 “Would it be all right if we met up?”

 “Met up?”

 “Yeah, I thought maybe we could do something, talk.”

 It sounded like he was asking you out on a date, but it also didn’t sound like he was asking you out on a date.

 “Something like what?”

 “Well, I like to stay away from most places in LA.”

 “I can imagine, the Bleck Pentha gets recognized wherever he goes.”

 Chadwick smiled again but looked away as if he were embarrassed. “Go on laugh it up. Get it out.” You smiled and watched him and spoke on pure instinct without thinking.

 “You can come here.”

 The silence returned and Chadwick just gazed at you and looked as if he were in deep thought. You were holding your breath unsure what his answer would be.

“Are you sure?”

 “Uh—I mean only if you want to. If you don’t then I completely understand. You don’t have to; I’m not trying to force you,” you rushed out in an effort to cover yourself.

 “No, no, I never said I don’t want to. I know you’re not trying to force me. I do want to,” Chadwick rushed out overlapping your voice.

 “You do?” The uncertainty in your voice was evident. You were surprised.

 “I mean—yeah.”

 You smiled small but it took no time at all for it to spread across your face.

 “Okay, sounds like a plan then. We’ll—Netflix and Chill.”

 Chadwick’s eyebrows shot up again and you realized what you’d just said.

 “Oh my god. Wait, I didn’t mean that the way it came out.”

 He laughed his hearty laugh again and you gave you a “yeah right” look. 

“Oh my god, I’m serious. Jesus, I’ll see you in a bit.”

 You ended the call to Chadwick’s laughter. You put your iPad to the side and shook your head, mortified at your tongue slip. 

~~~~~~~~~~

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[maren-as-an-adult]

The 2020 Experience, Part 2

When I flew back to New York a few days later (yes, I braved the airports and a plane) I could not stop crying. What should have been a loving and heartfelt reunion between myself and Graham turned into an awkward situation for him, with me bent double in the front seat of his car sobbing inconsolably.

And suddenly I had to adjust back to life more or less on my own. I couldn’t have friends come over, my family who lived in NYC were too far for me to get to them without public transit, and Graham’s mother was immunocompromised so we couldn’t spend much time together. I was back to sitting at my computer, taking online surveys for the promise of money and sending out application after application. Jena and Julia, my other two roommates, were still not back, so it was just me and Polina.

Things started to get a little better though. I had applied for Medicaid so I had some health coverage again. I scheduled an appointment with my new doctor, I started talking to a therapist again in August, and I stopped budgeting for birth control and got it for free. The after school program was up and running again, this time remotely (only one of my schools was able to host their program though, so my work hours were still cut). I looked forward to every other weekend, where Graham would drive out and pick me up to spend a few nights at his place. Jena came back and announced she was moving out, and our new roommate Michelle moved in. Michelle and I had a lot in common, and I found it easy to talk to and connect with her.

I even got out to see my family. I braved the subway to see my family up in Astoria, and Polina told me about the ferries I could take that brought me to my family on the Upper East Side.

One day in late September, however, I woke up with abdominal pain. It was pretty mild at first, but it kept getting worse. As someone who has periods, I assumed it was just week-early cramps brought on by stress combined with a poor diet that didn’t include much fiber. I tried to assuage the feeling by eating an apple, but after a quick trip to the bathroom it made a reappearance coming back up the way it went down. I decided to do what most people do (and what doctors hate) and look up my symptoms online to try and self-diagnose. The two big contenders for what I was suffering from were IBS or an ulcer. I texted Graham and told him what was up, and he asked what I was going to do. My current plan was to try and wait it out, and if things still felt bad in the morning, I would go to the ER.

If it wasn’t for Graham’s suggestion that I go to an urgent care center (which I had completely forgot existed at this point in time) I may have died.

At 7:12pm I grabbed my bag and walked three blocks to the urgent care center closest to my apartment. Unfortunately, they were no longer taking walk-ins for the day, but told me that another urgent care center was open until 8 and would take walk-ins.

It was 17 blocks away.

I walked 17 blocks with severe abdominal pain to this urgent care center just to be seen and tell a health professional I wasn’t feeling well. I knew there wouldn’t be much they could do, but maybe they could give me a better idea of what was wrong with me. I called Graham and gave him the address of the urgent care center, asking that he come out to be with me. Whatever was happening to me, I did not want to go through it alone.

I made it to the urgent care center fifteen minutes before they closed. I was taken to an observation room where a brusque young Russian woman took down my vitals and information as we waited for the RN to come see me. When he finally did come in and I started telling him what was wrong, I barely finished explaining what happened after I ate and failed to keep down the apple that he interrupted me saying, “You need to go to the ER immediately, because what you described sounds like you have a GI bleed. You’ll need an endoscopy, where they take a camera on a long, thin tube and feed it down in through your stomach and into your intestines to see if you’re bleeding internally.”

It was getting late, I was alone, and I was TERRIFIED.

I was told where the nearest ERs were, was given a printed referral, and then dismissed for the evening. All I could do was wait for Graham and tell him what was going on... and then call my mother and tell her.

I love my mom. I’ll likely never not love my mom for the rest of my life. But sometimes she takes a bad situation and makes me feel even worse. When I told her I had called Graham to come get me, she pointedly asked why I didn’t call any of my family who lived closer than Graham. Well, of my family who live in the greater metropolitan area of New York City, we have:

- My Aunt Barbara and Uncle Danny, currently NOT in NYC and instead staying out in Milford, PA

- My Uncle Brian, Aunt Corinne, and cousin Nikki up in Astoria. My aunt cannot drive and gets panicked easily, my cousin only has her learner’s permit, and my uncle (though I love him) would not be the most comforting presence to me at the moment, being VERY pro-Trump Republican and a FIRM anti-masker

- My Uncle Mike, Aunt Gloria, and cousins Maura (and her husband Andrew), Brendan, and Kevin. Maura, at this point in time, was nine months pregnant and due to give birth any minute, and I was not going to be responsible for pulling my aunt or uncle away from the birth of their first grandchild

With this information presented to my mother, she did concede that calling Graham had not been a terrible idea. Continuing to fret, however, she said I should at least have called them to let them know what was happening. She took it upon herself to do that, and additionally call my father and tell him (dad was on the road at that point and so missed my initial call of “Hey, jsyk, I’m going to the ER, wish me luck!”). Graham pulled up, I ended my mom’s call telling her I’d keep her posted, and headed off to the unknown.

As we were driving to the closest ER, my dad called. Thankfully, he gave advice that calmed me down. He listened to my symptoms, told me it was likely an ulcer, and told me what would happen when I went in: I’d be admitted to the ER, they’d take my vitals, I’d explain my symptoms over and over and over to multiple people, they’d probably admit me overnight, knock me out and do an endoscopy, and in the morning I’d be sent home with a prescription to help with the ulcer. I felt better.

Graham and I made it to the ER at about 8:45pm. I was admitted immediately, my vitals were taken, I was given a cup to pee in, an IV was placed in my arm, my blood was taken, and I told my story to two different doctors and a few different nurses. I went in for an ultrasound to rule out pregnancy, endometriosis, and ovarian cysts. I waited, with Graham by my side.

The doctor came back at about 11:30pm and told me my urinalysis and ultrasound came back unremarkable, but my bloodwork showed a high white blood cell count, which meant my body was fighting off an infection somewhere. This is absolutely something I did and did not want to hear in the middle of a global pandemic. On the one hand, go immune system! Keep me safe, you beautiful, hard-working bitch! On the other hand, what was it my body was fighting off?

The doctor said if I wanted to leave at that point, I could, because nothing obvious was found. “But,” she said, “I would strongly recommend we do a CT scan just to be safe.”

It was late, both Graham and I were tired, and my abdominal pain wasn’t awful to the point where I was bent double anymore. I could stand and walk around with only a slight discomfort. The thought of getting out of the ER, a frankly dangerous place to be in these COVID times, was deliciously appealing.

“What the hell, lets do the CT scan.”

I was given almost two liters of fluid to drink to prep for the scan. It didn’t taste bad, actually, kind of like a flat lemon La Croix that had been left in its aluminum can too long. At 12:30am I went in for the scan. Two hours later, Graham and I were still waiting for the results. At around 2:30am Graham turned to me and said, “Honestly, I’m ready to go. I won’t leave you here alone, but I’m exhausted and ready to get out of here.” I responded, “Honestly, I am too.”

At that moment, a doctor walked around the corner into our area and said, in a too cheery voice, “Hi there! You have appendicitis.”

I swear in that moment I could feel the cosmic force of the universe tremble with suppressed laughter at this finely crafted moment of ironic timing. My only response to the doctor and Graham was, “Well... I guess I’m staying here for the night?” Remember when I thought it was IBS? Couldn’t we go back to that?

I’ve mentioned before the idea of surgery scares me. I’d hoped I’d only have to experience anesthesia from getting my wisdom teeth removed. I fully expected to break down in hysterics then, but I guess I was just too tired and overwhelmed to react in such a big way. I called my mom and told her what was happening, and the first suggestion she made was for me to come home and heal in Chicago.

...mom, I love you, but getting on a plane immediately after major surgery in the MIDDLE OF A GLOBAL PANDEMIC FROM AN AIRBORNE VIRUS is frankly the DUMBEST IDEA EVER.

After realizing that would be a bad move, she suggested she come out to be with me while I heal. While an appealing process, it ultimately wouldn’t be of much use, because she’d have to quarantine for two weeks before seeing anyone at that point. Eventually, she offered to book a hotel room for me and Graham for a long, extended weekend to help me recover. It was extremely generous of her, and I’ll forever be grateful she did it.

I was hooked up to antibiotics to prep for surgery, and the attending surgeon explained the procedure to me. Everyone was so calm and sure of themselves that I felt okay, and the inevitable wave of panic was held off. At 4:30am, I was wheeled up to the operating room. Graham stayed by my side as long as he could and walked all the way to the doors of the OR hallway with me and the attending. I made sure he and my mom had each others’ phone numbers so he could give updates. I was wheeled through the doors, and met with my operating team.

The anesthesiologist and practicing surgeon assured me that they felt fine, well-rested, and at the top of their game, and I was able to relax some as I moved off of my gurney onto the operating table. Once I was on the table, clad only in a thin hospital gown and gripper socks, my body started to shake. Whether it was from the cold or the panic had finally set in I wasn’t sure, but I calmly told the doctors that I thought my fight or flight response was kicking in, and they might need to consider restraining my shaking limbs.

They did, and they also put a heated (and somewhat weighted) blanket over me which relaxed me so my limbs weren’t shaking so violently. An oxygen mask was placed on my face, sealing my nose and mouth into a thick plastic chamber. I tried to breathe deeply and evenly, forcing myself to think of pleasant thoughts and not spiral into a headspace of worst case scenarios. I think what helped most was actually an attending nurse reading out loud my patient chart for posterity and recording’s sake, and he said, “Patient is a twenty-seven year old female named Maureen Ford.”

The annoyance I felt at being misnamed (again as Maureen) cut through the second wave of panic buildup, and my only goal was to correct him. The oxygen mask muffled my voice, but I like to think if you were to listen to the audio recording of my surgery, you would hear, very faintly in the background, me indignantly stating, “It’s pronounced MAREN!”

My last thought before I went under was that I need to make sure that nurse was corrected.

When I woke up, I felt more comfortable than I had in a very long time. The only thing that kept me from being in a total state of comfortable bliss was the slowly incoming knowledge that my mouth was drier than the Sahara desert at noon in July. Despite this, and the residual effects of the anesthesia still in effect, I was pleased to find that not only could I clearly hear and understand the conversations happening around me, I could also coherently speak and communicate with people. I asked for water as soon as I could, and the nurse told me that they’d have to work me up to water. We’d start with a lemon swab in my mouth, followed by ice chips, and then I could get water. The attending surgeon came in to tell me the surgery went smoothly without complications, and I asked her if she could make sure whoever called me Maureen was corrected on my name pronunciation.

I really hope it wasn’t written off as a sleepy patient’s delirious request, because I was absolutely serious about it.

After eating some very powdery eggs and drinking an apple juice, I was discharged and told to get my medications, rest up, avoid lifting anything over 15 pounds, stay away from submerging my sutures in water, and to schedule a one week post-op follow up with my primary care provider and a two week post-op follow up with the attending surgeon.

Graham drove us back to Bay Ridge, and I gave him my keys to go grab some essentials from my apartment. I gave Michelle and Polina a heads up that he was coming up (and I had let them know what was happening before I went into surgery) and that I’d be gone recovering through the weekend and partway into the week. They both wished me a speedy recovery, Graham grabbed a few essentials for me, and we drove up the street to pick up my meds from Rite Aid.

For some reason, they had only filled two of the four prescriptions. One they didn’t fill because it was a controlled substance and the hospital hadn’t submitted the proper authorization for it, and the other prescription (one of two laxatives) I have no idea why it wasn’t filled. Eventually, I got both my pain medications and one of the laxatives, with the other laxative to be filled and picked up at a different Rite Aid, closer to Graham’s work.

Exhausted, sore, hungry, and (in my case) in desperate need of a shower, we made it back to Graham’s to spend one more day there before going off to the hotel my mom had booked us. Graham had been scheduled to work that day, but after calling into the office was told he should only come in if he thought it was absolutely necessary. He ended up catching a few hours of sleep before going in for the late shift at work. I managed to take a shower and fell asleep on his couch as his bed was too soft and sent my abdomen into absolute agony. I blinked in and out of consciousness for the next few hours, waiting for Graham to come home with my last bit of medication. In that time, my dad called to check on me and ask how I felt, what I was prescribed, and what was expected of me. As we were talking Graham called, and I excused myself so I could answer the call. Nothing could have prepared me for what Graham was going to say to me.

“I was just hit by a truck.”

*click*

[angelic-holland]

First Tattoo

Summary: the first in a series of firsts for you and Tom, you do your first tattoo on human skin. Part of my Miss Yer Kiss Series, check out the rest in my masterlist! 

Warnings: just a little fluff

Word count: smidge over 1.1k (mostly dialogue)

“Oh come on; everyone has a stupid tattoo as their first tattoo, look, when I was an apprentice, they made me tattoo his initials on my thigh!” Bruce says, pointing at his husband.

“Yeah and you’re married now! So it worked out!”

“Oh come on, what’s a harmless little Spiderman mask on your thigh gonna do?”

“It’s going to suck, does it have to be this elaborate?”

“It’s not that elaborate, you’re the one who drew it, why’d you make it hard on yourself? ,” Bryce says, “and besides you’ve practiced for weeks on synthetic skin, the next step before tattooing anyone else is tattooing yourself.”

“Fine, can we maybe not have everyone watching me though?”

“Alright, you heard her, clear the room, except for Amanda, she’ll record it so I can help and give you pointers.”

You sigh and nod as everyone shuffled out of the small tattooing room.

“Take a deep breath, just like you’ve been practicing, combined with all the times you’ve gotten tattoos before,” Bryce comforts you. 

You were ready, the area is sterile, you had shaved, had the lotion and lubricant ready. Tattoo machine in one hand, the stencil was laid on your skin already, you just had to start.

“Okay, okay, but if he breaks up with me because of this I’ll kill you,” you grumble. 

“Easy tiger, he won’t, you kidding? He literally flew to New York on his way to do press for his movie just to see you.”

“Shut up, I needa focus,” you say, picking up ink with the needle.

Bryce and Amanda watch as you start the tattoo machine, bringing it to start your first line ever on human skin. You prepare yourself for the feeling of the tattoo, relaxing your thigh as the needle glides across it. You are able to get half the face’s line before you pull the needle up, just like you practiced. 

“See? Was it that bad?” Bryce asks and you look down at your work. 

“The line is a little wonky, this part is bigger than the other part.”

“So what will you do about it?”

“Well I could let it be or I could add a little more to the other line, but I don’t want to do that and then add too much, you know?”

“So what you’ll do, finish the other line, finish the eyes, then you’re switching from a seven needle to a three needle for the details? Use that to finish the line on this side.”

“Okay, that makes sense, thanks Bryce.”

“It looks good otherwise, an even drag of the machine, meaning one part won’t look splotchy while the other comes out smooth black.”

“Okay, let’s get this done,” you say, grabbing more ink and starting on the other side. You’re able to do a better line this go around, getting used to the feeling of actual skin under the buzz of the needle. It’s still not the best, but the line is one size throughout the whole thing. 

You finish the tattoo in a bit under an hour, cleaning the area with water then witch hazel, before letting Amanda take a few photos of it for Instagram. 

“Before you post it could I please FaceTime Tom? He’s supposed to be in LA so he should be like waking up now.”

“Of course,” Bruce says, “but you gotta seal that up first, and clean up.”

You toss the needles in the sharps container, putting away the machine after cleaning it, throwing out all the gloves, packages, and sterile wrapping. 

You put on the adhesive healing second skin around the tattoo, smoothing it out before looking at Bryce, “good to call him?”

He nods and you grab your phone from the equipment table, scrolling to the last person you FaceTimed, Tom, you called him last night before he went to bed, exhausted after a day of interviews for his movie, he still insisted on calling you most nights. 

“Love the sound of your voice, so gentle, helps me sleep.”

So you’d stay up a little later than normal, talking to him about anything and everything until you heard his gentle snores from the other end.

“Morning princess,” you see him on your phone, hair messy as he props an arm under his head, slowly blinking.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”

“No, was just waking up now, I’d rather your voice than an alarm clock anyway.”

“So, I did my first tattoo. Real tattoo that is-,”

“Oh really? Wow, that’s amazing princess, what was it? Who’d you do it on?”

“So as tradition, tattoo artists do their first tattoo on real skin on their own.”

“Wait, you had to tattoo your own skin? Isn’t that hard?”

“Wasn’t too bad,” you shrug. 

“What’d you do? What’d you get?” He asks eagerly, all sleepiness out of his voice. 

“Okay, promise not to laugh?”

“Only if it’s not funny,” he jokes and you roll your eyes before flipping the camera over. 

“Is that Spiderman?” His voice got all high pitched and you were slightly scared you had gone too far. Sure you were ‘dating’ but come on, a permanent reminder of him on your body? No matter how much you told yourself it was just a character. 

“Yes,” you whisper.

“I had her do it,” Bryce pipes up.

“I love it!” He all but shouts.

“Tom, shut the fuck up bro I’m trying to sleep,” you hear Harry shout and Tom laugh. 

“I cannot wait to see that in person,” he says excitedly. 

 “And when do I get to see your pretty face in person?”

“Well, I finish up here in a few days, I think I might take a quick detour in New York, then I’ve got a two week break in London before I’m off to Bali.”

“You don’t haveta stop here, spend time with your family, you don’t get much of it for the next month or so.”

“No, family can wait, I miss you.”

“Trust me,” you hear Harry groan, “he doesn’t shut up about you, think I’m gonna lose my mind if I hear anymore about you, no offense.”

You laugh and turn the phone back to your face, “Okay, I’d like to see ya too, when do I get to meet Mr. Feisty?” you smile.

“Me? I’m being dragged along with him.”

“Yes, New York is just so horrible to visit,” you laugh again.

“Alright, I’ll let you get back to tattooing princess.”

“See ya soon Tom,” finger hovering over the ‘end call’ button. 

“Bye, lov-,” He starts before you hang up.

Was that? No, it wasn’t, you shake your head, pushing the thought to the back of your mind.

“Okay, so when do you think I could get real clients?” You turn to Bryce and ask. 

[angrylizardjacket]

bodyache {Joe Mazzello/Reader/Lucy Boynton} [1]

Cryptid AU

Summary: Reader is sick, and Lucy and Joe want nothing more than to come and make her feel better, but there’s more at play here than just a headache.

A/N: 4773 words. I’m worried it’s too exposition-y. I meant this to be one thing but I had to stop it where I did because it’s 2am, and I think it would benefit from being 2 parts. anyways, feedback please would be great! :)

Reminder: Lucy is a witch. Joe is a demon. Rami is an angel. Gwil is a dryad. Ben is an alien.

----

You've had this headache for what feels like a week. It didn't start off too bad, it wasn't like you were hit with a sudden wave of pain behind your eyes, more like someone had been slowly tightening a vice on your skull for three days. Yesterday it was a slight bother. Today it was a problem.

"Is there anything either of you can suggest - non-magical -" you have to specify over Skype to Joe and Lucy that night, "to help?"

"I don't have any traditional cures anymore, I'm sorry, dear." Lucy frowns, looking a little lost.

"And I've never actually had a headache," Joe muses, "so I can't exactly help you."

"Yeah, rub it in why don't you," you grumbled, squeezing your eyes closed, rubbing at your brow. After a moment, Joe gives a surprisingly gentle apology, and you can't help but sigh. "Sorry, it's just been a long day, the internet says it should go away if I drink water but I've had like four glasses and it's still there." When you crack your eyes open, you see them both looking back at you with concern written all over their faces. For just a moment, your heart softens, and the pain dulls just a little. "I miss you guys."

This is the longest the three of you have been apart since they first agreed to go ghost hunting with you. Since the press tour had ended, and the, let's say eventful hunting trips had ended, you were being whisked back to your office in LA, and they had gone back to the UK and New York to see family and wind down after the tour. But it meant you were all apart, which was sometimes difficult after everything you'd been through.

"That balm I made to help you sleep should keep the pain away while you're unconscious," Lucy tries, but it obviously upsets her to see you in pain. She looks like she's contemplating coming to see you in person, and you know you should wave her off, let her spend time at home, but your head feels like a grape being squished. You stay quiet.

The pain gets worse as the days go by and sometimes you think you see something out of the corner of your eyes, something malevolent, or maybe you think that there's people watching you as you pass by different desks at work. But you're pretty sure, at least at first, that it's just your mind playing tricks on you. You buy more pain killers, and you drink plenty of water, and you use the balm that Lucy made that knocks you out cold every night.

The pain in your mind plateaus at a point where you can barely ignore it, but not at the point where it's worth anyone else worrying about, and the Tylenol feels like a lifesaver most days.

Until it's not.

"You're Cheryl's assistant, right? You went with her on the BoRhap tour, didn't you?" The man at the door is familiar in a way that means he's new and unfamiliar, that you've only seen him around the office a few times; he'd started just before you'd arrived back from the tour, apparently.

Weakly, you nod. The painkillers are about as effective as sugar pills today.

"So you like know them? The cast, like did you meet them and stuff?" He asks, far too eager and ignoring your obviously pained expression. Crossing his arms, he leans against the doorframe of your office. You don't answer, and for the barest moment, with your head in your hands, you feel the pain, the pressure in your head lessen, just a little. "It's alright if you don't want to talk about it." He says, gentler this time.

"Huh?"

"The Bohemian Rhapsody cast, I just, I wanna know what they're like!"

His name is Marcus, and there's something about him that doesn't seem right. But you're not sure what.

He keeps stopping to make small talk with you in the office, will be getting lunch at the same cafe as you, and always seems to say goodbye to you when you leave for the day. It would be kind of nice, just rather friendly, if his very presence didn't set you on edge for some reason you just can't quite put your finger on.

But you can ignore it. Your headaches are marginally better, and soon enough you have bigger things to worry about. Like Joe pressing the buzzer to your apartment. Repeatedly. At 3am.

"What are you doing here?" You grumble and yawn once he's at your actual door after being buzzed in and taking the elevator up.

"Couldn't sleep," he muses, peering into your apartment, though you refuse to move.

"It's not like you need it anyways, seriously, why are you here?" You ask, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. With your arms crossed over your chest, anyone else would have looked a little bit put out at being denied entry, but Joe just looks concerned.

"Headaches still bothering you?" He asked, and it's here you drop his gaze, becoming acutely aware of the now ever-present ache in your skull. Slowly, slowly enough that you could stop him if you wanted, Joe reaches out to take your face in his hands. He's warm, he always runs warm, but your gaze meets his and he looks like he's concentrating.

"I'm not great at this," he admits under his breath, and as you realise what he's doing you wrench out of his grip, snatching up his hand and pulling him into your apartment. You close the door behind him, and for a moment he's so worried that he's made you angry, but when you look at him, it's not with a glare, but with concern.

"In the hallway? Are you kidding? That's so reckless!"

"I'm always reckless, have you met me?" He grins, but steps up to you, holds your face gently once more. This time, however, you lean into his touch, let your eyes fall closed as the familiarity of his warmth eases your poor, stressed and sore heart. "And it's three in the morning, who's gonna see?" He asks quietly, but it sounds distracted, and already you can feel the pain in your mind beginning to dissolve.

He doesn't get all of it, but it's much better than it was before, and when he announces that he did what he could, bringing your face close to his so he could drop a kiss on your forehead, you surge forward and wrap your arms around him.

"No, it's great, it's awesome, thank you so much," you murmur, and he hugs you back, holds you tight and mutters about how Lucy's better at that sort of stuff, but you pull back and kiss him to shut him up.

Much to your surprise, he admits easily how much he's missed you, won't even pretend he had some obviously fake motive, just toed off his shoes when you head back to bed, and tells you that he and Lucy had been worried, but her flight wouldn't get her to you until tomorrow afternoon- actually, it's after midnight; this afternoon. You turn off the heater since Joe is warmer than a furnace, and the two of you settle in to bed together, curled up, your head on his chest.

"You don't have a heartbeat," you mutter, and Joe hums for a moment. The way the thump of his heartbeat starts so suddenly in his chest makes goosebumps rise on your arms.

"Babe that's really freaky," you rest your chin on his chest and fix him with a concerned look.

"I can make it sound like bongos, you wanna hear?" He grins brightly.

"Horrifying." But still you lay back down, and he keeps the rhythm of his heartbeat steady. His fingers ghost along your bare arm and with your headache mostly alleviated, you can feel yourself drifting off again. "Love you." You yawn, and he pets your arm gently.

"I love you too."

You wake up for work the next morning feeling better than you have in almost three weeks. Joe walks you the few blocks to your office, his arm around you, the two of you chatting easily about nothing much, which turns to excitement about seeing Lucy again. There's a few moments where you catch people staring and you know it's not your imagination and you find yourself remembering that Joe is in fact quite a big deal in his own right, especially with Bohemian Rhapsody so close to releasing, and you're hit with a wave of insecurity.

But it seems Joe doesn't notice, too distracted looking up at the building you work in. There's a deep frown wrinkling his brow, and there's concern in his voice when he asks you if this is the place.

You nod.

He blinks up at the building and you catch sight of his irises and whites swallowed up by an inky darkness as, for just a moment, he looks with his true sight.

"Maybe this place is giving you headaches," and when he looks at you, his eyes are back to normal; if you didn't know any better, you could play it off as a trick or the light, "weird vibes." He adds.

"You and your vibes," you smirk, giving him a shove, "it's probably just a vampire in legal or something." Joe groans, loud and faux put upon, scrunching his face up.

"A vampire? Ah, geeze of course I'm getting bad vibes-"

"I know, I know," you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck, "never met a vampire who liked you." Voice quiet, you try and placate him with a sweet kiss, but he can't help himself.

"They just don't like that I -"

"You're about to say something weirdly specific that we can't pass off as a euphemism the way we can with vampires," you advise. He nods in solemn agreement, and you leave for work.

At about midday, your phone starts going off with messages, and you have to pause where you’re making small talk with Marcus to check it. It’s the group chat between yourself and your partners.

Lucy 💖: when do you have lunch? just got in. want to see you xx Squishy Human: in about an hour and a half. hope your flight was good. excited to see you too!! Devilman Crybaby: do i make a joke about broomsticks or ‘your arms must be tired’ Lucy 💖: broom parking is cheaper in england so unfortunately i flew here like a regular person 😘😘 Devilman Crybaby: then your arms must be tired 😘

Lucy 💖 changed Squishy Human’s nickname to Precious Human. Devilman Crybaby changed Lucy 💖’s nickname to Sabrina the Teenage Witch 💖. Precious Human changed the group chat name to No Bad Vibes.

“What’s got you so smiley?” Marcus asks, giving you a gentle nudge, though the moment he comes within even a centimetre of touching you, your headache spikes and your mood sours.

“My girlfriend just got in to town, it’s been a while since I’ve seen her,” you say, careful not to say too much; for all they’re casual with you, Joe and Lucy are still celebrities. Marcus is giving off a seriously werid energy, maybe you should have Lucy or Joe run some sort of supernatural background check on him... which you weren’t entirely sure they could do, neither of them was really forthcoming about the extent of their powers, persay, but you could at least bring up the suggestion.

But for the moment, he seems happy for you, and he moves on and lets you get back to your work.

When you step out of your building and into the blinding afternoon sunlight, you take a few moments to blink, to orientate yourself with your headache still pulsing by your temples. After a moment of glaring at the clear, blue sky, you’re greeted by a familiar feminine voice, though when you turn, it’s not to a familiar face.

“Hello dear,” it’s Lucy’s voice, you’d know it anywhere, but the woman definitely doesn’t look like Lucy. She’s blonde, lithe and angular, but you’re pretty sure that’s where the similarities stop.

“Excuse me?” Of course you’re hesitant, you’re about sixty percent sure it’s Lucy, but it’s also LA, and you’re already wrapped up in some strange, supernatural stuff, so you can never really be too careful. 

“Oh, sorry, it’s me, it’s Lucy. I’m trying out a new glamour,” relief floods through you at her words; you didn’t exactly have any reason to not believe her. You can’t help but smile, and then she’s grinning brightly back; even for the illusion, you’d never be able to mistake that smile for anyone else’s. 

When she hugs you, she murmurs a much gentler, much fonder greeting into the crook of your neck, and something about just holding her close eases the aching in your mind. Though she shifts so she can look at you, her elegant fingers coming to ghost across your brow, she doesn’t move back, doesn’t move away.

“There is something there,” she murmurs, thoughtful more than anything else. It feels like she’s looking through you, looking past you, seeing something more beyond what everyone else could. It was a little unnerving.

“Hey,” voice gentle, you call her back to reality, expression gentle, and yeah it felt a little weird to be looking at a face that was not entirely Lucy’s, the familiar warmth of her in your arms was enough to reassure you, “let’s get some lunch before you start telling me my brain is haunted.” You joke, and Lucy’s answering smile is soft, her hand coming to rest on your cheek as she agrees easily. 

Meeting her halfway, the way she kisses you is all too familiar, sweet and gentle in the afternoon light. It feels like you can breathe again for the first time in a long time.

Sabrina the Teenage Witch 💖 sent a photo to No Bad Vibes.

Devilman Crybaby: Who Is She Devilman Crybaby: Who is that with Y/N?? Lucy is that the source of her headaches?? Precious Human: omfg joe Devilman Crybaby: ??? Sabrina the Teenage Witch 💖: That’s me Sabrina the Teenage Witch 💖: I’m using a glamour. Precious Human: 😂😂😂 Devilman Crybaby: oh. Devilman Crybaby: you guys are adorable im so stupid 😂😍

“There’s something strange about you,” Lucy’s frowning at you across the table where you’re both eating lunch in your favourite cafe, and isn’t that a strange thought. If someone told you a year ago that you’d be sharing lunch with Lucy Boynton, actual witch and your girlfriend, you’d absolutely have laughed until you’d cried, yet here you were.

“You-weird, or regular people weird?” You ask around a mouthful of the sandwich you’d bought.

“Well,” and she gives a small smile, looking down at where she’s stabbing at her fruit salad absent-mindedly with her fork, “there’s always something strange about you, but that’s strange I’m used to; our strange rubs off on you, you can’t help that.” At that you frown, but keep quiet, just wait for her to elaborate, “okay,” she finally concedes, “for all we make fun of Joe for his obsession with the concept of vibes, it’s the only way I can describe this phenomena; each of us, me, Joe, Rami, Ben, Gwil, and everyone like us, if we’re around someone for an extended period of time, someone like you, we tend to leave...” pausing, she ate a piece of watermelon, looking thoughtful, “we leave vibes, like a proof of our existence.”

“You guys have marked me?” You snort, and Lucy’s eyes go wide, as does her grin.

“Not in a physical sense, it’s more like perfume -” though she reflexively frowned, “I mean, Rami’s almost literally is, from what I can recall, but he’s an angel so what else would you expect.”

“Like perfume,” you muse, “so it fades?”

“Yes, usually after maybe a week or so? Depends, it’s different for everyone.”

“So if Rami’s perfume, what’s Joe?” Your grin turns wicked, “is it wet dog? Burnt toast? I’m going with smells here, are the vibes like smells? What does someone like Joe vibe?” You ask pointedly, wiggling to get more comfortable in your seat, your sandwich forgotten as you leaned forward eagerly. Idly you knew there had to be day-to-day effects of exposure to supernatural creatures, but it was exciting to get confirmation.

“Everyone’s vibe is different, it’s not necessarily a smell; Gwil is the feeling of waking up from a nap in an orchard on a perfect Summer afternoon,” Lucy spoke around a grape and piece of honeydew, “Ben’s hard to describe; the best I can give you is like... pop rocks? But pop rocks that aren’t of this galaxy.” She half laughs, and you nod; makes sense. “But Joe,” her smile becomes almost adoring, so fond as she considered him, “he’s cinnamon whiskey.” Laughing a little, her eyes roam your face, searching. “The others have faded, but he’s there; it’s strange, him being the only familiar one I can sense.”

And there it is again, that concern, that feel like she’s looking at you but not really seeing you.

“It’s like someone set fire to a wasps nest!” It’s the single least comforting thing anyone has ever said to you, and she says it like she’s solved some great mystery. At your blatant concern, she finally meets your gaze, and reaches slowly to tap your temple; as she does so, your headache spikes, making you visibly wince, though she moment she withdraws her hand the pain eases, “I’ve been trying to figure out what it felt like, it’s all by your temples, bunched up there.”

“Can you do anything about it? That sounds horrifying.” Leaning back, you can’t help but frown, anxiety beginning to pool in your stomach.

“Not here,” Lucy answers, her expression mirroring your own, “after you finish work we can figure something out, I promise.” You let it go, let it slide, it’s not bothering you much at the moment, so you just let yourself enjoy her company.

“What’s your vibe?” You ask, after a long moment and a few more bites of your lunch. Lucy gives a strange little smile.

“I don’t have a very strong aura; I’m still mostly human -”

“You’re like four hundred.”

“I’m a child compared to the rest of them, and,” she hesitates, “I’m the only one who started out completely human,” she admits, and that comes as news to you, though you try not to let your shock show on your face, “it’s not really my place to talk about it but, yeah, by a lot of people’s standards I’m just a very hardy human with a lot of tricks up my sleeve.” Though she looks a little forlorn, it only takes her a moment to smile again, this time gentle and warm, “I’m not sure about my vibe right now, but Joe can sense it pretty well, ask him.”

Though your headache had subsided over lunch, it comes back with a vengeance back in the office, and you’re practically counting down the minutes until you can head home. Thankfully Marcus leaves you alone for the afternoon, though he gives you a strange look when you get back in from lunch. You don’t dwell on it.

Devilman Crybaby: @Precious Human something is wrong with your apartment Precious Human: oh hell what did you break? Devilman Crybaby: no, that’s lucy saying that. she just showed up. Devilman Crybaby: also she’s right. Precious Human: ???�� Precious Human: What Does That Mean Sabrina the Teenage Witch 💖: can you meet us at the restaurant across from your place after work? Precious Human: yeh of course Precious Human: seriously, what’s wrong with my apartment??

You find them both tucked away in the back corner of the Chinese restaurant across the road from your apartment, talking quiet enough that no-one passing by would be able to hear them. Joe looks uncharacteristically serious. Lucy’s still in her glamour.

“It’s not random; you’re being targeted.” Lucy tells you flatly as you slide into the booth opposite the both of them.

“Hello to you too, super ominous greeting, thanks,” your eyebrows rise as you look between them, unamused, concerned more than anything else.

“How was work?” Joe gives a brief reprieve and slight smile, bumping your foot with his under the table. You sigh, unable to bring yourself to smile back, shrugging.

“Weird.” 

He nods in understanding, and you both turn your attention back to Lucy.

“Sorry, hello dear, I didn’t mean to alarm you, I’m just worried,” she sighed, reaching out across the table to take your hand in hers, “it feels like someone’s purposefully giving you negative energy, like they’ve been overloading you with it for a while, and you carry it home with you and-”

“It’s all over my apartment,” you feel your breath catch in your throat, eyes going wide in realisation.

“Yeah,” Joe nodded grimly, “I felt it last night but I didn’t want to worry you in case my senses were off or something; I thought it was a mistake.” There’s a strange quality to his voice, a muted anger that seems to surprise even Lucy, and when the two of you turn to him, his gaze dips.

“What do you mean?” Lucy asked quietly, and Joe looked up, giving a tight smile.

“I thinks it’s one of mine.”

“Yours?” You ask with a slight frown. He gives you a very pointed look.

Oh. His. Demon. Oh no.

“How do you know?” You hear yourself ask, and even Lucy seems interested in hearing the answer.

“So Luce told you about, like, vibes and shit,” Joe began, avoiding both of your gazes and fidgeting, “well for people, ah, like me, we have some control over that - some - but there’s a catch; we, I’m gonna say run warm, and our vibes or whatever always reflect that. At first it’s like a warning sign for anyone who can sense it, like ‘stay away! This dude somehow feels like a forest fire!’, you know? But as we get older, we can change it so that it’s less aggressive, if we want it to be, but it’s still warm, and it’s a very slow going process.” He pauses, considers, “I have a friend, granted they’re much older than me, and they’re like falling asleep in a sunbeam. It’s cosy, but they use it to lure in other creatures who can sense it, like an angler fish, you know?”

For the barest moment you find yourself painfully aware of the fact that Joe Mazzello, the man sitting across from you, is a literal demon, an apex predator, and older than he’ll ever admit. The fact that he’s sitting across from you, his knee knocking yours beneath this little table, so calm and nonthreatening, it’s more than a little terrifying when you think about it.

“Are you okay?” Joe brings you back to reality, looking at you with concern.

“Yeah, I’m - why?” You say, still feeling a thrum of nervous anxiety running through you, both from the realisation that Joe was a terrifying and probably ancient demon, and that a different demon might be targeting you. After a beat, you pinched the bridge of your nose, exhaling, another memory coming to you, “it’s still weird that you can tell when I’m afraid.”

“Listen, if I could turn off that particular sense of mine, I would, everyone’s so afraid nowadays,” Joe grumbles, adjusting to sit lower in his seat, actually pouting, “and it’s not even fun fear; the twenty-sixteen clown sightings? That was fun; like candy- it was like fairy floss to me. Now all I’ve got is climate change and politics, it’s like I’m stuck eating drywall.” His words leave you reeling, and even Lucy looks a little concerned, but Joe just huffed. “Anyways, it’s probably one of my lot, but I don’t recognise it; last person I knew who had an affinity for putting wasps in their aura is taking a vacation at the bottom of Marianas Trench.”

There’s no way you’re heading back to the apartment tonight, a sentiment which all three of you agree upon, and so that’s how you find yourself in a hotel a few blocks from your house. Since you hadn’t been able to go home, you find yourself in a fluffy bath robe provided by the establishment after your shower.

“You look so cute like that,” Joe grins from where he’s lounging on the bed, watching TV idly while Lucy keeps pulling things from her suitcase. The moment she’d stepped into the hotel room she’d taken off the charm bracelet she’d been wearing, and her glamour had dropped away.

Now she looked like herself, carefully lining up dried herbs and other ingredients, looking back and forth between them and an old looking book. When you climb onto the bed beside Joe, you take a moment to watch her, quiet and contemplative, before shifting to lie against his chest.

“What’s Lucy’s vibe?” You recall your earlier conversation, and Lucy grows still where she’s working.

“She didn’t tell you?” Joe asks, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you close so he could rub circles against your back.

“I couldn’t; I’m terrible at sensing my own aura,” Lucy shoots a sheepish smile over her shoulder, and Joe laughs, the sound low and warm in his chest. This time when you look at him, his eyes are a cool, glassy black; pupil, iris, whites, all swallowed up by darkness.

“It’s harder to sense any auras of vibes without suped-up eyes like mine,” he wriggles his eyebrows with a grin, and it’s not as unnerving as you thought it would be, stifling a laugh as you watched him watch Lucy. “But Lucy does a pretty impressive job; she’s the first witch I’ve met with an aura,” Joe muses frowning a little, and Lucy goes back to her work, “it changes more than anyone else’s I’ve met; her vibes are whatever was involved with the last spell she cast.”

“So right now?” You prompt, and Joe smiles fondly.

“Like indescribably metallic, and the sound of those charms on her bracelet knocking together, a little bit of thyme, and a lemon zest spray I’m pretty sure, and- vanilla,” as he speaks, Lucy nods in confirmation for each of them, “but she always has a bit of a vanilla thing going on.”

“It’s the reason I can see auras at all,” Lucy explained, mostly to you as Joe was nodding along like he already knew this.

It felt good to be back with them both, it felt safe. Lucy had her things laid out across the desk, but once she’d done some basic warding on the room, she seemed content to curl up by your other side. The tricky stuff could wait until tomorrow, all three of you finally had a moment to enjoy one another.

The three of you catch each other up on your lives on what’s been happening, not that you didn’t know most of it, you messaged daily after all, but it was good to talk in person. As Lucy talks about a few upcoming projects she’s interested in, she rests her head in your lap, and you card your fingers through her hair. Joe, meanwhile, where he’s sitting beside you against the headboard, rests his head on your hand. The headache you’d been steadily trying to ignore starts to subside; it’s like finding shade and cold water in the middle of the desert, a reprieve, a break from the irritation. With the pain no longer keeping you on high alert, you feel the exhaustion of the past few days settling in, and your hand comes to still in Lucy’s hair.

“I tried clearing the negative stuff,” Joe explains to the witch, who gives a grateful smile as she reaches up to cup your jaw, “I’m still not great at it; aura cleaning has never been a speciality.”

“But it looks like it’s done her a world of good,” Lucy says gently, running her thumb along your cheek, and you yawn and nod, “sweetheart, if you want to go to sleep, feel free; we’re not gonna go anywhere.” Joe leans his head on your shoulder, and you press a kiss to the top of his head.

“I love you guys,” you murmur, and Lucy’s already obligingly moving from your lap so you can get under the covers. 

Between them you’re safe and secure; come what may tomorrow, but tonight there’s nowhere you’d rather be.

[amortm]

      *  𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒  𝐔𝐏  ,  pretty  kitties  !   i'm  terribly  sorry  abt  my  absence  on  the  dash  alongside  you  angels  ,  &  trust  that  i’m  fully  embarrassed  of  my  slow  ass  ,  but  i  finally  typed  this  baby  out  ,  &  i  can’t  wait  for  y’all  to  meet  my  love  ,  𝒋𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔  !

*  ╰   it’s  an  absolute  dishonour  to  meet  you ,   julianna  /  jules  .  at   twenty - one  ,  you’ve  disgraced  the   peralta   family  name  &  failed  to  carry  on  their  legacy  as  an  elite  .  as  a  result  ,  they’ve  requested  that  we  at  the  academy  do  our  best  to  rid  you  of  your  venality  ,  & seeing  as  though  they’re  worth  86m  ,  we  dutifully  obliged  .  while  your   pleonastic  &  inexorable  attributes  have  always  promised  failure  ,  it’s  your  spar  with   pride  &  ghosting  your  breakout  acting  role  after  you  found  out  your  daddy  secured  it  for  you   that  got  you  committed  .  before  we  take  possession  of  you  ,  it’s  imperative  that  we  know  that  you  are  a   cisfem  who  prefers   she  &  her  pronouns  ,  &  you  resemble   diana  silvers  .  your  birthday  is  on   april  26th  ,  making  you  a  recalcitrant  taurus  ,  &  you  were  transported  to  us  all  the  way  from   vail  ,  co  .  at  the  present  time  ,  you  work  off  campus  at   seaside  florist  .  go  ahead  &  purchase  that  extra  large  suitcase  ,  disgrace  .  you’re  going  to  need  it . 

your  name  /  age  /  pronouns  /  timezone  /  etc  .

hiya  loves  !   i  go  by  blue  &  she  /  her  pronouns  ,   i’m  9teen  ,   &  i’m  a  pst  baby  !   i’m  one  of  the  six  lovely  admins  @  #unholy  ,   &  they’re  all  superstars  ,   so  imagine  my  daily  awe  !   anyway  ,   i’m  beyond  excited  to  finally  get  the  ball  rolling  ,   &  share  the  dash  with  you  babes  !

 muse  inspo  .

noora  sætre  ,   the  goldfinch  ,   ella  of  frell  ,   neil  perry  ,   charlie  dalton  ,   claire  saffitz  ,   monica  geller  ,   carla  lalli  music  ,   mia  thermopolis  ,   adam  parrish  ,   blue  sargent  ,   anna  ou  !

 character  details  :

    💐 :   sweetly  judgmental  ,  adoringly  vindictive   /   vindictively  adoring  ,   witty  ‘n  gritty  ,   bitingly  tender  ,   expressively  stubborn  ,   softly  feral  !

    😈 :   hershey’s  chocolate  ,   brooklyn  pizza  ,   baguettes  ,   collector  edition  copies  of  wuthering  heights  ,   selfies  ,   her  mom  ,   richard  siken  anthologies  ,   twilight  (  #teamedward  )  ,   crowded  movie  theaters  ,   english  gardens  ,   the  air  in  new  york  ,   the  air  in  vail  ,   snowboarding  ,   her  hair  ,   hot  chocolate  (  no  whipped  cream  ,   half  a  bag  of  mini  marshmallows  dumped  atop  )  ,   andrew  garfield  ,   her  discover  weekly  playlist  ,   german  shepherds  ,   harry  potter  ,   lord  of  the  rings  ,   comedies  ,   horror  movies ,   nude  lipstick  ,   chocolate  chip  toffee  cookies  with  sea  salt  drizzled  on  top  ,   mamma  mia  franchise  ,   dissertations  ,   driving  ,   any  typa  jacket  /  coat  ,   being  the  big  spoon  ,   her  father  ,   coca  cola  ,   lilies  ,   disney  t - shirts  ,   her  father’s  films  ,   take  out  ,   farms  ,   italy  (  every  single  crevice  of  it  )  ,   the  plaza  hotel  ,   mint  chip  ice  cream  ,   hats  ,   trains ,   monthly  horoscopes  ,  ancient  history  ,   greenwich  village  ,   maggie  rogers  ,   mating  ritual  ,   vampire  weekend  ,   mitski  ,   the  wombats  ,   magic  bronson  ,   jade  bird  ,   hockey  ,   pretending  to  be  a  fairy / witch  /  mermaid  as  a  child  ,   naruto  ,   avatar  the  last  airbender  ,   stepping  over  state  /  country  lines  ,   hot  water  with  honey  ,   amazon  prime  !

    👿 :   the  marvel  franchise  except  for  the  captain  america  &  thor  trilogies  ,   coffee  &  tea  ,   shorts  ,   sweet  potatoes  ,   layovers  of  any  length  ,   socks  ,   soy  milk  ,   her  arms  ,   chihuahuas  ,   a  song  of  fire  &  ice  novels  ,   super  fudgy  /  rich  cake  &  brownies  ,   cooking  for  herself  ,   being  told  what  to  do  ,   being  wrong  &  having  everyone  know  it  ,   people  who  are  rude  to  employees  ,   bad  tipping  ,   margaret  atwood  ,   her  first  grade  teacher  ,   plastic  coke  bottles  ,   too  much  pepper  in  a  dish  !

 upbringing  &  family  life  ,  life  before  the  academy  ,  etc  .

     julianna  rachel  peralta  was  born  to  a  beauty  -  charmed  family  of  three  ,   with  a  new  yorker  mother  &  italian  father  birthing  the  healthiest  &  happiest  girl  parents  can  dream  for  .    her  mother  ,  susanna  ‘ susie ’  peters  ,   was  coined  the  model  that  pioneered  90′s  fashion  ,  a  la  kate  moss  ,   &  met  julianna’s  father  ,   elio  peralta   (  think  the  francis  ford  coppola  of  this  verse  )  ,   whilst  she  was  briefly  on  set  for  jack  to  see  friend  fran  drescher  .    their  love  stemmed  from  there  ,   after  she  made  a  mocking  comment  &  he  overhead  &  mocked  her  in  return  for  it  ,   &  the  whirlwind  romance  that  captivated  their  world  for  the  next  few  years  led  to  miss  jules  being  born  .    neither  of  her  parents  desired  marriage  from  each  other  ,   rather  believing  that  their  love  knew  no  bounds  ,   even  those  of  matrimony  ,   but  never  did  it  dim  the  bond  held  between  the  small  family  of  three  .    once  jules  was  in  their  arms  ,   they  relocated  from  new  york  to  colorado  ,   into  the  quaint  town  of  vail  ,   surrounded  by  pristine  mountains  &  crystalline  air  ,   where  susie  &  elio  found  a  pocket  of  indisputable  peace  after  a  small  winter  trip  in  their  first  year  of  romance  .

        it  was  there  that  jules  grew  up  ,   &  there  that  the  love  of  her  parents  faltered  .    her  mother  missed  the  world  of  fashion  ,   the  rhythms  &  rhymes  of  the  space  she  knew  as  well  as  in  maintaining  the  fame  that  spotlighted  her  so  ,   while  elio’s  passions  for  turning  out  film  after  film  dwindled  .    &  when  the  offer  from  vogue  came  in  ,   waxing  poetic  about  a  fresh  position ��as  a  fashion  editor  ,   both  she  &  elio  knew  that  their  paths  would  veer  .    their  love  was  no  less  ,   but  integral  factors  of  their  relationship  were  now  fractured  ,   &  they  each  desired  after  different  things  .    this  was  all  said  to  julianna  ,   in  soft  tones  &  with  assuring  words  .    yet  ,   never  was  it  promised  that  everything  would  be  the  same  as  it  was  ,   for  the  truth  was  in  something  unsaid  .    susie  moved  to  new  york  ,   while  elio  &  jules  stayed  in  that  mansion  in  the  mountains  ,   &  all  was  as  fair  &  well  as  it  could  be  ,   with  julianna  staying  with  her  mom  during  the  fall  season  &  discovering  every  little  piece  of  italy  in  the  summers  .    christmases  &  hanukkahs  were  always  shared  in  vail  ,   &  susie  tagged  along  european  dives  when  her  schedule  allowed  for  it  .    it  was  as  if  their  relationship  &  subsequent  uncoupling  were  trivial  details  no  one  could  bother  to  account  for  ,  until  ,   in  the  worst  spot  she’s  ever  seen  her  mother  ,   it  came  out  that  elio  peralta  found  a  new  woman  to  share  a  life  with  ,   &  that  their  new  life  together  would  be  housed  in  the  same  home  that  susie  &  elio  specially  chose  &  ,   in  emotional  terms  ,  truly  built  themselves  &  carved  their  family  in  its  foundations  .    it  was  a  betrayal  of  the  deepest  caliber  ,   &  from  there  the  small  peace  that  still  was  at  the  core  of  their  little  family  was  forever  severed  ,   &  it  became  obvious  to  jules  that  those  few  years  were  lucky  .

     she  was  thirteen  when  famed  actress  lily  taylor  (  aka  jennifer  connely  lmao  )  moved  into  her  family  home  ,   bringing  her  adopted  eleven - year - old  twins  with  her  .    in  a  sense  of  loyalty  to  her  mother  &  her  own  hurt  over  the  despair  that  her  father  caused  their  original  trio  ,   jules  was  heartily  &  positively  prepared  to  hate  the  new  additions  to  her  family  with  a  vindictive  fidelity  .    her  plan  was  promptly  overturned  ,   however  ,   when  she  spent  day  upon  day  with  her  new  fam  &  steadily  allowed  them  into  her  heart  .    this  ,   of  course  ,   was  paired  with  doubtless  guilt  ,   spurred  on  by  her  own  mind  whenever  she  flew  to  nyc  to  see  her  mother  ,   but  soon  enough  this  was  caught  by  each  of  her  parents  ,   &  susie  was  insistent  in  her  assurance  that  whatever  frigidness  she  still  held  for  elio  &  his  new  beau   (  which  julianna  didn’t  bother  to  correct  with  wife  )   ,   it  in  no  way  extends  nor  should  be  mimicked  by  her  .    elio  ,   in  turn  ,   was  quick  to  promise  to  jules  that  his  love  for  her  mother  flamed  in  his  heart  to  this  day  ,   but  each  of  them  are  happier  living  their  lives  in  the  lifestyles  they’ve  chosen  ,   with  the  people  they’ve  chosen  .    

      there  really  wasn’t  anything  to  do  but  swallow  their  words  ,   &  live  by  the  sentiments  they  expressed  .   jules  was  both  a  mama’s  &  daddy’s  girl  in  one  ,   so  to  take  their  words  as  fact  was  an  ignorance  she  allowed  herself  ,   even  when  the  hurt  look  on  her  mother’s  faced  inevitably  shone  through  in  hidden  moments  .

     but  when  jules  turned  seventeen  ,   susie  fell  in  love  with  a  musician  /  designer  named  tommy  lever  she  met  while  interviewing  his  collection  for  vogue  ,  &  the  two  fell  deep  ,  far  enough  to  sway  susie  into  moving  to  brazil  during  the  spring  season  ,  away  from  her  beloved  manhattan  loft  ,  to  be  with  him  in  his  home  (  the  link  is  crucial  to  his  characterization  lmao  ,  as  lenny  kravitz  is  essentially  tommy  lever  )  .   when  she  can  ,  jules  visits  as  often  as  she’s  allowed  (  always  )  &  has  gained  a  room  herself  .

      after  that  ,   however  ,   the  cycle  between  her  various  homes  continued  ,   well  into  her  slipping  teendom  ,   &  when  the  prospect  of  college  crunched  down  on  her  ,   the choice  seemed  inevitable  .   nyu  gained  a  classics  &  theater  major  for  its  class  of  2019  (  she  skipped  the  third  grade  ,  a  fact  she  didn’t  stop  bragging  about  at  that  age  )  ,   but  in  her  senior  year  of  university  ,   the  walls  came  crashing  down  .

 what  sin  are  they  categorized  under  ?  why ?

jules  belongs  to  the  sin  of  #pride  through  &  through  .   after  all  ,   if  there  was  one  damning  trait  to  send  her  straight  into  the  pits  of  burning  infernos  ,  her  prideful  sense  of  self  would  be  it  .   that’s  not  to  say  she’s  arrogant  (  nor  am  i  saying  she  isn’t  )  ,  but  it’s  more  that  she  can’t  take  being  undermined  or  allow  the  supposed  undermining  to  go  unpunished  .   she  has  a  great  deal  of  #pride  in  her  own  self  worth  &  capabilities  ,  though  she’s  usually  loathe  to  make  it  known  in  plain  terms  ,  &  if  she  feels  attacked  in  that  manner  ,  she’ll  completely  close  up  .   this  often  ,  as  you’ll  surely  be  able  to  tell  ,   beckons  problematic  shit  .

 what  got  them  sent  to  the  academy  ?

      during  jules’  senior  year  at  nyu  ,  she  was  contacted  by  her  agent  (  shared  with  her  father  )  &  offered  an  audition  for  a  leading  role  in  a  major  hollywood  studio  film  .   throughout  the  years  ,  she  dabbled  in  theater  &  attracted  a  starring  role  or  two  along  the  way  ,  especially  in  school  productions  ,   but  the  plan  for  success  was  always  envisioned  after  college  .   when  she  got  the  call  ,  however  ,  she  handled  it  with  a  happy - go - lucky  fuck  it  sort  of  approach  ,  &  a  week  later  ,  when  she  received  the  good - bearing  call  ,  there  was  no  backing  out  ,  or  so  she  thought  .   tentatively  dropping  out  of  the  semester  in  which  she  would  graduate  ,  jules  modeled  the  next  few  months  of  her  life  around  the  film  ,  happily  doing  so  .   

      yet  ,  the  first  week  into  rehearsals  brought  down  a  cloud  so  dark  she  thought  she’d  choke  under  it  .   she  overheard  a  few  producers  on  their  lunch  break  ,  talking  about  this - & - that - esque  bullshit  ,  but  just  as  she  was  passing  ,  one  of  them  made  a  comment  about  the  peralta  girl  ,  &  how  hollywood  legacies  are  the  roaches  of  the  industry  .   how  directors  from  the  middle  ages  should  just  stick  to  ruining  things  behind  the  camera  ,  not  forcing  a  disaster  in  front  of  it  .   

      that  day  ,  jules  walked  out  of  set  &  never  took  a  step  back  in  .   effectively  ruining  her  future  career  in  the  process  ,  she  ghosted  all  contact  from  the  production  &  even  went  as  far  to  jet  off  to  brazil  to  regenerate  with  her  mom  as  an  escape  .   she  couldn’t  even  pick  up  where  she  left  off  during  the  semester  ,  &  simply  had  to  sit  back  &  witness  her  classmates  of  four  years  graduate  without  her  .   her  parents  were  furious  ,  but  the  only  thing  she  gave  in  return  was  a  steely  silence  ,  refusing  even  turn  a  glare  to  her  father  .   now  ,  she’s  been  shoved  into  the  hands  of  the  academy  ,  biding  the  days  until  she  could  return  to  nyu  in  the  fall  .  

what  do  you  think  they’ll  struggle  with  the  most  at  the  academy ?

tbh  ,  the  biggest  issue  for  jules  is  the  resentment  curling  at  her  core  .   at  her  father  ,  the  film  ,  the  academy  ,  herself  .   right  now  she’s  just  in  a  foul  mood  &  sick  at  being  forced  into  glitterati  rehab  ,  but  her  #pride  won’t  allow  her  to  fail  ,  even  if  she  wishes  to  do  it  just  to  spite  everyone  .   she  is  a  people  person  ,  however  ,  &  will almost  definitely  warm  up  ,  even  if  it’s  just  for  appearances  sake  .

extra  details  :  links  you’d  like  to  incorporate  ,  wanted  connections  ,  literally anything  else  you  want  to  include  ,  etc  .

wanted  connections  will  be  coming  soon  !   for  now  ,  please  enjoy  this  authentic  video  of  jules  chillin  in  her  fav  corner  of  the  world  ,  aka  italia  ,  taken  by  her  bff  eli  😔✌️

[swanqueeneverafter]

What Dreams May Come, Pt.23

The Charmings' Dreamscape. The Dark Palace. Past. (The Evil Queen returns home, clearly agitated.) Evil Queen: ♪ Mirror, mirror, on the wall ♪ ♪ I'm tortured by some spell ♪ (Shrugging off her long coat:) ♪ Mirror, mirror, on the wall ♪ ♪ Please save me from this hell ♪ Magic Mirror: ♪ Snow and Charming made a wish ♪ ♪ Now everything has changed ♪ Evil Queen: (Walks over to him:) ♪ Oh, great, you're singing, too ♪ ♪ This whole thing is deranged ♪ Magic Mirror: ♪ A spell as strong as this ♪ ♪ Won't be easy to defeat ♪ ♪ Your curse might not succeed ♪ ♪ With your kingdom singing songs so sweet ♪ (Through another mirror, the Evil Queen sees the dwarves headed to work, singing merrily.) Grumpy: ♪ It's time to work, let's go ♪ ♪ Not a thing to make me bristle ♪ ♪ With a hi hi hi and a ho ho ho ♪ ♪ I'll mine that mine and whistle ♪ (In yet another mirror, Geppetto sings happily beside Pinocchio.) Geppetto: ♪ He's real and not a toy ♪ ♪ There's a lifetime to enjoy ♪ ♪ The happy things, he's got no strings ♪ ♪ 'Cause he's-a my real boy ♪ (Jiminy Cricket chirps tunefully before the Queen closes the closet door on them. Striding over to her vanity, Regina sees Granny singing through her hand mirror.) Granny: ♪ La, la, Princess on her way ♪ ♪ La, la, though I'm old and gray ♪ ♪ Happy times are here to stay ♪ (Backing away, the Evil Queen turns to see the Charmings singing their song.) Charmings: ♪ Seems we found a lucky break ♪ ♪ Now let our song show the powerful magic ♪ ♪ We can make! ♪ Evil Queen: ♪ Enough! ♪ ♪ So, the Charming's think their love is strong enough to defeat me. ♪ (Chuckles:) ♪ Well, there's one thing they don't know. ♪ ♪ Mirror, mirror, could not be clearer ♪ ♪ That love is a waste of time ♪ ♪ I'm here to tell you, with love's magic spell ♪ ♪ You cannot match the power of mine ♪ ♪ Once I loved, and once I learned ♪ ♪ Love is weakness, love will leave you burned ♪ (Appearing in the dwarf mines, the Evil Queen shows them all her moves:) ♪ Down with love, down with hope ♪ ♪ Don't need blind faith to cope ♪ ♪ Or inspiring songs in my heart ♪ ♪ Got the magic I need ♪ ♪ For my darkest of deeds ♪ ♪ Love at times can entrance ♪ ♪ But love doesn't stand a chance ♪ ♪ Love doesn't stand a chance ♪ (Bursting through Geppetto’s front door:) ♪ Mirror, mirror, the time draws nearer ♪ ♪ For me to enact my curse ♪ ♪ Those happy feelings that send them reeling ♪ ♪ Will soon become the reverse ♪ (Slithering into view from behind Granny’s rocking chair:) ♪ Down with love, down with hope ♪ ♪ Don't need blind faith to cope ♪ ♪ Or inspiring songs in my heart ♪ ♪ Got the magic I need ♪ ♪ For my darkest of deeds ♪ ♪ Love, at times, can entrance ♪ ♪ But love doesn't stand a chance ♪ ♪ Love doesn't stand a chance ♪

(Back in the Dark Palace:) ♪ Stole my shot at one true love ♪ ♪ That’s what she did to me ♪ ♪ Now that little bitch will wish ♪ ♪ She never, ever knew me ♪ ♪ Down with love, down with dreams ♪ ♪ Down with goodness' schemes ♪ ♪ Gonna rip the song right from their hearts ♪ ♪ Got the magic I need ♪ ♪ For my darkest of deeds ♪ ♪ Watch my curse kill romance ♪ ♪ Oh, love doesn't stand a chance ♪ ♪ No, no, love doesn't stand a chance ♪ (The Evil Queen turns, using her magic to shatter the mirror.) Henry's Dreamscape. (Richard goes to visit the fortune teller.) Richard: “Hello, great one.” Edwin: (Standing:) “I am Edwin The Magnificent.” Richard: “Hello, Edwin The Magnificent. I...” Edwin: “I know exactly who you are. You are Richard, the king from the north.” Richard: “That was actually really impressive. I'm sure you know we're on a quest to return me to my kingdom and to return my friend Henry to his lady love, who may or may not be waiting for him. It's sort of a long-distance thing.” Edwin: “Ugh, those things rarely work out. Sit down.” Richard: (As they both take a seat:) “Thank you, sir.” Edwin: “Let me tell your fortune. Pick a number.” Richard: “Uh, seven.” Edwin: (Stands quickly:) “Seven! (Two clouds of smoke appear behind him before he retakes his seat. Edwin pulls out a Paper Fortune Teller:) One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Choose a color.” Richard: “Blue.” Edwin: “B-l-u-e. (Suddenly the crystal ball plays a flute ringtone:) Oh, uh, uh, forgive me. Uh, I'm sorry. (Answering it:) Yes? Yes? What is it?” Edwin’s Wife: “Edwin, you need to pick up the children.” Edwin: “I'm working. Can't you pick them up from school?” Edwin’s Wife: “Like I have the time?” Edwin: “Yes, yes. I know what you do is a job, too. Of course. See you tonight. Y-yes, before dinner.” Edwin’s Wife: “Love you, honey.” Edwin: “Love you, too. (Ends the call:) I'm so sorry. Sometimes I wish I'd never got a thing for communicating with a person in another realm no matter how far away.” Richard: “Er, do you think I could borrow that?” Edwin: “Certainly.” Kingdom Of Valencia. (Via the crystal ball, Richard appears in one of the hallway mirrors.) Richard: “Hello? Is anyone there?” (As luck would have it, the Chef passes down the hallway at the opportune moment.) Chef: “Sire, it's me, the Chef.” Richard: “Oh, thank God. Hello, little man who used to bring me my food. Is Gareth there? I would very much like to speak with him. (To Edwin:) Gareth's my best pal. I'm sure he's worried sick about me.” Chef: “Um...Sir, I... I have some bad news.” Richard: “Hmm?” Chef: “He took your throne. He went and hooked up with Madelena... The ultimate act of betrayal. He's now the king. He makes you look like an ass... ass... ass... Ass... ass... ass... ass... Ass... ass... Ass...” Edwin: “Sometimes it does that. Hold it up. You'll get a better signal.” (Richard does so and the Chef continues.) Chef: “...Astronomical leader by comparison.” Richard: “Gareth...Betrayed me?” Chef: “Big time.” Richard: (Slumping back in his chair:) “I cannot believe Gareth would do this. Did he ever even care? (A snorting sound can be heard outside the tent. Lifting the flap, Richard sees the Unicorn stood waiting for him:) I'm going for a walk.”

The Land Without Magic. New York City. Present. (Having packed a couple of overnight bags, Regina and Emma find themselves strolling through Central Park.) Regina: "I can't believe we're here." Emma: "I always promised I'd show you New York properly some day." Regina: (Chuckles:) "Yeah, but I can't help feeling-" Emma: "Hey, after the last few days we've both been through, we needed to get away." Regina: "But even so..." Emma: "Look, we're on maternity leave. We're supposed to have this time to ourselves. Let the others sort out whatever crisis comes up next. Zelena knows how to deal with the 'dream echoes' should any more of them show up, and Snow and Lily can handle everything else." Regina: (Considers:) "It's not like Henry's been around much lately to notice if we're home or not." Emma: "Exactly. So, (Linking her arm with Regina's as they walk:) you and I are gonna spend a nice, long weekend in New York, seeing the city as it's meant to be seen." Regina: (Smiles:) "And you're gonna be my guide and show me the sights?" Emma: "Well, actually, for the year Henry and I lived here, I didn't really get to see much. Between work and taking Henry to school and grocery shopping, the year sorta flew by." Regina: "Mm, so we'll be seeing what New York has to offer for the first time, together?" Emma: "Yep, and with you on my arm, we'll be able to do it in style, too." Regina: (Chuckles:) "Okay well, I wouldn't even know where to begin. Why don't you choose our first stop?" Emma: "All right. Assuming we don't want to spend the weekend sleeping in the bug, we'll need a place to stay. There are some really nice hotels overlooking the park, but they're crazy pricey." Regina: "Oh, don't you worry your pretty head about that. Nothing's too good for my wife." Emma: (Laughing:) "I knew marrying the mayor would pay off."

Henry's Dreamscape. Kingdom of Valencia. (Sid waits patiently as Madelena and Gareth enter the throne room.) Queen Madelena: “So, Brett, what's on the schedule for today?” Sid: “Uh, my name is Sid, Your... Highness. (As the King and Queen take their seats:) You have a 9am review of the troops followed by a noon burning of poets, then leeches and bleeding at 5pm.” Queen Madelena: “Ugh, 5pm leeches and bleeding? Why do we always schedule it so late?” Gareth: “Well, why don't we just skip it? I mean, I know it's within the 24-hour cancellation period, but who cares?” Queen Madelena: “Wicked. Perhaps you are the guy ruthless enough to help me invade all the remaining kingdoms. (Something catches her eye:) I'm sorry. What... (Stands, then walks over to take a closer look at the painting above the fireplace:) What is that above the fireplace?” Gareth: “Oh, that is ‘Dogs Jousting.’ I thought now I'm the official king, I'd put some of me own personal touches around the throne room.” Queen Madelena: “It's nice.” Gareth: “Yeah, it's great, isn't it?” Queen Madelena: (Walking away:) “Hmm. (Discreetly to Sid:) Throw it in the moat, Brett.” A Short Time Later. (Gareth and Sid return to the castle, Sid wheeling in a cart full of more ‘personal touches’ from the new King.) Gareth: “I think the picture of me mum's gonna look great in the throne room, don't you?” Sid: (Breathlessly:) “Yeah.” (Something catches Gareth’s eye. It is ‘Dogs Jousting’ now residing in the moat.) Gareth: “Who threw my painting in the toilet?” Throne Room. (Gareth walks with purpose into the throne room.) Queen Madalena: “What's all this?” Gareth: “Move your feet, love.” (Gareth yanks the rug out from under Madelena’s feet, literally.) Queen Madelena: “That's irreplaceable! (Running after Gareth:) I killed the family of weavers who made it!” Gareth: (Walking to a window:) “Let's see what it looks like in the moat.” Queen Madelena: “Don't!” Gareth: (Water splashes:) “Ah. A little wet, but I like it.” Queen Madelena: “How dare you.” Gareth: “You made me king. So I can have my stuff in the throne room, and you can't toss it.” Queen Madelena: (Picking up a reindeer skull from Gareth’s cart:) “Oh, really?” (Tosses it out of the window.) Gareth: “Fine. It's on.” (Peasants from outside the castle watch as several more items are tossed into the moat from above.) Queen Madelena: “My vase!” Gareth: “That's how you want to play?” Queen Madelena: “Wait! That's expensive!” Gareth: “Not the helmet!” Queen Madelena: “That's my favorite.” Gareth: “Stop it!” Queen Madelena: (While pulling on Sid’s arm:) “Stop resisting. This isn't about you.” Sid: “Gareth!” Gareth: “You're not throwing out my assistant.” (Briefly, there is a tug of war over Sid.) Sid: “Hold on! Killing me won't solve anything. You are just two people with very strong opinions. If this is gonna work, you need to find some common ground. Just try. Please?” Gareth: “Fine.” Queen Madelena: “Fine.” Sid: (As they let him go:) “Ohh!” Gareth: ♪ I like living plainly ♪ ♪ Chains and leather, mainly ♪ Queen Madelena: ♪ I prefer a lavish suite ♪ Sid: “Go on.” Throne Room. Queen Madelena: ♪ I like eating lightly ♪ ♪ Vegan dinners nightly ♪ Gareth: ♪ I like meat with extra meat ♪ Sid: “You're not even trying.” Queen Madelena: ♪ I'm deluxe to my silken undies ♪ Gareth: ♪ It's commando for me ♪ Sid: “Ew.” Queen Madelena: ♪ My way's clearly better ♪ Gareth: ♪ Boringer and deader ♪ Gareth & Madelena: ♪ Let's agree to disagree ♪ Sid: “Right. Not exactly what I had in mind, but not a bad start.” Courtyard. Queen Madelena: ♪ I like drinking Vino, preferably Pinot ♪ Gareth: ♪ I prefer a keg of beer ♪ Queen Madelena: ♪ I like getting randy with whoever's handy ♪ Gareth: ♪ I prefer a keg of beer ♪ Queen Madelena: ♪ Love massages, long walks, and sunsets ♪ Gareth: ♪ Beer, beer-beer, beer-beer, beer ♪ Sid: “Guys. The rhyme scheme.” Climbing The Gallows. Queen Madelena: ♪ Frankly, you disgust me ♪ Gareth: ♪ You're no picnic, trust me ♪ Gareth & Madelena: ♪ Let's agree to disagree ♪ Sid: “Maybe you're not getting the concept.” Gareth & Madelena: ♪ Just one of us can lead ♪ Queen Madelena: ♪ And that means me ♪ Gareth: “Hell, no.” Queen Madelena: “You want a piece of this?” Gareth: “All right, then.” Together: “Fine. Let's go!” (Madelena stamps on his foot then shoves Gareth out of her way.) Queen Madelena: ♪ We will never get on together ♪ Gareth: (Following her down the steps:) ♪ Ditto, obviously ♪ Sid: “Right there. Did you hear that? I think we finally...” Gareth: (Re-entering the castle:) ♪ God, is he annoying ♪ Queen Madelena: ♪ Positively cloying ♪ Sid: “Guys?” Queen Madelena: ♪ Why is he still talking? ♪ Gareth: “Can it with the squawking!” Sid: “But...” Gareth: ♪ You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'? ♪ Queen Madelena: ♪ We're definitely syncing ♪ Sid: “You know what? I think it's time to seek outside help.”

(Picking Sid up between them, they walk him over to the window.) Gareth & Madelena: ♪ Let's agree to ♪ Sid: “No, no, no, wait, wait, wait, wait.” Gareth & Madelena: ♪ Disagree-e-e-e-e-e-e ♪ Sid: “No, no, no! Please! Please stop! No, no! No! Not the window! Not the window! Please no! Not the window! Aah!” (Water splashes as Sid is dumped outside.) Queen Madelena: “Wow. That was so much fun.” Gareth: “Want to go and get some more? Throw them out, as well?” Queen Madelena: “Hells yeah.” The Land Without Magic. New York. (Standing at another window, this time overlooking Central Park, Emma waits while Regina tips the bellhop. Closing the door behind him, Regina walks over to join her wife.) Emma: "Pretty great, huh?" Regina: (Smiling:) "Breathtaking." Emma: "Yeah, I don't think you'll find a better view anywhere." Regina: "I'm certain of it." (Cupping Emma's face, Regina kisses her tenderly.) Emma: (Grins:) "I was talking about the view outside." Regina: "I wasn't. (Removing her coat:) Don't get me wrong, the view is nice, but I only have eyes for you." Emma: (Chuckles:) "Wow. Very smooth." Regina: "Oh, I'll be the judge of that." Emma: (Laughs:) "What has got into you? (Preemptively placing a finger on Regina's lips:) Don't answer that." (They kiss once again.) Regina: "Mm. Thank you for bringing me here. I think this is exactly what we need." Emma: "I hope so." (Placing her bag on the counter, Regina inadvertently pushes a button on a remote control. They stand together watching as the curtains surrounding the room open, slowly revealing a panoramic view of the city. The afternoon sunlight hitting the bed perfectly, making it appear to glow.) Emma: (Smiling:) "Well I'm game if you are." Regina: "I thought you’d never ask." A Few Moments Later... (Reclining carefully onto the bed, Emma moans while kissing her gloriously pregnant wife, delighting in the soft weight pressing against her own flat stomach. With hands running through each others hair, they continue their kiss. Regina allows herself to be gently rolled onto her back as their naked bodies are bathed in the glow of the setting sun.)

Henry's Dreamscape. Enchanted Forest. (Richard sits with his new boots waiting for Henry to return, when he feels a nuzzling at his shoulder.) Richard: "Aw, that's nice. (Turns to see the Unicorn beside him, stands:) Oh, that is it. I've had it with you! I've had it with being embarrassed and with betrayal and with heartache! I am a king, for God's sake. I am a king! (Richard pulls a sword from a nearby tree stump and the Unicorn neighs:) Now, back off, or I swear I will make you into a none-icorn.” (The Unicorn walks away and Richard throws down the sword, despondent. Turning, he walks into somebody.) Ella: “Oh, excuse me. (Realising:) King Richard.” Richard: “Princess Ella. What are you doing here?” Ella: “Searching for Henry. I have been since Gareth set me and my people free.” Richard: “Gareth. Don’t mention that traitor’s name. He took my title, my queen, everything.” (Against her better judgement, Ella takes pity on Richard, sitting next to him.) Ella: “Look, Richard, I'm sorry about Gareth.” Richard: “What do you care?” Ella: “I do know a thing or two about betrayal, and it sucks.” Richard: (Sighs:) “I just don't know what I'm gonna do without Gareth.” Ella: “I think you'll just figure it out. Now, where’s Henry?” Richard: “Oh, he left on some great adventure with the pirate and told me to wait here for him.” Ella: “Adventure? You mean he was going to rescue me?” Richard: “Nooo. I mean, he was, but then the pirate spoke of actual treasure and that turned Henry’s head enough to forget about you entirely.” Ella: “Is that right?” Richard: “Mm. At least that’s the impression I got.” Ella: (Dejected:) “I see.” Richard: “Hey, I know! (Picks up the sword and stands:) Rather than wait around here for Henners, why don’t you come back with me to my kingdom, where I can rally my people and then we can kick Madelena and Gareth out of your Kingdom eh?” Ella: “Gareth really hurt you, didn’t he? (Curiously:) Where'd you get the sword?” Richard: “Oh. Uh, someone left it in the stump. Finders keepers, right? So what do you say, join me?” Ella: (Sighs:) “Yeah, I suppose so. (They walk together casually:) Gonna name it? The sword I mean.” Richard: “Oh, that's a good idea. What about ‘Dawn Breaker?’ That sounds pretty cool. Or, um, ‘Mr. Stabby’. Now, that's more descriptive than dawn breaker. I don't know. It's really a tough call.” Ella: “It's really not.” (As they walk away, we can see the inscription written on the tree stump: ‘The Hero Sword: To Be Drawn By The One True King.’)