#a bunch of my cousins have little kids now and they are NOT equal to me.

[livvyofthelake]

did i tell you that i accidentally volunteered to organize an easter egg hunt for my little cousins. i was for real just sitting there and next thing i knew it was my job to help two children (there’s also a baby but he’s so little he can’t even walk so that’s literally not my job) decorate eggs, and then i have to hide them. and then worse than that, remember where i hid them. and then supervise as they look. i know that’s not a lot but when i originally found out there were gonna be kids coming to easter this year the first thing i thought was awesome now i don’t have to do anything (the past theee years i have been the youngest person at easter and the egg hunt my aunt insists upon has been undergone by me and my dad. not kidding). anyway. so the doing nothing thing isn’t gonna happen

[palettepainter]

Food for thought 35

Riley is definitely the type of kid who, growing up, would do an impressive amount of chores for pocket money and then spend all of it in one go on a bunch of sugary stuff.

I want to make this into a short story but one time, when Riley went out and brought bags full of sweets after school, she made herself a sugary sundae concoction of all the stuff she'd brought and some thinks already at home (included but not limited to: ice cream, custard, sprinkles, chocolate mousse, fruit loops cereal and whip cream). Hoshi and his sister were round at the time and he stared in abject horror at her ''creation'', I don't have a scene in mind but here's how I imagined the scenario goes:

Riley: Hm, I see you're so impressed you are speechless~

Hoshi:...Speechless yes, but impressed is not the word I'd use

Riley: (pouts) Rude. I was planning to share this with you but I don't think I will now. I think I'll just have it all to myself

Hoshi: You can NOT eat that Riley! Not all at once!

Riley: (smirks) Sounds like a dare

Hoshi: (worried) I PROMISE I am NOT daring you to eat this! You're absolutely going to make yourself sick!

Riley: (fishing for a spoon from the drawer) The words of a coward my dear beloved cousin~ As my dad always says: (mocks her best Powerloader impression) A creator must take great risks for the betterment of science

Hoshi: Uncle Higari has NEVER said that!

Riley: Well he WILL start saying it after today (offers Hoshi several comforting pats to his shoulder) Don't you worry your little ninety degree composed head about a thing Hoshi, your cousin Riley knows what she's doing!~

Hoshi: (frowning) I'm two months older then you...(shrugs) But fine, it's your stomach that'll suffer

Riley: Relaaax~ I made sure to balance out the levels of sugar with equal amounts of healthy stuff. I cut up some banana and threw that in, problem solved!

Hoshi: But...fruits have natural sug-...(sighs) Nevermind

No less then thirty minutes later when Hoshi and his little sister are watching TV does Hoshi hear Riley groaning from her bedroom, so with a roll of his eyes he goes to investigate and finds Riley curled up on the floor clutching her stomach. Her miss-matched pudding creation isn't even half finished and sits abandoned on her desk. At the time of this all happening Cementoss, Higari and Powerloader are attending an afterschool UA meeting, so Hoshi leaves to go and call them for help (I also like to think that while Hoshi does that his little sister helps herself to Riley's leftover pudding creation, totally ignoring Riley in the process), and then the following phone call goes something like this

Ecto: (hums when he feels his phone vibrating, temporarily stepping outside the meeting to take the call) Hello?

Hoshi: Hi Uncle

Ecto: Oh, Hoshi. I didn't expect you to call (casts a look back to the meeting door) I'm in a meeting at the moment, is everything alright??

Hoshi: Uhm...not really

Ecto: (blinks)...You're going to need to be a bit more specific. What's not okay?

Hoshi: (nervously) Sooo just curious, but would eating an elaborate combination of uh...maybe several types of sweet things combined into one in one sitting count as a bit excessive?

Ecto:....(squints) Excessively excessive

Hoshi: (turns to look to Riley) In that case I think you or Uncle Higari need to come home..

Riley: (still clutching her stomach) UUUUGGGGGGHHHHH-

Ectoplasm left the meeting early and came home to one concerned teenager, one teenager curled on the floor groaning, and a toddler grabbing fistfuls of melted ice cream from a bowl. After Hoshi and his sister went back home Ectoplasm probably gave Riley a talking to, but he ends up not being able to stay mad

Riley: (now standing, but still clutching her stomach) Erugh... Everything hurts

Ecto: (arms crossed) You're old enough to know the consequences of your actions, Hoshi tried to warn you. Now you're going to have to deal with an upset stomach until you're better

Riley: Does this mean you won't rub my head till I feel better?..

Ecto: (scowling)....

Higari came home shortly after to find Ectoplasm on the sofa with a book, Riley under a blanket besides him with her head resting on his leg as he rubbed her forehead (this entire situation would repeat itself no less then a month later when Riley made her next sugary concoction-)

[x-ceirios-x]

(Part 2) City of Lost Souls, Chapter 6: No Weapon In This World

please see the masterlist for notes about this series/collection of works

The sharp banging noise woke Jordan out of a sound sleep. He bolted upright instantly and rolled out of bed to land in a crouch on the floor. Years of training with the Praetor had left him with fast reflexes and a permanent habit of sleeping lightly. A quick sight-scent scan told him the room was empty—just moonlight pooling on the floor at his feet. 

The banging came again, and this time he recognized it. It was the sound of someone pounding on the front door. He usually slept in just his boxer shorts; yanking on jeans and a T-shirt, he kicked the door of his room open and strode out into the hallway. If this was a bunch of drunk college kids amusing themselves by knocking on all the doors in the building, they were about to get a faceful of angry werewolf. 

He reached the door—and paused. The image came to him again, as it had in the hours it had taken him to fall asleep, of Maia running away from him in the navy yard. The look on her face when she pulled away from him. He’d pushed her too far, he knew, ashed for too much, too fast. Blown it completely, probably. Unless—maybe she’d reconsidered. There had been a time when their relationship had been all passionate fights and equally passionate make-up sessions. 

His heart pounding, he threw the door open. And blinked. On the doorstep stood Rowan Ashfair, a rat nest of unkempt, jet-black curls on top of their head, barely covering the several piercings in their ears. He didn’t know if shadowhunters were even allowed to have piercings like that, but knowing what little he did about them, it was unlike them to care. They wore a black sweater with a few holes in the seams and cargo pants that looked a little better than the sweater, at least. 

“Rowan?” He couldn’t hide the surprise in his voice, or, he suspected, the disappointment. 

“Charmed,” they said sarcastically and yawned into their hand. On closer inspection, they looked tired, with bags darkening under their eyes. “I wasn’t looking for you, either.” In a flash, they pushed past him, into the apartment. “I was looking for Simon. He around?”

Jordan squinted at them. “It’s two in the morning.”

They shrugged. “He’s a vampire.”

“I’m not.”

“Oh, shit,” they said, as if the time had just dawned on them. “Did I wake you up?”

“Little bit, yeah.”

“Sorry.” They very obviously didn’t mean it, but he decided better than to argue. They moved past him, toward Simon’s bedroom, and ducked their head inside. “He’s not here.” They slammed the door behind them and leaned against the wall, looking at Jordan. “Dude, will you button your jeans? Dancing penguins is cute and all but not what I want to see right now.”

He shot them a confused, slightly embarrassed look, and shuffled into the kitchen, fixing his pants as he walked. “Simon’s probably at Clary’s,” he said, going through the cabinets for a cup for himself. If he was up, he might as well get some water. “He’s been sleeping there a lot lately.”

They bit their lip and began to fidget with the ring on their finger. “Right. Of course.”

Jordan was beginning to get that feeling he got sometimes, that he was saying something unfortunate, without knowing exactly what that thing was. “Is there a reason you came over here? I mean, did something happen? Is something wrong?”

They kicked themself off the wall and walked towards him. “You mean other than the fact that my brother’s been kidnapped by the guy that killed my cousin, my other brother, tried to kill me and Isabelle, and Jace is totally getting brainwashed by that freak right now, and my dad just left, and I’m pretty sure the only stable parents in my life are getting divorced and I’m not convinced there isn’t something going on between my dad and Maryse?” They stood across the counter from him, staring him down, a fire behind their eyes that made him a little uneasy. And like a switch, their tone completely changed, and they forced a smile forward. “No, everything’s perfectly fine. Why?”

He grimaced, trying to force his expression into a smile, and failed miserably. “You sound like you need a drink,” he said. “We’ve got…shitty tequila?”

“You got coffee? I don’t drink anymore” they asked. “I’ve only had, y’know, three Monsters and some coffee all after eight PM.”

“That shit’ll kill you, you know.”

They looked at him through their eyelashes, as if to say so what? “It can join the list. The day I give up caffeine is the day I go into a coma.” 

He didn’t argue, only started a pot of coffee. It might be nasty by morning, but he could always reheat it if he didn’t want to throw it out. When he turned back towards them, he noticed they’d taken a seat in one of the stools that lined the kitchen counter. They continued to fidget with the ring, staring at it like it had done something to piss them off. 

He got that weird feeling in the back of his head again, but decided not to listen to it, anyway. He was good at that lately. “Anymore?” he asked, taking a sip of his water. “Mind if I ask?”

They shrugged. “The drinking age in Idris is fifteen, not that anyone pays attention. It’s not a big deal. I just found out my dad’s got an issue with that stuff and I’d prefer not to kickstart it for myself.”

Jordan thought for a moment, then nodded. That made sense, but it probably wasn’t wise to ask any further. “Is there a message you want me to give Simon, or anything I can say, or—”

“Not really,” they said with a sigh. “Finally leave Magnus’s to come see him and he’s at Clary’s. Figures.”

“Didn’t you tell him he ought to go over there in the first place?” 

“Yeah,” they said, glancing at him. “I did.”

“So,” Jordan said, in what he thought was a reasonable tone. “Tell him to stop.”

“It’s not that simple.” They sounded exhausted. The coffee finished, not that he was making a lot, and he poured it in a mug and slid it across the counter. They nodded in thanks and took a sip of it. “I owe Clary, y’know?”

Jordan leaned on the counter. He felt a little like a bartender in a TV show, dispensing sage advice. “What do you owe her?”

“Life,” Rowan said. 

Jordan blinked. This was a little beyond his bartending and advice-offering skills. “She saved your life?”

“In a way,” they said. “She saved Jace, which…as much as I hate him, she could have asked for anything in the world and she was selfless enough to bring him back to the world.”

“That’s…” he thought for a moment. “Wow. That’s incredible.”

“It is,” they said, swirling the coffee in their hand, watching the small bubbles at the corner move around and around. They were entranced by it. “You ever meet somebody that, for some reason, is accidentally the best part of your life? Like someone who is so effortlessly good and kind that you feel like you don’t really deserve to be in their presence, but they love you anyway?”

Jordan nodded solemnly. He thought of Maia, how beautiful she looked when the sun hit her just right, how she laughed when they took trips to the park or beach years ago, how she felt when she’d been kissing him, and how his heart ached when he realized he’d messed everything up. “Yeah. I know exactly what you mean.”

It was quiet for a beat. “I never straight-up admitted this to anyone, but I really liked her for a while,” they said. “I think Alec knew. He never said anything about it, but I guess he’s not as fine with it as he lets me think.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “What, you liking girls? That’s a little hypocritical.”

“Bit of both. That’s the issue.” They sighed and set the coffee down. “There’s mundane words for it somewhere. I don’t really care about how someone looks, it's more about them as a person. After he and Magnus got together, I thought he might be a little more open minded but…no dice. Shadowhunters aren’t exactly the most tolerant group.”

“You can say that again.” Jordan scoffed and took a sip of his water.

“He’s coming around, I think. It’s just weird feeling to have something you think about non-stop that you can’t tell you best friend. But—“ they added quickly— “don’t mention it to Simon, please, I don’t want to make anything weird.”

“Secret’s safe with me,” he said, offering an encouraging smile. He didn’t think something like that would be a big deal to Simon, but it wasn’t his decision to make. “So you’re into Clary and not Simon?” 

They groaned, falling forward on the counter, then proceeded to hit their head against it. In his quick-thinking nature, Jordan grabbed a folded dish towel from the drawer and, between hits, slid it under their head. They stopped and slowly picked their head up to look at him. “No! No, I’m not really into Clary anymore. I think she’s just a good friend. But why does everyone think I have something going on with Simon?” they asked incredulously. 

“You don’t?” Jordan asked, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “I’m messing with you. But really…what is going on there?”

They sighed and shoved the towel back at him. The mild irritation had dropped from their face, but instead they looked tired—and sad. Only one of which he actually knew how to fix. “I don’t know. One minute I think something might happen, the next he’s basically ignoring me. I feel like, even if there is something there, there’s just never time.”

Jordan hesitated to speak. He didn’t want to say anything wrong because he couldn’t confirm or deny if Simon felt something for them, and giving them false hope wouldn’t be fair. He didn’t talk about them much, but everything he did say was always positive. The last two weeks had been hell for everyone involved with the Institute, though, and the stress of this wasn’t helping. Any time they were around, Simon looked happy—happier than usual. “I hope you two figure it out,” he said softly. “For both your sakes.” 

“Me too,” they mumbled, taking a sip of their coffee. “I’m gonna spin the same question on you, though. What’s going on between you and Maia lately?” 

“Nothing.” The single word held volumes. “I’m not sure she’s ever going to stop hating me.”

“She might not. I heard what happened,” Rowan said. “She’s got good reason.”

“Thanks.”

“I don’t do false reassurances,” they said, and pushed the now-empty mug away from them. They started to stand. “I’ll get out of your hair, then. Get home, or back to Magnus’s. I’ll decide on the way.”

Jordan frowned. He didn’t want them to have to walk home alone, especially how things had been going lately. Shadowhunter training or not, it was more dangerous than usual, and Simon would probably kill him if he found out they’d come to see him and he let them leave. “It’s late. You’re welcome to crash on the couch, if you’d rather.”

“I’m all grown up, I promise I can walk home by myself.”

“Rowan,” he said in a gentle, but still warning voice. 

They stared at him for a moment, their eyes narrowed, and he couldn’t tell if they were testing him or plainly couldn’t see him. Maybe they needed glasses or something. “Fine. Twist my arm,” they said after a brief, tense pause. “I don’t feel like walking back to Magnus’s tonight, anyway.” 

He nodded and returned to the living room, pulling a throw blanket from the chair and a pillow for them. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing, but it worked perfectly fine for their purposes. He searched for the TV remote in case they wanted to watch something while they listened to half of their phone call. 

“Hey, Magnus. Sorry for waking you. I’m at Simon’s,” they said, their phone pinched between their shoulder and cheek. “Yes, I snuck out. No, I don’t know what to tell you about it. I got bored so I left to see if Simon was home and he’s not.” They paused for a moment and sighed. “No, he’s not. But I know how to make friends. Relax.” They paused again. “Alright, asshole. Say hi to Alec for me.” He leaned against the arm of the couch, watching them smile at the phone. “Yeah, yeah. Sending my love to the Chairman. Talk to you in the morning.” 

They exchanged their farewells and Rowan joined him over by the couch. “Thanks, again,” they said, graciously taking the remote from him. 

He looked at them curiously. “Can I ask something, actually?”

“Why I’m so buddy-buddy with Magnus lately?” They scoffed. “Long story, but he’s a family friend.”

“I was actually going to ask who ‘the Chairman’ is.”

He swore they blushed a little, but with the dim lighting in the living room and their hair covering them, he couldn’t tell for certain. They chuckled. “Magnus has a cat named Chairman Meow.”

Jordan’s eyes widened slightly. “Chairman Meow?” he asked.

“Big hairball of a thing,” they said, biting back a laugh. “Moodiest cat I’ve ever seen, though, and I hang out with Church, who is the cat at the Institute.”

“You know a lot of cats.”

“I feed the strays, too. Named them over the years, but I won’t tell you because most of my favorites I met when I was thirteen and their names are ridiculous. Not even Alec knows those.”

Jordan laughed, mostly at the seriousness in their voice. The first time they’d met, they were incredibly serious, no-nonsense, and looked like they were trying to just get through the day. And even moments ago, they looked exhausted, but they seemed to lighten up after a while. He saw, a bit, what Simon saw. Or, at least, what he was pretty sure Simon saw in them. They were good company when the boring, semi-arrogant Shadowhunter hat came off. “I won’t test you on it, then,” he said, smiling at them. “Sleep well, I’ll try to make breakfast in the morning or something.”

They opened their mouth to say something but paused, deciding against it. “That sounds…nice,” they said hesitantly. “Thanks.”

He gave them a little wave, and with that, left back to his room for the night. If they wanted to hang out until Simon got back or leave in the morning, either was fine with him. He had video games he could probably show them to get them bonus points with Simon, too. Maybe it would help, or maybe it would just show a poor, sheltered Shadowhunter something in modern technology. 

[frodo-with-glasses]

Discord Highlights: Theodoc "Trotter" Brandybuck

From a discussion on 4/28/23

Windmill to the Stars:

I've heard vague references to a letter Tolkien wrote to a fan (not included in the volume of the Letters) in which he told her that Merry named at least one son "Periadoc." I kind of like it, especially if the "Per" part is related to "Peregrin" or "Periannath"! What do y'all think? Does this go with the other headcanons we came up with about Merry's kids?

InvisibleWashboard:

I can see it! May steal it and replace one of the other son’s names I have in my one-shot about all his babies!

Me:

Merry and Perry 👀

InvisibleWashboard:

It’s maybe a little too cutesy with the rhyming but I kind of like it, not gonna lie.

Windmill to the Stars:

And Pippin's son Ferry

Me:

THE TRIFECTA IS COMPLETE

meg is me:

It's all -erry

Me:

Always has been

meg is me:

You know what must be done now

Me:

It is done

Windmill to the Stars:

Suddenly imagining the next generation in the Shire with Perry and Ferry and the Master of Buckland and the Thain (and idk if Frodo Gardner follows his dad in becoming the mayor of Hobbiton.)

Me:

Okay wait: Is Periadoc Merry’s first son, or is Theodoc?? This is very important to me

Kasey Gondor:

twins

InvisibleWashboard:

Theodoc is for sure the oldest, at least in my head.

Writing Valkyrie:

Theodoc born first by several minutes

Me:

I LOVE THIS TWINS HECK YEAH Poor Estella, her first pregnancy and it's twins LOL 🤣

Windmill to the Stars:

Technically she could have older daughters but yeah I think we said before his sons were first

InvisibleWashboard:

I've always imagined he had a set of twins, but it was the last two kids he had. Estella was like, "We've had a bunch of boys, let me try and give you your Eowyn. One more!" Then it ends up being twins, but they don't know. A boy is born first, and they're like, "Yay, another kid, but this is kind of a bummer because we REALLY wanted a girl." And then, BOOM. Surprise daughter! And Merry is just over the moon

Me:

ACK THAT'S SO CUTE

Windmill to the Stars:

How many sons total does Merry have now??

Me:

Yes X-D

Windmill to the Stars:

I mean he's not gonna beat Sam probably but still

Me:

He has yes amount of sons

Writing Valkyrie:

All of his sons are his.

Me:

This is true! Accurate statement!

InvisibleWashboard:

I have 6 sons, one daughter in my one-shot that I've written. A boatload of kids, but not a cruise ship like the Gamgee's.

Me:

cruise ship 🤣🤣

Writing Valkyrie:

He needs it. They'd sink a boat.

meg is me:

Which of Pippin or Merry's kids (her honorary cousins) do you headcanon Elanor is closest to?

[There was much discussion in response to this question, but I'm cutting most of it for the sake of time lol]

Windmill to the Stars:

Depending on how old Periadoc and Theodoc are they could be closer to Elanor

Theodoc seems like he should be a bit adventurous And Elanor as well, so maybe they bond over that

Elanor moving into the Tower Hills with her husband but they always welcome her favorite cousin Theodoc who brings them gifts from his adventures

Theodoc is borderline a Knight Errant

Theodoc rides horses and boats with equal ease, he has his own nickname in Bree

meg is me:

What is it

Windmill to the Stars:

. . . Good question

meg is me:

and can he ride barrels

InvisibleWashboard:

Yes, this is the important question.

Windmill to the Stars:

Of course he can!

meg is me:

Yisss

Writing Valkyrie:

He teaches little Bilbo how

Me:

Bilbo Jr. WOULD take up boating just to give his poor mother a heart attack

Windmill to the Stars:

Amendment: he has like 5 nicknames in Bree Theodoc becomes actual Trotter

Me:

Minus the wooden feet, I hope??

Windmill to the Stars:

Oooh yes, definitely! 😬

Me:

I mean…it wouldn’t be so bad if Theodoc was born disabled and still had an adventurous spirit. Kinda rad, actually.

Windmill to the Stars:

Ahhh that's true! New hc

[Bonus]

Windmill to the Stars:

I'm getting way carried away with this, Theodoc wasn't my idea

Me:

Theodoc is OUR idea Communism

Kasey Gondor:

Windmill to the Stars is @windmilltothestars, InvisibleWashboard is @invisiblewashboard, Writing Valkyrie is @writingvalkyrie, Kasey Gondor is @captaingondor, and meg is me does not have tumblr :-3

[takerfoxx]

Sonic 2!

You know, it's weird. The first movie and this one hit all of the expected kid movie cliches, down to a character randomly flossing. And that normally would annoy me, but the writers have clearly understood the assignment and really "get" Sonic, so the dumb jokes actually make me laugh, because I'm already won over by the characters making them.

Like seriously, we already love this take on Sonic and Robotnik, but Tails and Knuckles were equally delightful. Tails's hero worship of Sonic while battling his own insecurities made their relationship downright adorable, and this may be the best take on Knuckles I've seen...maybe ever? Like, he's still a dummy, but instead of the doofus jock he's been portrayed as lately, now they've taken him back to being someone who's been isolated his entire life, with nothing but his long gone tribe's values to keep him going, making him understandably naive and gullible, especially when they focus on how he also never got to just be a kid. So you have someone that is totally badass, very endearing, and actually funny when his comedic seriousness bounces off the more goofy characters.

Plus, Idris Elba is clearly having the time of his life.

Heck, even the human characters are very likeable. Like, I actually got kind of invested in the whole business with the cousin and her fiance. It worked for me.

And there's more game stuff mixing well with the new lore! We got buzz bombers, the Death Egg robot, chaos emeralds, Sonic's inability to swim (complete with air bubbles), GUN, and a bunch of other little references. I also like that they made the conflict between the owls and echidnas more nuanced than what we saw originally.

And that last scene before the credits? Just perfect, for so many reasons.

As for the sequel tease...eh, it's too be expected. Not my personal choice, but maybe I'll like this take on all that business.

So yeah, it made me happy.

[aelin-queen-of-terrasen]

AAAAHHHHHHHH YES DORIANNNN

I've loved him since day1 and I'll love him forever he's my sweet little baby and I didn't expect to like Manon and him together but I love that I'm wrong here bcs for some reason I love him with Manon

like I said there are sooooooooo many things I LOVED and I literally inhaled this book in a day and a half and I'm still going through everything that happened and just aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

and I loveddddd the bit where Rowan goes that he doesn't have anything to offer Aelin like land or money or his title and stuff like that but when his cousins come to this aid and he goes that his is what he is offering her his Whitethorn line or something like that and my heart just melted

and Gavriel-Aedion meet!??! my heart actually broke reading it I'm pretty sure that Gavriel didn't know that he had a son when he left Aedion's mother and now he just wants to talk to his son but AEDION??!! why?!! and I get both sides but stillll and finally when Maeve comes him back but he leaves a shield in place around Aedion and even Lysandra and again my heart just aaaaaahhhhhhhh

and Evangeline???? We've seen so less of her but I'll protect her at all costs!! Ahhhhhhh that scene what they leave her with Murtaugh and Lysandra and Eva have to say good-bye like thank god we didn't get this scene from Lysandra's pov (if I'm not wrong haha can't remember this bit) and OH MY GOD WHEN AEDION KISSED EVA'S HEAD AS A GOODBYE LIKE WHYYYYY!???!! I WAS NOT READY FOR THIS

and I've to say that out of all the side characters backstories and povs, I loved Elide and Lorcan the most and the tent scene and when he washes her clothes himself and when he comes back for her when Vernon shows up and that whole tearing up his shirt so she would have her supplies and him giving her that protective golden ring (I've forgotten the name) and the whole island thing and her offering him a home in Perranth (that's the name I guess?) and him finally accepting that he wants to come with her and their kiss like sarah would you just kill me already this couple is tearing my heart and healing it at the same time

andddddd omg when I was reading how Lorcan reacted to Elide's cycle I remembered that when Aelin got hers in the beginning and Chaol was there and when he found this out and actually RAN from her room and then Dorian comes and helps her ah man I just love him

ahh no I don't want to read ToD I simply can't read about Chaol anymore and ik he had his reasons but I just can't get over how he acted and treated Aelin in QoS

and I can't tell you how fun it is to talk to someone who knows what I'm talking about so thankssssss!!! maybe I just find that courage to talk to you non-anonymously soon hehe

It would be awesome if you could but if you can't, I love recieving your asks! I'll reply from bottom to top.

Dorian is so adorable; it's so rare for me to love a side character more than the main love interest but he's just, argh, perfect. Even in the first book, I always wished Celaena would choose him instead of grumpy grandpa chaol. I liked chaol well enough tho, even when he was such a little shit asking her what she did to deserve her scars and always being scared of her like he just loves a part of her; not the assassin, not the king's champion and definitely not the queen. I still liked him anyway for some reason until QoS but then he was such an asshole to her??? The girl is trying to save her kingdom from the evil king you served not that long ago. He keeps resenting her for it. And blaming the massacres of Endovier and Calculla on her too? That was so uncool. He thought she was just frolicking around faeries in wendlyn; it made me so mad, as if he knows anything about her. So I can understand not wanting to read ToD — also because I can't possibly read about fucking chaol when Aelin's in an iron coffin oh god. But please remember to read a summary or some things won't make sense! All Elorcan scenes were so cute but particularly the one where he left stripes of his shirt for her to use for her period. That was so un-Lorcan-like so I loved it. Also that other scene where he drops the shield when Elide is attacked so that someone can heal her and he says I wanted to go to Perranth with you. It broke me. Aedion and Lysandra raising Evangeline along with kids of their own would be the sweetest thing ever in the world. I wish Gavriel and Aedion had more time together. I understand his mother hiding it from Gav to protect Aedion from Meave but I can't help but resent it because that wasn't exactly Gavriel's fault; he just wants his son. I can't— 😭 and Rowan's quote:

There's no limit to what I can give to you, no time I need. Even when this world is a forgotten whisper of dust between the stars, I will still love you.

I didn't like Dorian and Sorscha; it seemed like that ship was being forced down my throat. So when Manorian started seeming like a possibility I didn't expect to like it as much as I ended up liking it! I loved and hated empire of storms' ending in equal measure for the whole whitethorn bunch turning on Meave, all their allies getting together, etc etc. And Aelin-Brannon interaction lmao this girl really be antagonizing everyone. 😂

[rikumorimachisgirl]

If Izumi and Sakyo are the mom and dad of the Mankai company, what about the others? I wanna know what you think.

Hello, Anon! Now this is the type of ask I wanna get. 😁 I looooove Sakyo and Izumi, and I'm so happy you agree that they're Mankai's dad and mom.

As for the rest of the crew... (Again this is just my opinion, so feel free to agree or agree to disagree):

The babies:

🌻 Muku, Yuki and Azami are the babies, and despite having the same age, their personalities are different from each other - Muku is the baby and the goodest boy, Yuki is sassy, and Azami is borderline emo (I have my dad! I'm a rebel!). Despite their differences (and the fact that Azami is rebelling against Sakyo the way Satan does Lucifer in another game), their parents love them all equally.

🌻 Masumi, Tenma, Taichi, and Kumon are awkward middle children. Like the babies, they're as different as day and night but are generally a good bunch. Masumi is especially attached to his mom, while Tenma is the most mature of the bunch. Taichi is the child they spend the most time trying to understand because he's too afraid to show his true personality. Sakyo and Izumi need to round up as many of their children as possible on a weekly basis to watch Kumon's games. Sakyo and Azami often argue about it, but Azami ends up going (and enjoying himself) anyway. (Also, I have a feeling Azami secretly wants all of his dad Sakyo's attention on him because he sees him as his hero, but that's just me!)

🌻 Sakuya, Banri, Juza are tough older brothers (Banri often thinks Sakuya is adopted though). Banri and Juza act like they don't care, but in reality they're very much aware of what's going on and are first to jump in and protect their sibs and their relatives if trouble arises. These two troublemakers often argue and sometimes it gets physical, so Sakuya always ends up having to intervene and talk some sense into them. He also bribes the little ones with candies and snacks to make sure they don't tell their parents about Banri and Juza's fights.

🌻 Tsuzuru and Kazu are the twins who aren't like twins. They're both very artistic, but that's about all they have in common. Tsuzuru is an introvert who wants quiet spaces so he can write, while Kazu is the party animal. They were once roommates but had to be split up because Kazu was way too noisy for Tsuzuru's taste. (To this day, Kazu is still heartbroken about this, but he doesn't let it show)

🌻 Masumi is a gymnast and a member of the Japan Gymnastics team. He's one of the reasons mom and dad are out a lot because of the demands of his schedule and his competitions.

🌻 Omi is the eldest son, therefore the one who fusses over his siblings most. He spoils each of them, and makes sure the house is in order while dad and mom are out.

The extended family (because you know, we're Asians)

🌻 Sakoda is dad's nephew and boy-Friday. Despite how hard dad is on him, he trusts him with his life and is also the first to protect him.

🌻 Tasuku and Tsumungi are the children's cousins from their mom's side who live with them because their family is based elsewhere and they work in Tokyo.

🌻 Chigasaki and Chikage are the children's cousins from their dad's side who also live with them because they work in Tokyo.

🌻 Homare is mom's older brother, whom she doesn't see living on his own.

🌻 Azuma is dad's younger brother, who is currently in between jobs and is need of a place to crash.

🌻 Citron and Hisoka are foreign exchange students that the family is hosting. (Although I have a feeling they're gonna want to stay long after their program is finished.)

🌻 Matsukawa, Yuzo, and Tetsuro are mom's uncles who often (like 6/7 days) drop by to hang out with the kids along with their pet, Kamamechi.

I hope you enjoy this, as much as I had fun thinking this up. 💕

[tamersmile888]

Not So Berry Challenge Candie Edition: Lemon Play 6 (Part 2)

Hearts for Art. That's what the exhibition is called. Lemon's mother started a campaign for it years ago, and now every year, the museum displays local artists in celebration of creative expression. Their work is really good. It speaks in ways that words would probably have trouble interpreting.

Kind of like her. Inexpressible. If she had a piece of art that reflected her in colors and lines, that's what it would be called. Or maybe it would just be called, “Excuse my silence, my tongue is dysfunctional.” Less pretentious, but way more honest.

Finding her alone at the exhibition, Aara comes over to say hey. She examines the art in front of her and says, no offense, but this is kind of a bore. When Lemon doesn't respond (partially because she's trying to figure out what she likes about the art without sounding like a complete idiot who has no idea what she's actually talking about) Aara says, you're not really a talker are you?

Lemon fidgets a little and says, not really.

Aara looks around at the guests filling the museum lobby and says, I'm guessing you're not really a crowd person either. I spotted a skating rink nearby. Me and Otto were thinking about heading over. Want to join us?

Otto?

Huh...The last time Lemon's seen Otto was when they were little kids. He looks a lot different now. She wonders what Kelly's been up to.

She's never skated before, but it sounds like fun. And a lot less stressful than strangers potentially approaching her to tell her how great her mom is. And she is great. She'd just much rather read it in a comment. At least she'd have more time to come up with a response where silence is a lot less awkward.

It turns out...she was wrong. Skating is maybe equally as stressful. Especially when you're trying not to fall on your butt in front of your new classmates and become an instant meme.

It's relaxing to know that Otto and Aara aren't pro's either. It takes the pressure off not having to pretend to know exactly what she's doing. Otto even coaches her along, reminding her to take it slow. He says he doesn't want the president of the nation to lock them up for endangering her only child.

Lemon says, she's doing science experiments with teenagers. Her life is always in danger.

Otto laughs and says, Little Lemon coming with the facts. What other observations have she been accumulating in that overpowered mind of hers?

Lemon just smiles and shakes her head. Overpowered? She doesn't know about that? Overheated? Definitely.

After a bunch of laps and a couple of hilarious, but harmless falls, the skate trio return to the party to grab something to eat. And in Otto's case, finish his homework. He asks if they got through the math. He wants to check and make sure his answers are right. He's not trying to get called up to the board only to get embarrassed by the teacher. Lemon lets him look over her work and, sure enough, their answers match. Otto suggests they start a study group, but is quickly shut down by Aara who cuts in with a different subject. Israel's party.

She turns to Lemon and says, have you made up your mind? Are you going?

Lemon says she really hasn't thought much about it since that morning. Anti-crowds usually also means anti-party.

Aara says, but you're going to be missing out. And he's you're cousin. Isn't there, like, some unwritten rule that says you have to support your family when they're hosting something.

Otto says, no. I'm pretty sure you just wrote that book yourself.

Aara asks, so you're not going either? I'm not going by myself.

Otto says, you won't be by yourself, remember. It's a party. And it's Israel. The whole school is going to be there. 

Aara says, the whole school except my two best friends.

 Otto exchanges a look with Lemon. He says, she's pulling the best friend card. I didn't even know I had one. Did you take the picture for that? Lemon imagines the scenario. Holding an ID with her name on it and above her grinning face (if it wasn't mangled by the flash) are the words Best Friend. Her only other best friend was Grandma Pepper. And even if she remained her sole best friend until eternity, she'd be okay with that. But she liked the idea that someone outside of her family would want to be tied to her. Would want to be a part of her life. Especially someone from school. Someone she could go through it with together. She longed for that. That was special. And she couldn't just throw it away.

 So, against all the blaring sirens in her head, she says, let me think about it? I'll get back to you. He is my cousin after all.

 Aara's smile says enough. Lemon's “maybe” might as well be a green light.

[carrottuan93]

Haven’t met you yet | Mark

Masterlist (3/4) | part1 - part2 - part4

Starring: MK x You

Tags: Mark Tuan, Fluff, Destiny, Waiting, Christmas, Bookworm, Nerd, Love, Fate

Total WC: 2194

You nearly puked your guts out to the sight of Jackson sticking to Eunhee and hugging her like forever has been robbed from them. You failed to confide to your best friend about what happened to you in the last 24 hours. So as not to spoil their couple time together, you chose to not disturb them and just mingle with all the kids in the sweet treats section. You love kids so much you play Santa and distributed macarons to each one of them. As expected, most of your close friends and guests brought their own boyfriends, if not, their own husbands and it was a nice show to witness, with sarcasm aside. Thanks to Jackson’s little cousins, they keep you entertained with their bubbly personality.

 “One with the kids, sure you’re missing the party in the adult section, no?” The sight of a guy clad in a formal white dress shirt, tucked in a black denim pants partnered with a classic chuck taylor, and a gray winter coat, welcomed your eyes. Guys who dress fashionably is such a head turner for you.

“Actually, they keep me company so I’m having fun to be honest.” You replied, feeling all the weird sensation cascading across your spine. You feel a bit nauseous whenever guys approach you. You don’t know if you even want to be with a guy right now, after your embarrassing experience last night.

 “My cousins here are a bunch of nuisance, you’ll get tired of them soon.” He picked one matcha macaron from the aisle and took a bite of it. You observed his expression. A smile crept up to his face and you caught sight of Eunhee in a distant, gossiping to Jackson that you’re having a moment with his cousin. You certainly know that they’re mentally pairing you up already and you are growing nervous about the plans that they are possibly plotting behind your back.

 “You like it? I bought them all the way from a café near my workplace that sells classic macarons just like the original ones from Paris.” He nodded in approval as you watch him took another piece, this time it’s strawberry. That’s your favorite flavor among the rest and you can really tell that the sweet tooth runs on Jackson’s bloodline by how his cousins, from the little chubby ones and the grown up beside you, munch on your favorite treat.

 “I never really eat macarons, but you introduced me into it. You deserve a recognition, uhm?” He lifted his hand for a handshake. He doesn’t know your name yet so you took his hand and introduced yourself right away.

 “It’s Y/n, Eunhee’s best friend. Thank you for the recognition by the way. Well, you come here with a date?” You’re mentally tiptoeing above the thin ice. It’s better to assume that this cute guy over here is already taken, I mean with his looks, he's totally a charmer, you thought to yourself.

 “I didn’t bring anyone with me, so I assume you also come along on your own, no?” Green light. Okay, you need to calm down. This isn’t like any of your past blind dates but first meetups are usually nerve wracking and scary so you played the innocent heroine that you are and chose to just go with the flow seeing how Eunhee and Jackson are staring at you maliciously from Mark’s back, you know they were able to receive the death notes you are sending them via telepathy.

 “That explains it.” It’s not that you had a thing with cute guys, but maybe you just discovered it right now. You can tell he’s a decent one, a cool and random Asian-American import from the west and maybe if you’re an ice cream, you already turned into liquid by the way he stares at you.

 “I don’t know anything about you yet, but would you trust a complete stranger to celebrate your Christmas eve with? If you’re up for it, we’ll leave this party right away because I can tell that you’re going to get sick from all these couples outnumbering us.” Have you been a good girl this year? You didn’t include this guy on your Christmas list but Santa rewarded you without even asking for it.

 “I’m putting my trust on you knowing that Jackson is a good guy so does his cousin. I'll sue him and he’ll answer for the damages and fines in case you failed to bring me back in good shape.” You both let out a hefty chuckle earning glares from your best friend and her boyfriend. You’ve decided to pursue your spontaneous trip with Mark and the next thing you know you’re already closing the front door upon your exit even before the two of them could react to your great and grand escape.

  ----

  He took you on a ride away from the busy and bustling streets of Seoul. You're thrilled to find out that he actually brought you to Namsan Tower, the highest peak in the city. You're awed expression cannot suffice the picturesque panoramic scenery of Seoul unfolding in front of your very eyes when you entered the observatory on the top most floor. You were unable to talk all of a sudden and your heart is brimming with unexplained strings of emotion as you kept on taking pictures and videos of the breathtaking place that sent your eyes into a food coma.

 "I only went to N tower once, or maybe twice but that was during the day and I have no idea that this is how it looks at night. It's a miss, nobody will be able to witness this scene on a Christmas eve the way we're seeing it right now." You forgot about your shameful episodes of last night's happenings and your worries disappeared in just an instant.

 "I kind of paid for tonight's reservation when I arrived here in Korea a week ago, with the hopes of spending Christmas only to myself. Consider yourself lucky, you've managed to join me on this one-time event. Heck, the price I paid for is totally worth it. Come here and try this." He urged you to look on the telescope, and to your surprise, you're taking in every aspect of the city in a bird's eye perspective. Everything you look at is really stunning. Like you never really imagined that perfection exists for real until tonight and you're experiencing it with a random guy whom you've only met an hour ago. Your eyes met his and you wished you aren't redder than a rotten tomato for looking like a lost deer caught on a headlight.

 "The view here is really pretty.” He gave you a smile, too charming for your own consumption.

“It really is.” He’s even prettier than the view. You can only sense your guy-o-meter raising for Mark. Good lord, is this a sign? Your mind is now ready to tick the ideal guy boxes on your list.

 “We shouldn't keep this New York style pizza from waiting while it is hot.” He chuckled, like the cute kid that he is. There is something with his unique laugh that you really don’t mind hearing at all. Is he older than me? Please, I don’t want to date someone younger than me.

 “Okay, sure kid.” You followed him as he sat on the ground in a dimly lit room radiating a romantic atmosphere under the starry and chilly skies of Seoul. This is not a date, but a friendly escape out of boredom planned by two single hearts on a Christmas eve. As if you’re two partners in crime, sitting on one of the highest skyscrapers in town, while sharing a box of pizza. It’s just that you aren’t Bonnie and neither he is your Clyde but you're loving the idea of him as someone whom you can rely on.

 “I’m older than you, silly.” The sight of a wine bottle behind him caught your attention and wondered where it came from. He noticed you eyeing the prize so he did the honor and poured you a glass of wine while you’re devouring your slice of pizza. You never imagined that eating pizza is too romantic and one for the books.

 “Any proof that you’re actually above 25? Cause you really look young. With that face, you can qualify for a student discount on public transports and still save money for your commute.” You want to make sure that he’s at least 5 years older than you. You prefer dating someone older than you because they always say that a guy's maturity is a year delayed for his age.

 “Trust me, I just know. I’m old enough to buy a house and enter into casinos, I guess.” He gave you a wink and you felt a gush of strong wind blew your senses away. He’s totally a Romeo and you took a swig of wine while observing him secretly.

 “So you’re a gambler? I might have been spending my time with some kind of a mafia leader and still have no clue about it.” He’s laughing at it again. I might have a talent with making cute guys laugh and that’s an asset I only discovered right now.

 “What, no! But my dad is a big spender in casinos. My duty is to look out for him and take him home before he could even bet our fortune with his leisure. I could always hear him say ‘It has gotta be all or nothing’. He’s born for taking risks and maybe I got that gene from him that’s why.” He stretched his legs and sat like he’s on a photoshoot. He’s not a model but he can beat the professional ones even without the need for screening.

 “What’s the biggest risk you’ve taken in your life so far?” You folded your legs as you watch him wonder with his eyes fixed on the ceiling. He poured a glass for himself and you noticed that he used the same glass that you drink on.

 “I believe we’re taking risks everyday in our lives. The only difference is the distance of our leap towards taking or not taking chances at all. Like when you’re playing a game, everything starts with equal opportunities. It’s a race to the witch mountain. The first one to gamble takes it all. You gotta be the predator of every tournament and you gotta be the last one standing in a survival of the fittest. If you’re brave enough to take the earliest start, you can use that advantage to ace your end game. It’s all about timing and investing. Win or lose streak. There is no such thing as a grey area when it comes to taking risks. You don’t get to tie with anybody. Either you’ll win or lose. You just have to trust your instincts and roll your dice like everyday is your last day on earth. If I go for something, I go all in. No half-baked decisions. Because my father taught me that risks equates to rewards and I’m all up for the extremes of both worlds. That’s the one thing I’m best at. I know how to play the game nice and fair because I know how to measure the corners of a square and even the distance around the circle which is not visible to the naked eye. After all, he considers me as his lucky charm. That explains my presence to his endless casino nights. And he hardly ever loses if I’m with him. Sure, Pops are probably waiting for me at our doorstep in LA right now. Too bad, his son is on the other side of the world, taking his own risk of a lifetime.” You left with no words to say. He’s too deep, a food for the soul. Guys like him are the ones that can be displayed in museums. He’s a delicate art and nobody should be allowed to touch him but the curator. And you’d want to take that role.

 “What if you lose? If you go all in and you lose everything all at once? Have you experienced it already?” you asked, admiring the tiny mole sitting under his left eye. You decided to take your second glass of wine.

 “The best thing about losing is that you’ve tried. I don’t take failures as an excuse for not trying again and taking another risk the next day. If I lose, so what? That only means you’re brave because you grow stronger with every fall that you take. Like a bamboo tree, it only bends but it doesn’t break. Life is all about swimming against the current of uncertainties and finding yourself floating on top of your insecurities.” As if he’s summarizing all the lessons in life, you’d always want to go for the front seat. He’s a walking self-help book, and maybe Mark Manson’s book of ‘the subtle art of not giving a fuck’ would have to sit longer in my shelf for the meantime. I got a risk-taker author Mark, right here and I got nothing to worry about.

[mwolf0epsilon]

Maybe a story about Norman being a good parent?

Summary: Mindless beast or not, the Projectionist was a Polk, and the Polks did not hurt their young, or whatever they perceived as such.

You all knew it was coming inevitably...

---

[[MORE]]

     Norman's and Margarite's marriage had come as a surprise to the entire Polk family. A simple signature on a piece of paper, and a pair of battered rings that had belonged to Nanna and Poppop Polk (gifted to him by the former who always knew he'd be a better fit for them). No fanciful ceremony with pretty dresses or suits, expensive cakes and extensive guest list.

A disappointing waste, his mama had proclaimed over the letter she'd sent as a reply to his own that detailed his status as a married man in a far off city. She'd wanted to witness the event, shed her motherly tears as one of her little ducklings became a real man ready to start a family.

But, to Norman and Maggie, the marriage wasn't a motive of celebration like his mama thought. It was insurance against further discrimination towards them. They were, after all, the black couple that lived in a quaint apartment in New York city.

Already that was a challenge of its own, as said apartment was populated primarily by white hot-blooded tenants, with only one more laying vacant for a (hopefully) friendlier family.

Their downstairs neighbor clearly hated them from sight alone, and the others were unsure how the new additions fit into their "perfect" lives in the Big Apple. If any of them were to discover that they both enjoyed the full spectrum of the gender binary, well... Accidents happened in the big city. Accidents that targeted specific minorities for some "unfathomable" reason.

So yes, as shameful as it may be, their wedding was strictly business. Rings for show, public displays of affection to dispell the gossip, and overall just the usual married life arguments in the grocery store to sell the deal (neither of them could care less about which type of sugar made the best apple pie crust, or what brand of soap was better, but it sure made the couples they passed by smile knowingly at the common domestic disputes). There was just one thing left to do to really make a statement on their relationship status.

  "Three of my coworkers are getting maternity leave. It's been a few months, I think it's time."

Children were a sensitive topic. Both Norman and Maggie wanted kids, had a vague idea of how many they planned to raise, and were quite certain they'd make beautiful and healthy younglings with one another. The question was: Was it fair to bring in chidren into a farce of a matrimony? What if one day they found their actual ideal partner?

  "Yous better be sure it's the right time darlin'..." He'd urged her to think more on the subject. "Don't want to rush things like that now, do we?"

  "I'm ready." She'd stared him in the eye with a certainty and confidence he couldn't begin to imagine. He knew she was, but was he? Was he truly ready to bare such a responsibility?

That night he relented to her wishes and they had finally consummated their marriage. Nine months later, little Nancy was born a small but relatively healthy baby. Upon seeing his firstborn for the first time ever, and then holding her gently in hands that dwarfed her little head greatly, Norman immediately understood he was ready to be a parent. And a loving one at that.

-

     In total, Norman and Maggie had five children. Three boys and two girls. Nancy was their eldest child and the more levelheaded of the bunch. The apple of her mother's eye, and her father's baby girl, she was the perfect balance of their greatest qualities and teachings. A clever and determined young girl with big aspirations for her future. She wanted to be a doctor.

Aaron was the second eldest child and the one most like his father. Clever and with an eye for detail, enough so that he had taken up an interest that fits his perceptive nature: Photography. The walls of the Polk household were filled with his works, at first done with Norman's own old and battered camera, until he'd bought the young lad his very own fancy new model.

Louise was the middle child, and the troublemaker of the bunch. She was a bit of a tomboy, and liked to scrap with the boys in her class, to the point where it wasn't uncommon to see her with several bruises and band-aids, and haphazardly taped wireframed glasses. She kept both Norman and Maggie on their toes.

Albert was the second youngest and the quietest. A little bookworm that appreciated the art of literature over anything else. He wanted to be a novelist, even at a very young age, and often shared ideas for stories at the dinner table. There was no doubt in Norman's heart that his little boy would write a best-seller one day. Maggie fretted for his social life, however, as he was the least sociable of their children. Far too shy.

Finally the youngest child was Willard. An outspoken young toddler that was definitely as confident as his mama. A little tot with a very big personality indeed, that Norman couldn't wait to see grow up into yet another fine young boy. If any of their children was to ever get what he wanted in life, it'd definitely be Will.

Truly there was nothing in this world that Norman loved more than his offsprings, and indulging in their interests was always an adventure. One to be shared with three other members of the family.

The vacant apartment had been occupied by Norman's younger brother, Alfred, and his own two children. By then almost all their neighbors (minus the one that hated them from day one) had warmed up to them. So another set of friendly faces was a good addition to their home life.

Norman absolutely loved watching over his nephew and niece, especially because his children were delighted to have other kids around their age to play with.

It reminded him of being back home in Louisiana, his own brothers and sisters sparring with him and playing whatever games they could come up with on the spot. Watching Louise and Nelson tumbling about fighting as equally dirty as the other, really stirred up some good memories he had of his older sisters.

"Bite her Nelson! Bite her!" Lydia cheered as her older brother pinned their cousin to the ground.

"Louise tug on his ears! Pummel him!" Aaron called out to his little sister, encouraging her to fend off her opponent.

"Lydia and Aaron! What I tell y'all 'bout encouragin' yous's siblings t'fight all nasty?!"

"Not to...?"

"Exactly."

Granted some play-fighting needed to be monitored when most of the audience were enablers, and neither his middle child nor his nephew had any qualms sending each other to the hospital. They were still learning about consequences after all.

Still, there wasn't anything else in the world that built better character than teaching the children that they were equals to one another in all their shared activities. Respect was an important lesson to be learned. One Norman wished every parent taught their child.

The world would be a better place otherwise...

-

Sometimes the Projectionist would inevitably be unable to fend off sleep. The exhaustion would wear it down and give way to the nightmares of a life it could barely remember. Then it would wake up and scream, trying to rid itself of heinous visions of itself ripping its offsprings apart.

Norman Polk would reawaken inside its brutish body and lash out, hoping to either physically fight away his own broken psyche or perhaps cripple the Projectionist so that it could never fulfil these dreamt up acts of violence.

A Polk was all about family, and the thought of becoming the sort to bring harm upon his own children... Well, Norman had heard the stories. Knew why Poppop was such a taboo topic. He did not want to be the man besides his Nanna in the portrait above the fireplace... One he'd resembled if his eye wasn't wrong and he'd grown out his beard...

The Projectionist didn't have the mental faculties to understand this distress however, but it seemed to recognize that what it saw in dreams was bad. That what it did to the vermin, it should never do to those innocent little youngsters that looked at it with love instead of fear and hatred. So... Why did it do it in dreams? Why did it kill when it wanted to be docile? The children were not a threat, so why...?

It made no sense... But it didn't much care for elaborate existential crisis like that. Norman's consciousness would freak it out, but ultimately loosened its grip and go back to being dormant. The lumbering beast resuming its tiring trek through the endless maze. A cycle that would repeat itself the next time it fell asleep.

It was in the aftermath of yet another nightmare that the Projectionist came across something completely new to it. Something small and living, and very much intruding on its space. Something that very vaguely looked like it...

A living being with a body similar to the ones the horrible botched critters that ran around in packs had, yet with no visible imperfections to it. Its head though... It was kind of like a projector, but not. Square in shape, with a lens, a tube, dial and something very round that kind of looked like a big ear. A camera, like the one Aaron had gotten for his birthday.

It seemed to have gloves, shoes and a belt that sort of looked like the speaker lodged in the Projectionist's torso, but it was hard to tell since the strange being was on the ground flailing about like a dying fish.

The towering amalgam stared at the tiny new thing in dumbfounded silence, unsure how to react to such a strange discovery, until it realized why the thing was flailing about to begin with.

One of its legs was pinned under a crate that appeared to have fallen from a nearby stack, and the Projectionist could tell the limb was broken. Nearby lay a series of Ink Hearts that had been resting on the fallen crate.

On any other occasion it would have simply walked over, raised one heavy foot, and crushed the intruder's skull for daring to try to steal from it. This time however, was completely different... Something primal was urging the Projectionist to do something completely alien to its usually aggressive nature. Something instinctive.

The poor creature grew agitated upon finally noticing the Projectionist's presence as it approached, but its broken limb ensured it stayed put even after the crate was picked up and tossed aside. It shook fearfully once the Projectionist knelt down to pick it up by the torso. It stopped shaking once it was brought to rest against the much larger beast's chest, cradled gently like an infant. The Projectionist rumbling softly so as to reassure it that no harm would befall it.

The little creature, with a head that was not a projector but a distant relative of a sort, stared up with its own dark lens before reaching out to gently pat the Projectionist's "face". It seemed to understand its intention to help it, rather than exterminate it.

The lumbering beast carried on in its path, now carrying a most precious cargo. It would find something to help treat the injury and then it would begin teaching this newly adopted offspring to survive in the studio.

Mindless beast or not, the Projectionist was still a Polk, and the Polks cared for their younglings. This tiny sentient camera was its child now, and the beast would protect it from the horrors of this horrid studio.

[gayenerd]

Green Day Deals with the "Rock Star" Dookie 

by Tom Lanham 

(First appeared in BAM Magazine, March 10, 1995)

 Young, loud, and snotty equals beaucoup bucks? What pencil-pushing, graph-charting trend spotter could've predicted it? But the facts speak for themselves: As of late February, Dookie--the brattish, snap 'n' snarl Reprise salvo from Berkeley's sloppy punk trio, Green Day--has sold six million copies. Six million. Chances are, somebody on your block is jumping up and down in his living room at this very moment to the scrap-metal power chords and ardent apathy of "Longview," "Burnout," "Basket Case," or "When I Come Around" and getting lost in the teen abandon of these testy 22-year-olds--weasel-voiced, Montgomery-Clift-like charismatic singer/guitarist Billie Joe; tom-tom tribal percussionist Tre Cool (of the ever-morphing hair-color fame); and bassist Mike Dirnt (who survived Green Day's appearance at Woodstock '94, although several of his teeth did not). 

Yes, punk rock is a marketable phenomenon these days, leaving many involved with the music's initial late-'70s, early-'80s wave scratching their heads, wondering why it didn't take the first time around. Public reaction started as curiosity ("Hey, honey, c'mere and lookit these goofy, green-haired little whippersnappers in an insane asylum on MTV!"), but spiraled up to rock-diet necessity (Green Day just won Grammy and they're nominated for quite a few Bammies as well, including such categories as Outstanding Group, Outstanding Album, and Outstanding Song--"Longview" and "Basket Case"). The fact that they've been nominated at all probably sends a shiver up the old dinosaur backbones of Eddie Money, Huey Lewis, and Boz Scaggs, a time-creepy feeling of "Gee, what the hell do we do now?" Because this isn't just some flash-in-the-pan punk movement, folks--this is a youth movement; Green Day are, as they hiply term it, "bored in the 'burbs," and reaching out, through TV and radio, like some prodigal preachers to other American kids who sense the same slacker ennui. Obviously, we're talking truckloads of kids. 

Ironically, the more fame edges into the Green Day ruffians' lives, the more mature they seem to become. They've turned down all interview requests as of late, even People magazine, preferring to lay low until this tide of interest recedes. Billie Joe got married last autumn, and spent his honeymoon--not in any exotic, expensive locale--but in Berkeley's grand old Claremont Hotel. Cool recently became a father, and Billie Joe's child is due any day now. It's a responsibility they've both eagerly undertaken. Rob Cavallo, the boys' coproducer and A&R man at Reprise, swears they're "old souls, the smartest young kids I've ever met." It rings true. 

The first time I spoke with Green Day, in January of '94, Cool, Dirnt, and Billie Joe were lazing around their dingy basement apartment in Berkeley, sitting on chairs and couches with potentially painful springs poking through. Rock 'n' roll bubblegum cards were scattered across a coffee table, along with several bongs of various sizes, plus a four-and-a-half foot red plastic pipe dubbed "Bongzilla" leaned against a doorway. The only wall decoration, besides a Ren & Stimpy poster, was a Twister game mat nailed up in its entirety, presumably for high-schoolish humor's sake. 

When I'd met Billie Joe a few months earlier at a campus concert, his hair was dyed lime-green and featured squidlike tufts. Now it was dark brown, with only two tufts remaining, and both his ears and nose had piercings. Periodically during the interview, he'd ram a finger into that pierced nostril, rummage around, then stare idly at the resultant booger before flicking it on to the carpet. Cool wandered out of the rec room for several minutes, but returned, red-eyed, to proudly proclaim, "Lookit me! I'm stoned, dude!" Dirnt--when he wasn't strumming an acoustic guitar--kept watching their windowsill Sea Monkey tank, finally noting, "Hey, these Sea Monkeys look just like sperm!" 

Despite all these schoolboy, poo-poo wit trappings (dookie, after all, is kiddie slang for excrement), there was a sense of seasoned wisdom about them, a feeling that they were, as Cavallo postulated, truly old souls. Like the class clown who frustrates all of his teachers by also maintaining a 4.0 grade average, Green Day can afford to play because their work--brilliantly skewed three-minute pop songs, delivered with such vehemence and vitriol you don't dare doubt them--certainly speaks for itself. But, sooner or later, of course, the band has to speak for itself, too, so what follows is a set of excerpts from that first ratty-digs meeting, as well as a later chat with Billie Joe, sans sidekicks. How did Green Day take over the rock world in less than a year? That's the six-million-copy question, and hopefully we'll provide a few answers. 

* * * 

So punk is back, whether America likes it or not? 

BILLIE JOE: It's always been around, and everyone has their own interpretation of it. It's weird to actually call it "punk" again, when it's been there all the time. 

MIKE DIRNT: It's been springing up in little suburban areas, where people grab it and express themselves. 

TRE COOL: It's people who make a point of setting aside all responsibilities and just playing music. And doing fat joint after fat joint--you have to let go of things like paying rent, going to school, having a job. 

BJ: And, if you can't tell by my house, we don't have a very high standard of living. 

How does today's punk rock differ from its late-'70s cousin?

 BJ: I think it was all about art and fashion back then, really, because everyone who was a punk in England was in art school. I read an early interview with Dee Dee Ramone, where he said he wished the Ramones had more of a glamorous appeal, too, instead of playing in jeans and leather jackets. But it was definitely about fashion, until the Clash really brought out the political side. Our music came from being bored in the 'burbs. You get put in this high school situation, where you're learning someone else's rules in a room with 30 other people that you don't really like. There's nothing interesting about it whatsoever, so you pick up a guitar instead. 

But you all tried college, at least for awhile, right? 

MD: And then we started touring. Constantly. 

TC: So most of our reading now comes from highway signs. 

MD: It's the old grasshopper and the ant story. The thought of actually working is just so... 

TC: Sickening! 

MD: Yeah. So we put everything we had into not working. This is what I do best, and I was always told, "If you're gonna do something, do it the best you can." So why not do the best thing you can, too? 

You guys--at least Mike and Billie Joe--have known each other since you were 10? 

BJ: And the first conversation we ever had was about writing songs. And then we just started playing music. 

A lot of the stuff on your early Lookout! records shows what was on your mind at the time--namely, girls. 

BJ: That was pretty much the viewpoint of a 16-year-old kid. I don't write stuff like that anymore. The new songs are more about coming of age and being apathetic and neurotic.

 Where were your parents when you were touring [at age 16]? 

MD: At work, doing their own thing. 

BJ: My mom's worked a waitress job for like the past 40 years or something, and whatever I was doing was OK with her. 

MD: I moved out when I was 15, and I worked all the way through high school. 

BJ: And me, I've never held a job longer than two weeks. I tried to flip pizzas--it didn't work. I tried cleaning toilets in the Red Onion in El Sobrante. Me and TrŽ, we used to work for the SF Chronicle, selling papers. I sold three the first day, and the next day we just smoked pot, and we smoked pot the next day after that. So we had hella extra papers lying around. Our ultimate goal wasn't to get rich or famous or anything like that. It was to not have a regular job and not be miserable. 

MD: And I've lived in every city around here, except for Albany. Literally. And one thing we want to establish about ourselves is that we're just a bunch of geeks from the suburbs. 

Well, one of the first times I saw you, you guys were closing your set with Survivor's "Eye of the Tiger." That's pretty geeky. 

MD: I grew up on radio--that's all I had. When I was a little kid, I couldn't afford records. I'll tell you, I've been down to a dollar in my pocket a lot of times. I've even lived in my truck. I can remember shooting rats with a BB gun in the flat we used to live in, before they'd make it to our food. 

BJ: I've always been really good about saving. If I got some money, I'd put it away instead of spending it, and I'd buy ramen. 

Why name your disc Dookie? 

TC: Warner's said we could do anything we want, as long as we didn't say "Cop Killer." 

BJ: Somebody told our manager that the ad for it was the most tasteless thing they'd ever seen in Billboard magazine. 

What exactly do you mean on Dookie by "Welcome to Paradise"? 

BJ, MD, TC [in unison]: West Oakland! 

MD: Living in West Oakland, and going out to parties every night. 

So it cost, what, around $100,000 to make Dookie? 

MD: Yeah. We kept the advances low, because you gotta pay all that shit back. Everyone knows you can't become an instant millionaire just by signing, because there are so many people that want a piece of you. 

BJ: We hang out with mostly punks though, and they don't want anything we have. They could care less. And a lot of our friends don't even agree with us being on a major label. 

Is Green Day angry? 

BJ: No, I'm not angry, like, walking around all the time with a frown on my face. But the way my music is interpreted is very angry. 

MD: When you feel really strongly about something, you want to let it out in the most powerful way possible. 

Like the way you baited your old high school principal from the Warfield stage recently? 

MD: I think he was an asshole. He treated me with no respect. And for high school initiation, we got our heads shaved--that's the kind of small-town shit we had to deal with! Sometimes they made you push a penny up the street with your nose. But that's life, and anywhere you go, you're gonna hate a lot of shit in your life. You'll be handed

Dookie? 

MD: Yeah. Yeah, you'll be handed dookie through all parts of your life. And see, what you need to do is just deal with the dookie, build upon what you have, and make something out of the dookie, you know? Like an adobe dookie building! 

* * * 

Several months later, and Dookie is oozing its gooey way into the public consciousness big time. The fading summer heat sticks crackling to the Berkeley sidewalks as punks--many sporting monstrous green or fuchsia mohawks--zing by on skateboards by day, and huddle in Telegraph Avenue doorways by night, conserving feral body heat the whole time. It feels like another world here, a throwback to the Bay Area's DIY/hardcore scene of the early '80s, when squatters reigned supreme and burlesque Broadway--fueled by all-ages shows at the Mabuhay Gardens, On Broadway, and even an occasional GBH or UK Subs booking at the Stone--made weekend conversions to "Punk Playground, USA." It was the best of times; it was the worst of times--despite relentless touring, most of these bands sold bupkus in the way of records, and few, save Metallica, ever held pen in shaky hand over a major-label contract. 

Billie Joe saunters into the Berkeley coffeehouse in rumpled jeans and a grease-spattered flannel shirt; his once-green-and-tufty tresses have grown out into Wally Cleaver waves and been dyed a Rod Stewarty blond. He looks like one of those feisty punks of yore; like he could hold his own through sheer physical endurance in the wildest of thrash pits. There's a new authority about him, the way he strides confidently to the counter, orders a pint-size glass of coffee, then swims through a sea of late-lunching yuppies to grab a table. The singer doesn't seem to notice them at all. Or maybe he's just too tired from nonstop touring to really give a shit. He smiles a goofy grin, revealing a set of generally crooked or chipped choppers, with an entire half of one front tooth missing. But there's such charisma behind it, the same kind of "Who, me?" innocence that little kids use. Billie Joe, you might say, has quickly become the Bart Simpson of the alternative set. 

How else could you explain his uncensored performance at a certain outdoor arena where--in a hyperspeed set lasting only 30 minutes before management threatened to pull the plug--he a) unzipped his fly and paraded his privates around for all to see; b) handed a stunned fan his beat-up, sticker-plastered guitar and urged him to play it; c) destroyed a $600 microphone by smashing it into the stage, then destroyed a second mike he was handed as well; and d) encouraged half the venue to chant, "Rock 'n' roll!" and the other half to respond with, "Shut the fuck up!" He then closed the show with a proposition--"They'll be really angry with us, but what we could do is rip out the seats!" he told the audience, which promptly gave Green Day a standing ovation. Billie Joe not only shrugs off such shenanigans as artistic license, he gets away with them! He's even encouraged to continue by fans who empathize with his uppity "fuck authority" attitude. 

But the facts were all on the table as Billie Joe sipped his house blend that afternoon, and it didn't take a fortune teller to read 'em. Green Day was hitting big time. Fast. And the sheer enormity of the undertaking, the weight of all its accordant responsibility, was just beginning to hit him. He looked older, wiser, and spoke in more grownup tones about his future, which then included a pending marriage to longtime girlfriend Adrienne. You could practically feel this new maturity encircling him like some protective aura. 

* * * 

=Where do all these punks on Telegraph come from? They can't all be local and homeless. 

I think Telegraph has just become this cultural mecca for punk rockers, because most of 'em who are on the Avenue aren't even from here. They're from Arizona, Minneapolis, New York, Florida. They just come out and end up squatting in houses in Berkeley. Why here? It's the climate, and the scene itself--Gilman Street and Maximum Rock 'n' Roll are in this area, and have a link to each other. But at the same time, it's separated, because there are so many different factions of punk now. There are the squatters, the pop-cores, the mods, the crusties. And all these types of people come out just to check it out. Plus, there's the best coffee in Berkeley, and a lot of 'em are real super coffee-drinkers, just pounding cup after cup all the time. It's pretty rare to come across a punk who doesn't drink coffee. I can't drink too much coffee myself--it gives me the shakes at night, so I just have a little bit during the day. Then I can smoke dope and go to bed. 

=What's the attraction in squatting or homelessness for these kids? 

For a lot of 'em, it's the first sense of freedom that they've had. It's like, "You mean I don't have to be home by midnight?" They've pretty much told their families and schools to go fuck themselves, so they go off and do their own thing. When I was 17, I did the same thing. And I had this total sense of freedom, where no one's telling you what to do, you don't have a clock to punch in on, you don't have people breathing down your neck; you don't have any deadlines to meet. You have this endless schedule where you can stay up all night drinking with your friends, or do anything you want. 

=But isn't "Coming Clean" about leaving behind your wilder ways? 

It's also about coming to grips with your sexuality. There's one line, "Skeletons come to life in my closet." And it's like, "Am I homosexual or heterosexual?" You go through this adolescent stage in your life where you don't really know what you are, and one side is taboo because your parents brought you up to think being gay was wrong. And if you come to grips with yourself, that you happen to be gay or bi or whatever, well, that was one thing about punk that was so accepting--all creeds were welcome, all sexualities, everything. 

=Was this something you went through personally? 

Yeah, to a certain extent. But I don't want to go around waving a gay flag or anything. 

=Well, you had a beautiful girl on your arm backstage at the last Green Day show. 

That's Adrienne. She's cool. Actually, we're engaged. That's why it took me so long getting here today--I had to get this! [Rolls sleeve up on tattooed arm, points to a bandaged-on cotton swab] Blood test, dude! We're getting married next week! 

=Has anybody tried to tell you you're too young for such a serious move? 

Of course. There are a lot of people who've said stuff. My parents have been a little more understanding than her parents. I just called my mom yesterday and said, "Mom, I'm gettin' married," and she said, "That's fine, son. Have fun!" I can hardly surprise my mother nowadays. But [this relationship] has been a recurring thing for the past four years, and we just decided to get serious about it. She's coming out here, and we're moving in together, so it's like, "Why not?" I don't really have any wild oats to sow, or anything like that. I'm not into the "Gettin' chicks all the time" thing.

 =I know a lot of girls who'll be really bummed that you're gittin' hitched. They all seem to have developed a crush on you... 

Me?! It must be the teeth [grins again].

 =OK, so maybe you didn't brush often enough when you were young. But you were busy developing a direction... 

I wouldn't necessarily say I had a direction or anything. I just knew I wanted to write songs. It comes from...uh...I don't know. I have no idea. It wasn't any kind of cosmic force or anything like that; it was just a matter of having a guitar around and wanting to play it all the time. I've had the same guitar since I was 11--I bought it off this guy at a guitar store. And I still play it--you know, the blue one with stickers all over it? That's my blue guitar, and, for some reason, things come to life, and everyone calls it "Blue" now--"Where's Blue? Can I pick up Blue and play it?" 

=And you let just anybody touch it? 

Oh yeah! Blue's not prejudiced. 

=It's interesting to note that the general public seems to think Dookie is your debut. 

Yeah, but that's just the general public. There are people who've been with us since the beginning, who know how long we've been around, since our first 7-inch came out back in '89. 

=And now you can afford to trash pricey microphones. 

Actually, Warner Brothers paid for those. It was pretty nice of 'em. They looked really nice--I remember looking at 'em and thinking, "Nice microphones!" They gave me one mike and I took it and threw it down, and they gave me another, and at the end of the set I creamed it pretty hard, I guess. We toured Europe with this band Die Toten Hosen--we played nine dates with 'em--and we got charged for a microphone every night. I dunno, for some reason we just started smashing shit. We'd start throwing equipment around at the end of each set, and these kids would start grabbing Tre's drum set and throwing it, and then they started smashing the microphones too. And the bouncers just couldn't do anything about it. 

=And you actually yanked your dick out onstage too? 

I did. Totally. It was the real thing. I dunno. The bands that we were playing with were just boring. It was more like making a mockery of the whole thing. The big arena rock thing is just so dated now, like Journey or Queen. Which is why I think punk rock started to begin with--it was this reaction to all the dinosaur bands. So for me, that show was, "How can we make a complete mockery of this but at the same time have fun with it?" I like to leave people guessing, "Did he hate that or did he like that?" It's not that I don't care--it's more that I'm careless. I try to be as happy-go-lucky as I can, but you can become apathetic at the same time. 

=Do you feel like Green Day is a part of, or represents, the so-called "slacker generation"? 

There's one side of me that doesn't mind it, because it's a generational thing, and another side of me that says, "Fuck that!" The reason I wrote the songs is, I ended up going back to Rodeo, where I'm from, for a week. And then I said, "Fuck it," and left. But I managed to get several good songs out of it. A lot of my friends had just turned into complete burnouts. And these are kids I've known since kindergarten, because it's a small town and you know everybody. And it was all fixing cars, staying up all night on methamphetamines, smoking dope, and finding out all these rumors about people I haven't heard of in 10 years. Like, "Oh, did you hear about so-and-so, who got married, had three kids, and ended up shooting everybody in his family?" And it happened! It was a true story! You're there for one week, and you get caught up in it. You get so bored, all you wanna do is watch television. And there are no record stores, nothing around, so you end up hanging out with all these delinquents who aren't punkers at all, just cultural idiots. So I was watching all these people rot and rotting with them until I realized, "Shit! I gotta get the fuck outta here!" 

=As they say, you can never go home again. 

Oh yeah, definitely. Unless you get pregnant, like my sister did. Then you have to go. But I quit school my senior year--I just wasn't getting anything out of it. I was taking nine periods a day, plus night classes, which left me no time to smoke dope whatsoever. And my mom even suggested I drop out, because she was a dropout, too. I come from a long line of dropouts. I still have nightmares about being late with my homework assignments. When I finally went in to sign out of high school, the teacher went, "Now, who are you again?" 

=And if that teacher could see you now! 

A lot of people think you get this big connection with a corporate label, and you make millions of dollars, but they don't understand that you just don't make that much money. And when you do, it's easy to piss it away. I mean, every cent that I've made, I've pissed away. I'm not gonna say how I did it, but I don't have it But I don't think you necessarily have to be a punk to decide to say, "Fuck it." You don't even have to have a direction. It's just a matter of getting the fuck out and exploring things for yourself. 

=But didn't you feel abject terror when you first set out on your own? 

Nah, I didn't. Because, for some reason, I knew things were gonna be all right. You can create your own future as long as karma's on your side. And I'm a strong believer in karma. I think things can come back to you if you're just willing to give. 

* * * 

True enough. At least six million times over!

1995 Tom Lanham

[livingmybestfictionallife]

Knife in a Gun Fight

Colson Baker/MGK 1920s bootlegger AU

A/N--This is the very short intro/prologue of my Colson Baker/MGK 1920s gangster AU. Message me to be added to the tag list, and chapter 1 will be up in a few hours.

Established in the plains of north Texas, a solitary, Irish Catholic family existed solely on their ability to farm and sell—farm, sell, farm, sell. For generations, farming produce, such as wheat and corn, was all any member of the Nevin family knew. There was nothing outside of the small, flat farm; no prospects of any other career, no hope for advancement, no life for a person with the last name Nevin, and the same could be said about the Klaffs. This was a fact of nature known for generations upon generations, until the birth of Siobhan-Honora Nevin.

As a bitter cold air pierced her neck, Siobhan peeled her eyes away from the newspaper she had been examining and carefully scanned the room. Sure, there was a sense of protection as she sat in a semi-circle booth surrounded by her cousins and brothers, but it didn’t take away from the sheer danger she knew they were in. The cozy and welcoming feeling of the small café she sat in did nothing to ease the gnawing within her stomach as her eyes nervously danced across the room once more before she returned her attention to the paper before her.

A fresh mug of steaming hot coffee was placed in front of her by a young woman who couldn’t have been much older than herself, and she tried to ignore the flirtatious glances the woman exchanged with her older cousin, George Klaff. “Do you mind,” Siobhan huffed under her breath as she pulled the paper back to her line of sight and cautiously examined it for any tips or leads that contained information about any of the five individuals gathered around the table.

“Get off it, Shiv,” George grumbled as he leaned over and propped his elbows up onto the table. “We’re in Saint Paul. Ain’t no body going to find us here.” Shiv eyed her cousin as she chewed anxiously at the inside of her lip.

“We’re ‘hiding out’ in the place all criminals go to lay low. It’s a safe haven for the lowly, and it’s the first place someone will come looking for us,” Shiv retorted as she lowered her voice and glared across the table at George.

“Lay off her, George. You know she’s right,” George’s little brother, Walter, piped up. At only twenty-one, Walter was the youngest of the bunch of familial misfits. He hadn’t meant to get mixed up in the actions of his older brother and cousins, but once he had, he knew there was no going back.

“Who’s the oldest one here?” George retorted as he scanned over the faces before him. “Who formed this operation nine years ago?”

“You know your role, George,” said Shiv’s older brother, Arthur, in a deep and low tone. “All of us do, and right now, it’s time for us to back down and for Shiv to take over. Got it?” George scrunched up his face and pursed his lips in aggravation, however he knew the words Art had spoken to be true.

Had it really been nine years? Shiv thought as she looked over the men’s faces around her. George was a year away from thirty with nothing to show as proof he’d lived life other than a few scars from narrow escapes from death. George was a fairly tall man, standing just below six foot, with a stocky build. His dark eyes were clouded with hooded brows and his black hair fell over his forehead in shaggy strands. The energetic and playful look he’d once had when he first, unintentionally, introduced his cousins and brother to this lifestyle was replaced with a stoic and mysterious grimace which instantly tied together his allure of being the tall, dark, and handsome stranger of the group.

Art stood slightly taller than George with a leaner frame but equally as strong and muscular as his older cousin. He was only seventeen when he began driving George around to neighboring counties, unaware at first of what they were doing, however upon realizing there was something to do with his life other than farming, Art willingly continued working with George. His deep blue eyes had only grown sharper with time and his once sandy blonde hair had darkened into a light brown.

A year of Art and George wandering throughout Collin, Grayson, and Hunt counties was more than enough time for Shiv to connect the dots and blackmail her way into the non-nefarious criminal activities the pair of cousins were performing. At sixteen, she could see the benefits her brother and cousin were bringing their families, and being the only educated member of either family—aside from their parents—Shiv demanded to be let into the operation. She’d always been tough and stronger than other girls her age. Being a girl didn’t excuse her from working on the farm once she returned home from school or had no where to go during the summer, however it did damn her to the fate of being nothing more than bride-wealth for her family. She saw what her cousin and brother were doing to be a means of escaping her fate, and like the older two members of the group, she embraced it.

Undenounced to Shiv, her younger brother Edmund had overheard her conversation with George and Art, and threatened to tell their parents if they didn’t include him. Two years later, when Walt was fifteen, he joined what would become known across the country as the Nevin-Klaff gang.

The papers have it wrong, Shiv would constantly tell herself as she read article after article in nearly every Tribune, Press, News, Gazette, and Journal from Texas to Minnesota containing the words Nevin and Klaff. They only see us as breaking the law. They don’t care that it’s a stupid law, and they certainly don’t try and see the benefits small farms across the country are reaping because of it. Shiv knew the papers didn’t care, that law enforcement didn’t care, and that no glory would ever be sent their way, but she knew that because of her, her brothers, and her cousins, farmers that would have otherwise lost their land to banks are now developing nest eggs, and that was all that mattered to her.

“I wonder how Ma and Pop are doing,” Eddy sighed as his eyes trailed the paper over his sister’s shoulder. She knew he was trying to read, and after what she’d been teaching him, she assumed he could come to the same conclusion she had—they were going to be on the move for quite some time.

“Sometimes I have dreams of Mom and Pa swinging out on the porch swing with Auntie Johanna and Uncle Owen, not having to worry about a damned thing anymore, but then I remember they’re probably worrying about us,” Walt sighed as he scooped some eggs up on his fork and shoveled them into his mouth. “It makes me want to see them again.”

“Y’all know we can’t ever go home,” Shiv commented sharply as her eyes darted between the two younger members of the group. Edmund was only a year younger than her, but only growing up on the farm and not having any friends outside of their cousins made him seem much younger than his biological age, and even thought Walter was only three years younger than Shiv, he shared a similar outlook as Eddy. “I don’t mean to sound harsh, but you knew this was a possibility when you signed up,” she said in a softer and more gentle tone after seeing how her brother’s face fell at her harsh words.

“They’re still kids, Shiv,” George whispered into his cousin’s ear only to have her turn her head to face him. Her pale eyes shone up at him as her dark hair fell around the soft, pale skin of her face. Everything about her was binary; her features were sharp yet gentle, she was dangerous but offered safety and comfort, and the one he struggled most with: the wisdom that aged her stood in stark contrast to her youth. Too many times both George and Art forgot that the brains leading them across the country and into safety while still calculating ways to help others was barely older than the two members he still considered kids.

“So, what do we do?” Art asked as he looked at his sister for guidance. Shiv laid the paper down in her lap and looked nervously over her accomplices’ shoulders before lowering her voice to a whisper.

“Local cops are looking for us in the towns we hit on the way up here. We stuck to smaller cities and already returned the profit to the farms. We have enough cash to keep us tied over for a bit, but we have to be careful. No blowing cash, starting fights, or trying to find a quick score or fast job, got it?” she asked as she met each of her family members’ eyes. “Don’t draw attention to yourself by any other groups hanging around here. Most of the country’s attention is on Capone, so there’s still a way we can slide by unnoticed.”

“We can’t stay here forever, Shiv,” Art said softly as he stretched his back and looked out over the café.

“We just have to stay long enough for me to pull off one last scheme.” A devious smirk tugged at her lips as she plotted what was sure to be a one-way ticket to safety for her and her family. Shiv thought through everything: how to gain protection and ensure safety, how to pass through dangerous territory without feeling the threat of danger, how to not only survive, but thrive. She knew her plan inside and out, but there was one obstacle that stood in her way, one uncertainty she figured she could face and be done with, one man who was known by outsiders solely as The Gun.

Next Chapter 

[skepticalcatfrog]

Aurora High School (Introduction Part Two)

Introduction Part One Introduction Part Two Masterpost

Summary: After starting their junior year in high school, the Jones twins find themselves meeting new people, setting them on a track towards new friendships, new romances, new heartbreaks, and many new adventures.

Pairings: (Eventual) Scarlett Jones x Finian de Seel, Tyler Jones x Saedii Gilwraeth, and Aurora O'Malley x Kaliis Gilwraeth

Word count: 2,964

Author's Notes: Part two! This is going to be the last pre-set plot point for a bit, because requests are officially open! I'm going to elaborate on it in a later post, so look out for that!

Important Author's Notes: This story contains a character who uses a wheelchair. I did do some research, but since I don't experience it, it's virtually impossible for me to be an expert on this topic. If you are more knowledgeable about this than I might be, and you notice an inaccuracy, please let me know what it is and I'll try to fix it!

Scarlett and Tyler walked down the street towards the park, looking around at familiar houses and talking as they did.

"So, who did you invite?" Scarlett asked.

"Well, Cat, as always." Tyler told her. "Plus Aurora, and Kal. His sister's coming too, I said it would be fine if she did."

"When did you have time to get Aurora's number?" Scar kicked a pebble that was resting on the sidewalk.

"Turns out, we have the same gym class. I asked her for it there, because I realized that I forgot to when we did that tour." Tyler quickly explained. He looked at the clock on his phone. It was only three o'clock, meaning that they had at least four or five hours until the sun went down. "Did you invite anyone?"

"Of course. I wouldn't have let you pick the entire guest list." Scarlett shook her head. "I'd think that you'd know me better than that by now, it's been 17 years."

"Well then who did you text?"

"Zila and Finian." Scarlett said matter-of-factly. "Oh, and Cat. In case you forgot to."

"Finian is the kid from the principal's office, right?" Tyler's brows drew together.

"That's the one." Scarlett nodded.

"Are you sure he's not…" Tyler trailed off. Scarlett finished the thought for him.

"Am I sure he's not what? Bad news? A troublemaker?" She raised an eyebrow. "You were in the principal's office too, you know. And I don't hear anyone calling you bad news."

Tyler was quiet after that. He knew she was right. That, and he didn't feel like arguing about it right now. Scar was smart, she would be able to deal with things herself. And hey, maybe he shouldn't judge this guy so quickly. He probably hadn't even done anything too bad.

Ten minutes later, they got to the park. It was a wide open space with paved paths crossing through it, all leading to a wooden gazebo in the center. There was a parking lot on the opposite side with a few cars in it. Trees were scattered along the border of the park, as well as a few within the grassy area. It was a little windy, so the warm colored leaves were bristling in the trees, and the fallen ones were tumbling across the ground.

Tyler and Scarlett walked to the gazebo, where Cat was already sitting on a bench waiting for them. She smiled as she saw them approach.

"Told you I'd get here first, Ty." She teased.

"You're on the track team, it's not my fault you're faster than me." Tyler shot back as he and his sister sat across from her.

"That's no excuse, you're on the football team. Running is a big part of that too." She pointed out. "But anyway, moving on from the topic of who's faster even though it's totally me. What are we going to do today?"

"Well first things first, we're going to wait for the rest of the people we invited to get here." Scarlett gestured to the mostly empty table.

"So it's not just us this time?" Cat's smile faltered for a moment before returning.

"Nope, not just us." Tyler shook his head.

Just as he finished speaking, a car pulled into the parking lot. It was sleek, painted black with white accents. It had a certain look, like it was capable of going insanely fast but it was never really used for that. Kal stepped out of the passenger's seat. From the driver's side door came a girl who was very clearly his sister. They had the same dark hair and eyes, and the same tall and elegant stature. The sister's eyes were lined heavily, and she had black lipstick and nail polish on. The pair strolled over to the gazebo, and while Kal sat down, his sister stood by the edge.

"Tyler, Scarlett." Kal greeted them. "This is my sister, Saedii."

"Great to meet you." Tyler smiled at her.

Saedii held up her hand as a way to tell him to shut up. "Save your breath. I'm only here because my brother needed someone to bring him."

Tyler's smile disappeared completely. It wasn't often that he met someone who seemed that firmly set on not liking him. Scarlett could tell by the look in his eyes that he was definitely going to make it his mission to try and become friends with Kal's sister. But it wouldn't be easy.

"So… what do you guys do for fun?" Scarlett asked, trying to spark a conversation.

"My sister and I both take fencing classes." Kal answered.

"Yes, and I am much more skilled with a sword than he is." Saedii said in a way that sounded both like she was bragging and like she was plotting a murder. "I'm on the wrestling team as well."

"Oh, yeah, I think I might've known that already." Cat smiled, surprised to find an interest that she shared with one of these people she'd just met. "I go to the matches sometimes, just for fun."

"Oh." Saedii seemed equally surprised. "And you… you're on the track team, correct?"

"Damn right I am!" Cat nodded proudly. "I'm the fastest one on the team, too."

"I play a sport too, actually. I'm on the football team." Tyler piped up.

"Very proud of yourself, I see. Are you often praised for what you do?" Saedii raised an eyebrow. 

"Yeah, I-"

"Then perhaps you should stop letting the compliments get into your head. There's barely any room for the rest of us in this gazebo alongside you and your ego." Saedii deadpanned.

Tyler frowned. He hadn't even done anything wrong, he'd just mentioned that he was on the football team. Kal had mentioned that his sister didn't like football players, but apparently Tyler had underestimated just how much she hated them. "Well you're one to talk."

The conversation died down and became awkward, slightly hostile silence.

Soon enough, Zila arrived on foot. She was carrying her backpack with her, and how she'd managed to walk all the way to the park with a bunch of heavy school books was a mystery. She stopped in her tracks when she saw how many people were there.

"I was unaware of how big this gathering would be." She muttered.

"Hey, Z." Scarlett waved to her. "You can sit down, if you want."

"I think I will be alright standing." Zila assured her. "I do appreciate the sentiment, though."

Scarlett shrugged. "Okay, if you insist. But there's a spot for you if you change your mind."

A few more awkward minutes of no talking went by. Very few of the people in the gazebo actually knew each other. Maybe it had been a mistake to invite a bunch of complete strangers to hang out with each other, but there wasn't really any time to go back. 

After the long stretch of silence, Aurora got there on her bike. It was colorfully decorated, with hand-painted designs covering the entire frame. She chained it to the bike rack and walked over to where everyone else was sitting. She offered everyone a smile and wave, then sat down next to Tyler.

"Hi, everyone. I'm Aurora, but everyone calls me Auri." She said.

The moment he saw her, Kal was smitten. Aurora was beautiful, seemed very sweet, and was probably very creative based on the designs on her bike. Her eyes were unique, unlike anyone's he'd ever seen before. He was very clearly staring, but somehow, she hadn't noticed. Cat did though.

"Hey." Cat whispered harshly. "Loverboy. Might want to pick your jaw up off the ground, or else you might have to ask her out."

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean." Kal's posture straightened and he scowled, glancing at Cat.

"Hm. Guess that's just how your face looks then." Cat shrugged. She didn't know him well enough to debate about this. Plus she didn't really care that much. But she'd make sure to keep an eye out.

And finally, the last car arrived. Well, it was actually a van. It was one of those big ones that could fit an entire family in it at once. It went a little bit past 'van' and bordered on 'bus'. Out of the driver's seat stepped a blonde woman, presumably Finian's mother because her features looked nearly exactly like his. Even from far away you would be able to tell that they were related. She went to the back of the car to get Fin's wheelchair, then brought it back around to the passenger's side door and helped him into it. She asked him something, and he replied quickly, but the people in the gazebo couldn't quite hear what they were saying.

Fin said goodbye to his mother and made his way to where the group was sitting. He smiled when he saw how many people were there. "Wow, if I knew I was coming to a party then I would've brought a punch bowl and something to spike it with. Hope I'm not the last one here." He circled around to the other side of the gazebo to use the ramp, then positioned himself at the end of the table and turned on the brakes of his wheelchair.

"Welcome to our little gathering, Finian." Scarlett waved. "This is Cat, Zila, Auri, Kal, and Saedii. Everyone, this is Fin."

"Your hair is so light! It would probably be really easy to dye, have you ever done it before?" Auri asked.

Fin shrugged. "I dyed it black once in 7th grade. Like, fully black, no colors or anything. That was my emo phase."

"Sounds like it could've worked." Cat leaned forward and rested her arms on the table.

"You know, you'd think that it would because my eyes are so dark, but it didn't. I just looked like a vampire. And not even in the hot-and-mysterious way." Fin shook his head. "My cousin dyes his hair black, and it doesn't look very good on him either, but I'd never say that to his face."

"I let these two dye my hair one time." Tyler gestured to Cat and Scarlett. "I had blue streaks in my hair for about a month, but they turned green after a few washes. It took forever to get all the dye out."

"Shampoos that contain sulfates cause hair color to fade." Zila muttered. "That is why color preserving shampoos work, because they don't contain sulfates."

"Huh. I didn't know that." Tyler's brows drew together in thought. "Interesting."

"What, are you planning on dyeing your hair again, Goldenboy?" Fin smirked.

"Never. I'm good." Tyler smiled and held up his hands.

Scarlett bumped shoulders with her brother. "I think that one of us dyeing our hair regularly is enough."

"I don't dye my hair. I have heard that it can be very damaging." Kal offered his input.

"It can be." Zila nodded, speaking louder this time, though her voice was still monotonous. "Because the dye is meant to break down your original hair color, the chemicals in it will dry out the strands."

"Which is another reason why I don't dye my hair anymore." Fin clapped his hands once.

The conversation faded away. For a little while, they'd forgotten that they didn't know each other, and had just been talking like friends. But it had hit like a brick wall that they had been complete strangers up until about 15 minutes ago. Aurora was the first to speak up.

"Anyone want to play a game?" She suggested.

Cat considered the idea for a moment. "I'm down. What were you thinking?"

"We could play truth or dare, except minus the dare part. Basically just asking each other questions, and we have to answer honestly. I'll ask the first question, if that's okay with everyone?" Aurora asked. No one protested, so she continued. "Hm… Fin. What's your favorite animal, and why?"

"I've gotta say that I don't have one. I haven't really thought about it much. But I'll tell you what my least favorite is." Fin made a wide gesture to the whole group. "Fish. My cousin, he's going to college to be a marine biologist. And he doesn't shut up about fish any chance he gets. Knows every single thing there is to know about fish. He could probably list off every single subcategory of fish like they were the damn periodic table song if you asked him to."

"Is this also the cousin who dyes his hair black?" Auri laughed.

"The very same!" Fin grinned. "But, we're officially off topic. Back to the questions. Goldenboy. If you could choose any superpower, what would it be?"

"Super strength." Tyler said as if he'd thought about it before. "It probably wouldn't be allowed in sports, but it would make a lot of other things easier."

"Plus then you wouldn't need to get up at 3 in the morning to do an entire workout routine before school." Scarlett teased.

"No, I'd still do that." Tyler smiled. "Now for a question… Zila?"

Zila looked up from whatever she'd been doing on her phone. "Hm?"

"How long do you think you'd last in a zombie apocalypse?"

"I think that I would die of natural causes in a zombie apocalypse. There is no way of knowing for sure, of course, because my survival would depend on variables such as the running speed of the zombies or how strong they were." Zila explained her thought process. "But in a scenario where they are slow, weak, and unintelligent, I would easily outsmart them."

"Slow, weak, and unintelligent… are we talking about zombies, or the people in my math class?" Cat smirked. That earned a laugh from the group.

The game lasted for a few more hours. They learned things about each other that they might not have thought about before. For example, they learned that Kal and Saedii had been to 63 countries, and after finding that out, Fin encouraged them to go to 6 more so the number would be perfect. They learned that Zila's favorite color was green. That Tyler had broken 10 bones in his lifetime. That Aurora was planning on joining the art club and the track team. That Scarlett had once accidentally downloaded a virus onto Ty's phone, causing him to need a new one. That Fin lived with both of his parents, 6 siblings, 2 aunts, 1 uncle, and 5 cousins, as well as next door to all of his grandparents, 4 uncles, 5 aunts, and 13 cousins. That Cat was already working on a few college applications. All in all, it had been a very interesting game, and before they knew it the sky was turning pink.

"I should probably get going." Fin squinted up at the sky. "My mom doesn't want me to be out past dark, and if I don't text her soon, she's going to come here on her own."

"That's a good idea. Scar and I should head home too." Tyler agreed. "Early to bed, early to rise, as they say."

"Well, if you two are leaving, the rest of us might as well disband too." Cat shrugged.

"How about we exchange numbers?" Aurora suggested, taking her phone out of her pocket. "I'd like to stay in touch with all of you."

Everyone else took out their own phones, and each took turns reading off their numbers. Tyler noticed that Kal's sister hadn't said anything.

"Saedii? Are you going to join the conversation?" He raised an eyebrow.

"No need." Saedii responded coldly, shaking her head. "Why would I need the numbers of my brother's friends?"

"Fine then. If that's really how you're going to think." Tyler waved his hand dismissively.

Aurora made a group chat with all of them in it and sent a quick 'hi', just so it would show up on the others' phones. After that, everyone went their separate ways. Cat and Zila started walking out of the park. Auri went to her bike, Kal and Saedii to their car. Finian texted his mom, then turned off the wheelchair brakes and went back to the parking lot. Scarlett and Tyler began the walk home.

"That went surprisingly well!" Scar said once they were out of earshot. "Usually it isn't the best idea to invite a bunch of people to hang out when they don't know each other, but they seemed to get along great for complete strangers."

"I don't really know if they can be considered strangers anymore, Scar." Tyler pointed out. "I'd even go as far as to say that we've made ourselves some new friends."

"I hope so. It gets so boring not having anyone to wave to in the halls." Scarlett stretched out the 'o' in 'boring'. And as dramatic as she was, Tyler had to admit that she was right.

"Yeah… I'm glad we met these guys."

The sun had set by the time they arrived back home. Adams greeted them when they came through the door, but there wasn't any small talk. Their days had been awfully draining. They figured it would be better to get to bed early, despite the fact that it was officially the weekend. Tyler went to bed early most days anyway, but this was especially rare for Scarlett.

They thought back on how crazy that day had been. First a new kid showed up, then Tyler got into a fight and went to the principal's office, then they'd made friends with a bunch of people they'd never met before. It was only the beginning of the school year. And as Tyler and Scarlett settled into bed in their own respective rooms, they both had the same thought on their minds.

This was going to be an interesting year, for better or for worse.

Taglist: @taco-taco-belle (Ask to be on the taglist!)

[shannygoatgruff]

Talk to Me

Stay Safe, Stay Home Writing Challenge - Prompt #16 (Call me if you need anything)

Genre: Romance

Pairing: Modern Ivar x OC

Warning: Language, sexual innuendo, insecurity

Rating: M

Chapter 1 || Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Sitting in Terminal 19, Ivar wasn’t sure how he was going to make it through this entire vacation without killing Hvitserk. 

From the car to their current spot, they argued, non-stop. First, Ivar didn’t want Hvitserk's with his leg braces through airport security. Then, they argued because Hvitserk wanted Ivar to use a wheelchair because it was faster. But, Ivar didn’t want to use a wheelchair; he could walk. He had his braces had brought both of his forearm crutches. It would take him a bit longer, but he could get to the terminal on his own. After calling Ivar a spoiled dick-wad, Hvitserk then insisted that they use the airport shuttle service to get to the terminal. He thought it was only fair since he was the one that had to lug around their carry-on bags. Ivar just called Hvitserk a lazy asshole as he listened to his brother curse at him as they walked to the terminal. 

As soon as they sat down Hvitserk wanted to get food. All Ivar did was ask why they didn’t stop on their way to the terminal? He was hungry, too, but now he was tired and needed to rest. This particular disagreement turned into an actual slap boxing match where Hvitserk got the last sucker punch in on Ivar’s bicep and ran away from where they were sitting.

Telling his older brother that he wished he'd get herpes, Ivar pulled out his vibrating phone. “Hallo, for Ivar.”

Just hearing his deep, yet gentle voice with that Norse accent, did something to her every time. She couldn’t tell Norweigan from Swedish from Icelandic from Dutch – it was all Scandinavian to her. The accent was just sexy as hell. “Hey.” Cash bit her lip, as she folded her legs under her on the floor at the Munich International Airport. “I made it to Munich. My next flight leaves in 2 hours.”  

“I’m sorry,” Ivar put his hand over his phone and spoke in Norweigan to Hvitserk before drawing back his fist in order to hit his brother if he didn’t get away from him. “Did you have a good flight?” He was relieved that she did. “I just made it to the airport. My flight is leaving in about 1 hour. It should take me about 2 hour, 20 minutes to reach Vienna.”   

“So, we’re going to see each other in a few hours, huh?” Cash could feel her stomach drop at the thought. Part of her wanted to go up to that ticket counter and change her return flight ticket. She wanted to hop on the first thing heading back to Baltimore. But another part of her, the part that wanted to see if this thing, whatever it was, could really be something.  

Ubbe is right. I have to tell her.  “Yeah, just a few hours. Do you know what time you want to meet tonight? Our hotels are just a few streets away.”  

“Um, I don’t have any idea how long it will take me to get through Customs when I get to Vienna.” She picked at the lent on her PINK sweatpants and thought. “Plus, I’ve been traveling overnight and haven’t slept at all. I’m exhausted – I may try to take a quick nap.”

“Okay.” Ivar was a little disappointed because he wanted to see her right away, but it at least bought him a little time. “But, you know if you sleep when you get in, you will never adjust to the local time. It is best to stay awake through it all. Besides, I make a really comfy pillow.” He held his breath for a second, trying to find the words to tell her about his condition. Instead, different words came tumbling out of his mouth, “I cannot wait to see your face.”

She chuckled nervously at that statement. Oh, that. Did he have to bring that up again? The last time they talked about exchanging photos, she ended up sending him a bunch of avatars. It wasn’t that she was afraid to show him what she looked like, but what if her mother was right and he ended up being some sort of homicidal maniac? She didn’t want to give him a photo to post on the wall of his creepy den of debauchery to jerk off to.  

What if he didn't like the things about her that she was already insecure about? She was short – only 5’3” and skinny. No matter what she tried, she couldn’t gain weight where it counted. She wasn’t sure what happened but the chests, hips, and butts that all of the women on her mother’s side of the family were blessed with, those genes skipped her completely. Her neck was too thin and it made her head look big. And though she loved her curly hair, it was big, too. Not that easily tamed curly hair that looked good on commercials, either. We’re talking totally unruly big curls on a short, skinny girl, with a big head, big curly hair. 

There were probably only like 3 black people in all of Norway, to begin with. What if Ivar didn’t appreciate all of her melanin? She was sure he knew she was black from her avatar, but they had never really talked about their races or ethnicities before. “I still don’t know what you look either. But, I think it makes meeting a complete stranger in a different country much more romantic when you don’t know who you’re looking for, don’t you?”

Over the last six months, he had been the one reluctantly to video chat with her. He was so afraid that she would see his braces or crutches. It was just better if they kept it to calls and messages. Plus, there was something really exciting about getting to know her and having her like him without the pity. God knows he had enough pity dates courtesy of his older brothers. “Not so much for me. I’m thinking, maybe we should exchange photos now.” He looked over his shoulder to make sure Hvitserk wasn’t nearby. “I want to look at you while I am on the plane.” 

This was only ever supposed to be an online friendship. All Cash did was reply to a comment he’d left on a YouTube vlog they both subscribed to. Somehow that turned into them emailing and chatting. Then that turned into texting and talking on the phone, and late nights and giggling in the dark. The next thing she knew, six months later, she was flying to Vienna to meet him. “Does it make sense that I’m nervous for you to see me?”

 “Why? I already think you are beautiful.” He said quietly.

Oh lord, I’m gonna fuck this boy.  She rubbed her brows and shook her head at the thought. Cash had tried so hard not to get caught up, but there was such sincerity in his voice. “Okay. I’m going to send you three pictures. No matter what you think, don’t say anything. That way, if I’m not your type, then there are no hard feelings. We can just have a great time and hang out as friends.”

“You know that is not going to happen. You are so much more than my friend." He hoped he could still be this smooth in person, "But, I’ll play along. I will send you some pictures too and you will not comment, either.”

“Okay, I’ll call you back in a few minutes. I have to look through my phone to find somewhere I don’t look crazy.”  

It took Ivar about 30 seconds to choose the pictures to send to her. Most of them were from the chest up or showed him sitting, so he was pretty confident that she wouldn't notice his affliction. He hit the send button and anxiously awaited her pictures in return.

When her phone pinged she closed her eyes. Did she want to open them?  Okay, he is not going to look like Eric Northman, so don’t be disappointed.  Why she had it in her mind that he was going to be some 6’6” blond vampire-Adonis like Alexander Skarsgård, was beyond her. 

But, didn’t all Scandinavian men have that look to them? Sexy, long, lanky, blonds, with sad blue eyes that were slightly darker around the sockets and looked like they moonlighted as vampires. That’s what secretly hoped that Ivar looked like. A sexy blond vampire – she could be Tara and he could Eric…Girl, get yourself together. This is not True Blood.  She shouldn’t have binge-watched the show on her flight.

When she opened her eyes, her breath caught in her throat. He didn’t look like Alexander Skarsgård, but this tasty morsel here… 

Wait, what was she thinking? The only thing she could think to do was forward the pictures to her bestie, Glenn, with the following message:

Biiiiitch...Call Catfish immediately!  This can’t be Ivar!!!!!

She didn’t care that it was 4am back home.  This was an emergency.

 As she waited for Glenn to respond, she found herself almost regretting having sent him real pictures of herself. Now he knew what she looked like. If he was catfishing her, he was going to have a field day. But, if he wasn’t, then he was going to be mighty disappointed.  

Their beauty ratios didn’t match. She had this theory on the attractiveness of couples and had broken them down into ratios of beauty: high:high; low:low; high:low; equally yoked. The only couples that could stand the test of time were those that were equally yoked. 

Two extremely beautiful people were destined to fail, (ie. Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt.) One would think that Nick & Priyanka Jonas would have taken the hint from their former beautiful couple predecessors. Cash gave them a good 10 years before they would crash and burn. They were just too pretty. Mirrors were destined to turn themselves inside out when they walked by. The world just wasn’t ready for all that sexy. 

On the flip side of that coin, two extremely unattractive people wouldn’t last long, either. Take her cousin Maq and his wife Crystal, for example. One day, they would both wake up and be sickened, because they would take a good look at one another and realize that might doom the world by having a baby. If they had a child with their collective genes, the planets might malign...stars might blink out of existence. It could be the end of the world as Cash knew it.

Then you had the high:low ratio couples. Those were the people where one person was really attractive and the other was, not so much…a la Jay-Z and Beyoncé. Yeah, they made cute kids, but Cash was sure one of them (and she was sure it wasn’t Beyoncé) probably always felt like the ugly duckling in that relationship.

If this was truly Ivar, they weren’t equally yoked. She wasn’t as jaw-droppingly sexy as he was. Granted, she thought she was pretty damn cute, but not like him. She wouldn’t put them on them Jay-Z: Beyoncé scale, but the scales of beauty were slightly tipped in his favor.  

What the fuck was she thinking? Here she had just flown to another continent to meet a guy she didn’t know from Adam, only to be set up by him pretending to be someone else. There was no way on God’s green earth that this sexy specimen of man was the guy she had been talking to for the last six months. If it was, he either had a girlfriend, 2 wives in 3 countries, 35 children, was a sadist, serial killer, drunk, drug addict, or he was on the run from Interpol, or all of the above. Cash’s life didn’t work that way.   

Men like him didn’t happen to her. Not without all the fine print. 

When Ivar’s phone chimed, he couldn’t hit the icon fast enough to see the photos Cash had sent him. He had wondered for so long what she looked like, no matter what it was she was going to be beautiful. He was sure of it. Even if Hvitserk liked to joke that she was probably looked like Floki in drag.

“What is that dumb look on your face?” Hvitserk handed Ivar his sandwich wrap and coffee, before sitting down to peel back the wrapper on his own food. He eyed his brother suspiciously when he shook his head.

Without making a sound, he snatched the phone out of the younger man’s hand and looked at the screen. “Wow…who is…Is this who you’re going to meet?” Hvitserk’s smile was huge and his chest swelled with pride for his little brother. “Well done,” his voice raising an octave in his approval. He couldn’t resist nudging Ivar with his elbow a few times. “You are finally gonna get laid,” he laughed, taking a big bite of his wrap ignoring the bits of lettuce falling on his lap.

Why was Hvitserk on this trip? More importantly, why couldn’t Ivar have been born an only child? There was no way he was going to get to know Cash better or get any alone time with her with him around. Ivar thought about killing him, but then he would have to explain it to his remaining brothers at home. “I have had sex before, Hvitserk.”

“Yeah, but if you haven’t done it in over 3 years, I think you go back to being a virgin,” Hvitserk responded with a mouth full of food. “I think I read that somewhere.” Hvitserk shook his wrap in Ivar’s direction, as he tried to recall the statistics.  

Hvitserk wasn’t going to go into what Ubbe had told him about Ivar’s ill-fated sex life. Ivar’s confession to Ubbe was supposed to be in confidence. But of course with Ubbe and Hvitserk being best friends, naturally, Ubbe shared their youngest brother’s woes, and then Hvitserk told Björn. So now they all knew about Ivar’s impotence.

Poor Ivar, they’d all thought. They all knew that when he tried to lose his virginity as a teenager, he was too nervous to "rise to the occasion". So, when the moment did finally happen, with his last girlfriend that they all lovingly (hated) referred to as, ‘that stuck up bitch’ Freydis, he was unable to reach a climax. And what did his ever so beautiful and loving (bitch) girlfriend, Freydis, do to try to help him in his situation? She stopped having sex with him, that’s what.  

Ivar had begged Ubbe to take him to the urologist, fearing that his disease was the cause of him not being able to sæd, or whatever the term was for it in English. But, the doctor told him that stress and anxiety were most likely the causes of his impotence and he needed to relax – maybe consider seeing a therapist. But, he wasn’t crazy – he didn’t need a shrink.  

What he needed was to get rid of his mounting case of blue balls that had him on edge 24/7.

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[mrsmunsons]

1, 4, 11, 12, 16, 18, 33, 34, 46, 50, 52, 77!

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? — Answering this one again so that I can say: when I was a kid, it was more milk than cereal, all the way. Why? Cereal milk. There was nothing better to me than finishing a bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats and then drinking the leftover milk.

4: how do you take your coffee/tea? — Cream and sugar (Equal, actually), for both. But sometimes there are conditions. I enjoy my tea the most when it has cream in it, but there are rare occasions when I’m not in the mood, so I’ll skip that part. When it comes to coffee, if it’s hot, I need it to have both cream and sugar, always. I’ll drink an iced from Dunkin’ without cream in it, especially if I get a swirl (which also means no sugar). Not always, though. If I make my own, then it gets both.

11: what's an inner joke you have with your friends? — “Do you want to hear a joke?” / “Jon Hamm’s face?” / “You ruined the whole punchline. I hate you.”

12: what's your favorite planet? — Pluto because leave it alone, you bullies.

16: what's your favorite pasta dish? — Pasta bolognese or farfalle with pesto and chicken.

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. — She doesn’t always bring it up, but @markcampbells still laughs at me for not remembering that the car dealership in One Tree Hill burned down, back when I was rewatching.

33: what's your fave pastry? — Almond cigars.

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? — When I was little, I had a stuffed Simba that I loved. I lost him in a way I don’t remember. I was gifted one from a doctor, years later. That one was given to my cousin, when she was a baby, without my consent; my grandma said it didn’t matter because I didn’t need him anymore. It’s been so many years that I doubt he’s still around now, but I like to think I’d still have him if he hadn’t been given away. I was happy to see her play with him, but I’m sad he got lost ... again.

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. — I actually Googled “bad puns” for this: So what if I don’t know what apocalypse means?? It’s not the end of the world!

50: what's an odd thing you collect? — I don’t actually collect anything. I used to keep old notes that Nicole wrote to me throughout high school (and she had mine stored somewhere, too) but that’s one of those things I lost in that move.

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? — Marriage Story fight; Baby Yoda in any form or fashion; “My plans | 2020.”; “I’m not sure who needs to hear this, but...”; “No one has this range”; The recent tweet where someone asked “how funny is this guy?” in reference to four different paparazzi photos of de Armas laughing with Affleck. That one’s not a meme, but it could be. Not because it’s them, but because... relatable.

77: pink or yellow lemonade? — PINK.

[jumnthepurestbean]

Aahdfl your posts are super cute!!! Can I request the RFA+Saeran/V/Vanderwood (if you can) meeting MC's very big and equally overwhelmingly loving family because I need family fluff in my life and some of these people need in-laws to adopt them

asdfksdjflsd when I saw this ask I literally had to get out of bed and go get my lap top to answer it. I’ve been coming back to this ask all day, so it’s really long but I love it. Thank you so, so much for this idea!

RFA+Saeran+V+Vanderwood x MC with Large Loving Family

Jumin

Okay so Jumin Han is already such a family man

He’s the dad of the RFA

So when he discovers that MC has such a large family is pleasantly surprised.

Now that MC is in is life, he considers MC’s family his family.

He’s excited at the prospect of having so many people that matter to MC

He first meets MC’s parents and is expects them to like him (who wouldn’t want their child to marry someone like Jumin Han?) but he didn’t expect them to love him so much.

Immediately they’re so loving. “Jumin we’ve heard so much about you! We’re so excited to finally meet you!” and they’re inviting him to family outings.

Which he wants nothing more. Even if it’s MC’s second cousin’s soccer game DANG IT HE WILL TAKE OFF WORK TO GO SEE THAT!

The first time he meets everyone is probably at one of MC’s family reunions

He’s never felt like he comes into a place and is immediately accepted.

People are genuinely interested on what he has to say

Let me just say that Jumin loves his father and no one could ever replace Chairman Han

They understand each other on a different level and Chairman Han has provided him nothing but unconditional love

But damn it’s nice to have some normal family love.He will get to know every person in MC’s family.

He has a calendar for their birthdays, special events and anything else he plans to attend

Yoosung

Okay so at first Yoosung is nervous

Meeting his girlfriend’s parents is another thing but she has a lot of siblings???

Deep concern

MC’s father invites Yoosung to dinner so they can meet.

NERVOUSNESS INTENSIFIES

But when he walks in the door he hears “IT’S YOOSUNG!”

A bunch of little kids of various ages come running in and look at him.He blinks as he’s getting all the attention and is pulled into the house by them.

MC is the oldest sibling so her bringing over a boyfriend who wants to be a vet and likes playing video games is so cool

This really boosts up his confidence

Plus he’s not the shortest person! Yay!

He meets MC’s father who has a toddler on his hip but smiles kindly to Yoosung

It becomes very obvious that a mother is not in the picture.While MC and Yoosung are alone doing the dishes (Yoosung insisted! Despite the fact that he rarely does his own dishes but shhhhh)

He wants to ask and MC can tell

“My mom passed away a few years ago.”

Yoosung nearly dropped his plate he was cleaning “MC I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Yoosung. It hurts but I still have everyone. And you.”Yoosung keeps it together and kisses MC’s forehead

But when he gets back to his apartment HE CALLS HIS MOM AND TELLS HER HOW MUCH HE LOVES HER DANG IT

Zen

“Zenny, how many tickets could you get me for your next show?”

Zen lazily puts his arm around MC “Probably 3 or 4. Why?”

“My parents really want to come to your next show and I think it would be a good way to meet you.”

Zen raises an eyebrow, “Oh really? I’ll see what I can do.”

Zen is pretending to be super calm and chill but oh god this makes him nervous as all hell.

He’s going to have to perform knowing that MC’s parents are in the audience.

No pressure...

The night comes out and he tries to peek around the curtain to see if he can see MC or her parents but with no luck.

He calms himself down but looking at picture of MC on his phone. He is going to be as amazing as he always is.

He of course performs wonderfully

When he goes for the curtain call he hears a lot more applause. Which isn’t too strange because he has many fans that love his performances but this seems more eager.

When he finishes and goes to the lobby to find MC he find her parents with flowers.

They then go on about how amazing he was in the performance. They’re so excited he can barely get a word in. There’s so much praise he starts blushing.What on earth was nervous about???

They go out to dinner and after MC’s parents calmed down (”Mom, dad! Please let Zen say something”) he realizes how great they are.

Also MC has a bunch of siblings? He’s going to have invite them all to his next performance.

After the night dies down and MC and Zen are cuddled up in the bed he thinks about the events of the night.

“Hyun, why are you crying?”

Zen blinks and wipes at his face. He gives a shrug and smiles. “I’m just happy.”

Jaehee

K so I actually have an OC that I’ve been wanting to match with Jaehee specifically because she has a giant family and let’s be real that’s what Jaehee needs.

So this response is based a bit off what I imagine Jaehee and my OC’s relationship.

The first time she is introduced to MC’s family she is pretty stiff and very formal

MC’s parents try to get her out of her shell and be the woman that MC has told them so much about but Jaehee just isn’t having any of it.MC knows what happened to Jaehee’s family and all the hurt she’s suffered.

“How about I invite my parents to the cafe?”

“The cafe??”

“Yeah, it’ll be fun. Especially if my brothers and sisters come. They’re kids, they love sweets.”

It takes some convincing but Jaehee finally decides that it would be a good idea.

They pick a day that’s slow so Jaehee and MC can have time socialize without ignoring any regular costumers.

Jaehee is still working on the sweets when MC’s family comes in. She knew that MC had a lot of siblings but it was starting to get a little overwhelming.

MC gently puts a hand on Jaehee’s shoulder and introduces her to her siblings.

They all excitedly watch her finish up the sweets which puts pressure on her.But once she gets into the groove of making her sweets, she starts to relax a little.

Her anxiety spikes when she actually has to give them

But once she sees that they love them, it makes her relax so much more.

She may tear up a little when MC’s parents say how proud they are of her for following her dreams and creating such a successful business

But the true turning point where Jaehee finally lets herself be herself with MC’s family is around Christmas time.

Each year MC’s family get dressed in horrible Christmas sweaters and take a family photo. Jaehee goes over to Christmas but is fully prepare to watch on the sidelines until she receives an ugly sweater and is in the picture.

Ahhh my heart

Seven

Tries to avoid meeting MC’s family

He knew because of his research that she had a large family

And he already didn’t want to bring MC into this life of danger

So now bringing so many people into his life was really hard for him

MC finally explains to him the part he didn’t know about her life.Her parents are actually her foster parents

She talks about how she bounced around from foster home to foster home. Always getting in trouble and being so angry at the world for the cards she was delt

But then she landed with her foster family. They worked with her and gave her the love that she needed

That gets him to agree to at least meet her parents.

Once meeting them he can understand how they could have done what they did for MC

They’re so kind and patient.

At first Seven is trying to be his old jokey self as a defense mechanism

They’re not annoyed or anything they’re just patient with him

In the end he’s so happy that MC had this life

And maybe he could have that life too

Saeran

Nervous wreck

Does everything he can to avoid meeting MC’s family.

He really worries that he’s not good enough for MC

So MC starts out with baby steps...or in the case toddler steps!

She first introduces Saeran to one of her younger siblings

At first he’s still nervous but he handles being around children a little bit easier

They walk around Saeran’s garden to make him even more comfortable.

At some point MC’s sibling toddles up to him and offers him a flower they plucked out of the earth.

It still has roots and is dirty but it’s one of the best gifts he’s ever received.

Bends down and thanks them and then explains to the toddler what the flower means.

The toddler doesn’t understand but that’s okay.

Slowly Saeran works up the courage to finally meet MC’s parents.

MC asks if he wants to them in the garden but he says no he’s going to meet them for dinner.He works very hard to prepare dinner with MC (she helped him learned some cooking skills and he’s gotten pretty good!)

He’s still a nervous wreck and nearly has panic attacks on multiple occasions but knows that this will make MC happy so he’s going to do it.

MC had told her parents a little bit about Saeran and they know to be very patient with him

Not they aren’t already but they just know a little bit as to what to expect.

He’s quiet at first but eventually he starts to open them up.After a really long time of healing Saeran is so grateful to have MC’s parents and siblings in general.

V

V agrees to meet MC’s parents but like Jaehee he is very formal and almost stiff

He’s not rude or anything but it’s clear he’s keeping his distance

This is due to a variety of reasons

First, MC’s parents’s opinion of him is very important. He does not want to mess that up and he honestly wouldn’t know what to do if they had a negative opinion of him. So there’s that.

Plus, he still struggles with opening up to people.He is getting better at that and not keeping all his secrets to himself but MC’s family is not someone he wants to make a bad impression on.This goes on for a while of V being pleasant but keeping a distance

That is until the idea of MC’s parents going to one of his photo galleries

He agrees but is unsure internally

When MC’s parents see his photos they are absolutely blown away. Their positive reaction makes V open up just a bit more.It is clear to MC’s family that V has a lot of his own baggage.

At one point, when MC’s mother is able to have a moment alone with her she asks. “Do you worry about hurting people?”

V is taken aback by the question. He thinks about it for a moment and then nods. “Yes.”

“Jihyun, do you know what I think hurts people more than sharing burdens?”

V shook his head.

“Knowing that someone you love has a burden but they feel like they can’t share it with you.”

K.O.

He may not ever tell his secrets to MC’s family (and that’s okay with them) but he does let his own personality shine through and eventually creates a great relationship with MC and her family.

Vanderwood

At first is completely against meeting MC’s parents.

He is still use to the agency rules of not having a family

He barely wanted to bring MC into all of it, let alone her family

Too many risks

“Vanderwood, you aren’t in the agency anymore. You can have a new life.”

But after a long time he finally decides to go to their house for dinnerIs shook when he sees how many siblings MC has

How does MC keep track of them all???

But amazingly the house is so clean.

How the heck is Seven so dirty but there’s a dozen people in this house and it’s spotless???

Immediately the kiddos want to play with Vanderwood’s cape/jacket/thing

“Whoa that’s such a cool pattern!” “I want one!” “Can I try it on???”

“Um...okay?” He puts it on one and it’s so big.

When MC’s parents come out they burst out laughing see the young child wander around in the oversize article of clothing

After an evening at MC’s place he realizes how much he missed these types of connections.

He really enjoys himself.

On the way back, Vanderwood quietly takes MC’s hand. “Maybe...maybe I could get Seven to find my family.”

MC squeezes his hand back. “I think that’s a great idea.

If you’re feeling generous then go over to my ko-fi!