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forasecondtherewedwon · 2 years

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and therefore is winged cupid flying blind - ch. 6

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick Pairing: Natasha “Phoenix” Trace/Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw Rating: E Chapter Count: 6/?

read ch. 1 one / 2 two / 3 three / 4 four / 5 five

Chapter summary: Bradley’s response feels to Natasha as though he retreated into himself a little bit, but less than what’s typical for him. And she can’t deny his words are some of the ones she’s been needing to hear.

day 6

“Well, if they ever open up an academy for teaching aviators to be total assholes, you can be the lead instructor!” Natasha shouts across the room. She turns away, trying to breathe deeper and calm down.

“What I should be is a ballroom judge,” Hangman spits back. “All the time I’ve spent watching you and Bradshaw dance around each other.”

Enraged, Natasha twists back towards him. She strides up to him and jabs a finger into his khaki shirt.

“Don’t try to be funny.”

“Phoenix, I am funny. You’re losing your sense of humour being around Bob so much. It’s like he just sucks it out of you. Speaking of—"

“No!” She lifts her hands in a gesture of forbiddance, but the sight of her own open palm makes her want to slap Jake so badly that she has to clasp her hands behind her back instead. “How could you say that to him?” she demands.

“He needed the wake-up call.”

Natasha’s face tenses.

“You really are a sonofabitch, just like Bradley said. You don’t talk about somebody’s dead father like that. That was so far off-limits that I can’t even…” She has to walk away, put some space between them in the empty classroom.

Jake shrugs when she glances back.

“I was actually leaning towards not saying anything, but then you were a humongous bitch to me at the Hard Deck last night.”

“Oh, so this was supposed to be retaliation because I didn’t have the patience for your matchmaking? You’re blaming me for your decision to provoke Bradley in front of everybody?” Natasha laughs humourlessly. “Grow the fuck up, Bagman.”

“It was a calculated measure.”

“It was a dick move,” she corrects.

“What if me using the ghost of Bradshaw’s dad to scare him actually saves him?” Jake argues, crossing his arms. “Can’t die on the mission if you don’t fly on the mission.”

“It is not your job to determine whether or not Bradley flies,” Natasha says, remembering what Bradley told her about Mav pulling his papers. He deserves a little control over his own fucking life. “You have no right to do that to him.”

“I don’t want him dead. You do understand that.” He says it too firmly, too angrily, for it to lift into a question. “He thinks he can take his sweet time up there, but he can’t. He will get people killed. Himself included. He has to remember this isn’t a pleasure cruise. The stakes are high, Phoenix. They’re so fuckin’ high.”

Jake sighs and drops his arms, looking at her, waiting for her to argue.

“You shouldn’t have done it,” is all she says, and leaves.

—

She spends ten minutes pacing outside of Bradley’s quarters before he opens the door. She freezes and looks at him, dressed down in a t-shirt and jean shorts for the informal instruction Mav told them to report for on the beach—whatever that means.

“I just told Hangman he could get a job teaching people how to be assholes,” she says. “And then he called me a bitch. Still think this is a smokescreen for secretly wanting to fuck?”

Bradley blinks.

“Hello to you too.” He steps out of his quarters, shutting the door behind him, and they start down the corridor together. “Wait, he called you a bitch?”

Natasha watches Bradley’s jaw clench.

“Yeah,” she confirms. “And you’re not going to do anything about it. Don’t go all protective on me, Bradshaw.”

He laughs and she doesn’t think he could’ve done anything more surprising in that moment.

“What,” he says, “like cornering Jake and yelling at him on your behalf like you just did for me?”

“I didn’t say I yelled.”

“So you didn’t yell?”

She presses her lips together and he looks at her, laughing again.

“I woulda done the same thing for you,” he says. “You know that, right?”

Simple question for what would have to be a complicated answer. Natasha knows Bradley has her back, especially here at Testosterone Central, but the way he asks… He’s prompting her to acknowledge that his devotion to her should be accepted without question, like it’s obvious. Too many of their understandings are unspoken. There are holes, gaps in her experience of his ability to be there for her. He’s usually there when she needs him to be—flying a tight two-jet formation that never fails or fighting back-to-back on the ground in a more figurative sense, taking on threats to her career or his face when he pisses off the wrong guy at the nearest bar to wherever they’re stationed—not when she wants him to be.

But this is a work thing, so Natasha nods.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Good,” he says.

And he does seem good with her answer, good with their talk, good with life. This is the same guy who completely lost it this morning and advanced on Hangman like he was actually about to kick his ass in front of a roomful of candidates and a TOPGUN instructor. She’s tempted not to fuck with Bradley’s good mood; the trouble is, the last time she told herself she was letting him have his moment of calm, she blew up from the stress of supressing everything she was trying to save him from having to deal with. Natasha realizes she might resent him a little bit less if she stopped acting like the goddamn bodyguard he never asked for. Better own up to the latest thing she attempted to protect him from.

“I should’ve told you something yesterday,” she says as they step outside and make their way to Bradley’s car.

“What’s that?”

Natasha halts. She grabs his forearm to stop him too. Bradley’s slipped his sunglasses on and she reaches up to remove them, tucking the leg into the front of her athletic top. They hang against her chest for safekeeping.

“I should’ve told you it was coming.” He’s already squinting from the sun, but she notices his eyes narrow further in confusion. Natasha takes a breath and pushes through. “I knew Bagman was looking into your dad.”

“You did, huh?”

“No details,” she assures him, “but I still should have warned you. You could’ve had time to consider what you wanted to do and then dealt with it your own way, and then maybe this morning wouldn’t have happened.”

“Phoenix,” Bradley says firmly. His gaze slides slowly from her right eye to her left, taking her in—no, inviting her in. “Wherever I was when I found out, I would’ve hunted Jake down and beat the shit out of him. I wouldn’t have paused for self-reflection or whatever. Maybe it’s a good thing he said what he said in front of a bunch of people who’d hold me back.”

“That’s a terrible thought.”

“What is?”

“That Jake might’ve planned his attack that way so you wouldn’t be thrown out.”

“Or he was just trying to get through the next two weeks without a broken nose,” he proposes as they start walking again.

“I’m comfortable with that theory,” Natasha agrees.

They get as far as his parking space before he stops her.

“Thank you,” he says.

“For not interfering?” she guesses.

“For yelling at Jake. I appreciate you standing up for me.”

“I know you can handle yourself,” Natasha says with a smile, pre-empting what she assumes Bradley would’ve said next.

But he disagrees.

“Not always. Sometimes… sometimes I need…” He takes a breath and visibly gathers himself. “You’re a good person to have in my corner,” he settles on.

Bradley’s response feels to Natasha as though he retreated into himself a little bit, but less than what’s typical for him. And she can’t deny his words are some of the ones she’s been needing to hear. She looks at him carefully, scared he’ll spook.

“Like you said,” she reminds him, “you’d do the same for me.”

He wanders around to the passenger side with her and pulls the door open.

“I can open my own doors though,” Natasha points out.

“I know,” he says with a grin, “but I love how annoyed you get when I do it for you.”

—

The “informal instruction” on the beach is Mav’s invented sport of dogfight football. Natasha couldn’t be happier.

Since her conversation with Bradley (and her louder, similarly cathartic conversation with Jake before that), she feels much more at ease. Probably the most relaxed she’s felt since arriving on North Island. It seems like it might be the same for Bradley. She laughs and she sweats and he flirts with her in between plays. It probably looks like they’re talking strategy because he angles his mouth to her ear and points randomly at players on the other team while he murmurs reminiscences of making out with her at the bar last night and offers to reapply sunscreen to her cleavage now that she’s down to her sports bra.

Natasha never has to consider how to feel about the rest of the candidates discussing their little show at the Hard Deck; apparently, the real story of the night was Halo and Payback leaving together with no subtlety at all. They aren’t shy about people knowing either. They might be playing on opposite teams today, but Payback still gives Halo’s ass a congratulatory slap after she intercepts the ball, and Halo’s bright and cheerful when she talks to Natasha, praising the mattress at the hotel she and Payback snuck off to. The way they can’t stop smiling at one another (or keep their hands to themselves) is disgusting and adorable and would make Natasha incredibly envious if things between herself and Bradley weren’t taking a definite turn for the better.

When everyone quits keeping score, she pretends she has too. When they finally call it a day, she whispers the final score to Bradley and they share a competitive grin over being on the winning team.

At the base, she impulsively spurns his bashful goodbye—his face burnt red on top of his tan, beads of sweat still rolling down his throat into the front of the t-shirt he tossed back on to have something between his damp skin and his driver’s seat—and tugs him into the women’s showers by the beltloops of his jean shorts.

“You sure nobody’s going to come in?” he checks, sounding no more than faintly concerned.

“Haven’t you noticed how many fewer women there are on this base than men?” Natasha asks wryly. “And do you think they’re going to want to shower now, when most people not on-shift will be eating dinner?”

“Guess not.”

Natasha grabs the shower kit from her locker. She strips off the clothes plastered to her hot skin, which is sufficient action to tempt an increasingly tongue-tied Bradley under the spray.

She presses his back to the tile wall as they kiss, the cool water of the shower streaming down her spine. Though he holds her loosely by the hips, his dick is not so casual, stiff against her stomach and twitching when she clasps his face between her hands. Her fingers trace delicately over the back of his ears and down the sides of his neck and Bradley shivers. When Natasha pulls his bottom lip between her teeth, the kiss turns hungry and sloppy, his hands on her ass, hers wrapped around his cock where it strains between them. He starts to pant and she strokes faster.

“Mercy,” he pleads, and she draws her face back with a grin plastered on it. She doesn’t stop jerking her hand up and down his length until Bradley tilts his head back against the wall, tiny rivers trickling down his chest, and begs, “Mercy, mercy.”

She releases him, skimming her hand up to rest against his abs instead. The shower is slicking her hair flat against her back and, when Bradley suddenly switches their positions, it slaps the tiles.

“Watch yourself, Phoenix,” he advises with a cocky smile. Her eyes slip closed as his hand squeezes her thigh and smooths upward, against the flow of the water.

“What are you doing, Bradshaw?” Eyes still shut, she’s smiling too, certain she already knows the answer to her question.

“Finishing what I started the other day.”

“Oh yeah?”

His hand wedges between her legs and Natasha steps her feet apart, parting her thighs.

“It’s the first chance you’ve given me,” Bradley points out. She opens her eyes in time to watch him bow his head to kiss her upper chest. Two of his fingers make a teasing pass at her, then a firmer one, finding her wet—with arousal, not San Diego tap water.

“We have things to figure out. Seemed like it’d be easier to do without adding sex.”

“Oh, is the sex a problem for you?” he teases, removing his hand from between her thighs.

“The sex makes everything else feel…” Her breath hitches when his fingers return, playing with her clit. “…less urgent.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing.”

Bradley hunches further, kissing all over her breasts. His mustache rubs roughly across her nipple and her back arches. Bradley teases her for a minute before taking her nipple into his mouth. She grasps the back of his neck, trying to keep as good a grasp on the conversation.

“But, you and me,” Natasha argues. “We’re more than just sex.”

Bradley says, “Sure,” switching breasts.

“Then how come,” she pants, “in the periods when we’re not having sex, I feel completely alone?”

He raises his head.

“You do?”

“Yeah,” she says. She flexes her fingers on his neck and his mouth returns to her breast, sucking a hickey below her nipple. “I used to be fine with how we are, how casual it is, but I… I…”

Natasha loses her thought and her breath as Bradley quits toying with her clit and plunges two fingers inside her. She moans, forcing her hips down hard onto his hand. She can feel her pulse thumping, her muscles flickering around his big fingers.

“What were you saying?” he asks facetiously, straightening up and plucking her nipple between his fingers instead of his teeth.

“You are being a real, genuine asshole right now,” she gasps as he hooks his fingers inside of her.

“Better than a phony one.”

“I was making a point. I was really…” His thumb lands on her clit and now he’s working her from the inside and outside at the same time, forcing her to pause in order to release a moan. “I was really making a point.”

“Me too.”

“What’s yours?”

“That the sex is good,” Bradley says in a low voice, leaning close and kissing her neck. “And that you shouldn’t feel lonely.”

“Sex isn’t a substitute for everything else.”

“But why feel that when you can just feel this?”

His fingers stroke her harder and, when goosebumps spring up across her skin, he warms up the water temperature. He just does what she needs him to do sometimes. He knows what she needs possibly more often than he lets on. If her head were a little clearer, Natasha would pry more into his avoidance, but he’d probably avoid that intrusion.

“You’re wrong,” she says with a smile, “it’s just hard to argue with you right now.”

“Thanks for the opportunity to win by default.”

Bradley smiles down at her and Natasha gives in. Cradling his jaw, she kisses him until her lips are too unfocused to contribute much, his fingers pressing into her while his thumb manipulates her clit wildly. The noise is graphic: the wiggle of his hand against her, the water that gets splashed into the tile. When her wet hair slides into her open mouth as she cries out in climax, he drags it out again. When her legs get wobbly, he holds her up. Why don’t they acknowledge that? Why can’t she list off these pieces of evidence to make the case that he cares about her—beyond sex, beyond synchronized leaves?

“Why are you bringing that stuff up now?” Bradley asks quietly, kissing the side of her face softly while he embraces her.

“Because I’m brave right now,” Natasha says. As soon as she’s feeling steadier, she pushes him back so they can trade places again.

“You’re always brave,” he points out as she kneels under the spray. His flushed dick jerks in anticipation.

She smiles.

“No, I’m not. You just block out the moments when I need you with one of your blind spots and pretend they don’t exist.”

With that said, she grips the base of his cock in one hand and his thigh in the other, closing her mouth around the head. If he had something to say back to her, now he knows how it feels to have his train of thought interrupted. If he had nothing to say, well, she’d rather listen to his groans than another disappointing silence.

Natasha increases her pace steadily, fist twisting in long strokes that chase her mouth up on the withdrawals. About a minute in, Bradley guides her head forward. At first, it seems like a cue to take him deeper, but then she realizes he’s trying to get her hair out from under the water as he squeezes shampoo onto the top of her head. She stops sucking him off for a second, stunned, and he just groans, thrusting shallowly into her slack mouth. His fingers glide into her hair, massaging her scalp as the scent of her shampoo blooms in the humid air of the shower.

Is this a reaction to her accusation that he intentionally ignores her feelings? Is he still scared someone’s going to walk in if they take too long? Is it purely practical, saving time by getting two things done at once?

The hard floor is a bitch on her knees and she’s happy to be pulled insistently to her feet when Bradley gets close to finishing. He starts to jerk himself off, but Natasha takes over and he rests his head against the wall, watching her through lowered eyelids, his stare weightier and needier than he probably realizes. When he comes, it’s mainly up his stomach. His eyes clamp shut and his eyebrows draw together, but he only looks frustrated, not vulnerable. Up until that moment, they were in it together, but the second bliss took over, he edged Natasha out.

She steps back and rinses her hair, lifting the strands so the water can get at all the places he rubbed the shampoo in so thoroughly. She and Bradley stare at each other, him breathing heavily until he takes a last deep breath that ends in an almost-sigh. Even if he wants to run, he stays—maybe it means something, maybe he’s just tired from football. His lower lashes look beautiful, dark and wet and all stuck together. Natasha grabs her soap and washes him clean.

#my writing #Top Gun: Maverick #atiwcfb #Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace #Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw #Rooster x Phoenix #Phoenix Trace #Rooster Bradshaw #Natasha Trace #Bradley Bradshaw #Top Gun: Maverick spoilers #Top Gun: Maverick fanfiction #Top Gun

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peralta-guaranteed · 3 years

Note

"I need a haircut."

(please imagine, at all times during this ficlet, for Jake to look exactly like he does in this gif-set: https://b99reblogstuff.tumblr.com/post/658958672466149376/andrewsambags-andrew-samberg-as-cuckoo . Just an incredibly hot, dishevelled little mess of a goofball.

Also, this is just some extremely saccharine parent-peraltiago fluff. Pure sugar. No storyline whatsoever 🤣)

Waking up to sunshine and the usual Brooklyn noises of the morning feels weird. Off. Like something wrong.

Jake quickly realises why.

Because he’s pretty sure he hasn’t been woken up by anything but little wails, screams or general upset snuffling from the baby monitor on his bedside table in about one and a half months. Usually when it’s still dark outside, or barely just beginning to lighten up to a new day.

So to find nothing but radio silence from the little beige and babyblue box next to him is a bit disconcerting, to say the least, until he actually hears something through it - a soft little song, in a language he’s only barely started to understand, but from a voice he knows better than anything else in the world.

He sits up still groggy from the deepest sleep he’s probably had for well over one and a half months, checking the bed next to him to find it empty and give him the last context clue he needs as to why he was allowed to blissfully sleep in for once. He doesn’t know how she’s done it - he put the baby monitor on his side for a reason, so she wouldn’t have to face night calls and morning calls by herself - but Amy has managed to steal out of the bedroom and into the nursery without waking him, and even before Mac could wake either of them up.

That’s where he finds her now, at least, snuggled into the rocking chair that her abuela Claudia got for them out of her attic, the most perfect little baby cradled in her arms and happily feeding while she continues her song - not really a lullaby, but just as calm and melodious as the ones he’s been learning from her to improve his Spanish.

“Hey.” He whispers, stunned into almost silence for a moment by the little tableau before him, while he steps up to press a good morning kiss to Amy’s lips, and then one onto Mac’s soft little curls.

“Hey.” She replies with a smile. “Did you sleep well?”

“I wanna say ‘like a baby’ but we both know now that saying is a big fat lie.”

Mac snuffles with his one free arm waving around, as if he understood that little slight and wants to complain about it.

“Why did you sneak out? I woulda brought him in like always.”

It’s become their own little morning routine - Jake is out of bed faster than Amy once they hear the protests from the baby monitor start, on account of not being the one who’s still healing from giving birth and dealing with sore boobs and sore anything, really. So he’s usually the one to tiptoe into the nursery and lift Mac out of his cot, checking which end of their son needs care - diaper changes he can do alone, but hungry baby mouths can only be calmed down when they get to settle into Mama’s arms back in their bedroom. It would be a sweet little moment between the three, Jake snuggling back under the covers to relax for a moment more while listening to the little snuffles and grunts as Mac feeds, if it weren’t for the ungodly hours the little one insists upon this whole scene happening.

“You had a long week.” Amy explains, and she’s right - he’s not been back at work for long, and the last five days have felt like the most slammed at the precinct for a while. “You could use the extra rest.”

“True.” He won’t even try to argue, electing instead to squad down next to the rocking chair so he can lean his head onto Amy’s shoulder opposite Mac.

“You could also use a shower.”

“Wow, thanks, Ames. Way to ruin the moment.”

“I’m just saying.” She laughs, but not too much in fear of jostling Mac. “I probably need one too. We’ve fallen a bit to the wayside in terms of selfcare.”

Jake thinks of the state of their laundry hamper, the spitup stains he knows are currently covering the shoulder of his sleep shirt, and the greasy (but still perfect) messy bun on Amy’s head that she wouldn’t be caught dead with outside of the apartment. It’s hard not to agree with her there.

“Tell you what: you take an hour to yourself right now, and then we switch and I get my hour while you take over with Mac. He shouldn’t be hungry again so soon.”

He’s up faster than he expected, pressing a kiss to the top of her head despite the greasy hair.

“I married a genius. Love you, Ames.”

-*-

Showering feels good. That is not a surprising revelation at all, but it’s definitely something he kind of forgot about.

Not that he didn’t shower for the past few months, of course. But there is a stark difference between a quick clean-up shower and just standing under the hot water spray, music in his ears from the little shower speaker they got, letting the heat relax every inch of him until he feels like he could melt into the bathtub and down the drain.

He’s sure he must’ve used up almost his entire hour just standing in there, until he steps out to check his phone before wiping the fogged up mirror clean. It’s only been 15 minutes, he realises as he turns the music down a bit and studies his reflection while toweling himself off.

The bags under his eyes are to be expected as a new parent, but the rest of him looks more like he’s been living on the street instead of a nice apartment that’s ocassionally filled with tiny screams to keep him on his feet. His beard’s the longest it has been since prison - which isn’t much, but still enough to no longer qualify as simply a 5 o’clock shadow and definitely veering into the category of ‘scruff’, and his hair...

He sifts a hand through the long strands - he can feel water drip off of them onto his back, which isn’t a thing he’s known since high school and that dreadful Rachel-cut he sported back then. And after towelling them dry, the curls still fall into his face, and he wonders how he hasn’t noticed that annoying thing in front of his eyes while at work. It’s definitely bothering him now that he’s noticed, while he’s getting actually fresh, clean clothes from their dresser and constantly needs to brush it out of his face.

After which, he stands in the bedroom just... staring around. He’s made the bed already - a new kind of reflex thing Amy has trained into him long ago - and cleaned up most of the laundry that was strewn around the place, including all the muslins and baby blankets, started the first load of it all that is slowly tumbling away a room over. And finds he has nothing to do.

He could read a book, maybe. Dust off the Switch and see if Wario is still a cheating bastard. Just laze around on his phone for a while. He’s still got about 20 minutes left of his hour, after all.

Except he hears the Latin radio station through the half-closed door, and he knows that means Amy has moved on to the kitchen and is probably making coffee while Mac hangs out in his playpen in the living room under his turtle mobile.

And there’s really nothing else he wants to do but join them.

So his arms wrap around Amy’s waist only a minute later at the kitchen counter, suspiciously pouring two cups of coffee already as if she was expecting him.

“Hey.” He can feel her grin as his cheek presses against hers. “Enjoyed your shower?”

“Yeah. And discovered that Alone Time is not nearly as great as promised.”

She huffs a little laugh as she leans back, burying her nose into the long hair next to his temple.

“You smell so nice and fresh though. Worth it.”

“Mmh.” He hums while she sips on her coffee and enjoys a little kiss or two to her neck. “Also discovered I need a haircut like, two weeks ago.”

“Aww.” She turns in his arms after putting the cup down. “But the Scruffy Daddy looks so good on you.”

“You got a name for it already?!”

“Charles coined it.” She admits with a bashful look. “But I have to agree with him.” Her hands scrape across his stubble in a tingling way that has him smirking. “I like this a lot more than your prison beard.”

He answers her with a soft kiss, during which her hands move up to his hair, now towel- and air-dryed into perfect wavy curls.

“And I’m so glad Mac’s got your curls already. I was hoping he would.”

He feels a short tug at the back of them, before her hands pull him down for a longer kiss.

“You’re really digging this.” He grins while her hands continue to sift through his hair, separating some curls and wrapping them around her fingers.

“I might have been checking you out.” She winks. “The Scruffy Daddy works especially well with an actual baby on your arm, by the way. Or maybe that’s just the Mommy hormones talking.”

“Well, let them speak their mind then.”

Their third kiss drags out even longer, until a soft little whine from the living room interrupts them as per usual nowadays.

-*-

They settle down on the couch as Mac makes it clear that Amy’s idea of ‘he won’t be hungry again so soon’ was the biggest miscalculation of both their Alone Times. And when Jake feels Amy’s hand go straight back into his hair when he leans down on the couch right next to her as he switches on the tv for a lazy baby lunch, he figures that haircut can wait for another two weeks, at least.

#B99 #Brooklyn 99 #Peraltiago #Jake Peralta #Amy Santiago #mac peralta #my writing #ficlet #fic

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

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63. sometimes I steal flowers from your garden on my way to the cemetery, but today you’ve caught me and have demanded to come with me to make sure the “[person] is [attractive] enough to warrant flower theft” and I’m trying to figure out how to break it to you that we’re on our way to a graveyard

Danbrey, sfw, please!

Here you go!

It’s the rabbit that draws her eye; it’s not everyday a bunny the size of a Beagle stops outside the window of Amnesty House. She follows the leash from the harness to the hand holding it, and spots a much bigger issue.

“Miss?” She steps onto the porch, “could you not take my flowers.”

“Yeeeeep!” The other woman drops the pocket knife she’s using to saw off the stems of tulips and irises, scrambling to her feet and tearing her fishnets in the process, “shit, um, I’m sorry, didn’t think you’d notice, I’ve done it before and you never, um, nevermind.” She pulls the rabbit back from the fence, “anyway, I really needed this, they’re really pretty and I think she’d like them-”

“Ohhhhh, I get it” Dani crosses her arms, “in that case, I’ll come with you. I want to see the person who’s cute enough to warrant multiple flower thefts.”

“Um, or! You could not do that and I could promise to never do this again?”

“Nope, my mind’s made up.” She slips on her Birkenstocks and heads down the front stairs. Jake and Moira are both home, so she’s not too worried about locking up.

“Fine. Let me just-” The woman scoops the rabbit up and sprints away. Dani could just let her go, but those were her heirloom irises, damn it, and she wants to make sure the person who gets them knows just how valuable they are. So off she goes, soles slapping the pavement as they head towards the lakeside.

She won’t be surprised if the recipient is hot; god knows the thief is. The freckles and red-streaked hair is just the icing on the combat-boot, denim-vested femme cake.

Growing up in this neighborhood means she never loses sight of her target, even when she’s cutting through alleys and taking sharp turns. Then the woman goes straight through a wall of junipers and Dani is not interested in getting that scratched up by plants today. This is one of the borders of the park, so all she needs to do is find the front entrance to relocate her very distinct thief.

Ten minutes of hunting later, she spots a red and black pompadour on the other side of a low, stone wall. She’s cross-legged on the grass, which the rabbit is happily munching by her side.

“Okay, seriously, does the person you’re seeing know those...are...aw fuck.”

The other woman turns from the gravestone she’s sitting by to look at her, “Yeah. This is kinda why I didn’t want you to come with me. I mean, it was a hella weird thing to do anyway, but” she sweeps her arm at the cemetery, “this is super not a date.”

“I’m so sorry.” Dani sits on the opposite side of the rabbit, “That never even occurred to me. I…” she sneaks a glance at the dates; the death was only three years ago, “I’m sorry for your loss, too.”

Silence settles between them; she feels like she should say something else, that it’d be rude to just shrug and walk away, but she has no clue what words are even appropriate here. The rabbit stretches its neck, bonking it’s nose into her hand. She pets it, smiling when it nestles closer.

“Mom really liked bulbs.” The thief says softly, “when I was little we’d always go for walks in the spring just so we could see the first ones popping out of the ground. She liked ones that were unique, so when I saw the orange and black ones in your garden all I could think was how happy they’d make her. How she woulda stopped to look at them whenever she walked past. I know it’s silly but I, um, this felt like the closest I could get to giving her that.”

The breeze carries dried iris petals from the headstone into the park beyond the wall.

“You could have just asked. There’s no way I would have said no if you told me what they were for.”

“It felt too weird. Everything feels weird these days.” She sighs, reaching out to rub dust from the stone, “I thought I was ready to come back, but it’s like the whole town is haunted.”

The fresh flowers wobble, then land on the grass. Dani grabs them and puts them back, the rabbit honking indignantly when she does.

“At least Dr. Harris Bonkers is having a nice time.” The other woman rubs the rabbit’s ears, “isn’t that right, buddy?”

“What’s he a doctor of?”

A small, beautiful smile, “Psychology. He worked hard for his PhD.”

“I bet.” She gives the doctor a final rub on the nose, “I’ll, uh, I should give you two some time alone.” Dani stands, brown eyes watching her the whole time.

“Thanks for the flowers.”

She smiles, “You’re welcome.”

--------------------------------------------------------------

Moira’s expecting a package, so Dani doesn’t even look up when the older woman answers the front door.

“Um, hi. I, um, I was hoping to get some flowers? The blonde who lives here said I should ask this time. I’m Aubrey? Wait, I don’t think I told her that.”

“Which blonde?”

“The cute one?”

“....I meant the boy or the girl.” Moira replies, amused, just as Dani reaches the door.

Aubrey waves, “Hi again. Could I take a few Irises?”

“Sure. Oh, wait, let me get you the pruning shears; the knife isn’t great for cuttings.”

“Dani! Could I get a hand really quick?” From the accompanying clanks, Barclay needs said hand urgently.

“Coming! Here, you can just leave them on the steps when you’re done.”

One hour and a narrowly avoided soup disaster later, she’s herding the others to the table when there’s another knock on the door.

“I, um, I stuck these in my bag without thinking.” Aubrey holds out the shears. In the porchlight, her eyes are red-rimmed and there’s a slight smear in the black lipstick on her upper lip.

“It happens. Jake, my roommate, once went a whole day with six boxes of poptarts in his bag because he got distracted while unloading groceries. Uh, if you’re not busy we’re just about to have dinner. Seems only polite to invite my biggest admirer.”

Aubrey raises her eyebrows.

“My, uh, the biggest admirer of my gardening?” Her cheeks are hot, but her flustered tone seems to relax Aubrey.

“Sure. I just have to make sure I get home in time to feed Dr. Harris Bonkers.” She grins and steps into the house.

It’s common for Amnesty residents to bring home friends (or strangers), so when Barclay spots Aubrey he simply ducks back into the kitchen for an extra set of cutlery and a bonus bowl. As always happens when Barclay cooks, everyone is too busy stuffing their faces for the first ten minutes of dinner to say much.

“So, Aubrey” Mama sips her tea, “what brings you to town?”

“I grew up here but, um, I left a few years ago to try and kickstart my career.”

“What do you do?”

Literal sparks fly from her guest’s fingertips as she wiggles them, “magic.”

“Whoah, sweet!” Jake leans forward, “do you do stunts?”

“Nah” Aubrey’s smile is brightening under the excitement, “I do sleight of hand, card tricks, that kind of thing. I like the classics. Lots of other people do too, but I hit a spell where no one was interested in booking me, so I came back here to regroup.”

“Smart thinkin’. Pretty much everyone here knows that tryin to make ends meet on the road can lead to serious trouble.”

“Or grand theft auto.” Dani smirks at Barclay.

“That was an accident!”

“Wait, what?” Aubrey laughs, the room feeling ten times brighter when she does, “how does that even happen?”

Barclay recounts the story, blushing all the while, then points out that at least he never got stuck halfway up an off-limits slope because he was daydreaming, and to which Jake responds that that’s not even in his top ten wipeouts, dude.

Aubrey hangs around, helping Dani with the dishes while they chat about childhood pets (Dani had a frog that required her to drop food on his head in order for him to notice it). When she finally re-laces her boots, her new friend is smiling constantly and Dani never wants to look at anything else.

“Hey, uh, tonight was really fun. Do you want to come by on Friday? I’m, uh, I’m cooking, so it won’t be as good as what Barclay made, but I’d love for you to try my breakfast salad. Oh, and my muffin. Muffins.”

“I’d love to. And don’t sell yourself short, flowergirl” Aubrey winks, shooting finger guns her way, “I bet your dinner is gonna rule.”

----------------------------------------------------

“What do you think? Too much?” Aubrey turns from the mirror. Dr. Harris Bonkers wiggles his nose.

“You’re right, the heels are too much. Gotta leave some plausible deniability. And be able to run away if this goes bad.” She tosses the black heels back into the closet and squeezes into the tiny bathroom to start on her make-up. It has to be perfect, or as perfect as she can get it in the mirror that’s inexplicably high up on the wall.

Yeesh, is getting ready to impress a cute girl really the thing making her consider moving back in with dad? It would be easier to find the right clothes if she had a space to hang them up in, instead of stacked boxes to dig through. But walking the streets where mom used to hold her hand, eating at the places they’d go for breakfast, all those vortexes of memories are hard enough to free herself from on their own. Sitting in the chair she used to, expecting to see her at the table or in the yard, those things would be too much.

It’s been easier since she found Amnesty. Since she found Dani. It’s hard to be stuck in the shadows of the past when there’s a beautiful ray of sunshine sitting next to you. She has dinner there most days now, practices her new routine while Dani updates the inventory for her online plant store.

Relatedly, Aubrey now has several rabbit-safe houseplants that Dani always offers to come check on. Aubrey’s actually pretty good with plants, but she’s not about to miss out on an evening sandwiched next to Dani on her futon and the ghost of jasmine perfume winding around her when she sleeps.

Amnesty is lit only by the string lights on the porch and the glow from the kitchen when Aubrey bounds up the stairs.

“Dani?”

“Oh, hey, you’re early.” Dani leans in the doorway of the kitchen and Aubrey’s brain sounds like a cartoon, nothing but “boiiings” and “wowzas” for a good ten seconds.

Dani’s hair is out of it’s usual messy bun, and instead of her overalls or patched jeans, she’s in a short, heather green tank-top dress. Getting on her knees to kiss the vine tattoos weaving up her legs would be too forward, but boy does she want to.

“Took an earlier bus just to be safe. Man, it’s so weird to be here when it’s this quiet.”

“No kidding; I can’t remember the last time I was the only one here.” Dani shoos her through the kitchen and out into the back garden. The little white table usually piled with tools is cleared of everything but a green tablecloth and two wine glasses. That’s another point in the “yes, this is a date” category. The first was that Dani was careful to emphasize that everyone would be gone for the night for camping, work, or ill-advised urban skate stunts.

“Sit your cute butt down, I’ll be right back with dinner.”

That’s the first butt-based compliment she’s gotten, so score one for this red skirt. When Dani comes back, Aubrey can’t help but bounce in her seat; her crush is carrying a board covered in fruit and bread, and she absolutely sees a fondue pot on the counter inside.

“Since Cheesy Heat closed, I thought I could recreate it for us. Kinda. Barclay said he thinks they used a super fancy cheese that’s hard to get here.”

“That’s probably why they went out of business. Dang, why so many fondue pots?”

“Barclay keeps getting them for Christmas.” She sets the chocolate one down next to the cheese, and when she tugs on her dress before sitting down Aubrey’s mouth waters from more than just the meal.

The stars come out as they take turns making a mess of the table cloth, but the longer she sits here, happier than she’s been in years, the more Aubrey knows she can’t put the question off.

“Why the fancy dinner tonight?”

Dani dabs her mouth with her napkin, “I, uh, I, Cheesy Heat was my go-to, uh” her voice drops to a whisper, “date place.”

“Ohthankgod.” Aubrey flops back in her chair, “this is a date.”

“Did you think it wasn’t?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t wanna, like, assume.”

“Fireblossom” Dani stands, making a little half circle to reach her, “the first time we met you were stealing from me assuming I wouldn’t notice.”

“To be fair, getting caught in petty theft is less terrifying than making an ass out of yourself in front of a hot girl.” She grins as Dani straddles her lap.

“...okay you’re right, I’d hate to embarrass myself in front of you. Again.”

“A girl who can run me down in sandals is pretty hot.”

“Pfft” Dani giggles, hides her face in Aubrey’s shoulder, “not as hot as a girl who can sprint while carrying a twelve pound rabbit.”

“Seventeen.” Aubrey kisses her cheek, whispers teasingly, “you shoulda told me this was a date, I could’ve brought flowers.”

“You can bring me some next time.” Dani sits up, smiling at her.

“Sweet, I know somewhere I can get them for free.” She bounces her eyebrows, making the vision of perfection in her lap laugh.

“Nope, this time it’ll cost you.”

“How much?”

Dani cups her cheeks and dives down for a kiss, Aubrey clinging to her dress and sighing as she slips her tongue between her lips.

“Few of those” Dani murmurs, brushing their noses together.

“I’m happy to pay them.”

#meet ugly #danbrey #aubrey little/dani #taz amnesty

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welllpthisishappening · 4 years

Note

I just read the a curse so dark and lonely series like last week omg I’ll talk about it forever

Ok, ok, ok, yes. First, it’s important to know that I loved the first book. Loved. It. Thought it was a fresh and interesting take on the Beauty and the Beast fairy tale and I was here for the characters and the story and the world building and the politics and the STORY. I say that twice because I think that’s where things get kind of muddled gong forward.

Was I cool with the way the first book ended? Yeah, sure—I liked Grey and I thought it was interesting with the way things turned, but the more I think about it, the more I think the first book could have been a standalone. We’re gong to go under the cut because spoilers:

Ok, so like I said, I liked Grey a lot. I liked how he was with Harper (would not have been totally upset by him and Harper making out??) and his relationship with Rhen was fascinating. But I think adding to his story stretched the story a bit too thin. There was already SO MUCH going on in Emberfall that adding Shyl Shallow was like—oh God, there’s a lot happening. Y’know what I mean?

Also, uh, potentially controversial opinion, but I wasn’t super sold on Lia Mara. Her POVs were kind of...not totally boring, but kind of boring. Also, THEY’D JUST BROKEN THE CURSE. I know it wasn’t Rhen and Harper’s book anymore, but THEY’D JUST BROKEN THE CURSE. I wanted that. I wanted repercussions and consequences and for Rhen and Harper to actually decide they actually liked each other because sometimes that was hard to figure out.

Which brings us to A Vow So Bold and Deadly.

Wanting to shake literally everyone in this story was occasionally the point of this story, but YO DID I WANT TO SHAKE EVERYONE IN THIS STORY. Except Noah, who has never done anything wrong in his life. And while everyone was deserving a shake I was still like do Rhen and Harper actually like each other?? And I wasn’t really sure I ever got the answer because:

THERE WAS SO MUCH GOING ON AND TOO MANY POVS and because there were so many POVs, everything towards the end felt...more than a little rushed. I had to GO BACK and check that Lilith was dead. Which is not great! All of this happened in like a page and also Rhen turned back into the monster and everyone was like how will he turn back??? And Harper said something like: we already know we love each other.

NO WE ABSOLUTELY DO NOT.

Anyway, fine. That’s fine. They don’t have to actively say they love each other to be in love, but—woulda been nice! Also, let’s talk about the end. So this whole story starts with Rhen and Harper and their maybe-there love and getting back control of the kingdom and then—

They just don’t??? I know, I know, Grey is the older brother and therefore the rightful heir, but I kind of thought he’d go back and rule with Lia Mara in Shyl Shallow and Rhen and Harper would stay in Emberfall and they’d have an alliance? I did not think Grey would be king of Emberfall and be like, oh yeah, Rhen you and Harper can stay in the castle. What?!? W H A T?? It just felt like Rhen and Harper got the ultimate short end of the stick. Like what were they going to do? For like...the rest of their lives?

Listen, Rhen was kind of a shit guy occasionally, but he’d also been STRAIGHT UP TORTURED FOR VERY CLOSE TO AN ETERNITY and no one ever really acknowledged that? He lost an eye?!?! He had to burn all those people??? Not every story gets a perfectly tied up happily ever after, but Rhen at least deserved something. (Maybe Harper telling him she loved him? Who can say?)

(Also was Noah cool with just living in Emberfall forever? Cool he loved Jake and followed Jake and Jake was cool with Grey now, but...he just left behind everything? Everyone thought he had magic? They hated that???)

Speaking of magic, I cannot believe this is the end because there were so many loose ends that just weren’t tied up. Everything in Shyl Shallow. Everyone wanting to kill Lia Mara. Everyone wanting to kill Grey. Nolla Verin being something of a psycho. They just left those there.

And lastly: LIA MARA BEING PREGNANT. This is not so much a hanging plot-thread as much as a personal pet peeve of Gilmore Girls-like Lane has sex once and is suddenly pregnant. I just—hate that. I hate it. Also, Noah’s the only intelligent person here.

This got very long-winded and makes it sound like I did not enjoy the book. Which I didn’t love it nearly as much as I did the first one, but I still appreciated the world building and most of the plot. The end was just so rushed and more than once I was like, oh, wait that just happened. When it ended I legit said, out loud, huh, it’s done, then.

#a curse so dark and lonely #a vow so bold and deadly #oh! oh!#i will say though #that the angst in the last book? top tier #like i shouted about it to justin #that was legit #stealing-vengence #laura rambles #laura reads books

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bladekindeyewear · 4 years

Text

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-04-02

Alright I’ll fix the broken images later right now lets goooooo read the updaaaate I’ve been only spoiled on the chapter title

I don’t even wanna guess. Jake? This makes me think of Jake for some reason, even though that doesn’t make much se-- oh right the Vriskas are locked in a school closet with a dead clown.

> CHAPTER 7. Distress Call From the Closet

Yep.

Also, this is how a car design looks when it was invented to have its first appearance be it flying with a human named Tavros looking out from an open side door.

(I’m not ENTIRELY against designing something for its immediate-art-use-purpose first and functional or historical-origination thought later, but usually when you make it that obvious that that’s what your doing it’s best to make that fact funny. Like the Conveniently Shaped Lamp.)

Also I appreciate this using of Candy as kind of more lighthearted breaks in the action?

> (==>)

I thoguht that protruding fang (?) was drool for a second and wondered what the fuck they were up to in this closet all of a sudden.

Vriska, thriving on it, has not felt so decadently alive in a very long time. Tavros has never in his tragic existence felt so close to death, which is surprising to him.

Vrissy is trying her best not to grapple with any cosmic truths at the moment, since she’s getting a phone call in the middle of hiding for her life.

Vrissy’s implied to be somewhere in-between all that by this joke. I bet she’ll be comparing herself to Vriska and Tavros alike throughout this mess, wondering where on the spectrum she lands and being ashamed of it AND both of them regardless. Vriska Original had a ghost version who went on a fair bit of a Page dress-up thing and personality shift, so maybe we could expect Vrissy to struggle with being caught in the middle of the scales... or does that qualify as overthinking it classpectways?

VRISSY: Yeah Harry I would say we are Extremely Aware of the Situ8ion. VRISSY: As it Unfolded the fuck all around us.

Good Christ, Vrissy’s selectively-capitalized Kanaya-isms continue to be cute.

Oh, he’s on speakerphone.

> (==>)

Yep, telling Rose and Kanaya would be the smart thing to do, but it isn’t the Them thing to do.

--ROXY’S PLACE?!?? Hoo boy. On the other hand, though, we get more Roxy, so it evens out.

Also, I like how Harry Anderson has to spell out Harry Anderson’s entire name for his Harry Anderson chat tag every single time. Harry Anderson.

> (==>)

Part of the reason, Tavros thinks, that he’s been so game to continue on with the worst plan anyone has ever concocted, is that the more bullshit they endure, the longer they can put off actually doing anything that matters.

If he’s getting sprayed with a sprinkler and getting clown feet in his face, it’s a farce. It can’t hurt him. But if they get to the part where he’s shoving the uncooperative weight of his uncle’s corpse in an incinerator, he will stop floating in protective semi-consciousness above his body and it will all be real.

Ouch.

Can’t one of you assholes just captchalogue him? Or did you leave all the appropriate-strength moduses at home? Even you Vriska??

Oh, right. Everyone knows and you can just leave him here. Good call. I mean you don’t really have to worry about forensic evidence with the pictures circulating.

> (==>)

VRISKA: 8ye 8itch.

Oooh! That feels satisfying! Yeah, tell off Gamzee’s corpse!

...Wait.

If they just leave Gamzee there, Jane can revive him, can’t she.

Fuck. Maybe it’s up to Jake to try and stop that.

> (==>)

Karkat and Meenah resistance-time, then, with them presumably hearing about this development on the internet. Wow, Meenah’s horns are getting long fast. Plus a hint more of her grown-up self’s height. I didn’t think she’d keep maturing so fast with her absurd lifespan ahead of her.

Oh shit, I didn’t see at first--

Right, Candy might still be lighthearted compared to the broader plot just due to lowered stakes, but it’s still the Carpet-Bombing-and-War-Filled Shituniverse.

Trolls are made for the battlefield.

From the moment a troll oozes out of the mother grub’s pulsating sphincter, through the trials of the brooding caverns, across the brutal day to day slog of Alternian society, all the way to their Ordeals, to the sucking void of space. They are bred for nothing but endless war.

But Commander Vantas...Commander Vantas is different.

Is... is Meenah narrating right now? Because fuck.

Or so all the pamphlets say.

The actual Commander Vantas has blisters on his heel and has been taking pot-shots at scouting drones for the last six hours. He could use a bath, honestly.

Or is this one of the trolls on the side narrating who’s kind of internalized the stories of trolls’ prior warlike nature?

> (==>)

MEENAH: yo nubs is that u MEENAH: pretty rank KARKAT: OH MY GOD. KARKAT: I FLATLY REFUSE TO BELIEVE THAT YOU CAN SMELL MY NATURAL MUSK OVER THE STENCH OF BLOOD AND BURNING FLESH.

I guess it probably was Meenah narrating, then. Unless it’s a really biased alt!Callie doing the talking.

MEENAH: didnt i warn u bout thinking tho? KARKAT: GOD DAMMIT MEENAH, DON’T MEME AT ME.

I don’t know what meme this is and I really don’t want to know.

They have had this argument more than once. In fact, both of them could play either side of it. Karkat has done his time in the field, of course, leading small guerilla operations to free prisoners and sabotage Crocker’s supply chains, but Meenah and the rest of the council is right. Which is why he’s here, instead of at the front lines with his rebels, where he belongs.

His true value is his face. His symbology. At the end of the day, he is a fucking ad campaign.

...is KARKAT narrating here???

SWIFER: boss check the news!

Oh shit, right, Swifer is in the resistance in Candy instead of just a breeding assistant in Meat as the bonuses remind us.

KARKAT: OH FUCK. MEENAH: what KARKAT: JESUS CHRIST. MEENAH: nubs i swear 2 god KARKAT: IT’S GAMZEE. KARKAT: HE’S DEAD. MEENAH: oh MEENAH: well shit KARKAT: I CAN’T FUCKING BELIEVE THIS. MEENAH: u okay KARKAT: NO!

Huh. Them’s some complicated feelings that could fall in basically all directions at once.

Also, I can’t believe Karkat has hung around humans enough to fully internalize the full-throated exclamation “JESUS CHRIST”, which wouldn’t even really be a thing on Earth C with people who aren’t from Earths B or A.

MEENAH: u outlawed fishpuns i gotta make my own fun

How could you, Karkat.

KARKAT: AND I GUESS IF YOU CALL AN OBSCENELY PUBLIC PALE ACT, PERFORMED IN A FUGUE OF DESPERATE PANIC INTENDED TO PREVENT HIM FROM MURDERING ALL OF MY FRIENDS INSTEAD OF JUST HALF OF THEM “A THING”. KARKAT: THEN YES, I GUESS WE HAD A THING. KARKAT: BUT IF YOU’RE ASKING ME IF I’M SAD THAT HE’S DEAD? KARKAT: ABSOLUTELY THE FUCK NOT.

Okay, I’d hoped not, good...

KARKAT: THAT’S NOT WHY I’M SAYING FUCK A BUNCH OF TIMES. MEENAH: u need a reason to say fuck a buncha times KARKAT: SHUT UP. KARKAT: LOOK AT THE PICTURE.

--Right! That’s a good reason to not be okay.

KARKAT: I DON’T THINK SO? I CAN’T SEE HER EYES IN THIS PICTURE, BUT SHE’S COVERED IN BLOOD, AND SHE’S CARRYING GAMZEE, SO SHE’S CORPOREAL AT LEAST.

I love this form of analysis somehow.

KARKAT: OKAY...HERE. OH. OF COURSE. CROCKER IS CLAIMING HER SON WAS KIDNAPPED AND FORCED TO PARTICIPATE. KARKAT: AND THEY’VE NAMED ME AS THE MASTERMIND. MEENAH: well we woulda taken credit for it anyway so this saves us the time MEENAH: thanks jane owe u one

Meenah isn’t the “concerned” type. Lemonade out of lemons.

> (==>)

That middle tweet is my favorite.

Oh dear, “#GamzeeAnon”...

KARKAT: SHIT. OF COURSE THIS WOULD HAVE TO DO WITH FUCKING SERKET. KARKAT: LITERAL MONTHS OF PLANNING, HOURS AND HOURS OF LOGISTICS, AND ALL OF IT GOES UP IN SMOKE BECAUSE OF ONE SPIDERY ASSHOLE. KARKAT: SHE *WOULD* FIND SOME WAY TO WRECK MY SHIT FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE.

indisputable

KARKAT: NOW? KARKAT: NOW WE PIVOT FROM THE SUBLIME TO THE RIDICULOUS.

Um...

What does that mean?

I’m having a lot of trouble not only understanding the basic meaning of what he’s saying, here, but understanding why KARKAT of all people would employ it.

......it’s a meme, isn’t it. Gotta be.

> (==>)

(Ooh, an eyepatch designed to invoke a Strider-shade. Nice.)

KARKAT: I NEED TO TALK TO EGBERT.

But....... why??

> (==>)

Oh right, cause his son’s girlfriend is involved.

> (==>)

Oh my goooood what a pair of John and Roxy caaaars! :D

He is too busy with these mental gymnastics to notice his father’s car parked outside.

Ah right. John’s... not on the best terms with him, I recall that.

> (==>)

Ohhhh myyyy goooood what an image!!!

John, Roxy, and Harry Anderson proceed to have the tail end of a conversation they had before, in another medium.

What the fuck!? Harry had that conversation WHILE this dead body situation was going on?! Let me reread that linked bit...

(And she has such a somber smile on her face, but given the conversation content it’s not surprising.)

Harry Anderson looks at the two of them all teary and laughing and hikes his bag higher on his shoulder, shifting his weight. Roxy sees a muscle tighten in his jaw. Her beautiful, smart boy. She wants to run over and hug him, to protect him from the possibility of pain at talking to his father, but she doesn’t. She knows how much he’s wanted this, no matter how much he jokes about it.

She looks back at John, and sees her own awe mirrored in his face. She wills him not to cry, not to fall back on his self-imposed suffering and blame loop. Something about the last hour must have done the trick, though. John stands up, brushes his hands on his jeans, and walks, back straight, toward his son.

JOHN: hey harry anderson. JOHN: it’s really, really good to see you. JOHN: do you wanna go for a drive?

The muscle in Harry Anderson’s jaw clenches a few more times, but when he smiles, it is genuine.

HARRY ANDERSON: yeah, dad. HARRY ANDERSON: that could be cool.

Oh son of a bitch. Well isn’t that entertaining. Harry you’re just going to ditch your friends for I’m kidding, this is life fulfillment you’re aiming for, of COURSE you’re going to agree. (Too bad bringing the current situation in is gonna throw a wrench in things.)

> (==>)

Oh right, that means more of THIS Vriska and THIS John. They’ve had a good start talking already, I wonder what more they can learn from each other.

HARRY ANDERSON: but no worries, i asked my mom to pick me up some snacks so she’ll leave to go to the store in a sec. HARRY ANDERSON: just sneak in after she leaves and hide in my room, and i’ll be back in a bit.

Harry you enormous shortsighted asshole. And John’s about to learn all this from Karkat over the phone to blow his cover.

> (==>)

aaaaa roxy art i cannot :D

Wonder if her stealthiness attunement is gonna catch them in the act?

> (==>)

From this jealousy bit, I wonder to what degree Earth C humans are used to Troll quadrants and their various interplay mores.

> (Room: Examine yourself.)

Oh, a proper room introduction for Harry Anderson! Very fashion-focused, very liking the spotlight--

Oh wait, shit. This is traditionally where classpect associations are hinted more obviously than anywhere else. Time to stop holding back on the classpect stuff and take in every fucking word with capital-C Classpect fully in mind.

A bedroom stands empty. There is no boy standing in this bedroom, or indeed anyone else. However, if the boy whose bedroom it was were here, one might remark that his name was HARRY ANDERSON.

And FUCK, one might say, does he like MUSICAL THEATER.

Spotlight, definitely. But is it for the attention? The possibilities? The acting?

He has been in his fair share of school plays, but he has LOFTY ASPIRATIONS to STAR in bigger and better productions. He especially appreciates modern MUSICAL REMAKES of classic OLD EARTH MOVIES. It's a craze that not everyone is happy about, but in the absent boy they have found a DEVOTED FAN. There is also just enough overlap between his taste and his father’s to allow for SOMEWHAT STILTED CONVERSATIONAL BONDING from time to time.

Hmmmm. Is it about the majesty of important works of media (I see “Pokémon” and “Alien vs Predator” up there...), or is it about the fact that they’re remakes of past works? Those are a lot of awards and stage lights now that I zoom in to look... and hats... hats could be important......

The boy who is not yet here has also been known to dabble in ACCESSORIZATION. He could be described as a COBBLER ASPIRANT, a NEOPHYTE MILLINER, or even a BIT OF A WHIZZ WITH A NEEDLE AND THREAD.

Oh, interesting! Not just putting out different outfits, but making them? And Milliner is hat-specific creation...

His mother got him his first SEWING MACHINE when he was 10, to keep him from using hers all the time. His looks are HAND-CRAFTED, often IMITATED, but never DUPLICATED.

Space is obviously possible from sewing, but-- A focus on uniqueness!!! The broader theme is getting VERY specific. You might feel where I’m leaning already.

His COSTUMES appear in various AMATEUR PRODUCTIONS, the devising of which takes up most of his FREE TIME. His friends are usually LESS APPRECIATIVE of his attempts to dress them up than he would like, though.

Holy fucking shit. He dresses up and makes unique HATS for his friends and others. Specifically so they can use them as COSTUMES to act parts!!!!

And the other unique thing mentioned about him here took the time aside to note how he appreciated the intersection in personal interests between him and his father for it.

So you all know what I’m thinking, right? HATS??? It’s got to be Heart, isn’t it. Maybe even a Page of Heart, with his long-off aspirations and talent for arming others with it. Any other additive/giving class might do the trick, too, like Sylph or possibly Maid. Knight could technically still fit pretty well, but I feel Page is better given what little we know so far, what with so much outward focus bleeding out.

(You can comb through the saga on my infamous hats tag or the summary on the Aspect Duality post, but the gist is that hats (and others’ clothes, but especially the hats. even shoes -- SO many shoes in that picture!) represent the gist of an expressed identity, personal uniqueness whether innate or affected ala a costume. Nepeta, Dirk, Terezi, and even Stitch have given us examples, some of them deeper than we realized, MOST of them probably overthought bullshit like I thought when I first created the hats tag and started tracking the wonderful importance of hats. ¬_¬)

I’d like to see anyone else’s interpretation. (EDIT: One more potential Nep-allusion in this room.)

> (==>)

Oh nooooooo!!!! Tavros’s sprite is the saddest looking thing I’ve ever seen!! D: Like a mix of Jane and Jake that thoroughly regrets his entire existence! Which he practically does! D: Why the Caliborn-like clothes though?

(Some hint at “how different alt!Callie’s Caliborn must have been” like the commentary suggested exploring in fanfiction? Was the suggestion meant to divert attention from the idea that it’d be addressed in the plot? Andrew pulled that trick a time or two, why not these authors?)

Also:

Pffff. Vriska just accessorizing immediately-- Oh, wait. That might just be a bandana she had at some point coated in Gamzee’s blood.

Tavros is looking at the news on a borrowed phone -- nice call on disabling the tracking on yours, Tavros.

> (==>)

TAVROS: It’s getting a bit surreal to see my, uh,, frozen mask of horror on every news site,, TAVROS: It’s a good shot of you,,, though, Vrissy, VRISSY: It really is Shockingly well composed.

Heheheh. It’s fun that Tavros knows exactly what Vrissy/ka would care about.

And yes, Vriska is over there trying out ALL the bandanas.

> (==>)

VRISSY: Oh, is trying on all my 8oyfriend’s accessories not passing the time well enough for you? VRISKA: Desper8 times call for desper8 measures, Vrissy. VRISKA: And this is some dire shit.

They stare each other down. Did she mean the fugitive situation, or Harry Anderson’s fashion choices? Vrissy feels silly wondering this, but despite the situation they’re in, she can’t help but feel more acutely anxious about Vriska’s presence.

She likes her life, and she trusts her own choices. But now, looking at everything from Vriska’s vantage point, it all feels silly. Unimportant. Childish.

She can’t tell if she wants Vriska to rip in to Harry Anderson or if she wants her to stay silent. To put off the moment where she has to defend him or join in.

Real interesting. Like she’s caught between these worlds after all.

> (==>)

They say it was a long drive, but...?

...WOW. What a chill, disinterested-looking affect his sprite makes for. Huh.

He kisses Vrissy’s temple and she leans in to the warmth of him.

HARRY ANDERSON: aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. HARRY ANDERSON: so sorry it took so long. HARRY ANDERSON: can’t rush a heart to heart, you know how it is.

Stop making me deliberate whether you’re trying to drop teasing Heart-aspect hints. You already know I’m going to be obsessively scrutinizing every word of dialogue around Harry to see if it fits, story. No need to rub it in.

VRISSY: You actually had a Heart to Heart with your dad? How many times did he Cry?

I DIDN’T EVEN READ THE NEXT LINE QUIT SAYING HEART TO HEART YOU EVEN GAVE IT PROPER CAPS THAT TIME

HARRY ANDERSON: but god, it was a mess. i had to keep talking to keep him from looking at his phone or turning on the radio. HARRY ANDERSON: i may have told him more about my deep passions and emotions in the last hour than the whole rest of my life combined, just to keep him from hearing the fucking news.

Holy shit. You exploited conversation about your deep passions and interests for a separate goal???

Aaargh! Classpect everywhere! I’ve relapsed!!! D:

> (==>)

JOHN IS SO HAPPY

John Egbert has not had a day like this in a very long time. He can barely keep track of this series of epiphanies he’s having. He stretches out on his couch to relax and process the gifts of advice and connection his friends and family and ex-family have just given him.

OH RIGHT TIME TO RUIN IT WITH MAXIMUM SHENANIGANS

JOHN: hey karkat! great timing! JOHN: so much just happened and im kind of reeling about it. KARKAT: YEAH NO SHIT.

Ohhhh. Much of the time I hate dramatic irony, but those moments before someone is about to be let in on the discrepancy... oh man I love that.

JOHN: is something going on? i just spent the afternoon with my son, and i think he would have told me if something was up with his friends? KARKAT: OH MY LUSCIOUS SHITTING CHRIST JOHN LISTEN TO ME. JOHN: listening!

"Luscious”?? Did they try to type “Lusus” and get autocorrected?

Who’s writing Homestuck on their phone???

> (==>)

J...John?? Are you okay?? XD

This picture. These two paragraphs. I fucking love them.

(Wow, being closer to the “canon” story due to ridiculous shenanigans right after his back-to-back self-insights and outlook changes have really been healthy for him huh. He can probably sense HS^2 reaching him out here. And you can see the helpless comedian his probably-still-depressed ass became on Earth B in his reaction here. EDIT: Also, how appropriate that even by DYING, the Bard of Rage managed to fulfill his role and shatter the last vestiges of John's narrow-outlooked despair?)

John can’t answer. He can’t speak. His body has given itself over to the long-lost feeling of manic euphoria. It had felt like Harry Anderson was holding something back on the drive earlier, but he had already told John so much. He hadn’t wanted to press for more.

Yeah... after what John’s gone through across his life and session, finding out Harry managed to hide THIS for a whole car-ride is the best sort of punch-line for him.

John can’t breathe. Something is happening. Something is finally fucking happening, and he’s finally awake enough to appreciate it.

--yep. I was just guessing earlier, but this kind of confirms it’s in part a closer-to-relevance, closer-to-canon feeling bleeding in. Something is happening that’s important enough to SHOW onscreen and not skip over. I guess he really does like being anchored in Light after all.

> (==>)

John wheezes himself into relative calm. He has to get Karkat to understand. He clears his throat and breathes.

JOHN: karkat, this can be how we win. JOHN: i know what we need to do.

...holy SHIT.

Karkat, how did you know calling JOHN about this would work out this well??

John actually taking confident action to solve a problem, in a way that isn’t going to end up depressing like his attempt to provide Tavros escape in the Epilogues... this should be interesting.

See you next time. (I had to image-fix some stupid linked hat posts for this blogpost and I’m out of energy, so I’ll fix the other old post I promised that asker to fix in like, a day or two; I’ll post when I do.)

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #upd8 #Homestuck^2 #bladekindeyewear #blastyoboots #hats #Heart and Mind #Harry Anderson

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mushroommouth · 5 years

Text

The Good Mourning Part III

A/N: Haha, guess who’s not dead?

Anyway, happy we’re-done-with-January! Sorry this chapter is somewhat dialogue-heavy. There was a lot of resolution that had to be done and not much action to go along with it.

Additionally, there are some scenes missing/ things that weren’t addressed quite just yet. Some of them were removed for for flow purposes, and others. Well. We’ll get there when we get there.

Regardless, I hope you enjoy the finale of TGM!

-Skye (👻)

“Easy, easy—”

Aaron laughed and nudged his boss’s hand off his arm.

“I’m burned not busted. Besides, you’re the one a billion years old.” Aaron smirked and readjusted the icing bag. “I should be worrying over you, if anything.”

“Very funny. I’ll fire you any day now, I swear.” Aaron’s boss rolled his eyes and leaned on the counter. “Besides, you got burned on your dominant hand. Look at this frosting work. It’s- actually, It’s fine. But you’ve certainly done a lot better.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s just kind of hard to get a good grip. I’ll get the hang of it.”

“And your leg?”

“Again, I said I’m fine. What the hell is your problem? It’s been almost three months.” Aaron rolled his shoulder and sighed before setting down the icing bag. “Also, I can’t work when you’re looking at me like that. Just…really. What is going on with you, Stanley?”

Stanley sighed and rubbed his face before nervously scratching at his beard.

“I…I don’t know. I guess I never really had a family and– c’mon, you little shit. Don’t make me say it.”

“Aww, boss. You never told me you had a heart deep beneath that gross crusty old man act.” Aaron laughed.

“Yeah, yeah. Real cute. See if I sign your check next time, much less open up.” Stanley stormed across the kitchen to wash his hands. “You’re real charming, kid.”

“Oh don’t be like that.” Aaron picked up the icing bag and started gently swirling frosting onto each cupcake. “You know what I mean. When I was out, there’s no one else I woulda trusted to watch Tom ‘n the kittens…’n…I don’t know. If I could have my cat in here, with you guys and baking and all… I don’t think I’d ever leave.”

Aaron smiled slightly.

“Besides, you were there for me when I had no one and you hired me as a cashier, and then you gave me the chance at…this.”

Aaron froze before bursting out in laughter.

“Stan, are you-are you crying?”

“I’m just thinking about how terrible of a cashier you were.” Stanley sniffled and wiped at his eyes in the crook of his elbow. “You were friggin terrible. Got to me is all.”

He put gloves on and walked to stand next to Aaron.

“We lost almost as much money from you doing math bad as when you were out.” Stan grabbed a tray of red velvet and got started icing them. “We needed ya here. We were hit pretty hard without you. I…should have really kept my promise and made the big guy pay for it.”

“You mean Dan? I mean, they were hit pretty hard, too.” Aaron sighed. “I mean, literally, sure. He’s been in and out of the hospital since. I can’t imagine what his copay is, and if he didn’t step in front of it for me, I’d been finished for, I’m sure. But also… I dunno. I don’t really have a family either, but when I do it’s this.”

“You’re a good guy, Aaron.”

Aaron snorted. “You’re just saying that to make me feel good about myself.”

“Yeah, you’re kind of a jackass.”

Aaron laughed. “Yeah. No worries about losing the money though. People have been trailing in here non-stop because they thought we closed for a bit because something happened to you. Y’know, in your fragile, elderly state.”

“Yeah, yeah. You know, it’s a shame the fire didn’t burn your hair off. You look like a frickin’ hippy.”

Aaron laughed harder. “Maybe for your birthday. You’ve only got so many left, after all.”

“Shame it didn’t burn your mouth off, too.”

They iced in silence for a moment before Stanley spoke up again.

“Hey, once we’re in the clear again and have enough money saved up, I think you gave me an idea for our next spot, Aaron.”

—

Cody cautiously opened the door.

“Hey Milo?” He asked. “Dad and Miranda want to know if you would rather have sparkling red grape juice or sparkling…red grape juice?”

Milo looked up from his project.

“…What?”

“We’re out of white, but the red are different brands.” Cody said.

“I… got that. I meant why, I guess.”

“Oh! Dad and Miranda, uh. Do this dinner thing on special occasions. They get Italian takeout and wine, light a bunch of candles and pretend it’s all fancy. They started getting the grape juice, so I feel included and junk.”

“Huh.” Milo picked up the duck tape. “Sorry, I…uh. Does this look right to you?”

Cody stepped into the room and flicked on the light.

“It looks like…holy cow, are you done?”

Milo held Jake’s guitar close, fidgeting with the neck.

“Almost, I think! The top part needs a little more tape and junk.” Milo set the guitar down gently on the bed. “How does it look?”

The guitar was, truthfully, an amalgamation of glue and tape, but it was the first time Cody had seen it in one piece in months. All the strings were fixed, the paint that could be reapplied was, and it seemed finally whole. Cody walked up and smiled, taking in the details of the guitar.

As soon as he looked up, though, the smile fell in an instant.

“Milo?”

“Hmm?”

“When was the last time you slept?”

“Last night.”

“For more than two hours?”

“…That’s not fair.” Milo rubbed his eyes as if trying to wipe away the bags. “’Sides, look how far I got!”

“Milo, that’s cool and all, but—”

“Cody, you know this is important to me.”

“Yes, but at our age we need ten-to-twelve hours of sleep.” Cody sighed. “Milo…I’m worried about you. You’re all pale, and…you look like you’re starting to get sick. Sleep is–”

“I can’t sleep, okay?!” Milo balled his fists. “I tried. I really, really tried. I know it’s important. I just…can’t.”

Cody grabbed some tissues and sat down on the other side of the bed, trying not to jostle the guitar. He reached over and handed a tissue to Milo, who immediately began wiping away the rapidly-beading tears.

“Not like I can tell Dad, right?” Milo laughed dryly.

Cody forced a smile.

“Well, you can soon, right? That’s what we’re celebrating. Dan is finally getting his wires out. He’ll be able to eat for real soon and his teeth were all fixed and the surgery went well-he’s in the clear! It’s your last night with us with Dan hurt. Everything’s going back to normal.”

“‘Cept it won’t.” Milo muttered. “One of my dads is still gone and hasn’t made even a little bit of a sign to say he’s out there. And I saw the other- Cody, I don’t ever want to see Dan like that again. I…”

“Daniel Fuller, sit down!”

Dan whipped his head around from beside his hospital bed, looking dazedly at the IVs he ripped out and back up at Reese.

“Whhh…” Dan’s mouth felt like it was full of cotton. That felt correct given the circumstances, but he couldn’t remember exactly why.

Reese sighed and began walking across the room to guide him back to the hospital bed.

She forced a slight smile as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“…Welcome back to the world of the living.”

Finally, it clicked as Reese began putting back in the IVs. If Reese was here, then he was at the hospital. And if he was at the hospital…

“Whirrrrrr…is Ja’e?” Dan asked. “Mi’o?”

Reese frowned and looked to the other member of the room. Milo was looking back at Dan with wide, puffy eyes. His cheeks were streaked and stained with tears. He was holding something up with his sweatshirt, keeping it tight to his chest.

Milo stood up, taking a step toward Dan, wanting nothing more than to lunge at his dad and cry for hours. However, the movement seemed to remind Milo about what he was holding onto and he tensed up again.

Dan looked at Milo worriedly. He moved to to get up again, but Reese gave him a stern look.

“That’s enough, Mr. Fuller.” She watched him as he hesitantly scooted back into the bed. “You were concussed something fierce, not to mention the broken jaw and fractured cheekbone. You are going to stay still until at least the swelling goes down so we can do surgery.”

That was right. He and Aaron went to Donna’s old house. The rest was kind of fuzzy, but Dan was pretty sure Jake ended up being there. Milo was left with Cody. And now Dan and Milo were both at the hospital.

“It’s weird treating you and not Milo. You’re usually the safe one,” Reese forced a faint smile. She looked at Milo for a moment and back to Dan. “I have to go do rounds, but I’ll be right back. Just- please. Stay still. There’s the call button if you need me.”

Dan absentmindedly touched the bandage around his face while looking over Milo carefully. Milo seemed beyond upset, but not physically hurt. Dan sighed in relief and sank back into the hospital bed. He closed his eyes without realizing it, and jerked back awake from the movement on the other side of the room.

“Dad.” Milo sniffled, holding on to what was in his sweatshirt in one hand and wiping tears and snot off his face with the other. “Dad, Dad, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t-“

Milo was cut off by Dan wordlessly cupping a hand (the free one, the other was resting with the IVs) on the side of his face, silently wiping some of Milo’s tears away.

“Mi’o.” Dan said again, this time quieter but equally as desperate. He looked at his son intensely, desperate to say more and comfort him but not about to test the waters with Reese any further.

They looked at each other for a moment before Milo ripped his gaze away. Without another word, he dumped the splinters of Jake’s guitar onto Dan’s bed.

To Dan’s credit, he didn’t scream or wail like Milo feared he might—or like what Milo felt like doing. In fact, other than a faint gasp, Dan was so quiet that Milo had to force himself to turn around from the comfort of looking at the wall.

Dan was holding part of the neck, eyes wide. Tears were pooling up and spilling down his cheeks, but he didn’t seem to realize it. He gently nudged one of the pieces aside, looking at the scope of the damage.

The only response from the anchor- the thing keeping Jake with them- was a pitiful and faint cyan glow before fading out entirely.

Dan tightened his grip on the piece he was holding and began to tremble.

He didn’t scream or wail. Instead he cried quietly, holding the remaining pieces of his best friend. Milo wasn’t sure how long he watched Dan cry. Milo cried too, sure, but it felt strange. Dan, Dan Milo’s father, Dan the strong, Dan the one who had to keep it together so long for both Jake and Milo.

Neither talked much except occasional choked off apologies or reassurances. After awhile, it seemed to wear Dan out significantly. He fell asleep holding Milo’s hand in one hand and the same piece of the guitar in the other. Milo gathered up most of the pieces with his free hand, trying not to wake Dan up.

And when Reese came back, she didn’t comment on the broken guitar in the bed or report Milo staying past visiting hours, sleeping by Dan’s side.

And when Milo woke up with an additional blanket on his shoulders, his father fast and deep asleep still from painkillers, he didn’t say anything, either. But neither forgot.

“-ilo? Milo?”

“Hm?” Milo shook his head of the memory, trying to clear it like an Etch-a-sketch.

“I lost you for a second.” Cody offered more tissues, and Milo was shocked to realize how many tears were streaming down his cheeks.

“Sorry, I thought I was done with…all this.” Milo scrubbed at his eyes and wiped his nose

They sat in silence for a moment. The only sounds were Milo’s stifled sniffling and the gentle hum of the heater.

“It’s…okay to be upset. It was scary.” Cody sighed. “But you can always talk about it, ya know? It’s been fun with you being here more– though the situation isn’t great– and I just wish… I don’t know.”

Cody scratched the back of his neck and looked away.

“Make sure to take care of yourself too, Milo.”

Milo was silent for a moment before picking up the tape again and pulling the guitar into his lap. He ripped off a piece of duck tape and firmly wrapped it around the neck of the guitar.

“I know.” He finally responded quietly. “‘Sides, even if I didn’t, I think you would- I don’t know.”

“Post a ‘Milo cringe compilation everyday until Milo eats like a human?’”

“I dunno, I’d have to be embarrassed first for it to be cringe.” Milo laughed. “I wasn’t eating like a human before, anyway.”

“What about a ‘Cody snitches and tells Tegan, who won’t leave it alone’ kind of thing?’”

Milo gasped dramatically. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Nah, that’d be low. Even for me.” Cody leaned back before grinning. “Maybe…summoning an ancient god to hex you for your hubris until you get a full night’s sleep?”

“Actually, that’s your closest yet.” Milo smiled back. “But where’ll you get the tome?”

“Ah. Rats.” Cody snapped his fingers. “You got me there. For now.”

“You’ll find a way.” Milo yawned. “Always do.”

“Heh.”

The two sat in quiet for a moment as Cody watched Milo tinker with the guitar.

“I…think it’s finally sturdy.”

Milo gently handed the guitar for Cody to look over. Cody ran his fingers along the cracks and seems, before holding it as if to play. He then looked at it again before beaming at Milo.

“Milo, you did it!” Cody handed it back. “It looks great.”

“Thanks!” He took the guitar back and began gently picking at a piece of glue that obtruded above the crack it fixed. “All that’s left is tuning it, I think. I think.”

“Now would be a good time to take a break.” Cody got up from the bed. “Dinner’s been here and ready. I just came up here to ask about the grape juice.”

“I…either’s fine? I guess?”

“Does that mean you’ll come down?”

Milo looked away and held the guitar close.

“Milo-“

“I just need to tune it. I already found tutorials online.” Milo smiled tiredly. “I’ll come down when I’m done, okay? And that’s it.”

“…Promise?”

“I promise.”

Cody sighed and stood up. He hugged Milo briefly before heading to the door.

“…Your plate will be in the fridge.”

Cody stepped out of the room and headed to the kitchen. Cody couldn’t bring himself to meet Dom’s hopeful eyes.

“Milo’s not coming.”

—-

“-Then let’s hear how it sounds all together! If you don’t have a pick, for a gentler sound, strum your guitar using your thumb like this!” The grainy figure adjusted their camera slightly before demonstrating a simple thumb. “My dad taught me this trick when I was-“

“Yeuch.” Milo shut his phone off before the tutorial could finish and flopped back onto the bed.

He rubbed his eyes, wishing he shut the light back off when Cody left. He lay like that for a moment and counting his breath, hands gently pressed into his eyes until he saw the slightest bursts of stars.

Finally, Milo shot up and began flapping his arm nervously, trying to calm down.

“Okay, okay. Okay.” He took a deep breath and grabbed the guitar. “Dad, I dunno if you can hear me, but if this doesn’t work- if this doesn’t work, I’m going to take a break for a bit, okay? I’ll come back, but I’m beginning to think Cody’s right, and- okay.”

Milo held the guitar like how he saw in the video and took deep breaths in and out.

“Okay. On the count of three.”

“One-“ Milo lifted his hand shakily and held it just above the chords.

“Two.” He took a quick shallow breath, meaning to do the exact opposite.

“Three.”

Milo strummed the guitar. There was the sound of glass breaking and a bright cyan light engulfed his vision.

—-

The guitar was ripped away before Milo could realize what was happening.

It floated to the middle of the room, where it hovered before a figure formed around it. The figure, entirely blank other than vaguely humanoid, hesitated before quickly taking on their features. First was a neat burial suit, followed by tired eyes and a shock of blonde hair.

In a matter of seconds, there was Jake.

Jake collapsed to the floor, holding on to the guitar strapped to his chest like a lifeline, and took a deep and unnecessary breath. His hand moved from the guitar to grab at his unmoving chest. He gasped again before starting to get up.

“Dad?” Milo tried to blink some of the blotches out of his eyes.

“Milo-“ Jake started, but Milo had already jumped off the bed and bounded toward him.

Jake instinctively raised his arms to hold Milo in the embrace, but they phased right through Milo. The guitar stopped Milo from going through him entirely, which caused Milo to gently lay a hand on it as be began breathing faster and faster.

“Sorry,” Jake started. He cringed slightly at the echo effect of his voice. “I don’t think I’m all the way back yet-“

“Dad, I’m so sorry for fighting with you and saying you’re not my dad, and for making you feel like you can’t tell me stuff, and I’m sorry for taking so long to fix this and for the haunted house and for talking back to you and-“

“Breathe.” Jake smiled softly and got as close as he could to wrapping his arms around Milo. Milo shuddered for a second at the cold sensation rather than the feeling of touch. “Milo, you did so, so great.”

“But I- but I…” Milo trailed off and burst into tears.

The two stood in the mock hug for a moment, Milo’s hand not leaving the guitar. Jake waited until Milo’s breathing evened out somewhat into a quiet hiccup.

“You brought me back.” Jake reached up and held his hand as if he were cupping Milo’s cheek. “You put back together the guitar—that’s incredible! You’re incredible, Milo.”

“Yeah.” Milo sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Yeah! Take that, Cody! Sleep is for the weak!”

Jake chuckled.

“I don’t know about that.“ He cleared his throat. “Im fact, I think sleep might be up there in the whole ‘human needs’ thing. When’s the last time you slept?”

He sighed in relief as the echo effect dissipated, pulling back slightly to take in Milo’s expression.

“Boo, not you too.” Milo pouted. “Cody and Dad have been getting on my case nonstop already.”

“Well, they’re right. I…” Jake looked away. “How…is Dan doing, by the way?”

“What do you mean?”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s getting his stitches out today!” Milo smiled for a moment before his expression fell into confusion. “That’s why I’m at Cody’s. Uh, here at Cody’s. I guess.”

“Uh-“ Jake blinked in surprise.

“Did…you really were gone, huh?”

Jake scratched the back of his neck and looked at the floor, still somewhat surprised by the realization he wasn’t in their house.

“Not gone. It was like-“ He shook his head. “I don’t know how to describe it, but not gone. And just now, Milo, you made the door to bring me back here.”

Jake held up the guitar and smiled.

“I could feel you, though. Whenever you touched this, Milo, I knew it was you. And Cody sometimes. But Dan…” He trailed off and the smile vanished entirely.

“I think he’s been having trouble.”

“Oh.”

“He missed you a lot.”

Jake laughed dryly and looked away again.

“Well, I missed him too. I missed all of you so much.”

Overcome with the need to ease the tension to the point he was nearly vibrating, Milo quickly replied.

“Not as much as Cody’s gonna miss his window!”

“What? Oh- oh my god.”

Jake stood up quickly to get a better look at the blown-out window.

“Did I do that? Or did you do that?”

“Definitely you. You know, this time.” Milo followed suit and peered around Jake to take in the scene. “You exploded before you came back. There was a bright light and boom, you knocked out the window. It’s…weird no one came up to check on the noise.”

“I will definitely make sure that gets fixed.” Jake walked over to sit on the bed. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair before absentmindedly fiddling with the tuning pegs of the guitar.

Milo hesitated before sitting on the bed beside him.

“…Was I close to doing it right?”

“You were really close. It just needs a little more tweaking, but I can’t say it enough-the fact you fixed this without me teaching you about the parts of a guitar, the way you fixed all the pieces together- you’re incredible, Milo. And I’m so, so proud of you.”

“Thanks.” Milo yawned. “I think it’s dumb that you can sit on furniture but you can’t hug me after being gone for like three months.”

“It has to do with affecting the environment versus affecting a person.”

“Hmm.”

“Environment comes first.”

“You sound a lot like Cody.” Milo scooted back so his back was to the wall.

“He taught me everything I know. Which is pretty ironic if you think about it.” Jake stopped tuning and looked out of the corner of his eye at Milo. “You never answered my question. When’s the last time you slept?”

“Last night, technically.”

“I can’t say it enough how proud I am of you for this and being brave,” Jake fully turned to get a better look at his son. Milo turned away. “But that’s not the answer I was hoping to hear.”

“I know. I just haven’t been able to with, you know, everything going on.”

They sat quietly before Jake grinned.

“When you were little-really little, you’d fall asleep right away if I played for you.” Jake turned his gaze back to the guitar. “You’d always sneak out of bed and say you were going to get a snack, or use the bathroom, or get a glass of water, but instead you’d go play with your toys.”

Jake looked around the room and locked eyes with a video game ghost plush in the corner. “Now, you sneak out of bed and come here if you can’t sleep.”

“What can I say? I’m a sucker for tradition.”

Jake laughed and Milo cracked a tired grin back.

“You should play.” Milo said. “If you want.”

Jake hesitated before adjusting the guitar slightly as if to play it. He got his fingers over the chord and before stopping jerkily.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Milo quickly added.

Jake nodded and played a few chords, expression falling to that of focus as he tried to get the feel again. After some more nitpicking with the tuning pegs, he began to tentatively pluck out more notes.

He looked back over at Milo and the bags under his eyes.

“You’re sure it’s not going to make you fall asleep?”

“I promise it’s not. I’m fourteen, remember?”

Jake’s grin came back with full force.

“Oh, of course.”

Without another word, he began plucking out a lullaby from a decade prior. The room was silent save for the gentle music, the house almost seeming to have emptied itself to make room for the sound itself.

Learning an effective lullaby after the much louder and angrier Problem Sons was tricky. However, it was nowhere as tricky as an energetic toddler—or, beyond that, losing Milo Sr.

Once Jake was comfortable enough repeating the chords of the chorus, he began to sing. His voice soft and hoarse from disuse and his eyes never left the guitar as the melody played.

By the time he was finished, he took a breath and turned slightly to gauge Milo’s reaction.

Of course, it was an unnecessary measure. Jake chuckled and stood up, slinging the guitar around to his back.

“You shouldn’t make promises you don’t think you can keep.” Jake whispered to Milo’s sleeping form.

He gently brushed the hair out of Milo’s face and kissed his forehead.

“Goodnight, Milo.”

The young woman shuffled in the room holding two mugs, still shaking slightly from the events that unfolded months prior. She offered a cup to her guest and took the other before sitting on the couch.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know who else to call,” she said. She took a long drink from the coffee and took a deep breath.

“You’re quite alright.” The guest fiddled with an unlit cigar. “You’ve been such a help for us. I’d love to return the favor any way I can, though I can’t say the same for your husband.”

“I know, but you’ll do it for me, right?” The woman looked up hopefully, holding her breath for the response.

“Ghosts are typically not something the Church helps with. Demons, sure-but ghosts?”

The priest set down the coffee mug and stood up, walking around the room and looking at the pictures that hung the walls. He stopped at the painted portrait of the Virgin Mary and sighed.

“Even if it was something we normally helped with, it’s been months.”

“I know.” The woman sniffled and set down her coffee mug to grab a fistful of tissues. “It’s just- I haven’t been able to sleep. I’m still scared of it coming back-it used this fire, and while it didn’t burn anything inside, it still was bright blue and real and- did you know the house that used to be here burned down? What if it was the ghost? We can’t afford to move again-what if it comes after us this time?”

“Calm down. Take a deep breath. I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it.”

The woman obeyed, taking in a lungful of air and holding it until the priest spoke again.

“Your family has been in our church for decades. I cannot emphasize this enough- this is not something we can normally do. But-“ He sighed and scratched at the stubble on his cheek. “I will do it for you, just for you, and just because it’s you.”

“Oh, thank you-“

The priest interrupted.

“I fully believe the ghost is no longer within this building. However, for your ease of mind, I promise I will track it down if it’s still on this plane and send it to its rightful place.”

He stuck the cigar in his mouth, chewing a bit at the mouthpiece while thinking. “Therefore, we need to know more about it. You said this place burned down before?”

“Yes. It was completely destroyed. The owner sold the property immediately after. We bought it from her and built the new house.”

“She might know something; I’d be happy to reach out to her and get this started. Do you happen to have her name?”

“I took out the house information as soon as I heard you were coming.” The woman responded.

She went to the dining room before returning with a handful of papers. She dug through them before coming across the deed.

“Oh! Here we go. That’s right.” She looked up and smiled at the priest, waving the sheet of paper.

“It was Ms. Donna Pierly.”

#ASJFKLSDHFLSADHGLSADKFLKSDAHGASBFKDSAKLFHSITESABFJLVFSSAIUFALSBJFKLSAJFHSDAHFLSDFJsd #ITS HERE #ITS HERE AND MY HEART HURTS NOW THANK U SO MUCH #I LOVE THIS AND I LOVE YOU AND I M SCREAMIN AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #WHAT A GOOD STORY DUDE LIKE...SERIOUSLY #but also how dare you end it like that you MONSTER #friend art #fics #ghost jake #submission

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volturialice · 5 years

Text

I voted reqs #1

@heydisneyhiremeplease asked for something about how seth would act if he imprinted on someone! I think after the initial shock, he would Thrive because lbr he’s the ultimate sweetie and would be such an attentive and fun partner.

...but here’s a ficlet about the initial shock because I love Drama ok

relationships: jacob black & seth clearwater

rating: gen

~700 words

notes: set a handful of years post-canon

Of course Jacob finds him right away, even though Seth’s thoughts are broadcasting LEAVE ME ALONE.

Spare me the serious heart-to-heart pep talk, he groans, and can see in Jake’s mind how much he sounds like Leah. Great.

Jacob must sense that the invasion of privacy is too much, because when he comes striding into the trees it’s in human form, with the usual bare feet and hole-y sweats. Seth shakes off his own wolf form and sinks sullenly onto a mossy log, wishing he were rude or stubborn or assertive enough to stay a wolf so he wouldn’t have to have this conversation.

“Leah asked you to come check on me?”

Jake nods, plopping down beside him on the log like it’s an overstuffed La-Z-Boy. “Woulda done it anyway.”

“I’m fine,” says Seth, hating how sulky he sounds. So typically the pack baby, throwing a tantrum because he can’t handle the freaky soul-bond stuff.

“It’s okay if you’re not,” offers Jacob.

Seth picks at a clump of lichens. “I’ve got no right to complain,” he mumbles. “I didn’t break anyone’s heart, or wind up as a babysitter for the next couple decades. I hit the jackpot.” He laughs, a bitter foreign sound. “What Leah wouldn’t give to imprint on a nice, normal, human adult. And here I am, running off into the woods because I can’t even handle that much.”

Jacob shrugs. “It’s a lot to handle,” he says.

Seth heaves a frustrated sigh. “Why does it have to be like this?”

“Honestly? I dunno, kid. I could feed you all that bullshit about genetic compatibility and making the next generation of super-wolves, but I’m not sure I believe it myself.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Imprinting just…happens.”

Right. It just happens that you’re visiting a national park when suddenly the whole world shifts and you find yourself lingering at some random ranger talk, sitting through all these facts you damn well already know about wolves just so you can stay a little longer, keep hearing that warm, low voice, keep seeing the flash of that dimpled smile…

“I know that look,” says Jacob, rolling his eyes. “For someone so worked up about the idea of imprinting, you sure are ready to ditch me for your imprint-ee.”

“It’s not Alex’s fault,” mutters Seth.

“It’s not yours either,” Jake reminds him. “Sometimes I think there’s some god up there playing wolfy matchmaker, and he’s got a deeply fucked up sense of humor.”

“Or he’s just totally plastered,” offers Seth, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Jacob grins back. “There’s our annoying little ray of sunshine. Knew you couldn’t stay upset for long.”

“Yeah, yeah. I told you I’d be okay.”

“‘Course you will. Because the freaky part’s over. You may not have chosen who to imprint on, but you get to choose what happens next. You don’t have to see Alex ever again if you don’t want to.”

Ok, so Seth was mad about the lack of free will involved, but never see Alex again? Even now there’s a little part of his brain going hey, I wonder what Alex is doing. We should check in with Alex. I wonder if those dimples are still as cute as they were a few hours ago. It’s hard to imagine living with that voice, that pull, for the rest of his life and never giving in.

“No, that’s okay,” says Seth a second too fast on the heels of Jacob’s suggestion. “I want to. Just…maybe not right now.”

Jake nods. “Good plan. There are perks to sulking, you know. Edward heard about your existential struggle out here and I’m pretty sure he’s making you cinnamon rolls.”

“Really?” Oh, hell yeah. Seth could seriously use a cinnamon roll right now—or a dozen cinnamon rolls.

Jacob laughs. “Would I lie to you during a serious heart-to-heart pep talk?”

Seth is on his feet in half a second, already shaking with the effort of holding back his wolf form. “Awesome! I’ll race you back!”

Jacob stands up to wriggle out of his sweats, chuckling and shaking his head at Seth’s enthusiasm. “Geez, kid. Anyone would think you’d imprinted on the damn Pillsbury Doughboy.”

#twilight fanfiction #seth clearwater #jacob black #hats off to you for A+ citizenship!#CRUSHING that civic duty #I Voted requests #fic: mine

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ithurtsbutithelps · 6 years

Text

y'know were doing a lot of reliance on a therapist that he had as a small child. the family therapist. did he even see her for his gender letter? like, when's the last time she even saw him?

you wanna know what I think? I think she's doing damage control. I think she's saying what makes enough sense that it'd work for the situation, but most importantly what his family needs to hear to heal.

the idea that he had a plan? he was just waiting for the right time? I think that's fucking bullshit. i think that makes it easier to digest for his folks, and his brother, but i don't think it's the truth.

and I don't think the truth actually MATTERS in most instances, because it's a moot point now. he's fucking dead. what's it matter if he had it all planned out or not, now? just get his parents through the worst of it and be done with it. say what needs to be said.

but if it IS the truth?

if he HAD planned this all out?

...

he woulda needed someone to look after Jake.

...

I still resent the idea that he had this planned in advance because I think it's plain untrue -- he wouldn't've searched methods like he did. he would have known. had it on hand. his fucking notes would have been better. beyond the fact he was obviously dissociating, he would have at least had some basic decency in them instead of the bullshit he wrote down. if he gave it any significant thought in advance it would have been more poetic than it was.

but -- and I don't know if this is the worst part of it, but it definitely makes it worse -- but he couldn't account for what would happen to Jake without an outside actor.

if he planned this. as far as they think he did -- at least a year.

he could have set this up.

i'm not saying he was lying. as much as I resent him right now, I think he did love me. but. I think it's possible that he could have. used me. as insurance. to keep Jake safe when he was gone.

I want to say that he's above that. that what he did in killing himself wasn't him acting -- it was whoever he was when he dissociated. but that relies on the belief that he didn't plan this. if he did? all bets are off. but I don't believe he did. I think it was impulsive. i think he was good when he was himself. I don't think he had it in him to lie to tie me to his sinking ship. but if he DID plan it, I think he could have.

...

I don't think it's necessarily a simple A = B statement. it's an ifthen. If (A), maybe (B). but If And Only If (A).

He could have planned it and also NOT set me up. but if he did, there's a chance he did that too.

and that makes me furious.

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6-phds-and-no-sense · 6 years

Note

gosh i completely understand you on the drifting thing. i remember going into that movie thinking "drifting is so special, i cannot wait to see the bonds that are formed in this movie" but they just threw it around like a cheap trick. everyone was doing it, so easily with each other. it just felt sad and wasted

yeah! I understand not wanting to make it the central tension of the movie the way it was in pacific rim because then we’re just rehashing the same stuff, but I woulda liked something

i think some of it is that they spread out the movie over too many characters? the first movie is mostly about mako/raleigh with a small side of hermann and newt. I think it would’ve worked better had they focused on the jake/mako relationship and maybe not had the cadets? a jake/mako drift would’ve been A+++

I liked the cadets in theory but they’re not given enough time in the movie to really become interesting characters and also uhh pls no child soldiers. i have a lot of feelings about how i would’ve done this but also i don’t actually know anything about makin movies

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cow3survivor · 4 years

Text

Episode 1 Pt. 2: “Playing a Game With A Fresh Slate” - Jessica

SAM

https://youtu.be/gmZlNel3IZM

JESSICA

We did it! We won immunity! Shout out to Sammy for making the flag that won us the advantage and Pete for doing so well in luck! Also in 6 hours or however long it has been since my last confessional, I have decided I do like Sam and we will align. So I guess I want to align with everyone except Madison... hopefully if we lose she is out first!

JABARI

So our tribe is heading to tribal and I'm very nervous because anyone can go atp. I need to make sure that isn't me.

JENNET

we flopped that :(( and i think i may be one of the reasons :( trying my best to not let anybody know im upset but as tribal council looms closer im getting worried

(a little later)

im trying not to throw anybody under the bus but i think that im voting out nash :(( they havent been super active and they havent texted me back since i texted them so it just makes sense to boot them :((

(after eating some rice)

voting out another black woman weighing heavy on me :( i hate that its coming to this

PETE

our tribe had a celebratory discord call which only consisted of like 4 or 5 people but i joined later after everyone left anyways i had a long nice chat with Sam in which i found out he hosts an in person survivor with his friends at home and hes nice ANYWAYS he apparently, like me, is cursed to forever be a premerger. So from here on out i solemnly swear to never vote for Sam during the premerge phase fuck yeah

JAKE

https://youtu.be/aVQKOOrapj0

remind me tomorrow to chill out and take a back seat on the vote lmaooo

PENNINO

Going to tribal i feel like i'm pretty much safe. I feel like that 4 minutes was a good time for the easy jigsaw, but Ethan getting 1.5 minutes is almost impossible. Assessment on my tribemates Jabari: Seems like a nice person, has talked more and has been much more active, I think she has gotten herself off of the chopping block. Jake: Still a nice person, but has lost some activity during yesterday. Possible Ally still Jennet: Nice, active enough, not a target Jones: Not very active. A bit of a target. I will most probably to vote her to be say. Lindsay: Very active, we talk to each other a lot, nice person, possible ally Mikey: Nice person, nothing much, not a target Nash: ˆˆˆ Nicole: ˆˆˆ, but not as active Silver: Active, nice person, but he doesn't respond to my dm's that much, but, still, a possible ally. I feel pretty good about this tribal honestly

JONES

https://youtu.be/2UtH-dnv0i4

SAM

https://youtu.be/lzZOK2CxsA4

MIKEY

WELL HELLO LADIES. SO SO SO SO SO! Instead of rambling Ill just get on with it. Starting off, Me and Nash REALLY freaking connected. Like they’re so fun to talk to!! BUT. They’ve been inactive. and so Pennino is now going around spreading their name, and basically everyone is saying sure why not. This SUCKS because Me and Jabari wanted to make an alliance with them and jake, but now we are faced with a problem. We both have basically decided that instead of Nash we are gonna drag in Peppino. I brought that idea up because me and him are both the youngest people in the game, and I really wanna go far with Peppino. My goal this season is to beat a bunch of adults and make them feel angry that a 15 year old outsmarted them. Its so funny! Anyways besides that, Im feeling good about that 4. I wish it wasn't Nash going home, considering the only other name out was Jones, and I woulda much rather did her, but you know that's how the cards fall I guess. A bad bitch is done with tonights confessional. A bad bitch is now gonna press submit. A bad bitch says GOODBYE ASF!

SILVER

https://youtu.be/JLwZRNesRHI

LINDSAY

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1YF3mYJfYIq_2Qco8EQYq3JowyMSbin8M/view?usp=sharing

NASH

im crying i have no idea whats going on!!! HKDHEJDHW all i know is talk to mikey and play 8 ball with nicole

(a little later)

ETHAN

Charan's Hot Confessional Questions

<a:dance:777952213808447519> 1. Give us a Trust Rankings of your tribemates! Who are you bonding with the most? Who are you bonding with the least? I trust Shane the most, and right now that’s because he is the only person that is actively strategizing. Besides that, I feel the most amicable with Jessica, lovealis, and Daisy who are wonderful people. Unfortunately both Cloud and Madison have made 0 effort with me and are generally inactive with me. <a:dance:777952213808447519> 2. Have any alliances formed on your tribe? If so, how loyal are you to these alliances? If not, do you think there are alliances out there that don't include you? There are no alliances that I’m in that have been formed, but I suspect there are some out there. Alliances without me are ok, I just need to know about them, and if there are any right now, I don’t know about them, and that’s concerning. <a:dance:777952213808447519> 3. How did your first Safari experience/run go! Did you get any closer to finding an idol? I WILL NEVER FIND ANYTHING IN A LUCK BASED SYSTEM <a:dance:777952213808447519> 4. Explain why Ryan and Charan are hotter than you A fact of life... these two slay.

LOVELIS

So things are going okay on the tribe so far! The first immunity win was rather nice & I like being able to have a bit more time to read people until were thrown into the pressure of a tribal. So far I’m definitely clicking the most with Shane and then probably Jessica but the time zones are getting in the way a little - just glad I have more time to really click with people and try and cement a place for me in this tribe. I think my contributions to the challenges have definitely helped my standing but not everybody is being super social with me so that’s a little bit of a worry - just gonna have to go ham at bothering people in private messages until they respond I suppose! 🤪

MADISON

Hi beautiful humans!!! I wish I had tea for y'all but we've won 2 challenges in a row and I really don't see the grind stopping in the foreseeable future so the tribe is kinda just vibing which gives me a little bit more time to build relationships which is a blessing and a half. I always get extremely paranoid the first week in games so the fact that I know for certain I won't be first boot is amazing!!! Tribe bonding is scheduled for tonight so hopefully by next round I'll have an alliance or 2 (maybe even the idol if I'm feeling really lucky)

JENNET

Last night really lit up a light in me. it sounds like everybody wants to work with me which is good so im now newly excited to play the game

SAMMY

okay okay okay so I would do a full out cast assessment but I literally just can not do that rn...so let's talk about who I vibe with most and who I have made like strong connections with so far! Initially, both Daisy and Jess have declared I am someone they really want to work with which is perfect for me because I want to work with them as well. I know daisy is going to be such a great competitor and I want to be on her side 100% but same with jess...im such a loyal bitch okay!! Me and Kiki really bonded over that logic puzzle so she went up in my rankings (as if she was ever low to begin with) I am not sure how well me/Pete/Nicole(opposite tribe) are gonna mesh...like I really hope me and Nicole can come together this game but I know we are just gonna end up being paranoid of each other but I love her so much. I REALLY WANTED TO BE ON A TRIBE WITH NASH AND JENNET I luv their vibes so much. okay back to my tribe tho, we won reward #mwah! I put so much effort into that because I just knew if we were to go to tribal that's an easy thing under my belt I could use as a "omg u need me for challenges". I noticed I was coming on a little too strong and presenting myself as a leader which I don't think really hurt me I think it made more people realize they should talk to me KHFBHIS. Umm okay so I love lovelis even tho he is not very active but I just know we will have each others backs for a bit. I connected well with Shane and Ethan very early and they just seem so sweet. I think if we would have went to tribal sam/lovelis/Pete could have been in danger. I would have preferred sam cause he isn't that active but he did help out some with the flag work. ANYWAYS this was not my best confessional but I do want to point out I FOUND A VOTE BLOCK SO HOLLLLLLAAAAAA! we are using this as a way to gain peoples trust so I told daisy and jess to strengthen those relationships mhmm

NASH

me pretending to be surprised that ppl wanted to vote me out first because i was kinda inactive.... i thought survivor would be different 💔

JENNET

not me being targeted for being a pretty black girl with a juicy fat ass *sad face emojis*

(a little later)

its tribal council and im shaking and im nervous, this could go horribly wrong or this could go super right

TRIBAL COUNCIL

youtube

SILVER EXIT INTERVIEW

youtube

#cowsurvivor #confessionals

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abundantchewtoys · 4 years

Text

Homestuck^2 re: Chapter 7 “Distress Call From the Closet“

So, I assume the action will jump back to Vriska, Vrissy & Tavros. The call is going to be directed to Harry Anderson, though I wonder how he'd be able to help them out of the closet.

Some sleight of hand magic? A distraction outside of the school building?

---

Page 171

Ahahaahahahh.

Vriska's loving the thrill. Tavros is just experiencing his first real brush with death, and apparently is mostly confused by it. :P Meanwhile Vrissy's mostly annoyed and trying not to get further into danger by having her phone ring for all to hear.

So, yeah, and Harry Anderson must now acknowledge everything Vrissy said as true - including the presence of OG Vriska, who he just heard.

---

Page 172

Ahahahah, yes, that's what I was thinking too - Vrissy and Vriska must sound exactly alike. It's only their manner of speech that sets them apart.

So Vriska imitating Vrissy here is comedy gold.

And yes, the odds are indeed 50/50 Rose and Kanaya would either very much Approve or Disapprove of what they were just a part of. Granted, once they see Vriska (OG) has resurfaced, they should actually realize who's the instigator of the whole mess.

---

Page 173

Pfffffff. From John's fridge, Gamzee's made the valiant 16 year trip through time to end up dead... in a janitor closet. Also, regarding last page - what the fuck was Gamzee even doing being a troll figurehead while in a relationship with the human tyrant. It made no sense.

Also, poor Tavros. He was just externalizing things until now. He'll have no way but to accept the reality now. Well, not that he REALLY minded Gamzee's death, I think.

---

Page 175

!!!!!! Finally!!!!

Troll Rebel Leaders Karkat and Meenah! Oh gosh I want to see if they're truly in a relationship. Though eesh, that looks like a bleak situation, all those bodies & ruins.

...

"Ordeals"? So the trolls had to withstand ANOTHER set of trials to get off-planet? Ugh.

... Pfff, yes, Karkat's PR is very good, but unfortunately for the man, he still has to actually LIVE as a rebel leader every day.

I'm really interested in how Karkat looks as an adult. The description in the epilogues was already tantilizing. ... I wonder if trolls can grow beards. Karkat would definitely rock a goatee.

---

Page 176

Oh my god they're comedy gold.

Meenah just plays off his asine side so well, hahah. They're even achieved Dave-level excellence at rehashing arguments, it seems.

So Karkat actually would rather be an active leader than a figurehead. Seems he's at least developping SOME idea of how he could lead, good for him! Still, his "symbology", hah, the Cancer sign is another sign of rebellion.

Hah, and they recognize Vriska, but apparently being 23 years removed from her through time has numbed them a bit to the idea of a loose Serket on the field and what she could get up to.

"MEENAH: well we woulda taken credit for it anyway so this saves us the time MEENAH: thanks jane owe u one"

Perfection.

I wonder if they'll send an agent after the trio. Swifer perhaps? :P

---

Page 177

Lol. So it appears the trolls that followed Gamzee's cult blame Jane's government for the event. Well then. Pfff, they even call her the batterwitch.

So it appears both sides are going to use this turn of events to their advantage.

But Karkat had a better plan lined up it seems, was trying to sway public opinion. Alas, maybe it was just never to be. Jane controls the media, after all.

---

Page 178

Oooooooh! What is Karkat's plan.

Is he trying to make John endorse the troll side of things? What an idea, that he might take Jake's place in the grand scheme, and be the one with the biggest sway.

I don't think he suddenly thought of how John used to say things like the timeline didn't matter. Not sure he even was around for those events.

---

Page 179

Oh wow, we're actually going to see John here :D Dear god.

So, Roxy lives by the water, and her house resembles her old one. Her car is pink, but of course.

And Harry Anderson has an ostentatious getaway car all of his own. I wonder what it looks like - something to do with his interests? Would be interesting to see! (In before pogo ride car.)

I don't suppose this scene is the one that played out near the end of the epilogues - Harry Anderson wouldn't really be up for a car ride if his friends are about to show up, right?

---

Page 180

.... Awwwwwww, it IS! That's beautiful. Yeah, actually, between family and friends, it's hard picking. I understand fully Harry Anderson. You go take care now.

Cool that we got an actual link BACK to an epilogue page, though! Didn't think we'd mix mediums like THAT, actually.

Awesome we finally get to see Adult John in the flesh, it's taken 180 pages.

---

Page 181

Ahahahahaha, Harry Anderson's texting during the drive. He's sent his mom out on an errand, so the kids will end up

...

WAIT FOR IT.

...

Homestuck. 8)

Home alone.

"the funniest shit he's ever done", pfffff. So weird to have such a different view on John. A valid one, for sure, but such a different one.

---

Page 182

She changed outfits! Now Roxy REALLY looks like Mom.

... Do not mind the sneak(er)s in the bushes.

Roxy probably was okay with going out so Harry Anderson would be content on his return. She knows it'll be an emotional affair.

---

Page 183

... Pffff, poor, poor Tavros. Still, Vrissy actually had a very good reason not to want to meet up at his place, like ever.

... The next command oh my god.

We're definitely in Act 1 - like escapades now.

Of course, the room HAS to examine itself - there's no one in it yet! :O

---

Page 184

Uuuuuuuuuhhhh....

That isn't Harry Anderson's room, is it?

Unless he likes to dress up, of course!

I see a lot of movie posters, both troll & human. (Hi, Pokémon!)

Lot's of shoes & hats, some boots. The window looks like the one in Rose's old room, in fact. So, like, is it Roxy's? Or someone else's entirely?

...

Woooow.

I see.

Musical theaters, huh? Ambitious and lofty goals! And hey, at least it overlaps with both of his parents' interests a bit! Well, needling was an interest of Rose (after John gave her the needling sticks), but still, I think Roxy's good at it too.

And of course his friends do not really share his interests, just like old times.

---

Page 185

Sprites for Vrissy and Tavros! Awesome. His hair is really slick.

... Good thinking Tav, yes, Jane would definitely be able to track you through your phone.

---

Page 186

Teenage horseshittery stops for no mortal terror. :D

Filters? In my Homestuck? The odds are higher than you'd think!

PPPPpPffffff, so, I was convinced Vriska was going to steal a hat, but she's actually trying out all the scarfs. Vriska: Accessorize.

---

Page 187

Oooooh boy. Vrissy's getting kind of self conscious now, with Vriska around. The girl needs to figure some things out about her life on the double, or the Serket's going to tear it all apart at the seams.

(Also, of course Vriska will keep the teal scarf/bandana.)

---

Page 188

Awwww yeah, there he is. The young man of the bedroom. Right, he has a scarf too.

Heehee, the idea that Harry Anderson had to confess his deepest truths to keep John from finding out about the shit his friends are in. ... He probably did so because John'd know Harry Anderson would be or get involved, I guess.

It's so great to see both Tavros and Harry Anderson so supportive of Vrissy. And semi-supportive of each other Shows what a healthy troll romantic polyamorous relationship can look like!

---

Page 189

There he is. The man, the myth, the legend. So cool to see him like this.

So, wait, I just realized. What phone is John even receiving Karkat's buzzing on? Since Vriska took his phone. Maybe he truly has taken a page out of Jade's book and has 5 different computing devices on him at all times. Like a sensible person.

But what's even better, is that instead of Karkat chewing him out over his ignorance first, he actually directs John to watch the news. Hilarious that apparently, most of the time, Harry Anderson is the instigator of the messes Tavros and Vrissy find themselves in.

Now to see John's reaction at Gamzee's demise.

---

Page 190

Well, I didn't think GIDDY would describe his reaction, but here we are!

...

Hahahahhah, John realizes Harry Anderson knew. And he thinks the whole thing is HILARIOUS. PFfffffff

Does he think that maybe this is the pivotal moment that could launch this timeline back into relevance? :P

I think it might also be such a wild scene it genuinely serves as a release for a lot of that pent-up darkness in him, through laughter.

The most mirthful thing Gamzee has ever been responsible for, basically.

---

Page 191

Wooow.

John has RESOLVE now.

He's really going to try to take on Jane's regime together with Karkat, isn't he? :D This gonna be good.

John's gotten a second wind after patching things a bit up with Roxy and Harry Anderson. (Still, I'm sad some of the deep, personal stuff Harry Anderson had to share wasn't shown, but oh well.)

Time for him to get his act together! I like it when John goes all out. Even when just described in text, like Meat John vs Lord English, or Candy John vs Jade in Tavros' room.

Next chapter seems like it could focus on Rose and Kanaya, so things'll stay focused on the Candy path a little longer. Me like.

#homestuck #vriska maryam lalonde #vriska serket #tavros english #john egbert #harry anderson egbert #karkat vantas #meenah peixes #reaction #homestuck^2 #liveblogging homestuck #candy earth c

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sometimesrosy · 7 years

Text

the 100 rewatch 1.08 Daytrip

my real life friend I just got back into contact with just decided to give The 100 a try. (this is the friend who introduced me to GOT ten years ago.) So I got so excited by her reports of 2.01 that I realized I had been slacking in my rewatch. Wow. I’m supposed to be on season 2 now for our bellarke fam rewatch. bad fangirl. So lets get to bidness.

oh it’s day trip!

I love this scene where Miller acts like a dick to chained Lincoln and Lincoln headbutts him. I always laugh. (and yet the parallel in season 3 where Miller acts like a dick to him while he’s in lockup and then gives him medicine for the sick grounder is a GREAT contrast and awesome character and plot development.)

Bellamy is very certain about not killing Lincoln though. Which is a change for his character up to this point.

Clarke talking to the council about how they are going to freeze before they starve. And Kane’s hair gel is gone. Costume signified character development. She’s talking to Jaha about killing her dad being an unavoidable tragedy and how she doesn’t see it that way and won’t ever. That’s an interesting bit, considering how far she went later. (And yet couldn’t kill Bellamy for the same reason as Jaha had.)

Clarke wants Bellamy to go on a DAY TRIP WITH HER. “Why are YOU asking ME?” “Well because right now I don’t feel like being around anyone I actually like.” Oh you two crazy kids. You’re so cute.

oh it’s the jobi nuts. i love the jobi nuts. Jonty hi five!

Ugh Finn. how about i just not write about any of his scenes. You don’t deserve Clarke OR Raven. Although I like Bellamy coming in to take Clarke away from him. Haha.

Bellamy’s last look at his sister, or so he thinks because he’s planning to run. And Dax coming after him.

Lincoln speaking English to Octavia, macking on the pretty girl while tied up and bloody. Look at these abs girl. “Tell them you’re not the enemy.” “I am.” Sadly this is true. He knows his people are out to destroy them. AND he thinks it’s wrong. But he can’t make this choice yet.

Bellamy angry about shooting Jaha and Clarke trying to talk him down. The jaha thing is why he was so angry. He discards his enmity with Clarke after the Jaha pardon happens. I mean there was more, but that was part of it.

Raven and Octavia. Raven tortures Lincoln and feels no remorse. Octavia says Finn likes Clarke. Bitch vs Bitch. I love it.

[finn raven sex scene. deleted. don’t you fucking grin at her. you don’t deserve her bitch.]

me ugh-ing at the murderer dax. not all delinquents are bunny rabbits. he’s a bad dude.

Bellamy so angry at the failed bunker. No supplies. SO HE KICKS A BARREL (always taking it out on unsuspecting barrels.) AND THEN the joy of a rare Bellamy smile. GUNS.

The delinquents are high.* ALERT* The delinquents are high.

aww poor jasper and his ptsd, starting with grounder fear. :( He’s holding a spear. Anti grounder stick. Octavia has figured this out. How does she know how to deal with a bad trip? You don’t get that knowledge isolated under the floor. Or maybe bellamy told her about kids tripping. he probably would.

Bellamy’s chewing jobi nuts. The gun lesson. Getting close. Touching her shoulder. “Yeah, uh, that’s good,” as he gets too close to her. That is the BEST scene. his bullets are duds. “still watching,” she says teasing him. Another Bellamy smile. A Clarke smile too, for that matter. She figures out that he’s going to run. He’s afraid. AND he mentions that he is planning to lock up Lincoln for the rest of his life. Not kill.

Oh here comes the bad trip. Peek inside Bellamy’s head.Guilt over Jaha. Guilt over the 320 souls culled from the Ark. “It’s not my forgiveness you should seek, it’s theirs.” Murderer,murderer, murderer, And peek inside Clarke’s head. Jake. Solitary confinement. forgiveness. Forgiveness is such a giant theme. (she doesn’t know that the exodus ship will crash and for a while she thinks her mom is dead. this is before she learns about forgiving people. I think she learns her lesson too well and forgives people for things they are not actually sorry for.

Wow Raven has a pretty naked back. Finn you suck. Monty I like your concern with the cooperation of the tides.

Octavia freeing Lincoln. Lincoln kissing Octavia. Mack daddy.

You are the most beautiful of brooms in a broom closet of brooms. (he dies later. murphy does it. Connor.) Finn sees Lincoln and lets him go.

More Bellamy trip. “I can’t fight anymore.” “DOn’t you know life is a fight? Live. Breathe. Suffer. You owe them that. If you want the peace of death you’re going to have to earn it. Fight back! You think you deserve to be free of your pain? Do you deserve that gift.” (These are Bellamy’s own thoughts, not Jaha.)

Clarke rescues Bellamy from Jax. Bellamy says Shumway set it up. They save each other. Bellamy’s first kill. Jax with a bullet in the carotid, “Bellamy are you okay?”

“No I’m not. If my mother knew what I’d done, who I am... she raised me to be better, to be good. And all I do is hurt people. I’m a monster.”

I need you--Bellamy’s look at her is where I started shipping them-- we all need you-- and how disappointed his is that it wasn’t HIM she needed.

Clarke doesn’t recognize that his belief that he is a monster is real. She will feel it later. Her forgiveness is too

“All I think about every day is how we’re going to keep everyone alive. But we don’t have a choice.” Is this where he wants to run away with her? Woulda been a different story.

I don’t understand why people ignore this whole scene of Bellamy’s pain and guilt over the deaths he’s caused. They think he’s a monster because he’s anguished by what he’s done, and calls himself a monster. But monsters, by definition are not agonized by the pain they cause. The people who cause harm, and then say it wasn’t their fault, in fact it was YOUR fault for fighting back or winning.... well THOSE are the monsters. They don’t care about the suffering they cause. And they’ll do it again.

Also please note that he credits Aurora with teaching him to be good. Yeah she was not perfect. Yeah she gave him too much responsibility. But she was NOT an absent mother. She was not neglectful. As far as we know there’s no evidence of physical abuse. If you want to believe that it was unfair to Bellamy to give birth to Octavia, that’s fine. Nothing about their life is fair. That’s the point, isn’t it? It was completely oppressive and unjust. Anyone born into this life was up for hell. But hope remains when people have children. It just does. Having a second child, even though it makes their lives harder, (which happens in real life) is not enough to count as abuse and places all the blame of an unjust society on the victims of that society. Which pisses me the hell off. (OH, if only you didn’t make the wrong choices, then this oppression would be just fine. How dare you. You should be jailed for it. You’re an abuser. It’s your fault.) Shut the hell up with your victim blaming.

Power couple on deck. Have some guns kids. (shut up finn)

I don’t expect you to forgive me, but you’ll have to ind a way to live with me because Im not going anywhere.” Some foreshadowing for the blake sibling relationship.

Jaha pardon. This was the point when I could not be saved from shipping Bellarke. I love the way they smile together.

Bye Shumway. Kane definitely does not wear hair gel anymore. Here comes hair Jesus.

nope. no finn in my recap. not even with your bellamy besmirching. She trusts him not you. so shut up. he deserves it. you don’t. you were not trustworthy. that’s how that works.

hello diana sydney. bye shumway.

#the 100 rewatch #the 100 rewatch 2017 #day trip #yay!

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peralta-guaranteed · 3 years

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hc or ficlet of teddy proposing you amy again but this time jake decides enough is enough

(Read it on AO3)

“You’re probably wondering why I called you here.” Charles says in a deep, low voice.

“Are we not just having drinks?” Jake asks as he hands Rosa her beer and Charles his fruity rosé-tinted cocktail with a berry garnish.

“No! There are far more pressing matters at hand!”

Jake and Rosa clink their bottles together before the first sip, waiting for Charles to continue on his dramatic tangent, as he needs to do sometimes.

“Amy is going to a seminar in Staten Island next week.” He gives them both a deep stare.

“You might be surprised, bud, but I do know that.”

“Teddy is also going to that seminar.”

Jake stops mid-drink.

“I did not know that.”

“Neither does Amy.” Rosa cuts in. “Or she definitely woulda mentioned it.”

“He’s actually attended this seminar twice before, so I deduced that he’s not going for the learning material this time.” Charles leans back almost triumphantly.

“Yeah, it really doesn’t take a detective to figure that out.” Jake is trying to keep busy peeling the label off of his bottle, but Rosa can tell he’s clearly failing. There’s a furrow in his brow she’s rarely ever seen before.

“We have to stop him! He’s going to propose again, or do something romantic, or make a call-back to the seminar where they met, and Amy’s gonna get all confused-”

“My wife of four years and mother of my son is going to get confused by an unstable ex?” Jake’s voice is - bitter, Rosa thinks, is the best way to describe it, and she doesn’t think she’s ever heard that tone from him. Neither has Charles, it seems, because he backpedals immediately.

“Well, no, but- I mean- Amy is going to be upset- she’s been looking forward to that seminar and Teddy is going to ruin it!” He sputters, and Rosa can’t help but nod.

“And what do you suggest we do about that? We can’t keep Teddy from attending a work-thing, and I’m not going to stop Amy from going.”

“We can- we could kidnap Teddy just for the week, and then-”

“Kidnap a police officer.” Rosa interrupts again. “Because that’s gonna go over so well with the authorities.”

“Well then Jake can go to the seminar as well, and punch him out if he tries anything-”

“Yeah, because Holt’s totally not gonna be suspicious when Jake asks to go to a seminar that doesn’t involve some action training.” Rosa quips.

“I’m also not that big a fan of the idea of punching a man for, like, talking to my wife.” Jake grumbles, the label of his beer now completely gone, and only half-sounds convincing.

“It would be for love!” “It would be fucking creepy, is what it would be. Like I’m laying claim to some property or something in the most machismo-asshole way possible.”

“Yeah.” Rosa nods. “Amy’s a grown woman, she can tell him to fuck off herself, and she’s done it before. She doesn’t need us to bring chaos to her ‘fun’ little seminar.” She does sarcastic finger quotes around ‘fun’, but she also does know how much Amy is looking forward to this boring thing again - it’s her first time away from Mac on her own, and she’s planned her own trip just as meticulously as she’s planned for Jake’s stay with the kid, as if he has never taken care of his own child before, and kept her up to date on all of it in case she needs to jump in and help in any situation (which she won’t, but she might go over for a playdate anyway, just to see her godson).

Charles grumbles a bit more, something about ‘true love’ and ‘knights in shining armour’, but he drops the subject before their first round is finished and they can actually spend a nice evening together.

-*-

Rosa hands Jake a beer in return, once Charles has called it quits for the night because he has to go say goodnight to Nikolaj (Jake facetimed Amy and Mac instead and promised he’d be home soon, to which Amy rolled her eyes and said ‘Sure, babe. Tell Rosa to keep you out longer for some fun, please.’ the same way he had when Rosa had picked her up for a girls night two weeks ago).

“You okay?” She asks as she watches him peel the edge of the label almost immediately.

“Charles has really gotten into my head. I hate it when that happens.” He sighs as he lets go of the paper and drinks instead.

“Again: Amy’s a grown woman.”

“I know.” He’s fiddling with the label again after just one sip. “It’s just that all this Teddy-shit really does upset her. I mean, not in the ‘confused’ way like Charles said, which is bullshit.” The furrow is back for a second, Rosa notes. “But like… she just mulls it over in her head so much and it makes her feel like shit even if she won’t say it. I think the stunts he pulled at our wedding bothered her more than the whole thing actually being cancelled.”

Rosa nods as she takes her own first sip. She remembers Amy’s face when she realised Teddy was also at that stroller-contest thing she dragged her to. She remembers her face when they finally drove back to the precinct together too. She knows her friend, and if there’s anyone who knows her even better, it’s obviously Jake.

“So we gotta prevent that somehow.” She tries to continue the conversation without delving into Charles-level shenanigan-planning.

“”I just don’t want Amy’s first time off from Mac to suck because of some inconsiderate asshole. But I can’t exactly go along with her like Charles suggested, I have a kid to take care of, and also that idea is kinda insane.”

“Guess I gotta make sure it doesn’t suck, then.” Rosa finishes her beer and tries to ignore Jake’s gobsmacked stare at her. She doesn’t know when it happened, but at some point, apparently, she’s become willing to attend a boring seminar for Santiago.

-*-

Howzit goin

learn to write like an adult Peralta

also your wife will not stop talking about your kid

you love him

I do

but I don’t need updates on his bathing habits

no Teddy sightings yet but we’re also way too early because Amy. Keep you posted

Jake smiles at the text chain on his phone and makes a mental note to send her a picture of Mac in the tub later tonight, just to annoy her a bit more. Amy had handed the baby over to him at the precinct like she was going on a year-long world-cruise instead of just a five day overnight stay in another part of their own city, and Rosa had been standing behind her with her travel bag, rolling her eyes.

It had taken surprisingly little to convince both Amy and Holt that Rosa was actually interested enough in the seminar to join it at the last minute, and Amy had immediately included her in her itinerary, as well as offered to drive with her so she didn’t have to carry all her luggage on her motorcycle. Jake was going to owe her so, so many favours after all this.

The Mac-inna-tub picture only gets a grumbling emoji response, but she texts him again at around 9, when Mac is already fast asleep and he’s finally turned on Die Hard at the lowest possible volume to not wake him up again.

Teddy showed up

tried to say Hi (or worse) to Amy but I stared him away

going out for first day drinks with the group. I’ll keep him away. Maybe slip something into his drink.

why do I not question you having something to slip into drinks?

I can do more than just knives

don’t stay up all night watching all Die Hards. You gotta take Mac to daycare early tomorrow

Amy told me to tell you that

sure

and it’s only Die Hard 1 tonight

gonna spread them out over all the evenings

got one night left if you skip 4

The Holiday is on Netflix

you’re a good one Peralta

There’s no more updates until 11am the next morning, long after Mac has gone to daycare right on time, as he’s informed Amy via text to calm her down, and he was at the precinct only 15 minutes late this time.

Teddy pulled out the big guns

he had an actual ring this time. Looked expensive

There’s a sinking feeling in his chest, and he wonders what he should answer before his phone pings again.

I broke the ring

and the box

also his hand (‘accident’ - have to say that for liability)

anyway he’s out of the seminar now I guess because he can’t write anymore

so no need to worry

Jake tries to suppress his grin by biting his lip as he texts her back, Charles already getting a bit suspicious over him smiling at his phone constantly two desks over. He can probably explain it away by claiming he’s been messaging Amy, instead.

You’re my goddamn queen, Diaz

Amy is

but I definitely own your ass now too since I have to spend 4 more days in this shit place for you

There’s very few updates the rest of the week (apart from several pics of Amy either working, drinking, or lying hungover in bed in their shared hotel room - Rosa has resolved to make the whole boring thing a whole lot less boring, it seems) even as he keeps texting both ladies with Mac-updates and Mac-pictures.

Amy is all smiles and definitely not upset when they get back to the precinct and he’s already there to pick her up and hand the baby to his excited mama, and even Rosa spares a smile for the two Peralta-boys after the week she’s had.

He sidles up to her as Amy coos over her little boy giving her a hug and hello kisses.

“I really do owe you one, Rosa. Thanks.” “Dude, you owe me several.” She growls. “At least I won’t have to do that ever again. I’d say Teddy’s out of the picture now.”

“Because of one broken hand?”

“Yeah, I visited him in the hospital when he was getting his cast on. To ‘apologise’ for the injury.” Rosa grins, and even her sarcastic finger quotes seem intimidating. “Not even he’s that stupid to try and come back.”

Jake raises his fist, and Rosa reluctantly bumps it before both turn their attention back to Amy, who’s already chatting about weekend plans and offering Rosa a ride home. She takes the offer, if only to play peek-a-bo with Mac in the backseat.

#b99 #brooklyn 99 #peraltiago #jake peralta #amy santiago #rosa diaz #ficlet #my writing #academy dholes

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