#moon divorce people come get more juice

[subzeroparade]

not actually part of my personal headcanon but i like to rotisserie the concept in my brain from time to time

[keanureevesisbae]

Coach Cavill - Chapter 9

Summary: Before they go to the autumn market, Amelia, Benji, Isabella and Henry have to talk about what happened the day before.

Coach!Henry Cavill x Amelia Jung (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 6.3k

Warnings: None

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

I wake up before the kids do, as I usually do. I mean, maybe it’s a habit that I adopted back in Korea, because in the first fifteen years of my life, I wasn’t able to function properly before ten in the morning. However, during my trainee days and when I was still in Forever Hope, that meant starting the day at six in the morning. You had to eat breakfast, get ready for the day, dance practice, singing lessons, improving my Korean, going to the gym. By the time I moved back, my biological alarm goes off at six a.m. and I always get up then, since I can’t help but to get up early.

This habit comes in very handy, as I’m a mother now.

I take a quick shower, get myself ready for the day and I catch myself putting in extra effort for my appearance. I put on a little blush, put on some light lipstick and I spend a lot of time on my hair. I descend downstairs, where I make myself a cup of tea, before I plop on the coach. I think I only got one hour of sleep at the end of the night, because I kept worrying. Worrying about what this might to do Benji and Isabella. How the dynamics will change between them and their father.

Oh no, I haven’t even thought about how this will go over in town. I remember when the people in Luna Meadows got ear of what happened between Dean, me and how Mindy Simpleton was involved. However, that barely had anything to do with the kids. To some extent, of course it had something to do with the kids, but it was mostly about me and Dean. This however, is between Dean, Mindy and my kids.

Tears burn in my eyes, the same tears I have been holding every single time I looked over at my kids while they were asleep. Why does everything has to be so complicated? Why did I have to get divorced in this manner? It’s not that I have anything against divorce, but I just wished that it was one where Dean and I just fell out of love, but we still had the kids best interest in mind. That we would work together, just like we did when we were still together.

But that is not the case, not at all.

My phone rings, indicating I have received a message and I look at the screen. My heart starts to race, my hands all of the sudden get really clammy. Henry is already texting me? It’s only seven in the morning…

Henry: I hope I’m not waking you up, but I was wondering what time the Jungs would like their breakfast? 🤗

I let out a small chuckle, as the tears of either sadness or happiness—I don’t know at this point—run over my cheeks again. The fact that he uses an adorable emoji, one that is my favorite too… I don’t even know how this makes me feel.

Amelia: I’m up already, so whenever you want.

Henry: The place opens up at seven thirty. I can come right after I picked it up?

Amelia: Sounds good.

Henry: Want some cappuccino with that as well?

Amelia: You know me too well

Henry: I’ll bring you a cappuccino and I think Benji could use some coffee. How about I also bring some smoothies with me for whoever wants to?

Amelia: Just make sure the smoothie doesn’t have pineapple in it. Isabella is allergic to that.

Henry: Noted

Amelia: Please bring the receipt, so I can pay you back

Henry: You can pay me back with your presence, Amelia. That’s good enough.

Henry: I mean that

I lean back on the sofa, as I let out a deep sigh. Time slowly passes, as I continue to sulk over this. When I just started dating Dean, I never thought about having kids and neither did Dean. When I missed my period, Dean actually went to the store, to buy me some tests. They were all positive and despite being terrified, we both were also over the moon. It felt complete and I was so happy, just like Dean. We were going to be parents and he promised me that he would be there every step of the way.

As I told Henry on our date, I had to recover quite a few years after I had Benji, before I even dared to have another child. I wanted two kids, wanted that my firstborn had a companion, someone that no matter what happened to Dean and I, was there for them. But after two kids, I knew that it was enough for me. I have no desire to expand my family and I thought that even after the divorce, he would keep his promise to me: no more kids for us.

But Dean is doing what he promised me we wouldn’t do. I know that it’s unfair to want him to keep his promise…

I remember his face when Isabella was born. He missed the birth, being unable to get out of his meeting in time. It was rough, it was painful and unexpected and I so wished he was there with me. But he looked so happy, as he was holding Isabella in his arm, sitting down next to me on the hospital bed. ‘I’m so sorry that I wasn’t here,’ he whispered. ‘But thank you for this beautiful human being.’

I leaned against his shoulder, nuzzling my face in his shoulder. ‘I don’t think we should have more kids,’ I told him. ‘Unless you want me dead.’ I couldn’t believe that Eve tried to tell me that the second time giving birth would be easier and worse: that I blindly believed her. ‘Two is enough, don’t you think?’

He softly chuckled, visibly scared to wake her up. ‘I do think that two is enough. I love you, princess,’ he told me, kissing my temple. ‘I’ll forever do that.’

What a fucking liar.

The doorbell rings, snapping me out of my thoughts. I quickly jump up and rush to the door. When I open it, I see Henry with some bags in his hand, Kal—who is excitingly wagging his tail—standing right next to him. ‘Good morning,’ he says with a smile. ‘Kal and I come bearing gifts in the form of breakfast.’

I want to say something, want to be polite or funny or at least grateful, but I can’t seem to find the words.

Except tears.

‘Oh, no,’ Henry says, placing the bags on the porch. ‘Come here.’ He holds out his strong and protective arms and I don’t even think a second letting myself being engulfed in his arms. ‘You look exhausted,’ he notes.

‘I am,’ I mumble. ‘I don’t think I have slept more than an hour last night.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ he whispers. ‘Let’s get breakfast settled, okay? You drink the cappuccino while Kal keeps you company. I can make myself at home and set the table. How about that?’

‘I don’t want you to think that I only invited you so you can serve as my butler or anything.’

He holds onto my shoulders, so he can look me into my eyes and says: ‘I know that is not your intention and nor is that the case here.’

‘Thanks once again,’ I say, placing my hands on his. ‘You’re amazing.’

‘Not a single problem.’

He grabs the bags, before I step to the side to let him and Kal in. We walk to the kitchen and he hands me my cappuccino. This is exactly what I need. I lean against the kitchen island, as Kal presses his cold wet nose against my hand, urging me to pet him. ‘Henry,’ I say, to gain his attention. ‘I’m sorry about yesterday.’

‘Don’t,’ he says, in a tone a lot sterner than I have ever heard him use before and Amelia, I swear, don’t let your mind wander. ‘Don’t you dare feel sorry about it, not even for a second.’

I’m not listening. ‘I’m not just apologizing for last night’s events,’ I say. ‘I’m especially apologizing for that kiss. I shouldn’t have done that.’

‘Why not?’ Henry asks, placing the smoothies on the table, checking the labels again.

I shrug, but he isn’t looking at me, so I add: ‘I don’t know, felt… Wrong. Weird. Too much too soon.’

‘Well, if this eases your mind: I don’t think it felt wrong, weird or too much too soon.’ Henry smiles, causing my stomach to twist in a way that I forgot that was pleasant and I smile back at him. When was the last time I felt like this? ‘And besides, I didn’t mind it one single second.’

Maybe it’s a good thing I hear two sets of footsteps storming down the stairs, so I don’t have to think about an answer for this. ‘Coach!’ Isabella yells, before rushing up to him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he crouched down for her. ‘You’re here! For what?’

‘I brought breakfast,’ he says to her. ‘I have four smoothies and you can pick the first one, how about that?’

She smiles brightly. ‘Really?’

‘Really,’ Henry confirms.

She looks over at me with a hopeful and happy smile on her face. It’s such a change from yesterday. ‘Mom, I get to pick the first smoothie.’

‘Make the choice worth while,’ I say with a smile.

Isabella’s eyes fall on Kal. She jumps a little, as Kal trots over to her, pressing his cold nose against her cheek, causing her to squeal.

Benji carefully approaches. ‘Hi coach,’ he says.

‘Hi Benji, slept well?’

‘I did,’ he answers. ‘Thank you.’ He stands next to me, lets out a long sigh and then says: ‘Good morning, mom.’

‘Good morning honey. I’m glad to hear you slept well.’

He nods. ‘Did you?’ My silence must be his answer. ‘I’m sorry. I think Isabella and I both forgot how this situation must be tough for you too.’

Henry looks over his shoulder, as one corner of his mouth curls up as he looks over at us. I sometimes wonder what I did in life to have two amazing kids, who are very considerate towards me and others for that matter.

‘Don’t you worry about me,’ I tell Benji. ‘I’m all okay. Go help set the table.’

He holds my hand for a brief second, giving it a squeeze, before walking over to his coach to help. My phone beeps, only to tell me that Dean send me a text.

Dean: You up?

Amelia: We don’t want to talk to you yet. If we did, I’d text you, remember?

Dean: I want to talk.

Amelia: Please, just read my previous message and for once think about your kids first, instead of yourself.

Sometimes it stuns me that I was married to him. Was he always this selfish and nearly childlike or did that change the moment he exchanged me for a younger model?

Who he got pregnant. Oh my, I still can’t believe that.

‘Mom, you can pick your smoothie now. I chose the orange with tangerine juice. Benji chose the one with banana, oranges and coconut milk. There is a banana mango one and a strawberry raspberry one left,’ Isabella says, dragging me out of this virtual conversation.

‘Banana mango, sweetie,’ I say, as I walk over to the table, to sit next to her. I look over to Benji and Henry, as they sit across from us. Henry thanks Isabella as she hands him the smoothie that is left and I let out a deep sigh. ‘Okay, we have to talk about the elephant in the room.’

‘We know,’ Benji says, though he looks like he’d rather be somewhere else. I mean, you and me both, kid. If I could, I’d skip this conversation, but if there is one thing motherhood taught me, it’s that the most painful conversations, the ones that deprive you from any sleep, are the ones that are very very important. ‘If there is something that you only want to tell me, maybe only to each other or only to Henry, you can just say so. I won’t judge and neither will anyone else at this table. Is that clear?’

‘Yes mom,’ the two of them say.

I nod. ‘Yesterday it became pretty obvious that you weren’t happy about Mindy’s pregnancy. How did they tell you about this?’

If there is something I have learned over the course of this divorce and trying to make this co-parenting work, is to always ask about the entire situation, so I know all about the wrong things their dad said, so I can make it up to them as we go.

Benji clenches his jaw, as he looks away from us. Isabella looks at me and decides to speak up. ‘We were sitting at the table in the kitchen. Mindy made us cupcakes and it had the text: ‘Congrats big brother’ for Benji on it and ‘Congrats big sister’ for me on it,’ she says. ‘Benji asked if it was a joke and then dad told us it was not and we should be happy about it.’ She looks at her big brother, before she says: ‘That was when Benji got pretty mad.’

Benji scoffs. ‘Well, he can’t fucking force me to be happy, right?’

‘Language,’ I say. Maybe Kal senses that he needs the most support right this moment, because the big dog struts over to Benji, placing his head against his arm. ‘But you are right,’ I say. ‘People can’t force you to feel a certain way. What happened after that?’

‘Well,’ Isabella continues, ‘Benji went upstairs to grab his stuff and came back with mine as well. He told dad that we were going home, that we had to think about this. That’s when dad got very angry. He told us that we should stay here and celebrate this. I told him that I wasn’t feeling very festive. He then said to me that I had to suck it up and fake it.’

When I was still together with Dean, he wasn’t the most well equipped dad, with the greatest parental decisions. I mean, he was a well loved English teacher in high school and to some extent, he is actually good with kids, but only for a certain amount of time (read: a maximum of three hours spread over multiple days). Naturally, he isn’t a good father. But when we were raising Benji and Isabella, he was willing to listen to me, to at least try his best to make the right decision. Though I sometimes wondered what on earth was going through his mind from time to time, I saw that he tried and I loved him for that. He admitted multiple times that he wasn’t naturally a good parent, not in the way I was, but that he was willing to learn from me. It was rough, but it was also doable, since we worked as a team.

The second he moved out of this place to move in with Mindy, it seemed like every parenting tip I had ever given him over the course of fourteen years, was thrown right out of the window.

‘Right,’ I mumble, thinking about Dean’s “fake it” tip. I gave the kids that tip once, when they had to go to parties thrown by kids they both didn’t like. Then it was useful, now it feels depriving our kids from having their own emotions. ‘Okay, then what?’

Isabella looks up at me, taking a sip of her smoothie. ‘Then I said I wanted to go home with Benji, but dad told me that it was too late for me to go home. Benji told him that if I wanted to go home, he was going to take me home, no matter what time it was. He grabbed our things and we went home.’

‘But he followed us in his car, continuing to say how we broke Mindy’s feelings and while that wasn’t my intention,’ Benji continues, ‘I was just mad, because he ruined everything.’

‘What did he exactly ruin?’ I ask him, though I think I might know where he is going.

‘Our family.’ He stares at the muffin in front of him, as I see tears form in his eyes. Henry gently places his hand in the back of Benji’s neck, almost as an encouragement for him to continue talking, but also for letting him know that he is not alone. That we are all here for him. ‘He ruined us. He betrayed you, mom,’ Benji says, his voice breaking in the process, something that on my end breaks my heart. ‘Now… He is betraying us, because he is not a good enough dad for me or for Isabella. How is he going to love another kid, when he doesn’t even love us? What if he loves them more than he loves us? What if that kid is better than us?’

No ‘recently divorced’-blog prepared me for this, at least not the ones that I have been reading. Fuck, how do I respond to this? I mean, his worries are obvious and valid, but as his mom, there is something that I can say that will help him in understanding and dealing with this situation. I clear my throat, as I look over to Henry. He bites his lip, as he seems to be at a loss for words as well. I really have to figure this one out all by myself. I wished Johnny and Eve were here as well. Or even my parents for that matter.

‘He did ruin our family,’ I eventually say. ‘He did betray me and I don’t understand why he is starting a new family, when he indeed has shown that he wasn’t the greatest dad to either of you.’

‘You are going to say but, aren’t you?’ Benji asks.

I look at my smoothie. ‘Maybe,’ I say. I take a sip of my smoothie and say: ‘I will let you decide what the two of you are going to do with this. But I’m going to tell you something that you have to keep in mind, okay?’

The two of them look at me, both with a nearly identical frown, a trait they inherited from their dad. ‘Okay.’

‘This is going to be a very happy time for Mindy.’

‘How do you know?’ Isabella asks. ‘You weren’t even there.’

‘True, but I have been pregnant two times. Knowing that I was expecting you two, were the two best moments of my life. Mindy will have a kid of her own and that is very exciting. Being a first time mom, or a second time mom, third time, whatever, for most people it’s wonderful. Hearing that she went out of her way to tell you guys, means she is very happy.’

Benji frowns and Isabella doesn’t seem too sure of what I’m trying to do here. I don’t really know how to continue this, if I’m being totally honest.

‘What your mom is trying to say,’ Henry decides to butt in and I’m so thankful for that, ‘is that you don’t have to go your dad anymore, but that you can send a card for example, to wish Mindy well. You can write that in a card, with something for their new baby.’

‘Why would we do that?’ Isabella asks.

‘Because that is the mature thing to do,’ I explain to them. ‘I mean, there are a million things I would rather do, but I am mature and will not do that.’

Benji sighs. ‘But if we do that, we don’t have to go anymore?’

‘Well, you don’t have to go in the first place,’ I say, ‘but if you do this, there isn’t any reason for your dad to be angry at you. He probably will be, but we didn’t hand it to him on a silver platter.’

Isabella nods. ‘We can buy something for the baby,’ she says. ‘And we can write a card. Maybe you two can help us.’ She points to me and Henry. ‘You are actual adults, so you probably know what to say.’

‘Henry can help us with that,’ I say. ‘He was born in England and he might be a little bit more polite than I am.’

Benji chuckles. ‘Because you might be very mature about this, but you actually want to tell them that this is a bad idea?’

I let out a laugh, but I also have to hold in my tears, because… That is exactly what I want to do. While I’m not the biggest fan of Mindy at the moment (or ever will be for that matter), she is a young woman and from the looks of it, she is not very happy in the life that she rolled into from the last few times I saw her, so… This is a bad idea, for both parties involved.

But I’m not interfering with other people’s love life, especially not in theirs, since it is not my place to do that.

‘Is there anything else that you want to tell me?’ I ask.

‘Well,’ Benji says, ‘just one thing, to all of you: I’m sorry for yesterday. I know that I scared Isabella, I know that I broke some things here and I know that I hit coach.’

‘It’s all good, kid,’ Henry says. ‘Don’t you worry about it.’

‘You know I don’t care about those types of things,’ I say to him. ‘As long as no one is injured, we’re all good.’

Benji looks at his sister, who blinks her eyes. I can already tell that for dramatical sake, she keeps quiet. ‘Well,’ she says, looking at her smoothie, ‘you did scare me a little bit.’ Isabella, honey, for your brother’s sake, don’t drag this out… ‘But I understand that you get mad from time to time, so I’m not mad at you. I forgive you.’

Benji is visibly relieved and nods. ‘Well, good then.’ He takes a bite of his muffin and Isabella copies his movements.

‘That’s it?’ I ask, a little bit confused.

‘That’s it,’ Isabella confirms. ‘Benji and I are going to be mature.’

‘Okay…’ I have no idea what I have to say to them now. ‘Remember, if you change your minds, that’s okay. You can always think about it again and if you want to you can always talk to me or Henry or Eve and Johnny about it.’

‘We know,’ they say in unison, both taking another bite from their respective muffins.

Have I done parenting exceptionally good? Was sleeping on it for a night, enough to digest this easier? Am I a successful parent? Should I write a book or something, to share my apparent wisdom with others?

I look over to Henry, who has a smile on his face as he nods approvingly. We eat our breakfast and Isabella is the ever drama queen, while Benji continues to seek approval from his coach, something that will forever warm my heart.

I tell them that we’re going to the autumn market and that they should get dressed. The two rush upstairs, already fighting who can shower first, and I lean back in the chair. Kal sits next to Henry on the floor, his head against his arm. It must be nice, to have a companion like that. ‘Answer this for me: have I found the perfect formula for parenting?’

Henry smiles. ‘I think you might have,’ he says, finishing up his smoothie. ‘How are you?’

‘I think I’m good,’ I whisper.

‘Come here,’ he says, as he pulls back the chair where Benji was sitting on a few moments ago, patting on the seat. I walk over to him, plopping on the seat. Henry pulls the chair closer to his and honestly, that is the biggest power move I have ever seen someone of the opposite sex do.

Before he can say anything to me, I ask: ‘I’m doing good, right? It was the right thing for me to tell them to be mature?’

‘It was,’ he says. ‘You are an excellent mother.’

Oh no, this shouldn’t make me cry. I bite my lip, before I let out a soft sob. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘No, no, no,’ Henry says, ‘This is all totally understandable. This is a lot of change and quite the stressful time for you, Dean and your kids. But remember, you are doing good.’ Just as he did with Benji, he places his hand in the back of my neck and smiles. ‘When we’re at the autumn market, we should not only buy something for their new baby, but maybe, if you allow me, I can buy something for the kids. Something they want.’

I let out a chuckle, wiping away my tears. ‘You are a very interesting man, mister Cavill,’ I say to him. ‘Very smart too, working your way into my heart, by being kind to me and my kids. Men around the world should take notes.’

He smiles, as his cheeks turn red. For a second I wonder why on earth he does this. The fact that I have kids is not scaring him away. My ex-husband and the way he and his new fiancée are involved in my life, doesn’t make him leave.

This man is the jackpot.

‘Henry, I’m sorry you rolled into this whole family mess,’ I say.

‘What did I tell you about apologizing?’ he asks me.

I smile, as I shake my head. ‘I should save it, I know, I know. Let me say this instead: Thank you for staying. I know many others wouldn’t have done that.’

Henry smiles, but he can’t say anything to it, because we are brutally interrupted. ‘Mom!’ Isabella yells, ‘Benji won’t let me in the bathroom.’

I chuckle. ‘Duty calls.’

✰ ✰ ✰

‘Dear Mindy,’ Isabella reads from the card, ‘congratulations on your baby. We are very happy for you. However, co- consi- Benji, what is this again?’

Benji scoots closer to his sister, reading the card. ‘However,’ he continues, ‘considering the circumstances, we find it very difficult to celebrate with you. Please accept this gift for your new baby and we wish you nothing but the best. We hope that we are welcome when we want to come over. Lots of love, Benji and Isabella.’

We are sitting at a large picnic table, with some hot chocolate and extra whipped cream, specifically asked for by Isabella and me. Henry, who sits next to me, has placed his hand on my leg and that is exactly the kind of support I need. I have wrapped my arm around his, to place my hand on his. My fingers play with his. ‘You agree with this?’ I ask the two of them.

‘I do,’ Isabella starts. ‘It sounds very mature, don’t you think, Benji?’

‘It does,’ he agrees. ‘Thank you, mom, coach… I feel better already.’

‘Want to drop it by or send it to them?’ Henry asks. ‘If you want, I can drop it off, if none of you want to bring it.’

We Jungs all agree a little too quick.

This causes Henry to smile. ‘Well, I’ll do that and before you worry, Amelia, it’s all good. I don’t mind.’

‘Coach,’ Isabella says, ‘you like my mom, don’t you?’

Henry nods. ‘I do like her and I sure hope she likes me too.’

‘She does,’ she confirms for me. Am I that obvious? ‘Do you like us?’

‘Very much, so,’ Henry says. ‘And Kal really likes you too.’ Kal sits next to Isabella, licking her cheek. ‘I really like spending time with the Jung family. Makes me feel less alone.’

‘Do you miss your family?’ she asks.

He shrugs. ‘Maybe a bit, but not a lot.’

Isabella nods, before she says: ‘We like it too when you are around.’

‘That’s wonderful to hear,’ Henry says and it almost sounds like he is touched by it.

She looks at her brother and coerces him to say something, with just her eyes. Since Benji has a very hard time saying no to her—ever—he nods and adds: ‘We like it that you make our mom happy.’

‘Oh guys, that is really not necessary,’ I say, hoping they would stop, but Isabella won’t zip it, because she adds: ‘Our mom deserves someone. She always tells us that we are her greatest treasures and while we believe that, it’s nice to see someone who cares.’

‘Okay, now you really need to stop talking,’ I laugh, ‘because I’m going to cry if you keep going.’

Henry squeezes my leg, before he admits: ‘You have wonderful kids, Amelia. Both of them.’ And that on their end, causes Benji and even Isabella to blush.

I nod. ‘Yeah, I sure do. Now, enjoy your hot chocolate, before it is cold.’

‘Can we go into the ferris wheel?’ Isabella asks, licking some of the whipped cream of her drink. ‘Please, mom?’

‘Of course,’ I answer.

‘Will you come with us?’ she pushes.

Benji nudges his sister. ‘Bella, remember that mom is afraid of heights.’

‘You’re afraid of heights?’ Henry asks, sounding genuinely surprised.

‘Maybe a bit,’ I confess, ‘but the last time we went was three years ago and I think I have grown. Besides, we have a wonderful dog and a Henry with us. I think I can manage.’

Henry starts to laugh, as well as Benji and Isabella, who give each other a high five, because we’re going in a cart together. ‘Coach,’ Benji starts, but Henry shakes his head.

‘When we’re not training, you can call me Henry,’ he tells them. ‘Both of you.’

‘Really?’ Isabella asks, her eyes starting to sparkle with hope.

He nods. ‘Really. I might be Benji’s coach, but when I’m at your place, I’m not. I’m just Henry, okay?’

‘Copy that,’ Benji chuckles, before taking a sip of his hot chocolate. ‘Henry.’

When we finished our hot chocolate, we get in line to go in the ferris wheel. Thankfully for my kids, dogs are allowed, otherwise I’d happily stay behind on the ground with Kal. We get in and I sit next to Henry, as Benji, Isabella and Kal sit across from us. ‘This is okay,’ I say, looking around me.

‘Mom,’ Isabella laughs, ‘we’re still on the ground. Don’t be ridiculous.’

Benji holds back a laugh. ‘You can still get out now.’

‘I’m totally fine,’ I say, but that’s such a lie. I breath in deeply, before slowly breathing out, hoping to calm my breathing a bit. The cart moves and I let out I high pitched scream. Thankfully the cart is closed and no one can hear me, except everyone here. My two kids start to chuckle and I scrunch up my nose. ‘Is it too late to get out?’ I ask.

‘It is now,’ Henry laughs. ‘You two are being awfully mean to your mother, laughing at her like that.’

‘One time, coach— I mean, Henry, mom, dad, Benji and I went to California and we also sat in a rollercoaster that stops for a while at the top. Mom was crying.’

‘Don’t share those stories with him,’ I say. ‘That is not… Oh no, we’re so high! I don’t like this.’ I close my eyes, as my shoulder tense up and are near my ears.

I can feel Henry laughing silently next to me, before he wraps an arm around my shoulders.

‘Are we nearly down yet?’ I ask.

Benji laughs. ‘No, mom, we’re almost at the top.’ The cart shakes as we come to a halt and I nearly puke from the sudden movement. ‘We can see our house from here.’

‘Mom, open up your eyes,’ Isabella says. ‘Please, mom, just look. For us.’

For us. She knows exactly what buttons to push. I open one eye, wince at the sight of the entire town, before opening the other one too. ‘Maybe you should breath,’ Henry chuckles.

‘Shut up,’ I chuckle nervously. ‘Oh, we can indeed see our house.’

Isabella stands up and I nearly yell at her that she should sit down, but this cart can handle movement. Besides, I don’t want to come across as that kind of mother. ‘Henry, can we see your house?’

He nods. ‘Right there, with the orange garage.’

‘You live in Miss Bonny’s old house?’ Benji asks. ‘They say her spirit still lives there and she eats little kids.’

Henry smiles. ‘Well, I’m all alone with Kal there. No spirit of Miss Bonny. It’s still a bit bland though.’

‘You want me to make something for you?’ Isabella asks. ‘Or maybe we can help you decorate it. Mom is really good at decorating. When dad moved out, the three of us completely redid our living room. We can paint, we can hang up wallpaper and we can find decorations.’

‘I would love that,’ he says with a smile. ‘Besides, I could use some help. I’m utterly useless when it comes to decorating.’

Benji smiles. ‘Then we really should help.’

✰ ✰ ✰

Henry and I watch as Benji and Isabella are in the arcade, playing away after Henry gave them like a billion quarters. We sip on our tea, with some cookies in the middle of us, as we sit across from each other. ‘So, how do you like the Luna Meadows autumn market so far?’ I ask him.

‘I absolutely love it,’ he admits. ‘This is such a lovely town. I’m happy I moved here and I’d like to take you guys up on that offer, of the three of you helping me decorate my place. I have been postponing it since the moment I arrived.’

‘Of course, let that be our way of thanking you for today. I honestly did not expect you to buy all of us matching pajamas, including a pair for yourself,’ I laugh. ‘And you’re sure you don’t mind bringing that package? I mean, I can send it to them or ask someone else to drop it off…’

‘I can just place it on their doorstep, right?’

‘You can, but… Don’t you think that it’s weird? Considering that there is something going on between the two of us.’

He shakes his head. ‘I want what is best for the kids and you. Really, I honestly don’t care about what your ex husband might think of it, what Mindy might think of it or the entire town for that matter.’

‘Gosh, you have such thick skin, Cavill. It’s admirable, really.’

He shrugs. ‘Barely.’ Henry holds out his hand for me to take and I hesitantly place mine in his. His thumb gently caresses my fingers. It feels so familiar, as if we have done this forever. For a second I’m afraid that people might see, but on the other hand: I don’t care. I’m happy right now.

I look up. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Go for it.’

‘Why did you marry your ex in the first place?’

Even if he was taken by surprise, he doesn’t show it. This man has an incredible pokerface and maybe it’s a blessing that I can’t even play poker; my face is an open book and Henry seems to read it with ease. ‘My parents thought we were a good match,’ he says. ‘I mean, I’ve known her since high school and I liked her as a friend, but… The both of us, we were never a match. However, she started dating my best friend behind my back, we finally got our divorce and I never saw her again. That’s the short, less pathetic version.’

‘Oh my, Henry, I’m so sorry. Did you date after that?’

‘I did, but it never felt good,’ he confesses. Henry tilts his head and smiles. ‘It never felt like how I feel about you. The second I lifted up that tampon box and looked into your eyes, it just clicked.’

‘Shut your face about the tampon box. When someone asks us how we met, we’ll just stick with the ‘you’re Benji’s new coach’-story.’

Henry smiles, while I am at a loss for words, since I’m drowning in his beautiful eyes. I don’t really understand why some parents would force their kids to marry someone, they don’t feel comfortable with. I still feel like there is so much more to the story then what he has told me, but I’m not going to pry. The fact that I completely tell him my entire life story, doesn’t mean that he has to.

‘Mom, Henry, look!’ Isabella yells, as she rushes back to us. She sits next to Henry and holds up her lion stuffed animal. ‘Benji won it for me.’

Benji sits down next to me, as I pull my hand back from Henry’s. ‘I don’t have any quarters left.’

‘We gave you tons of quarters,’ I chuckle.

‘Yeah, it may have cost me all of the quarters to win two,’ he confesses.

‘Two?’ I ask him, since Isabella is only holding one.

He holds up a little bear, twice as little as Isabella’s lion. ‘For Mindy’s baby,’ he says, causing Henry to look up as well. ‘Make sure it’s in the package,’ he tells his coach.

‘You’re a good kid,’ Henry says, taking over the bear from Benji. ‘You’re really going places, mark my words.’

✰ ✰ ✰

Dean: Your new boyfriend brought over the gift.

Dean: I honestly don’t get what the big deal is.

Dean: That you don’t like this, whatever, but the kids should at least have the human decency to bring over the package themselves.

Dean: The kids are coming over next week again.

Amelia: If they want to.

Amelia: And by the way: you’re welcome.

Dean: For what?

Amelia: The gift the kids prepared for Mindy.

[spookyscientistskeleton-moved]

Knowing your partner well makes writing together a lot easier!

BASICS- OOC

name: Spacy age: 35 pronouns: She/her zodiac sign: Sagittarius/Scorpio cusp? I identify more with Sag tho. taken or single: Blissfully divorced. 😌 three facts: 1. My first anime was Urusei Yatsura. Our local Blockbuster had an anime section where for some reason literally everything was tagged NC-17, and I dunno how, but little 6-year-old me was able to convince my mom it was totally okay for me to watch them all.  2. I grew up hating the color pink. My bedroom is now painted bright Pepto Bismal pink. 3. I used to host bar trivia in the before times. I ended up quitting shortly before the pandemic so I could devote more time to my voiceover career, but it was a ton of fun! I miss attending as a player though.  experience: Around 25 years, no joke.  how’d you start:  I was in like 5th grade at the time, but I got into RPing back in the AOL chatroom days/Rhydin and such.

MUSE PREFERENCES

female or male: I don’t really have a preference honestly.  favorite face: Minako bay-bee!  My favorite sailor senshi has changed numerous times over the course of my life. Sailor Jupiter was my favorite when I was little, I connected with Sailor Uranus and Neptune a lot when I was a teenager going through my queer awakening, and I became much more of an Usagi stan in my 20s. But at this stage my favorite (perhaps controversially!) is Minako. Like people complain she’s just a duplicate of Usagi (which tracks honestly since Codename Sailor V was the proto-Sailor Moon) but in the 90s anime she’s like, Usagi but weirder and more confident in her weirdness, and I adore her. least favorite face: I don’t really like using RL faceclaims, it just kinda feels weird.

WRITING PREFERENCES

fluff, angst or smut: Yes! plots or memes: Porque no los dos? Memes can be great for getting the creative juices flowing and can lead to really interesting plots. are you like your muse(s): To an extent, yeah? Like--you ever have that moment where you’re really in the groove writing a very Sad Post, and a line sort of just comes out that hits you in the rawest nerve you got, and it’s like a very immediate “Oh No, This Got Extremely Real For Me”? That happens to me a lot with Ferno lol. Beyond that, Orion probably captures a lot of my Sag energy.

[lassostark]

Summary:

Jaskier has a secret. Well, he has two.

The first is that he's in love with Geralt Rivia, captain of the rugby team and his childhood best friend. Only, they're no longer best friends. His second secret is that he writes Geralt poetry and anonymously posts it at the school's Freedom Wall under the pseudonym of Dandelion. And the thing is, Dandelion has become so popular - more popular than Jaskier - that it's getting more difficult to keep his silence when it's clear that Geralt is starting to develop feelings for the mysterious lovesick poet.

How naïve was Jaskier to think that it would be so easy.

Excerpt:

Dear Heart,

You’re the moon And the world is a lonely wolf; It cries at the sight of you For you are glorious And so out of reach.

Yours, Dandelion

~

“Ooh, another one from Dandelion!”

“Wha— really?”

“Where?”

“Move over, let me read!”

“That’s the second time this week! They’re being productive, eh?”

“Has anybody told Rivia yet? Oh, wait there’s— Triss! Hey! Have you seen Geralt?”

“I just got in, Duny. What is it?”

“Dandelion posted another poem at the wall.”

“Bloody hell, they’re on a roll.”

“That’s what I said!”

“Piss off, Chireadan. Nobody asked you.”

“Okay, Geralt just replied ‘on my way’. Where’s the poem?”

“It’s up there, the blue circle post-it.”

“… Oh. That’s quite painful.”

“I know.”

“They’re pining so hard they could build a forest.”

There’s a collective sigh of exasperation.

“Again, Chireadan: piss off.”

~

Jaskier slings his bag over his shoulder and closes his locker with a soft thud before going the opposite direction where the small crowd is forming in front of The Freedom Wall.

When he was in freshman year, the bulletin first gained popularity after the student council during that year proposed it to the school as a way to encourage freedom of expression amongst its students in Morhen Academy. Since then, the school never took the bulletin off, and it gradually became a safe space for students to express their thoughts, opinions, as well as anonymously divulge their secrets and desires. For Jaskier, who’s now in his last year of high school, utilising The Freedom Wall for the past year and a half as a means to share his poetry without compromising his identity has become both a blessing and a curse.

It’s a blessing because he can write and post his poetry while his identity remains safe, having come up with the moniker of Dandelion after his favourite flower. Not that anyone would think to guess it’s him. Nobody knows that Jaskier is a lovesick poet, that he has filled out dozens and dozens of pages of writing he hasn’t shared to anyone. Until that fateful day.

It’s a curse because while he pours his heart out into his notebook with prose and verses, some carrying a tune more than others — it’s not like it’ll make the object of his (albeit secret) affections notice Jaskier. Even if he puts up a large neon sign over his head, there’s just no way Geralt Rivia, resident captain of the Morhen Wolves rugby team, would look twice at him and think that those pretty words written for him could ever come from someone like Jaskier.

There’s just no way.

He’s been setting himself up for disappointment and heartbreak from the start, he knows that. He’s more than aware of that fact. But let it not be said that Jaskier Pankratz has always had a dreadful habit of hurting himself further.

Jaskier grows up with two parents and two older siblings. One of his early memories about his parents is that they always fought, and his siblings always bullied him just because he was the youngest.

Jaskier is six when he made his first friend.

He and one Geralt Rivia became inseparable after Geralt pushed their classmate Valdo Marx on the playground after he shoved Jaskier to get to the swing first.

They played together, had recess together. Some weekends, they would sleepover at each other’s place, though Jaskier preferred staying over at Geralt’s because he was scared that if his best friend heard his parents fight, then Geralt wouldn’t want to be his friend anymore.

Jaskier is nine when his parents separated.

He and Geralt still have sleepovers, but it’s Jaskier who often stays at his best friend’s place. He also adores Geralt’s mum. Visenna Rivia being an excellent baker and never failing to indulge the young boys’ every whim.

~

It’s later in the week and Jaskier has sequestered himself in his usual corner at the cafeteria. His packed lunch has always been the same since freshman year. The sandwich of the week (it’s tuna this time), a pear (it varies, sometimes it’s an apple, sometimes it’s grapes), and a juice box and bottled water.

He likes the quiet. Prefers it, really. But sometimes he’ll be joined by a couple of his friends. Chireadan, Renfri, Shani, and Priscilla are the ones who frequent his table at the corner. Triss, who’s Jaskier’s lab partner this year, as well as Duny and Pavetta, join him on occasion. But most of the time, Jaskier has the table to himself. And he’s perfectly fine with it, too.

With his creative mind, all he needs is his brown leather-bound notebook and favourite pen, and it’s more than enough. It should be.

Jaskier is munching on his pear while fiddling with a torn bracelet he’s decided to use as a bookmark for his notebook when he hears boisterous laughter across the cafeteria. He looks up, only to see the rugby team on the long table they pushed together in the middle of the area to accommodate the dozen players that make up the Morhen Wolves. They’re talking animatedly, voices loud and piercing, while others throw food at each other.

And right in the middle of it is Geralt Rivia. He’s one of the only people there who’s seated calmly, although Jaskier can see that small, upwards twitch on the corner of his mouth. The only indication that the silver-haired captain finds the whole thing amusing. Jaskier’s heart aches in that moment.

Then suddenly, Geralt looks up from his conversation with Eskel to meet Jaskier’s eyes.

Shit, Jaskier curses himself. He averts his eyes and ducks his head instead, cursing himself further when he feels his cheeks heat up with embarrassment at being caught.

He forces himself to focus on his leather-bound notebook, jotting down a few lines for a new song he has in mind. All the while, he continues to fiddle with the bracelet.

~

On Geralt’s tenth birthday, Jaskier gifted his best friend a drawing of the two of them. Before discovering his love for writing, Jaskier was a pretty decent artist, so he carefully drew a mountain with the sun rising behind it, two figures — one with chestnut hair and one with dark grey — standing beside each other on a forked road before them.

“Why is it forked?” Geralt asks Jaskier with a curious tilt of his head.

Jaskier shrugs. “I thought it looked nice. Why draw one road when you can draw two, right? And besides, that way you can choose which path to take!”

Geralt frowns. “But what if you don’t want to go in the same direction as me?”

“Don’t be silly, I’d follow you anywhere! You’re my best friend!”

“Well, I’d follow you, too.”

The two young boys share grins, and they only get up when Geralt’s mum calls them for dinner.

~

It’s the middle of November now, and since Jaskier started posting his poetry on The Freedom Wall near the end of second year, he always arrives at the school earlier than usual to put up the post-it at the bulletin.

There’s nobody in sight, the hallways void of students and teachers alike. Luckily, the bulletin is only a few feet away from his locker, which is also near the boy’s toilet. So in case he hears anyone approaching, Jaskier can make a quick escape.

Checking that the coast is clear and he can’t hear any footsteps approaching, Jaskier swiftly takes out the yellow rectangle post-it from between the pages of his notebook. Using one of the coloured thumb tacks pinned to the bulletin, Jaskier goes on his tip toes to pin the note to the upper right corner. Satisfied, he straightens with a huff of breath and takes a moment to scan the other messages posted, eyes landing on other anonymous writings pinned in the bulletin.

“My parents are getting a divorce. I might move schools next term. I don’t want to go.”

“I came out to my family last night over dinner, and for the first time I saw my dad cry. He’s a lawyer, and I can’t even remember the last time we had a heart-to-heart. But he hugged me and told me he loved me.”

“Sure, this school has a zero tolerance for bullying. But what if it’s ourselves we’re bullying? Sometimes, I’m scared of my own thoughts.”

“FUCK HOMOPHOBIA. FUCK RACISM. FUCK ISLAMOPHOBIA. FREEDOM FOR ALL!!!”

“What if one day you wake up and you find that you’re the person you’ve always wanted to be? What would you do?”

“The cafeteria needs to revamp their menu. There’s only so much baked fucking potato I can consume in a goddamn week.”

“This country isn’t for me. As an immigrant, I don’t feel like I belong. But then I remember where I came from, where my family suffered for years of poverty and oppression. And that’s when the gratitude comes. How can I be so selfish when my parents sacrificed so much for my sisters, just so we can be safe and have a bright future?”

“Anyone got any guesses who Dandelion is?”

A bubble of surprised laughter erupts from Jaskier upon reading the last one. He purses his lips and reads it a second time, eyes attentively going over the spidery scrawl of the letters. He’s half tempted to take it down, but Jaskier knows he can’t. No student is allowed to remove or discard anything that’s posted at The Freedom Wall. Nobody except the teachers and caretakers, who clear out the massive bulletin drilled into the wall every week.

Some part of Jaskier twinges in sorrow every time he sees his writing, though anonymous, be discarded so carelessly like yesterday’s leftovers. Once it’s out there, it’s never really gone, though. His words are immortalised elsewhere. What he chooses to share is only a fragment, a sliver, of the deeper parts of Jaskier’s heart.

He only ever posts at the bulletin for one person, anyway.

~

Dear Heart,

The universe is a brilliant writer; It wrote your name in my stars Before any of us existed So when the time comes They’ll light up your path — And lead you straight to me.

Yours, Dandelion

~

Like everyone, Jaskier is walking briskly to his next class, which happens to be AP English Literature. He’s adjusting the strap of his bag over his shoulder, mumbling to himself about purchasing a new one that weekend. He’s fixing the zipper of his bag when he rounds the next corner, only to collide hard with a solid body.

“Oomf!”

Jaskier hits the ground on his arse. His bag, halfway open, spills the contents between him and the person he bumped into.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” a gruff voice says above him, sounding just as shocked.

Jaskier stiffens, belated realising that the figure he collided with didn’t even move from the spot. Slowly, he raises his head to meet Geralt’s golden eyes.

Swallowing past the dryness he suddenly finds lodged in his throat, Jaskier quickly stammers, “I-it’s fine!” He clears his throat. “Sorry. Sorry, I didn’t see you. Was a bit occupied wrestling with my stupid bag.”

“It’s fine,” Geralt replies in that same gruff voice, although his tone is soft.

He looks away from Geralt’s eyes, unable to hold his piercing gaze for more than a few seconds at a time. It’s akin to looking directly at the sun, and Jaskier, who’s always worn his heart on his sleeve, fears that if he stares too long that Geralt will see something he doesn’t want to see. So instead, Jaskier focuses on gathering his books, notebooks, and pens scattered on the deserted hallway.

Wait. Deserted? Since when?

Ah, fuck. It doesn’t matter.

Jaskier is shoving his History book into his bag when he feels more than sees Geralt crouch in front of him. He wordlessly passes Jaskier some of his pens, which he accepts with a mumbled “thank you”. When he catches sight of Geralt clutching a brown, leather-bound notebook in his large hands, Jaskier feels his heart stop.

His eyes drift from the notebook to the rough-looking hands, and up to the chiseled features of Geralt’s handsome face. And he is. Handsome. Breathtakingly beautiful, with his sharp jawline and the high cheekbones. Full lips that are dry but look soft at the same time, an odd juxtaposition in Jaskier’s humble opinion.

Geralt is still looking at the notebook, Jaskier notes, thick fingers slowly stroking the spine as golden eyes study the initials embossed on the front cover.

“You’re finally using it,” Geralt comments, thumb lightly stroking the thin leather cord that keeps the notebook closed.

Jaskier gulps inaudibly. Give it back, give it back. Please.

“I’ve been using it for years,” he reveals quietly. Jaskier shrugs when Geralt looks up to meet his eyes. “Took you long enough to notice.”

Geralt raises an eyebrow at him before he snorts softly and — thank god — finally hands it back to Jaskier. He more or less snatches it from the other man, careful not to let their fingers graze.

“It’s not like I always have my eyes on you,” Geralt eventually says.

Jaskier finally zips his bag closed, and they rise up from their crouched positions. Jaskier opens his mouth to make a sarcastic retort, but stops himself when the words register to him.

He tilts his head at Geralt. “Does this mean you sometimes have your eyes on me?”

Geralt blinks, and he looks startled for a moment that Jaskier can’t help but chuckle. It’s so easy to push his buttons, Jaskier has almost forgotten how much fun he used to have getting a rise out of Geralt.

“That’s not— I don’t—”

“Relax, Geralt. I was only teasing.”

Geralt shuts his mouth, looking nonplussed.

“Hmm.”

Oh, he’s definitely missed that, Jaskier thinks with a pang. His earlier mirth recedes, amused smile fading from his face.

They stand in front of each other in awkward silence. Jaskier fixes the strap of his bag over his shoulder as he fixes his eyes on his black Converse shoes.

Geralt clears his throat.

“Thanks, er, for the help,” Jaskier states. He chances a glance up and fights down a flinch when he sees Geralt already looking at him.

“Sure,” Geralt acknowledges with a nod, his expression pinched.

Jaskier thinks he looks a cross between constipated and freaked out. Could be a bit of both, who knows?

“So. I’m gonna go. I have AP English.”

Geralt nods again.

“AP Biology for me.”

“Okay. Er. Bye.”

“… Bye.”

It’s with an awkward wave, and a more awkward smile, that Jaskier walks past Geralt to turn the corner and get to class. Which he’s already a minute late for, fuck.

If his heart is hammering against his ribcage, and his palms happen to be sweaty and his cheeks flushed pink, Jaskier convinces himself it’s because he hightailed it across the hallway in record time to avoid getting detention from Ms. Tissaia.

Yeah. That’s why. It’s because he ran.

(Read the rest on AO3)

[scream-mans-friend]

character ask: the whole rooftop gang thank you please

ALL OF THEM HUH? WELL THEN:

Shirakumo: 

1: I like to make my favs trans, so i like to sometimes imagine him as afab, but then i laugh bc that implies that the doctor said “trans rights!” as he frankensteined his corpse, so i lean towards him being an amab demiboy! 2: a lot of people hc him as being very open about his sexuality and gender, but I think he was just a tad repressed to his bisexual tendencies hkjdflfsahlsdkj not in an angsty way but like, he didn’t really think about it until his own emotions pretty much confronted him about it 3: I think he was a happy kid for the most part! i think when he first started school he tried to be friends with everyone and didn’t really understand when other kids didnt want to be friends with him :( but he was otherwise pretty happy go lucky, he had a stable home with his mom, dad, and older sister, and he liked to run around outside and explore 4: well it would be difficult to not associate him with clouds, but I also associate him with werewolves and the fae due to what happens to him later on LMAO a little sad but also kinda neat in my humble opinion  5: I always associate him with the rooftop gang ofc!!  6: I like to project my own obliviousness onto him- hes awkward but hes so upbeat that he can’t tell. 7: I think that he likes to cook and bake! he finds it fun to try and make things for his friends, but he tends to stray from recipes and this can spell disaster- hes good at it when he wants to be!

Kayama: 

1: I hc that shes on the ace/aro spectrum! her costume has rings on her middle fingers and everything... I think she struggles with romance and isn’t really sexually attracted to anyone, but is sex positive  2: i don’t think she was as close with shirakumo as the rest of the fandom likes to write her as, but I do think she struggled with her own sense of grief and guilt- when someone you know dies unexpectedly its kinda hard to not think about anything you could have done differently that could have helped 3: kayama had a decent childhood- her parents fought a lot and split up though, and during that period of time they didn’t really focus on her (this would be when she was around 8). she got plenty of love and attention after their divorce, but it still really hurt her 4: well,,,, her whip and pink mist are definitely what stand out about her, but i also associate her hair with christmas trees bc of how its drawn in canon k\gfhaslkj 5: I associate her with the depression duo and with ms joke! 6: I’m not really sure if i project anything onto her! maybe self doubt, but i project that onto any and all characters i come into contact with lmaoo 7: she likes to knit! the sweater she wears in her casual wear? she made it!

Aizawa: 

1: I love trans and autistic aizawa.... hes trans and hes autistic what can I say! 2: plenty of people hc that he had abusive parents but i think they were just busy and they weren’t that close? like they would hang out but the conversations would be awkward and then theyd all go off and do their own things,,,, introvert nation in their household,,,,,, 3: as a kid aizawa was shy and withdrawn,,, but when asked about his opinions on things he didn’t pull any punches and was extremely blunt without really realizing that it could be rude. hes still extremely blunt as an adult but now he knows when its rude or not and he finds it hilarious 4: cats ofc but i also associate him with rain and the moon..... his vibes........... 5: its hard not to associate him with yamada! I also associate him with shirakumo and kayama ofc but like kayama has said in canon, he and yamada are tied at the hip! 6: I tend to live in my own head a little and i project the same onto him sfjklsadhlkajhd 7: he likes to watch “satisfying” videos online, soap cutting videos both please and enrage him bc on the one hand its a bunch of fun little cubes but on the other hand theyre wasting all of that soap,,,,,

Yamada

1: he’s nb! he doesn’t really have much of a preference as to what pronouns you use for him, but their present mic persona is their attempt at creating the ultimate genderless person... bananas dont have gender and neither does she. unless shes in the mood for it 2: a lot of people recognize how powerful his quirk can be, but i hc that at a certain point hes incapable of getting any louder, simply because he’d either tear his own throat apart or he’d match the frequency of his own body and become juice 3: I hc that he was a quiet kid! he had to get control of his quirk before he could really hold a conversation, but i hc that none of the adults in his life knew how to let him practice, and as a result he was told to stay quiet. as for home life, i dont really have a solid hc! i like the idea of him being in a loving home, or a not so loving home, or in foster care- it all depends on the story 4: i ofc associate bananas and cocaktoos with him but i also associate him with doc martens bc punk and gay. he deserves docs not those ugly fuckin rain boot looking things 5: aizawa and shirakumo! I also associate him with kayama, but hjfldhflKJ i ship him with aizawa and shirakumo so i associate them together more 6: I project a lor of anxiety onto him- sometimes its all too much and he kinda freaks out over nothing 7: hes always had a fascination with drink art and drink pouring,,, he isn’t good at it though hfdaslkhlagks

[chandelier-s-notebook]

Hello Internet! So I wrote a stylized transcript of events from @moonbowphobia and @mcyt-apocalypse-au‘s wedding the other day. I apologize from the deepest place in my heart if I messed up anyone’s pronouns.

I hope you enjoy my little rendition of events.

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

Moon was sat in their dressing room; deep blue and black ball gown splayed over the loveseat while their sister Chandelier put the last finishing touches to their hair; Vi and Rib playing cards on the floor; Vibes trying to keep the vodka away from Aria; the chaos was comforting, but Moon was nervous. It was their wedding day. They would be marrying the love of their life, Abi.

“Help! I’m scared!”

“Take a deep breath.” Moon did as Vibes instructed, taking a deep breath in, and letting it out slowly. “You love Abi. She loves you. You’re going to be fine.”

“Am I though? Rib help!”

“Am I not help enough?” Vibes joked.

“No, of course you’re helping. I just nee-“

Vi slaps them across the face. “YOU LOVE HER BITCH JUST KISS HER CMON!”

Chandelier whips around to push Vi back to the floor. “Play your card game. That’s not helping, nor how weddings work.”

Moon laughs at their sister’s antics. At least someone is calm. “I got one of Lu’s cupcakes!” Vibes calls, skidding back into the room. When did they leave? “Here.”

“Thank you,” Moon reaches for the treat. Biting into it and eating with vigor.

“Are you feeling better?”

“Yes.” Moon polishes off the cupcake. “Oh go! Two minutes.”

“Bitch calm down!” Aria says, shaking her best friend by the shoulders.

“Ah yes. The drunk friend always calms people down.” Vibes let the sarcasm seep into their voice, trading a look with Chandelier.

Chandelier goes about shooing Aria and Vi out the door; trusting that Vibes will follow and keep them in line. She brushes the crumbs off of her sibling’s jet black skirt and fixes their headpiece one final time. “You will be fine Moon. Everything will go well. You don’t have to worry about a thing. Let me do that.”

“Okay. Thank you Lier.”

“Anytime.” Lier beckons Rib to follow them out to the altar. Rib grabs the pillow and rings and skips after them, careful not to step on Moon’s train.

Vibes is already at the podium. Moon and Rib set themselves off to the left side. Lier fixes their midnight blue embellished train as they take in the crowd.

Fenn is in the corner playing something on her switch and Vi is on the opposite side doing the same. Ozzie is sitting with the rest of their siblings, trying to waggle them into compliance; their every expression screaming ‘this is fine’ in a deadpan tone.

“Please help,” Moon whispers to the ether.

“It’s okay.” Lier squeezes their shoulder before tucking one of Rib’s stray hairs away and going to calm the masses.

“I’m sure Abi is just as worried at you are,” Vibes consoles.

Aria runs from behind the bar with a glass. “Drink this vodka mix and calm down.”

“Thank you,” Moon gushes, taking the glass from their best friend’s hands. Only for it to be swiped away when Lier comes to collect Aria and get her in place, so the wedding can start. Moon is thankful for their sibling, but they really wanted that drink.

They see Vi run out and down the drink in Lier’s hand before she can stop her. Lier sat Aria down and started to whisper lecture to her niece. Or what looked like whisper lecturing.

Lightly slapping Lynn’s hand away from the cupcakes, Lier goes to put the glass away. Moon watches Lynn sprint to the other dressing room. Looks like Abi needed a snack as well.

Lier pokes her head into Abi’s room. She comes out and locks eye with Moon, giving them a little thumbs up. Moon takes a deep breath, looks at Rib and zeir comforting smile. They give Lier a nod. She cues Star to start playing the wedding march.

Des comes out first, throwing roses Lier procured on the floor. She goes to sit next to Aria in the front row. “God fuck, why am I getting nervous,” Aria whispered to the older girl.

Then comes Tabz in all her glory. She nods to Moon and goes to stand on Abi’s side of the altar.

The first section of the song ends. There are a few seconds of silence before the piano resumes and Abi turns the corner. She walks down the aisle gracefully, her white off-the-shoulder cape flapping gently behind her. Moon can’t keep the smile off of their face.

Neither can Abi. She’s smiling wildly; the only thing keeping her from tripping on her face is the sturdy arm of her father right beside her. Sooty lets go of her hand as she takes her place next to Tabz.

Moon slowly nudges the mask off of their face; showing their visage to Abi, but hiding it from the audience. They smile at each other and Vibes starts to speak.

“Today, we are here to unite Moon and Abi together.”

Moon can see Aria trying not to cry out of their peripheral vision. They hear someone cracking open a can, of course, was it Corn?

“Moon,” Vibes asks. “Do you promise to never give Abi up, never let her down, never run around, and desert her?”

“I promise.”

“Abi. Do you promise to never make Moon cry. Never say goodbye, never tell a lie and hurt them?”

“I do.”

“Moon, do you take Abi to be the ‘yee’ to your ‘haw’?”

“I take Abi to be the ‘yee’ to my ‘haw’.”

"Abi, do you take Moon to be the kazoo noise to your Mono?"

“I do take Moon to be the kazoo noise to my Mono.”

“Then with the blessing of this church, I now pronounce you partners for life. May I have the rings?”

Rib scurries to present the golden pillow to Vibes. “Yes,” ze says, tears in the corners of zeir eyes.

Abi grins and reaches of Moon’s hands, slipping the ring of their finger. Moon does the same for Abi.

"May these rings be a sign of love and faithfulness in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Head, shoulders, knees and toes. Turn up your nose, strike that pose. Hey Macarena. Y'all may now kiss."

Moon cups Abi’s face, both have tears in their eyes. Moon brings Abi in for a kiss, thankful that the mask is still there keeping this moment private for the prying eyes of the audience.

Star starts to play Megalovania as the attendants applaud to newlywed couple. The song continues as everyone files out of the ceremony room to the reception hall. Purple light flooded the room, the guest sat in round tables of eight according to the seating chart. String lights hanging from the rafters to look like stars in the night sky.

Unnie was ferrying food from the kitchen to the guests. Aria was handing out drinks to whoever came up for one. She was about to give Rib one, but with one glare from Lier, Rib got an apple juice.

The room was filled with sounds as everyone ate and got drunk. Aria pulled Moon to the dance floor after handing out vodka shots to Vi and Corn. Abi stumbles out onto the dance floor as well, laughing and having a good time.

Vibes comes over to Lier and offers her a glass of champagne. They clink their glasses together. It was a good show they pulled off.

“So how are you doing these last few days, buddy?” Corn gave Rib her shot glass, sticking her tongue out at Lier who was glaring over the rim of her drink.

“Congrats on your wedding! I hope your marriage lasts for three hours!” Vi yells at her parents, leaning heavily on her fiancée’s arm on her way to get more drinks with.

“Fuck off Vi!” Abi screams back, content to keep dancing with Moon.

Lynn backs into a corner, drinking her apple juice and watching the scene in amusement. She is the first to the tower of cupcakes. “Cake!”

“Cake!” Aria screams.            

Star agrees with the drunk one, “Cake time!”

“Cake!” Vi barrels passed everyone, not caring who she knocked over. “Sugar rush Violet activating!”

Corn silently takes half of the cupcakes with her. Batting Vibes’ hands away when they try to stop her. Lier helps Unnie dish out an equal number of cupcakes to everyone else.

Once everyone was satiated, Rib and Lier broke into the pile of pizza boxes. Pizza is a good substitute for cake; what are you talking about?

Then it was time for gifts. Rib gave zer parents a switchblade, embellished with a motif of leaves and wooden paneling, and a beautiful floral metal necklace. Lier gave them a coaster with Moon’s mask design on it, and a handmade Technoblade plush toy. Aria gave them a set of moonstone chokers.

The couple loved them so very much. Hugging each of the gift givers in turn, they thanked each one.

Then the two backed away from the crowd to exchange gift with each other away from the audience. They started screaming I love yous to each other shortly thereafter.

Everything was calming down a little, so Vibes started to play Blitz Parody by Technoblade on the piano while Lier sung and botches along with a chord chart and a ukulele. Then Aria played Highway to Hell on the drum set, Vibes singing this time.

Once they were done, Vi grabbed her guitar and started playing The L’Manburg anthem. It became a drunk sing along, with Rib, Abi, and Vi herself joining in. Both Star and Corn joined in for the “Fuck Eret” line.

“I’m gonna cry,” Moon said, watching the scene in front of her.

“Don’t cry love,” Abi consoled, halting her singing.

“What’s wrong?” Vibes asked.

Lier came over with a tissue. “Happy tears?”

“Happy tears.”

“It all started on a day like any other!” Corn yelled in tune.

And they’re off again. Singing an Ode To L’Manburg.

Abi throws the bouquet at them. Vibes manages to catch it. Vi bites their arm in retaliation. Berl drags Vi away kicking and screaming.

“With a heart that she’d taken from me,” Star continues to sing the song in the background with Rib.

“Moony honey, are you okay?”

“This was beautiful.”

“It is! It’s lovely.” The two smile, just looking at the crowd.

Vi raises her shot over her head, standing on a table. “A toast to Moon and Abi, who I bet will divorce by December.”

“A toast to kicking Vi to the curb,” Lier mutters. Having given up on keeping people from hurting themselves, she again clinks glasses with Vibes again.

“Vi you are on a timeout you fucking little shit.” Abi yells.

“I bet they’ll do it by the month after October.”

“Rib!” Corn whacks zer across the back of zeir head.

Vibes goes to distract. “Let’s all have another round!”

“Moon it’s okay. C’mere.” Abi brings her partner in for a hug, before they murder two of their children.

Moon returns the hug as Aria screams in shock. “Guy this fucking wall is talking to me!”

“Aria that’s it. Time to go home. You are to drunk,” Vi says, slurring her words.

“Aria! Go home,” Abi yells. “I love you Moony,” she says quieter.

“I love you too.”

“No! Me staying her with ma best friend Moon!” Aria screams back; to the wall instead of the people. Huh. Maybe she should go home.

“A toast,” Vibes holds up their glass. “A proper one. For Abi and Moon; may they live happily ever after!”

“May they live ever after!” Star cheers.

“Cheers I guess…” Corn says, not sure what’s going on anymore. Too many drunk people.

“Cheers bitches!” Aria says, getting dragged by her legs while Vi yelled at her.

“Go. Home. You. Are. Drunk.”

“Vi, no.” Lier goes to dislodge the two. “Let Aria stay here with me.”

“Aria you want to come with me?” Vibes asks. “I have some ice.”

“She will be fine in my sight.”

Abi stares into Vi’s soul. “Put her down.”

“Okay mom.”

Aria’s feet drop to the floor and she just lays there. “No, I want to stay with Lier.”

“I love ice!” Rib calls from the other end of the room, where ze is standing really close to a vase.

A drunken Moon then starts giving out food from the kitchen people. Unnie decides that they don’t get paid enough to care.

Aria looks to Lier. “But I want ice.”

“Then get up. You can come with me to the ice machine.” The two of them go to where Rib and Vi are munching quietly with Star.

“Y’all can see the walls moving right?” Aria asks again.

“Uh, yeah, sure Aria. They’re doing jumping jacks and everything.” Abi says, grabbing a handful of ice for herself.

“Aria, I think I’m seeing that walls talk too,” Vi said way too loudly for their proximity.

Rib turned back to the vase. “So, ya come here often?” Ze was slurring zeir words all over the place.

“Aria sit down. Rib are you flirting that was vase?” Lier facepalmed.

“Yes Vi! They are talking!”

Lier stands up, leaving them to it. “I’m getting the hose,” she muttered to Vibes on her way out. “If I remember correctly Abi said arson was allowed after the ceremony.”

“These guys are so weak to alcohol, let’s hope they forget that.”

Vi knocks over Rib’s vase while talking to the walls with Aria. “Ooh! Mango!” She them proceeds to eat some.

“NOOOOO!” Rib cries. “My beloved!”

Vibes rushes over to get Vi to cough it up.

“Vi how could you!” Rib shouts.

“Cronch. Tasty.”

Aria picks that moment to start playing the death metal to get some good head banging. Abi tries to hold in her laugh, but can’t. Rib starts sobbing in an ugly drunken fashion, bopped zeir head as well.

“Well at least no one is hurt yet,” Vibes says when Lier returns with the hose.

Star is still sitting to the side, drinking her apple juice quietly now that their’s no songs within her vocal range to sing.

“Let’s do Coke!” Aria suggests.

“No. Aria. No.” Lier stands right in Aria’s face. “I will literally make a PowerPoint on why that’s a bad idea.”

“Yeah! Coke!” Vi cheers, but Aria is already trying to shush her.

“No. No. Coke.”

“Why?” Vi complains.

“You ate my future wife!” Rib yells.

Lier muttered a question to herself. “Is me holding the threat of an informative PowerPoint really enough to stop Aria?”

“It’s okay. I’m good. Sorry Lier. OMG no. No PowerPoint necessary!”

“Smile on nod,” Lier said to herself.

“PowerPoints are scary,” Aria explained.

“No they aren’t,” Abi piped up.

“Do you want her to do coke?”

Abi paused to take in the question. “PowerPoints are terrifying,” she says deadpan.

“Any song requests?” Star asked when the death metal ended.

“Something sad,” Rib said, “because that’s how I feel. I feel betrayed and backstabbed.”

“Could you do ‘Cost of the Crown’ for me?”

“Wait there’s a crown!” Abi jumped up. “I want a crown!”

Abi was very clearly drunk, so Vibes handed over a paper crown before she hurt herself.

“POG!”

“By a sibling no less!” Rib continued to scream.

“Shuddup out prick!”

“Shut up, murderer!”

As this conversation continues, Star starts to play ‘Let it Go’ on the piano. Abi and Vibes are dueling, not half badly, but defiantly in the wrong key.

“Fuck you! You murdered my beloved!”

“I’ll do it again fucker!”

“She ate my wife!”

“Rib and Violet. Calm. Down.” Vibes went to stand between them.

“It’s only a vase, calm down,” Ai adds.

“I WILL NOT CALM!”

“Rib calm down, Moon and I will get you another.”

“It wasn’t just a vase! It was the mother of my future children!”

“I’ll fix her if you calm down,” Abi reasoned.

“Okay. I’m calm. Fix her please.”

“I’ll fix her tomorrow, don’t you worry kiddo,” Abi  soothed.

“Don’t worry, she’s not gone yet,” Vibes said. “Just sleep for now Rib, she’ll be okay.”

“She’ll be even shinier than the day you met her kiddo, don’t you worry!”

Lier came over with a glass of ice. “Have some water before you dose off on us.”

“Yay!” ze said sleepily. “Ice.”

Lier starts putting the pieces into a large Ziplock bag.

“Are y’all gonna do some necromancy?! No!” Vi them process to charge at Lier, pushing her over and breaking the pieces into even smaller ones.

“Vi,” Lier falls back into a deathly calm tone. “We just got Rib is calm down.” She gets up and into Vi’s space. “I will slowly dismember you part by part if you do not shut up this moment”

“No!”

“Ok Vi. You’re right. I’m not going to hurt you. But please stop breaking the vase.”

Rib had started worry again. Abi started shushing her child again. “Don’t worry, Rib vasey is completely fine.”

“And now I will sing N/A my MegaPvP!” Vibes said. For the first time, Lier wondered if Vibes was truly sober.

Rib places an orange peel on Abi’s shoulder. “Here you go mother.”

“Huh?”

“Okay! Pack it up family! Time to go home!”

“But my vase!”

“Will get super glued together tomorrow.”

Lier finds where Ozzie has secluded themselves, and forces them to help get everyone into cars and home safely. Thank goodness she had had the foresight to book a couple vans and drivers.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #416

“don’t pray for me when you’re the one to blame  /  don’t think of me when you go up in flames”

Does your town/area have a farmer’s market? Do you ever buy your vegetables there rather than grocery store? Not close enough for us to actually go there for groceries, no. If you had a significant other and somehow got a chance to kiss your celebrity crush, would you still go for it? Well no, given Mark's been in a serious relationship for like six years, and I'd feel disloyal to my partner. I can just dream about it, ha ha. Do you tend to be attracted to people that are more similar to you in interests and mannerisms or do you tend to be attracted to someone opposite/complementing to you? I tend to be drawn to people I'm more similar to. What is a talent that a lot of other people desire or value but you really don’t care to have (e.g., singing, etc.)? *shrug* If someone asks you to hang out, but for some reason you’re just feeling lazy/don’t want to go anywhere, do you ignore them, make up an excuse, or just tell them the honest truth? Tbh, odds are I'm making up an excuse. Would you like to meet an alien? That would depend on its motives. It might have wisdom to share, or it may be nefarious, in which case I don't wanna meet it obviously. If so, would you trust them enough to go back with them to their planet? That's a no no matter how it acts. Trust issues, my friend. And that's with humans. What do you think is at the end of space. It's kinda science that space is infinite... Do you like D&D or Magic: The Gathering the most? I've never played D&D because I know I would be way, way too awkward to actually do it. M:TG is fun, though. What is your favorite Disney movie? TLKKKKK. What’s your favorite book series? Wings of Fire tops the list right now, but Warriors will always have a very special place in my heart. What’s something you wish they’d build in your neighborhood? Idk. Do you usually keep ponytail holders around your wrist? No. I don't even wear my hair in a ponytail because it's too short. Sunny D or orange juice? Orange juice. I have to be in a very specific mood for Sunny D. Can you snap out of a bad mood fast? Nooooo, unless something drastically good happens. How can a person tell if you’re mad or annoyed? My face will probably give it away, mixed with me being short and snippy or more awkward than normal because I'm trying to not be a bother. What’s something you enjoy that’s outside your age level? Certain TV shows. When your friends come and hang out at your house, what do you get up to? The only friend I have that I hang out with once in a blue moon is Girt, and we'd usually play board games or watch TV. Do you think it’s ignorant for people to have unprotected sex when they’re not ready for a child? Yes. Like yes, I'm pro-choice so won't look down on someone getting an abortion, but I still think you should be willing to act to prevent things from getting to that point where that procedure is chosen. For it or against it, abortion is a serious decision and should be treated as such. What were your favourite things to do as a child? My favorite thing had to be video games, specifically Spyro, and I also adored Webkinz and Neopets on the computer. I also loved playing make-believe with my toys like every other kid. I loved watching Dad play video games, too. I've also been a drawing fiend since I was very little. If you were shopping with your best friend, and they picked an outfit that was completely unflattering, would you tell them? I honestly don't know if I would. Her being comfortable and happy in it is what matters, anyway. Do you prefer using air-con or having the windows down when you’re driving on a hot day? Team A/C for sure. I hate the feeling of wind just slapping the hell outta your face and making a nest out of your hair. Can you ever manage to finish three courses when you go out to eat at restaurants? No. What would you say your favourite farm animal is? Pigs! They are so incredibly misunderstood. They're very intelligent, CLEAN (I know, can you believe it?), silly, and happy animals that I just adore. Is your ex currently in a relationship and if yes, how do you feel about that? Idk if "the" ex is with anyone, and it's for the better I don't, probably. Which one of your friends should be a stand-up comedian? Girt. Is your mom a better driver or your dad? Oh yeah. Dad tailgates like a motherfucker. What's your least favorite genre of music? Either rap or country, idk. Do you like poems? I do. Do you enjoy drawing? I have a love-hate relationship with it. I LOVE when something comes out the way I wanted it to, but if it doesn't, I feel very disappointed in myself and bash it into my head that I could do better. Do you even have any drawing talent? So I'm told. Have you ever seen The Sound of Music? Yes, in elementary school's music class. Ever seen Beetlejuice? If so, did you enjoy it? Oh yes, that was one of Jason's favorites. I liked it. How do you deal with oppressive heat? Complain, sweat my ass off, do anything I can to cool off that doesn't involve taking clothes off. What’s one thing that people definitely CAN’T count on you for? To remember pretty much anything whatsoever. What about something they definitely can count on you for? An ear to listen and a shoulder to cry on. How do you feel about your handwriting? I like it. Is there a store that bothers you immensely for some reason (people who shop there irritate you or the employees who work there are rude, etc.)? Uhhhh I don't think so. What’s something you complain about frequently? If I'm hot, or my legs hurting. If you’re home alone and someone knocks on the door, what do you do? Ignore it. I'm not answering. What’s one book that you have read that will stick with you forever? Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo. It's an anti-war pacifism novel, which is something I'm very much passionate about. Would you ever get one of those old school “mom” tattoos with the heart? No. I know with certainty I want a tribute to my mom when she passes, but definitely not that design. Are you a Giants fan? I don't care for sports, but the NYG always make me think of Jason's dad, who is like, obsessed with them. So I guess I feel a bit of warmness towards them just for memory's sake. Last time you went pumpkin picking? Never. Do you prefer eating corn straight off the cob or corn already taken off the cob? I think corn on the cob tastes better with all the butter and spices you can put on it, but I do enjoy off the cob too because it's just so much cleaner. Would you want your family to go on Wife Swap? Well, I live with my mom and she's divorced, so... I don't have to worry about this. How old is your current e-mail address? God, I've had it since I was a kid. Last time you conversed with someone in a language other than English? Not since taking a test for German in high school. Last video you favorited on YouTube? Oh my god, it was this video from my favorite reptile channel (Snake Discovery) of them taking their pet tegu to the park. She clearly had SO much fun. Now mind you I very rarely favorite things, so yeah, I adored the video. Do you like chocolate with coconut filling? Noooo, I'm not a coconut fan at all. What was the first thing you ate today? Mom made bacon, yuuuuum. Do you know how to play Mahjong? No. Mom loves it, though. Do you have any skirts longer than knee-length? I don't own any skirts. What’s the farthest you’ve gone with someone you weren’t dating? Just flirting. Ever had a promise ring? No. What about one of those “I’ll wait until marriage” rings (I think they’re called purity rings or something)? They're called abstinence rings, and yes, in HS. Funny how looking back I was definitely breaking that vow while I wore it lmao. What is the shortest time you’ve heard of people being together before getting married? My late grandma and her second husband got married SO fast. Like they were together for probably a couple months (maybe less?), then boom, the news came that they were engaged. Are any of your friends currently pregnant? Facebook friends, yes, which are mostly composed of old friends and acquaintances from school. One poor girl very recently got into a bad wreck, but thank goodness she and her unborn daughter are okay. Have you ever played golf? I loved playing putt-putt when I was younger, and then Jason and I once had a mini-golf date. It was really cute. When was the last time you waxed anything on your body, if ever? It's been some years since I used to wax my eyebrows. Have you ever been in a car accident? Yes. A minor one, but still. Can you honestly say you love the last person you kissed? Yep. Are you smiling in your Facebook profile picture? Yeah. Would you ever go on Fear Factor? Noooo. I would NEVER get past day #2 where they tend to do the disgusting shit, and I'm way too out of shape to do the wild stuff they do. What colour was the last mask you wore? Blue. Can any of your friends sing well? Which one has the nicest singing voice? Oh yes, Sara has an absolutely beautiful voice. When was the last time you had a nightmare? I had two last night, actually. I have this habit of taking my APAP mask off in the middle of the night because it's a nuisance, and I never remember doing so. When I do that, I'm much more prone to have nightmares because the mask helps my sleep apnea, which causes my nightmares/terrors. Where do you see yourself in ten years? I do NOT want to imagine this. It's either going to be beautiful or a fucking catastrophe, of that I'm sure. Does your family have traditions? Just pretty ordinary holiday ones. Have you ever met anyone half-way famous? Tez is famous, as far as I'm concerned. :') I also have some musician friends trying to make it, but idk how far they've actually gotten in the industry. Is there a celebrity that you are related to? No, just ancestors. Would you call your last relationship a mistake? Definitely not. Would you ever take up a job in photography? Ugh... that's the fucking dream. But I'm massively losing hope. Do you throw out your assignments once you’ve gotten them back? When I was in school, it depended on whether it would serve as good study material or not. Who was the last person you messaged on Facebook? My old friend Jenna messaged me a few days back just to say she was thinking about me and wished me well, which I really appreciated. Of course I messaged her back wishing her the same and all. Have you ever developed a crush on someone the first day you met them? Don't believe so, no. Do you have any friends who never shut up about their boyfriend/girlfriend? Well, I used to. She vanished. Have you ever showered with a member of the opposite sex? No. Don't want to. I want to be alone when I shower.

[nobody-wants-ice-cream]

Everything Wrong With The Umbrella Academy. Episode 8, I Heard a Rumor.

This episode is particularly brutal. Warnings include child abuse, domestic abuse, suicide, rape, gore, and manipulation. Keep yourself safe.

We Only See Each Other at Weddings and Funerals

Run Boy Run

Extra Ordinary

Man on the Moon

Number Five

The Day That Wasn’t

The Day That Was

Disclaimer: This is all in good fun! I wanted to do a really nitpicky re-watch of the series and found some really cool and interesting things I didn’t notice before. This is meant to have a Cinema Sins-esque tone. However, I did take off a lot more sins than Cinema Sins would have because I do genuinely like the series and the people that made it possible. So all of the good things got one sin off and all the bad things got one sin added. This is a really long post, so grab some popcorn. If there’s anything that I missed, feel free to add it!

I would also like to add that normally you wouldn’t watch a show this way. I am purposefully looking for mistakes, easter eggs, and other things that we’re not supposed to notice. I am watching not with the goal of entertainment, but for analysis. So most of the things that I sin, I am seeing for the first time.

Also, no I can’t do better. I am in no way qualified to give this level of criticism about anything. I am not taking this seriously. At all. 

I Heard a Rumor

Stormy Weather by Etta James. I adore this song. When I first watched the show I was so happy when this song came on.-1

I am also taking a sin off for the Emmy Raver-Lampman version -1

It looks like Allison genuinely adores her daughter. And Claire’s bedroom? I would want to have that room now and I am at least ten years older than her. -1

Speaking of, how old is Claire? Sin until we have answers. +1

The animations for the story of The Umbrella Academy defeating the robbers at the museum. -2

“While your Uncle Klaus got a little distracted.” What did Klaus do on missions again? +1

Allison carefully censors the mission so she is still telling the truth but doesn’t actually say that Diego used knives or that Ben used the horror to (presumably, we don’t know how much control Ben had) kill four people. Good job. See Reggie, this is how you don’t traumatise your kid with violence. -1

“Their leader.” Looks suspiciously like a villain from the comics. -1

“I wanna hear the one about the Eiffel tower.” Me too, Claire. Especially since the magazine clips we see suggest Five was there this time. -1

Mind control. ON A CHILD. This is what bothers me the most about Allison as a character and I am glad that she is moving past it. However, in no universe can I let this go. Depending on how Allison used it, Claire’s emotional control could be fucked for life. +40

Patrick behaves like a rational human being and doesn’t blow up at Allison for this in front of their child. He also divorces her in order to keep said child safe. Good. -1

“I heard a rumor you love me.” Who did she say this to? It doesn’t matter who, it’s still disturbing, but oh dear God who did she say this to? I think this is the second most fucked up thing we hear Allison say after the rumoring Claire scene. +10

Allison is going 120 kmh, or 75 mph, in the rain. If you have ever driven a car in the rain then you know exactly why I am sinning this. For those who don’t know, google hydroplaning. Allison could have died here very, very easily. +3

Title screen on a billboard! I forgot how cool the episode 8 title screen was. -1

Allison doesn’t bring her proof with her when going to confront Vanya, who has been shown to be irrational when it comes to Leonard. +1

Bird jumpscare. +1

“They want me to come back tomorrow be fitted for a prosthetic eye”. Leonard places emphasis on the words “prosthetic eye” to remind the viewers that Leonard is bad news. Good acting choice. -1

Leonard’s clothes look freshly bloody when the blood should be several hours old and therefore a more rusty brown color than a bright red. I think. I don’t know if that’s how it works with such large amounts of blood. +1

Luther’s bed is now magically big enough to fit both him and the rave girl. +1

Luther’s reaction to the rave girl. Rewatch this scene to get such a laugh at Luther’s face. -1

How out of it was Luther vs the rave girl? Consent issues on both sides. +3

Luther treated the rave girl to some wine? Or cranberry juice? How thoughtful. -1

I really, really hope they were safe though. There is no evidence to imply they were safe. (If you don’t know what I’m talking about then you’re too young to be watching TUA). +1

Klaus is such a little shit. “Wakey wakey! Eggs and bakey!” while ringing the bell. Peak sibling culture is doing this sort of thing while knowing that the other sibling is NOT going to appreciate it. Also, Klaus deserves his revenge after last night. -1

The little wave the rave girl gives Klaus. -1

Go back and watch this scene. Holy shit this is so underrated. This is the funniest thing ever. -1

“He popped his cherry! Now you’re gonna have to marry her” -4

Klaus doesn’t remember his first time. Consent issues. +3

“No dilly-dallying, alright?” I love Klaus. -1

Klaus makes french press coffee for Luther and Ben. Klaus is a good brother. -1

I would kill to see Ben’s reaction to Luther and the rave girl. +1

Five snatches Luther’s coffee and not Ben’s, ya know, the guy who can’t drink the coffee. And is invisible. Five is a dick to Luther or Five wanted to be a little shit to Luther after having to hear him and the rave girl. Either way, +1

He steals the coffee and he complains about it. +1

Ben! -1

“This is a bad idea” no shit. +1

The awkward pauses where Ben is presumably speaking don’t make sense here. +1

The camera trickery used to make Luther look like a giant compared to Five. -1

Five knows where the aspirin is “top shelf next to the crackers” because he was also hungover. I think. I can’t remember if FIve stopped back at the house, but presumably he and Luther had to go there to get the car. -1

Luther still isn’t getting up to get the aspirin even though he can listen just fine while getting it. +1

Ben adding to the dramatic tension of the scene in a uniquely humorous way that only this show can pull off. -2

Luther doesn’t believe Klaus about Reggie’s suicide. What reason would Klaus have to lie about this, Luther? +1

Five believes him right away. -1

Convenient Pogo backing up Klaus is convenient. +1

This has nothing to do with this very dramatic and important scene, but the mismatched chairs, while cute, don’t appear in any other scene. +1

Five calls Reggie a “sick bastard” under his breath. That’s one way to describe him. -1

Pogo kept this secret for a long time. Not telling the kids was a strange choice and I’m not sure why Pogo made it. On one hand, he would be respecting the wishes of his creator and friend but on the other he would be helping these people come to terms with their father’s death. Pogo’s character motivations are strange and I don’t understand them. +1

Luther said it best, “there’s always choice.” +1

Random thought I had, where was Harold’s grandmother when he was being abused and then going to jail because he killed his abuser? +1

Leonard says some nice things in this scene. If we didn’t know how manipulative he was I would give him credit for this line. +1

Agnes looks adorable out of the Griddy’s uniform. Costume/hair people, you did good. -1

Agnes keeps saying things like “we aren’t in a rush” and talking about seeing three years worth of stops to remind us that there is no time. Hazel looks heartbroken by it. -1

Allison abandons her vehicle. Do not take driving advice from The Umbrella Academy, ever! +1

Allison sees a random scarf from several cars away and immediately connects it with Vanya. Does she also have super sight? +1

The first time we see Allison get recognized by a random stranger for her acting is eight episodes in. +1

Cheddar (the cop Allison is talking to) is so enamored by Allison that he stops doing his job correctly. +1

“Jackpine cove” who named these towns? +1

Allison and Five have the same little shrug when they finish telling terrible lies. -1

Allison is a terrible liar. +1

Diego is still in jail. They’re talking about transferring him upstate. This is really bad news. +1

“Did she use that word? Contentious?” The definitions of contentious all say the word argument. Beeman says that Diego and Patch had an argumentative relationship. This matters to Diego. Why? +1

This conversation was written by someone who doesn’t understand the connotation of the word contentious. +1

Beeman encourages Diego to escape and go on the run. Are all the cops incompitent on this show? You have Patch, who hasn’t pinned Diego for obstruction of justice despite the show implying that Diego has touched evidence he wasn’t supposed to many times, Cheddar, who is so distracted by Allison freakin’ Hargreeves that he forgets that taking her along to a murder case is unethical at best, and Beeman who straight up encourages Diego to escape from jail. That last one is definitely illegal. +10

The parallel between Five and Leonard reading something they aren’t supposed to have in the bathroom. Both the apocalypse file and the journal are red, too. This means something but I don’t have the analysis skills to really go into it. If anyone wants to take a crack at it, go ahead. Sin removed because I know this is smart even if I can’t figure out why.-1

Vanya’s training implies that Reggie has been training these kids hard since they were at least four years old. +7

Current Sin Count: 73

Reggie doesn’t praise Vanya for breaking the glass, he just demands that she does it again. Say it with me now, Reggie is a dick. +1

Leonard straight up uses the word extraordinary. Sigh. +1

The description for how Vanya’s powers work (concentrate on a constant sound until that’s all you can hear and then use an emotional connection to target) is surprisingly good. This is the best description of somebody’s powers we’ve ever gotten in this show. -1

Klaus is attempting to get the yarn on the needle and failing miserably. This is one of the simpler, if tedious, things we do in knitting. Therefore, it is completely understandable how a beginner can’t make heads or tails of it. -1

Five is still injured. The old man walk gives it away. +1

Five treats Klaus like a second in command. I want more of this duo. -1

“So how’d the crazy bastard actually know to kill himself a week before the end of the world?” We would all like to know the answer to that question. Five would be excellent at cinema sins. +1

“Don’t answer, that was purely rhetorical.” Nice cop out, show. +1

Reggie used The Apocalypse to make his kids do the dishes. Checks out. +1

Five and Klaus bond over hating doing the dishes and the person making them do the dishes. Sibling culture. -1

“Where have you been?” “Jail. Long story.” The looks on Klaus and Five’s faces! -2

Vanya breaks the monocle. Good job, kid. However, if you know the comics then you know why I am mildly concerned about this. -1

“That will conclude your training for the time being.” Meaning the next 25 years. Reggie, you suck. +1

Now Vanya’s powers are a bit more vague and imply that she has super hearing. +1

Leonard’s training routine actually includes some praise, which is a step up from Reggie. However, a step up from Reggie is still someplace in hell, so it’s still a sin. +1

It’s also a sin because it’s uncontrolled and Vanya is afraid of it, yet Leonard keeps pushing her. +1

Leonard uses the kind of language Reggie would use to describe Vanya’s powers. Checks out because he read Reggie’s book and is using his ideas to train Vanya. +1

Helen Cho’s missing person poster reminds the viewer that Leonard is bad news. +1

Vanya plays for the St. Pluvium Chamber Orchestra. First of all, no they have a conductor. +1

Second of all, “Pluvium” means of or relating to rain. The Umbrella Academy fights against the leader of the rain orchestra in episode 10. Who came up with that pun? That is absolutely hilarious. -1

Based on a post by @seven-valid-libras I think Griddy’s is across the street from this bar? I am not 100% sure. If it is then that’s a sin off because Agnes definitely has a bunch of drunk people coming in for doughnuts every now and then. I lowkey want to write this fic. -1

“Maybe they’ll brood each other to death” Is this a reference to the fact that Luther and Diego were both too emo for umbrellas in episode 1? -1

I feel so bad for Luther right now. Reggie really fucked with his head. +1

After hearing that Vanya’s boyfriend is a convicted murderer, Luther is more concerned for Allison than he is for Vanya. +1

Diego’s face when Luther says “you should have led with that!” [the fact that Allison went after a convicted murderer alone] -1

Luther is right. Diego should have led with that. +1

Luther breaks the door in his rush to get out of the bar. Checks out. -1

Mary J. Blige. -1

The shop is closing because Agnes is leaving? Who owns Griddy’s? +1

And if the shop is closing, then why leave doughnuts on the shelf? Are they gifts for the other waitresses who are now out of a job? +1

Agnes keeps a flamingo (presumably, scented) candle in a bakery. +1

Cha Cha was way too close to that explosion to not get some scratches at the very least. +1

Sergeant Cheddar is letting Allison stay in the room while he interrogates Mr. Luntz (the man that survived Vanya’s powers). +1

What kind of person allows themselves to be hired by some guy in order to beat him up in front of his girlfriend? Who does that? Are there people like that who exist in real life? +1

Allison doesn’t get pissed off when Luntz says that they started to hurt the girl (Vanya) too. +1

Sgt. Cheddar finally gets pissed off with Allison after she starts leading Luntz. This took way too long. +1

“What I really need to do is practice,” said every musician ever. Including me. As I’m typing this I’m putting off practicing. Vanya is calling me out. I deserve it. +1

Also, Vanya just got first chair and so far she still hasn’t learned the solo the day before the concert. That is such a mood. -1

The cracks in Leonard’s personality are finally starting to show. If Harold was smart he would let Vanya do this without attempting to manipulate her into more practice. +1

Vanya left her violin propped up in the middle of a sofa. That is a broken violin waiting to happen. +1

Where is her rosin? Don’t tell me she reuses the same rosin and doesn’t clean her instrument. Please. +2

Leonard doesn’t tell Vanya where he will be going. He just sort of leaves without a note. This would be fine if this universe had cell phones, but it doesn’t. Leonard is a dick. +1

Agnes would like to spend her (Hazel tells her it’s hypothetical but we know it’s not) last two days on Earth with Hazel. That is so sweet. But also, they met less than a week ago. +1

This is the turning point that makes Hazel an active character that wants to stop the apocalypse. Finally some character motivation that makes sense! Whoop! -1

They Call Me a Fool by Damon is another one of my favorites from the soundtrack. What can I say, I’m a sucker for jazz. -1

There is a parallel between Five leaving Vanya’s apartment and Leonard leaving her at the cabin. Her brother (whom I assume she loves) and the man she is infatuated with both leave her at some point without warning. The people who Vanya loves keep leaving her. +2

Vanya puts her violin down on a chair and lets the bow fall. Bows are expensive. +1

“I made a secret place just for you. None of your siblings get to play there.” Of course Reggie is framing it this way. He’s scared of her. +1

The further away from Pogo the camera is, the less real he looks. +1

Reggie and Pogo locked Vanya in this cage. +1

Vanya’s violin bow fell down but in the next shot it’s propped on the chair. +1

Sgt. Cheddar tells Allison to stay put but has no way to verify that she actually will. Also, if he’s such a fan then shouldn’t he know that she used to be a superhero? +1

Allison kept her proof about Leonard/Harold in the car again. +1

“I love you. And I wanna be here for you as your sister.” -1

“I love him.” Vanya you met him less than a week ago. +2

If there was ever a wrong time to bring up the fact that you took Vanya’s powers away and left her with a horribly low self esteem due to the poorly worded “I heard a rumor that you think you’re just ordinary”, it would be now! Now is the wrong time to bring this up! +10

Reggie used Allison to make Vanya powerless. Reggie is a dick. An absolute bastard. A complete scumbag. Etc. +20

Reggie has also been drugging Vanya since she was FOUR YEARS OLD. +50

Insert Reggie insults here. Feel free to come up with your own in the tags. Fuck this guy repeatedly with a rusty chainsaw. +20

Vanya is not in the right state of mind to understand that Reggie is the one that made Allison rumor her. +1

The final fight between Allison and Vanya is heartbreaking. Emmy Raver-Lampman and Ellen Page are excellent actresses. -5

Vanya’s skin keeps getting paler and paler. Foreshadowing. -1

This is the only time Allison attempts to use her powers in the show. To save her life. I would say that it is pretty justified. -1

Violin bows are not sharp enough to cut human flesh. Is this another part of Vanya’s power? +1

Gore warning! This is super fucked. Not gonna lie, I gag a little every time I see this.+4

Vanya is freaking out and then Leonard walks in. Vanya’s mental state is completely out the window at this point. +4

Leonard manhandles Vanya into letting her sister die (as far as they know) on the floor of the cabin. +10

Allison has definitely lost enough blood to kill her, yet she survives this. +1

Leonard went out to kill Luntz. +10

Nobody in the car (Five driving, Klaus shotgun, Luther and Diego in the back) is wearing a seatbelt. +1

Also, of these four people, Five is the most qualified to drive right now? Diego is sitting right there! And we saw Klaus drive the ice cream truck! Luther would have some trouble driving because he’s so large. But really?? +2

“Can you go any faster?” “Ask me again and I’ll burn you with the cigarette lighter.” The comic relief doesn’t really land here because the scene before was so dramatic and the music is still playing. To change the mood, the song would also have to change. +2

Independently, that is a pretty funny Grandpa Five line. -1

Including Ben in the scene where they find Allison bleeding out on the floor is a subtle reminder to the audience that if Allison was dead, Klaus would be able to see her ghost. The lack of a ghost means she is still alive. +1

Also, this scene has all the original members of The Umbrella Academy in it. Look how far they’ve come from the bank robbery. +6

No one is checking for a pulse right now. They’re just assuming that Allison is dead. +10

Overall Review: It goes without saying that this episode is fucking brutal. When I first watched it I had to stop and go do something else for a while because of the rumor reveal and the throat thing. That was really, really concerning. Props to Emmy Raver-Lampman. She fucking killed it this episode. If anyone was wondering if she was a good actress (ya know because of all the “come look at this” lines she kept getting) then this episode made it very clear that she can act and she does it very, very well. 

So, Vanya’s sanity is out the window, Allison is down for the count, and no one cares about the apocalypse right now. That last one is understandable because of Allison’s situation, but damn it really isn’t looking good for the Hargreeves siblings. 

Also, I want to talk about something. This is the last episode in which Allison and Vanya are both capable of speech. And in the eight hours we have known these two women, they have had multiple conversations. All of them have been about a man. Their brothers, their father, Patrick, or Leonard/Harold. Seriously, the two women in this show that are main characters never have a conversation that isn’t about a man. There is no excuse. With the fridging and this, you have to wonder if the writers on this show hate women or something? I don’t normally add sins post analysis, but I think I will make an exception for this one. +100

Total: 283

Sentence: Serious gore. 

[sorneth]

Interview: Sorneth Caduceus

► Name ➔ He grinned. “Ser Sorneth Caduceus, Bard of renown, and teller of stories. ...Also a knight of Ishgard now apparently” he offered with a side ward slant of his eyes “bit of a funny tale that one.” ► Are you single ➔ He chuckled warmly, as a smile formed that not only curved along his lips but brought a fond narrowing of his eyes. “Not in the slightest. I’m the husband of Maxia Caduceus, and happily so. While we do have our problems sometimes, that’s simply the way of it. A relationship is like a garden, you tend it together, and you enjoy both the good times, and weather the bad side by side.” ► Are you happy ➔ He offered a nod. “Most of the time. I have many, many things around me that bring a smile to my face, and a warmth to my heart. While occasionally my mind does get the better of me, I’m fortunate that I can often find pleasant company to help ease me back into my usual, jovial self.” ► Are you angry? ➔ The bard falls silent for a moment, a frown pulling across his lips as the fingers of a gloved hand curl inwards towards his palm briefly. “Overall?” his tone flows gently upon smooth silver “No, I’m content and at peace. It’s merely specific subjects that are likely to light a fire in my blood. But they rarely if ever surface in normal conversation.” ► Are your parents still married ➔ This brought the man’s head to tilt, before giving a brief huff of a chuckle. “I don’t even know my parents, but I imagine they still are. Divorce is not an option where I come from, I’m... pretty sure the marriages are pre-arranged as well. Aids in the selective breeding.”

(Cut for Length)

EIGHT FACTS

► Birth Place ➔ The bard’s eyes closed gently... “A place far more ancient then you can fathom. My people have been around since the star was torn into fourteen pieces. Isolated and kept safe in a homeland so deep beneath the surface of our world, that not even the veins of corrupted aether from the fragments of Dalamund’s fall could reach or affect it. I -am- from the Shroud, just way more vertically down then most forest-born.” ► Hair Color ➔ He grinned, as a hand lifted to pinch one of his bangs within his fingertips. “Naturally this silver, even the white highlights mixed in.” ► Eye Color ➔ His head tilted, offering a better view of his eyes as the moon-white iris’ seemed to glow against the dark grey backdrop. “Moon white, I was told this is the result of those born beneath a Full Moon, on the Winter Solstice. The night influenced me, and thus my eyes reflect my connection to the sunless sea. It’s a rare trait among my people, near to the point of prophecy.” He shrugged “If there is one about me, I don’t know it. I simply am who I am.” ► Birthday ➔ He frowned gently.. “Aside from having been born on the Winter Solstice? Well, that’s if the stories of my eyes are true. Honestly I... actually have no idea. I use the solstice to track my years, when it passes, I consider myself a year older.” ► Mood ➔ He grinned again, this time with one that even narrowed his eyes with mirth. “Playful, flirtatious, good humored, affectionate, creative, modest, honest, loyal, kind, generous. Depends on the day, depends on the time, depends on the company. But generally I’m told that I can be quite a darling, and that I’m pleasant to be around, and easy to get along with.” His smile softened to one of nearly being bashful as he lowered his head and scratched at his cheek. “I just try and give people a reason to smile, there’s enough in the world to feel horrible about. Bard’s are meant to lift people up, after all.” ►Gender ➔ He offered a rich, deep laugh as his arms flowed out from his sides with upturned palms. “Male, obviously. Though... if you want to open up my pants just to make sure, your welcome to...” he offered a wink. “I’m like a museum, can look as much as you want - just don’t touch anything.” ► Summer or winter ➔ “Winter” he stated without a breath of hesitation “I hate the heat, and enjoy the snow, cold, and peacefulness that comes with the season. While game can be a bit more difficult to hunt, I still prefer it over the thick of summer any day.”  ► Morning or afternoon ➔ His smile sweetened. “Morning, very early morning just after midnight. That’s usually when my day usually begins, and I can still drink in the starlit skies as I go about my training routines. It’s quiet, tranquil, few people bother me, and I can lose myself to the routines as if they were meditation.” He sighed out blissfully... “It also lets me finish, come back to the house, and start on breakfast right as my beloved starts rolling themselves out of bed.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love ➔ His smile grew fond, eyes closing to a gentle, reflective half lid as a soft sigh of contentment parted his lips. “I am fully, and without a doubt in my heart.” The words flowed with a steeled resolve, and an embers warmth as his hand lifted to run the pad of his thumb along the wedding band on his finger. “He is my guiding stars, my strength, my resolve, my present and future. My beloved has claimed me utterly, mind, heart, and soul. Even when were apart, my thoughts drift to him effortlessly, my muse behind everything that I do.” ► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ The bard’s head tilted, only to tilt again in the other direction before his shoulder’s bobbed in a gentle shrug. “Yes and No. I believe that for some, those who have lived before, there is the chance for a re-kindled connection upon first crossing paths with the one who loved you before. A recognition of their soul, just as they recognize yours in kind. But that.. is merely remembrance.” He lifted a hand to tap two fingers over his heart. “Love, is something you fall into all over again - even with such a destined lover. You grow to know them as they are in this life, finding a fondness for them all over from the beginning. A connection is at first sight, love... grows after.” ► Who ended your last relationship ➔ The frown that flowed over the man’s lips was near a sneered grimace. “...The Ishgardians, their ‘inquisitors’ in fact. They arrested my last lover for writing ‘unhalonic’ texts and distributing his fiction to the general public.” He sighed out softly... “They held him for a long time, over a year, and by the time he was released... I had already left Ishgard and had resumed my way of life long before. If they had not, I likely would have stayed, likely continued to grow what we had between us. ...We were close.” ► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ The bard’s head was swift to shake. “No. Never. It’s why I’m always as clear in my communication as I am, honest, genuine, sincere. Unlike most bards, I don’t desire to eat hearts where I go and leave them shattered within my wake. I... have far too much respect for people to do that.”  ► Are you afraid of commitments ➔ The bard grinned, and merely lifted up his hand to show the Ishgardian Steel wedding band shaped like a dragon that circled his ring finger like an Oroboros. “...Does this answer your question?” ► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ He chuckled warmly as a wolfish grin settled over his features. “Of course! My hand’s can’t keep themselves off of my beloved, for one. For two, my friends are used to that being simply how I greet them.” ► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ He offered a sharp, loud, huff of a laugh. “I wish, if only for the experience...” he smirked “If I have one, their so secret even I don’t know about them.” ► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ The bard winced, before offering a soft frown as his eyes closed with a side ward flick of his gaze. “...Many times. To spare others pain, hardship, complications, or torment I have had to walk away when I’d rather I not have to on many occasions. It’s how I’ve managed to avoid breaking the hearts of others, my own takes the blow on their behalf, many I imagine aren't even aware of it.”

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust ➔ The bard huffed out his breath with a shake of his head... “Come now, you can’t possibly make me choose between those?” he arched a brow, only to frown when the question was indeed serious. “Stars, for me you can’t have one without the other. I don’t have sex with people, just to have sex with people. I have to be fond of them to some degree, otherwise it’s just using another person for your own pleasure, which is something I can’t stomach.” His shoulder’s shrugged “When I’m in love? My love is both emotional and physical. If I can’t explore my beloveds likes, dislikes, passions, and build a dynamic with them. If I can’t set my blood on fire and show them how I feel in the most intimate manner known to mortal kind. What then, separates our bond from just having a very deep, platonic friendship?” His head shook, and a palm lifted with a shake as well. “Not for me, my beloved better accept that I’ll be an outright horn dog for them, and realize that it’s because of the fact I love them so much.” ► Lemonade or iced tea ➔ He grinned. “Tea, without contest. Specially when sweetened with honey, or fruit juice mixed in with it.’ ► Cats or Dogs ➔ “Dogs” the wight didn’t even hesitate, though after a moment of thought he did quirk a brow. “..Unless you mean cat men and women, in that case I’ll heavily consider changing my opinion.”  ► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ The bard smirked a smile, fond and sweet. “Few best friends. As a bard acquaintances and regular connections are helpful, and do well to ease the quiet and loneliness at times. But they are infrequent, and prone to falling out of contact on that individuals whim. Such is why I prefer a few close, stable, consistent people in which to invest myself and a bond with.” ► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ “Romantic Night In” the words came with a sharp, swift fondness as a smile curled into place along his lips. Even his hands lifted, flowing as he continued... “A candlelit bath, incense scenting the air, two glasses of blush wine laced with just a small hint of clove oil to spark the desire. Worshiping your beloveds skin with the fond caress of fingertips, and the reverent kiss of lips. Exploring them, making their breath catch within their throat, and their heart quicken. A romantic sensuality...” ► Day or night ➔ “Night” he said plainly and with a swiftness. “The Sunless sea is the home of the celestials, my deities. To be beneath it is to be as if within a church, and thus I do most if not all of my activities of import beneath a starlit sky. Cloaked in their blessed shadows, and illuminated by moonlight. To have something of importance happen in the suns light is to welcome ruin to it. Or so my people have long believed.”

FOUR HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out ➔ “Not yet, though I think my beloved’s senses are slowly becoming keener to my methods. For now however, they seem to only notice my absence after a few hours have passed, and I’ve yet to be caught in the act.” The bard then reached up a hand, and promptly knocked on the wooden part of the wall behind him.  ► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ “Unfortunately...” the sigh that left his lips was a heavy one as his eyes rolled. “Take it as advice, or wisdom. But do not get drunk within the forgotten knight and then attempt to navigate the pillars of Ishgard while intoxicated. It does not end well for you, or the unfortunate parties having to tend to you afterwards.” ► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ “To want for something unobtainable, is simply an excuse to use it as motivation towards a means to obtain it. But when that want is for a person?” he sighed softly... “That is a pain not so easily twisted into optimism. Nor does acceptance come easy, or quickly.” ► Wanted to disappear ➔ The bard offered a chuckle. “I have, and succeeded. That is all I will offer on the matter, as I would very much desire to keep it that way.”

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes ➔ The bard’s hand lifted, before pointing two fingers to his moon-white orbs. “Eyes” he stated firmly “For some, a smile has become impossible to form as they’ve long forgotten how over the duration of their suffering. But if you look into their eyes, you can see even in the depths of their pain, their fighting against the inner demons, the shimmer of warmth that tells of the difference you’ve just made. No matter how brief.” ► Shorter or Taller ➔ He grinned. “Shorter, there is a lot I can do romantically with someone smaller then me. From sweeping them off their feet, to curling up around them in bed. Besides, it’s hard to find people taller then me, and of those that do - generally were more for sparring outside of the bedroom then in one.” ► Intelligence or Attraction ➔ “Intelligence” he offered swiftness and a smile. “A pretty face is pleasant, but a sharp mind is what I thrive on most. The trading of sass, wit, sarcasm, humor, and being able to collaborate with another over my creative ideas are things I cherish.” He then offered a rich, deep laugh. “I often say, the fastest way to get me to fall in love with you, is to roast me so well that I’m left with the only option of laying in the grave you made me dig for myself without even realizing it.” ► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ The bard offers a firm nod. “Relationship. While hook-ups are fun, for a while, they loose their luster easily enough and leave the heart wanting more. Thus, is why I invest my time into my relationships with others, be they romantic or platonic. It’s these meaningful connections, nurturing them, growing them, developing them, that bring me the most fulfillment.”

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along ➔ The bard offered a thick, sarcastic laugh. “I was separated from my parents as soon as I was old enough to pick up a wooden sword, as is custom. The only brothers I’ve ever known, are my fellow hunters and we... Well, we get along like brothers. If were not drinking together, were fighting one another either to settle an argument, or out of sheer pleasure and enjoyment. So I shall leave that up to your interpretation.” ► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ His head shook gently. “No. While some who hear my story, and are privy to the more guarded details, may surely think so. I never once considered myself of having been subjected to a ‘tragic backstory’. My life is what it is, and had to be what it was, for me to become what I have.” He shrugged. “My life is what it needed to be, to be what it is, and will become.” ► Have you ever ran away from home ➔ His head shook again. “No, never. I’ve been loyal to the end, and left home only when there was no one else there to linger around for.” ► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ His shoulder’s bobbed with a deep, rich chuckle. “I was... voluntarily exiled” he stated slowly, and with keen purpose. “When we become hunters, we are condemned to live out the rest of our lives on the surface, fulfilling our duties until the day the Monsters we hunt succeed in killing us.”

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ “Stars no!” the answer came swiftly, and with a turn of the bard’s head in worry. “I have so few of them, and new ones don’t just grow on bushes in the middle of the forest. I’m an honest person, if I have a problem with someone, I tell them so. Now... if that results in me being punched in the face for it or not, is another matter.” ► Do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ The bard’s head shook lightly. “I have two good friends, the rest are... barely more then acquaintances. While I would desire more, that is not up to me but rather others to decide if they wish to get to know me or not. But I can see how a white eyes, silver haired, silver tongued Wight can be intimidating.” ► Who is your best friend ➔ “Honestly?” he sighed softly, and his head sank into his hand with a rubbing of his fingertips against his temples. “...My horse. I tell them everything I do when not with them, and they witness everything I do when within their company.” ► Who knows everything about you ➔ “My horse, for reasons previously stated..” 

Tagged by: @umbralich​

Tagging: All of my followers who have not done this yet, and desire to. It was quite fun, even though it took over four hours to do.

[subzeroparade]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Bloodborne (Video Game) Characters: Gehrman (Bloodborne), Laurence (Bloodborne) Additional Tags: their Byrgenwerth-era misspent youth, speculative worldbuilding, First Meetings, Gehrman's thankless job babysitting a self-important dandy, only a little slashy if you squint Summary:

Admittedly, Gehrman would not have thought to watch for scholars voluntarily skulking off to certain death. Is there a word, he wonders, for audacity so blinding it’s deadly?

-

Wrote another little Byrgenwerth-era oneshot to take a break from working on a longer, larger Healing Church piece. If you’ve read parts of my Bloodborne work, they all follow the same timeline, including this.

@bornetoblood kindly let me take a headcanon and run with it, broadly, as a prompt: They first meet when Laurence gets himself lost in the labyrinths. Gehrman is the one sent to retrieve him.  

[lewooinsa]

I love the one on one sessions! I’m not sure what the aim of them is so I just speak and listen as much as possible. We have a booklet to work through levels but it’s much easier to do at night for homework.

We spoke of health and activities - it being more common in the countryside for girls to have children at 15 with most people having children around 23. One of the staff have 3 brothers and 5 sisters, so big families are not uncommon too. Many people of wealth get plastic surgery and wear makeup, but it’s so expensive for these superficial things due to European companies controlling the market. Approx $15 for a bottle of makeup or skin care cream, which is about $20 AUD when the average wage would get them about $100 per week. Chile supposedly has the best economy of SAm due to better produce, fewer political problems, no doubt better access for exports.

We spoke of natural disasters. She said there are more storms near the coast, but if they happen here (inland) it can be very dangerous if you’re outside as it can impact you. She said many people have died from this 😢 The buildings here are made from clever materials for the number of earthquakes they have.

In schools, the food is provided for lunchtimes. In previous governments students could have foods like rice, vegetables, juice, yoghurt, meats, tuna etc. According to the locals, currently, they have more plain foods like wafers, milk, soup or a rice dish. We compared school stories, discipline strategies. I taught her the phrase “like herding cats”. She adopted it 😂

We were discussing the size of people and influences on size after I read the article below. My teacher said for more wealthy families, if their child is shorter they might get them to swim more?! Or can also get a hormone injection from the doctor. Apparently Lionel Messi had this 🤭 This got us talking about what is natural and what is not, and whether it would be considered cheating!

In the arvo there’s a nearby ex-factory of indigenous crafts. I had a tour with a kichwan man who was so kind and spoke in depth about the customs and difficulties through time of the kichwa people. So much specialist information came from this but a few interesting points in summary:

The buildings are made from special kinetic magnetic materials to bond but still be flexible for the earthquakes. Many indigenous towns were destroyed from earthquakes (sismos)

When the Spanish came, much of the clothing and expectations of the indigenous changed, and it was a requirement that different indigenous groups wore different coloured ponchos.

As usual, during a conquering state, indigenous were put to work as slaves, including some of the first cotton mills in the world and with other textiles. The vineyards in which they worked were known as “fields of blood” from the numbers who died working there.

For matrimony, a couple is bound for life (no divorce). If separated, or with another person, the perpertrator is punished with a whip like a catoninetails.

For albinos who existed prior to the conquistadors’ arrival, these people were covered with a hat of danglies made from gold and jewels including a shoulder piece. This was to protect them from the sun but also as a sign of speciality among the community.

In their homes, they would have Cuy (guinea pigs) living among them, often up to 100 sleeping under there bed! They’d communicate to other towns via horn.

There are many healing herbs and medicines such as quinine (for malaria) and the diversity of plants represents the community of other kichwan sectors.

In death, a ceremony is performed for 3 days and nights with offerings of 12 items. People come together to help open the way to the after life. On the final night, the community sort of howl together to release the spirit. This process helps with grieving too.

Kichwan natives live by the moon. Knowing the cycles for when to do everything. Eg the best time to cut your hair or grow something etc.

Some kichwan words include: guagua (baby) ayayay! (When something goes wrong) Or atatai (when you bang you finger) or achachai (when your teeth are chattering from the cold!)

[jeonsdear]

Milk and Moonshine

↬ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader (oc: female) ↬ Genre: neighbour!au, art student!taehyung, fluff ↬ Rating: sfw ↬ Word Count: 2.3 K ↬ Warnings: none ↬ Accompanying song:  Billie Eilish (with Khalid) - lovely ↬ Summary:

Kim Taehyung was everything this neighbourhood wasn’t: Warm, playful, kind and artsy. And he had your milk.

↬ Notes: This little oneshot is my attempt at conquering my writer’s block *cries a little*. Shoutout to @softjeon   for inspiring this story and coming up with the title xx

—  Fic also posted to Ao3 —  English isn’t my first language so excuse any mistakes  —  I track jeonsdear fanfiction (follow the tag for updates) — If you don’t want to miss any more updates, you can sign up for being tagged in my works here. 

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There were exactly three kind of people you would find in a club on a Tuesday night: University students whose rhythm of life didn’t match the expectations of the working population, middle-aged men that were going through a divorce and hoped to find some validation in the crowd of young 20-something women and finally, people like you.

Your eyes scanned the crowd of sweaty bodies while your hands were working on cleaning the tequila glass before putting it back in its place. One of your colleagues caught your eyes and subtly moved his head in the direction of the unconventional couple in the very back of the club. The bass of the music echoed in your bones while you observed how the quickly-balding man put his hand on the thigh of the girl and leaned forwards to whisper some sweet vanities in her ear, making the female giggle. If you weren’t wrong, and you never were, this girl was still a minor. Meaning your bouncer missed a fake ID. You nodded your head at your colleague, thereof he moved away from behind the bar and pushed his way through dancing bodies to seek out your club’s doorkeeper.

With your psychology degree came a mountain of debts and housing expenses, and while you had tried finding a part-time job for the hours you had no classes to attend, you had had no luck. So when your roommate from freshmen year had proposed on working behind the bar of her father’s club downtown, the promise of well-paid nightshifts had lured you in. And granted, you came to like it. While normally you would barely be able to keep your eyes open after a whole day of back to back classes, the loud music and the screaming colours of the lights had your head buzzing. Swaying from side to side to Dua Lipa’s new song, you saw how your bouncer approached the couple, radiating danger. Mino’s appearance was absolutely terrifying and you couldn’t help but chuckle at how the man covered behind his female companion. While your bouncer looked like he could kill men with bare hands, everyone who knew him outside of this club knew his vegan soul couldn’t even harm mosquitos. You saw Mino’s lips moving and you were pretty sure he was threatening the male with the police. Not only did he, most probably, provide the girl with a fake ID but he also obviously made sexual advances towards a minor. While not all of society’s daytime rules applied to the club, the security of minor’s was taken very seriously.

It was close to four when you stepped out into the chilly morning air, taking a deep breath and allowing your body to loosen up. You knew it would take your head the whole twenty-minute walk to your apartment for it to forget the strong bass of the music.

The autumn leaves crunched under your feet as you thought about how peaceful it felt being up while everyone was still asleep. Life was better when the moon was watching over you. People stopped acting like society constructed machines, working their nine to six jobs and coming home to loveless marriages.

When you approached the tall building, your small apartment was located in, you wondered whether Taehyung was up already. Kim Taehyung was your neighbour and more than often your source of life-saving milk. Due to your night-time job and your daytime student occupation, getting groceries was not your top priority. But you needed your bowl of cereal after you’ve woken up. It was mandatory. By now, you probably owed him a few litres.

Pressing the button for the escalator, you hummed while waiting for it to arrive. When the doors opened you entered the small space that reeked of pee and thing you didn’t want to know about. This building was as sleazy as the whole neighbourhood but rent was low and you couldn’t afford to be fussy. And at the end of the day you fit in. With your clothes and hair smelling of smoke and alcohol, your eyes lined with dark eyeliner and lips dark red. Like many residents of this apartment complex you came home in the wee hours of the morning. You really fit in. Unlike the boy that appeared on the other side as the escalator doors opened on your level.

Kim Taehyung was everything this neighbourhood wasn’t: Warm, playful, kind and artsy. As soon as he saw you, his boxy smile lit up his pretty and slightly sleepy face and both your arms moved forward to keep the doors open.

“Morning.”, both of you breathed out at the same time and his low laugh made you smile. Taehyung really was a stark contrast to his surroundings, you realized, as you took in his appearance. Face framed by light, tussled hair he was spotting round glasses today. He had a colourful button-down tucked into his lightly wrinkly dress pants while the loafer on his feet looked worn out. Kim Taehyung was a contradiction and he knew it. He looked like he belonged to the part of town full of artists and not in the neighbourhood of night owls. And he definitely wasn’t dressed for his job at the bakery, but both of you knew that this is where he was heading to.

“Good night?”, he asked while still spotting his smile, eyes taking in your make-up.

“I like the purple.”

He pointed at your eyeshadow and you grinned because it had literally taken you an hour to make your eyes look like the dawn.

“Thanks. I like the glasses. Are you off to work?”

“Yep. And you’re off to bed?”

“Yeah.”

He lowered his head slightly and smiled at you through his thick eyelashes. Taehyung was ridiculously beautiful and you couldn’t help the light blush coating your cheeks.

“So…will you ask me for milk again tonight?”

His undertone was teasing but you still pouted at him before you nodded shyly.

“Probably?”

Taehyung grinned widely and moved into the space of the escalator while you stepped outside.

“I’ll make sure to get some after my shift then.”, he winked before the doors closed on you.

You probably should feel bad for constantly asking him for milk…oh no you definitely should. But it also meant that you got to see him often, and you might just have to sacrifice your pride for this minor detail.

And that’s how it was for several months. You coming home from work and Taehyung leaving for work. Asking him for milk when you woke up and him making sure he always had some in the fridge.

You had never asked him but the paint on his pants from time to time made you assume he was an art student. It wouldn’t surprise you, if you were honest. Taehyung radiated art. The way he looked, talked, walked and smiled. Taehyung was art.

Chuckling about your thoughts, you swirled your hair up into a ponytail before splashing cold water onto your puffy face. It was only noon but since today was your free day you decided to binge on Netflix instead of sleeping in. Honestly, you deserved bombarding yourself with brain cell rotting content.

Gulping down some orange juice you noticed you were out of milk once again. With a guilty sigh you nibble at your lip while the fridge hummed in the background. Did the number of times you appeared at Taehyung’s door asking for milk already border on disrespect? Should you just head down and buy your own pack? But that would mean you wouldn’t have an excuse to talk to him. And he never signalised he was annoyed, did he? He would have surely said something if he wanted you to stop asking him for milk.

Quickly changing into something else than your PJ’s, you stepped out of your door and walked down the hallway towards apartment 35. You knew that Taehyung had to be back from his job at the bakery at this time and his Thursday class wouldn’t start until 4. The wooden door looked like it was about to fall apart any second, so your knuckles against it kept the knocking soft. The jazz tunes coming from within and the low grunting confirmed your assumption of the boy being home. And a few moments later, Taehyung appeared in your view, spotting tousled hair and light sweat running down his neck.

Seeing you, a huge grin took over his face before he mentioned for you to come in.

“Fridge.”, is all he said while you stood frozen on your spot.

His whole apartment was filled with moving boxes, books spilt all over the floor and pictures in the process of being wrapped.

“You’re lucky I haven’t cut the fridge off yet.”, he hummed while stepping over a pile of books, not noticing how you weren’t following him.

Slowly you closed the door behind you while your thoughts were racing.

Was he moving away? Why? Why did he not tell you? Or did you forget it? Where was he moving?

“You…you are moving?”

Even to your own ears your voice sounded empty and you tried to mask it with an awkward chuckle.

“Hmm.”, he nodded while he stood on his tiptoes to take down a drawing from the wall.

“But why?”

You sounded like you couldn’t fathom why anyone would consider moving away from this horrendous place and it made Taehyung love.

“I moved here with the hopes of finding inspiration. For this year’s art project.”

“And you didn’t?”

His shoulders visibly tensed before Taehyung turned around and smiled at you.

“Oh no I have. But I have submitted it already. And no offence but this place is terrible, it really kills my usual muse.”

His usual muse?

“I-I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Taehyung smiled and pointed towards a wall of drawings, each one of them radiating life. Sunrises, puppies, abstract drawings with bright colours and a one portraying a group of boys.

“That’s what I like. Do you understand now?”

You nodded slowly before hesitatingly smiling up at him.

“I always thought you were out of place here.”

“Geez, thanks!”, he laughed while you counted the moles on his face. Ever since he had grabbed your hand he hadn’t let it go and you didn’t mind at all. Instead, you tightened your hold on his fingers slightly and acted like you didn’t see his surprised expression when he felt your fingers move.

“Where are you moving to?”

“A little down south. I’m staying here, just changing the neighbourhood.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Even though something inside you didn’t want him to move away and would have rather stopped him packing up, you volunteered to help him. For all the packs of milk, that is. While you were working alongside him you found out that his parents had a farm down in Daegu and that he was missing them dearly. The boys in the picture you had seen earlier were his closest friends and the reason he had moved to your neighbourhood was his project portraying life after the dark.

“You could have told me earlier, you know. I could have taken you with me to work, we have many people fit for your project.”

Taehyung only giggled and passed you the scissors with which you cut the paper that was wrapped around a pretty picture.

“You still can.”

His words filled you with a little hope. Hope of seeing him again, even though he was moving away.

When you laid in bed the day after Taehyung had officially moved out, you couldn’t help but feel sad. Somehow, the boy had become a bright star in your usual dark nights and with him gone, everything felt more…lifeless. As if his presence had given the building warmth. Coming home from work, you didn’t look forward stepping into the escalator anymore. You started buying your own packs of milk and every time you poured it over your cereal you had to think of Taehyung. You both had been so caught up in each other’s life stories that you had forgotten to ask for his number. Granted, you could seek him out at his job but you didn’t want to intrude. After all, Kim Taehyung had only been a neighbour. He didn’t have any obligations towards you and with a sigh you decided to forget about him. Many other boys had cute little moles on their skin.

As it was getting close to Christmas, the air was freezing cold as you hurried inside your apartment seeking shelter. You put the grocery bags on the kitchen counter before you lit the few candles in your living space. Somehow you had gotten into the Christmas spirit and you were really craving cookies. So you had looked up a few recipes and printed the ones you liked best, which were know pinned to your wall as instruction.

With soft music playing in the background you got to work. You were just hand-deep in cookie dough when your door rang.

With a frown you quickly whipped your hands before you approached the door and asking “Who is this?”

“It’s me. Taehyung.”, came the deep sound of his voice and you had to stop yourself from squealing. Taehyung was standing in front of your door?

You forced your huge grin off your face as you opened the door to be mad by his boxy smile.

“Did you smell the cookies?”, you teased, revelling in how good he looked.

“From miles away, yes. Can I come in? I have something to dip those cookies in!”

Your eyes caught the milk in his bag and you couldn’t help but blush.

“Is that enough bribe for you to let me in?”, he asked, voice wavering of unsureness but you grabbed his arm and pulled him into your apartment.

“You don’t need to bribe me.”

Subscribed: @cams59 @jiminandlemonade @airaplinept2 @ktheaven

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, LINA! You’ve been accepted for the role of TROILUS with an FC change to Henry Golding. Admin Rosey: I am absolutely HOWLING. So, when I was writing Troilus, I was having an amazing time -- he’s so nuanced and seemingly superficial, but there are so many detailed facets that contribute to his happy-go-lucky attitude. He’s so utterly disarming and charming that, from the interview alone, I couldn’t help but swoon over him. Your development for him promises so much, from the sought-after revelation of Celeste’s infidelity to turning him into a hollow and hungry creature. I’m absolutely over the moon to be putting my precious boy into your hands, Lina. By all means, ruin us all. Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

Out of Character

Alias | Lina. Age | 26 Preferred Pronouns | She/her Activity Level | 5 – Med school honestly wipes the floor with me most days, so I can’t promise daily activity but as I’ve said before, I promise consistency and communication. I’ll request a hiatus if needed, and I won’t disappear or drop-out without warning.   Timezone | Finally back in EST (UTC-5:00) Current/Past RP Accounts | —

In Character

Character | Tomas Sabello -> Could I request an FC switch to ether Henry Golding or Godfrey Gao? I love Bob Morley to pieces but I’ve used him as an FC for long enough that I really struggle to dissociate him from the role I played. I think Henry fits Tomas’ gentle disposition best, but Godfrey has more versatility in terms of acting roles/expression which seems more in line with the mood in Verona and what he may eventually become… I dunno! I’ll leave it to you guys to choose the preferred alternate FC in the event that I do get accepted. I’d be happy working with either one.

What drew you to this character? | I really liked how opposite he is to Viv, honestly. He’s so enamored with emotion, and despite the fact that he’s an actor by trade, he’s an open book when it comes to anything that inspires feeling within him. I think Tomas loves the idea of love to such an extreme that there’s no thought to guarding himself from it. No amount of pride could keep him from offering his heart up, not even the threat of rejection. He takes and he takes, but he also gives to the people around him, indiscriminately; even to the most insignificant of passersby who’ve touched his life or inspired his creativity in some brief, ephemeral way. While Viv absorbs and safeguards whatever light she finds, Tomas reflects it freely back into the universe, and I really like that dichotomy.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character?

*∆* - Ignorance isn’t bliss, it’s oblivion: I’ll keep this point short and sweet; I want Tomas to find out about Celeste’s infidelity and for his heart to get absolutely shattered in the process. It could be sooner, later or whenever, but I think we’re all holding our breaths for that to happen in the story, and I’d love the opportunity to portray that.

*∆* - To fight one’s nature is a losing battle: This is a plot contingent on the arc of his relationship with Celeste and details pertaining to their marriage (how long it takes for him to find out she’s cheating on him, what they do with that information, if they divorce, etc.). But essentially, I’d like to show Tomas’ struggle with his own fidelity because in his bio, he strikes me as the sort of character that doesn’t settle on one lover easily. And he loves Celeste with every inch of his being and right now that’s what’s keeping him faithful, but I think that even if her infidelity isn’t revealed, eventually Tomas will start to feel the strain. He’ll notice the little signs along the way that hint that she doesn’t quite love him the way he loves her. I think those would put cracks in the marriage even if Isabella wasn’t in the picture. I’d like to explore those, and how little micro-tensions crop up in chronic relationships when one partner feels like they’re pulling all the weight. I want to dig into that and cast the lens on a quietly troubled relationship, and I want to see how far it pushes Tomas in response. Does he grow colder?  Does he seek intimacy elsewhere? Does he fall into the same temptation and cheat on Celeste, whether physically or emotionally? Let’s find out!

*∆* - Any way the wind blows: I’ve always imagined Tomas to be the unsettled sort, in all senses of the word. His loves have always been transient and fleeting, his decisions (both in leaving Rome and marrying Celeste) seem rash and impulsive… I think capriciousness is a trait of his that extends to all facets of his life. So one headcanon I have for him is that now that he’s on sabbatical from acting, he’d want to try his hand at something new. Activities or careers that he gets excited by every few weeks and actively chases until something changes and then he drops the ball and moves on, certain he’ll find his luck elsewhere. I think it’d be interesting to see him get into all sorts of mix-ups while catering to this instinct, and maybe unintentionally making himself a nuisance to other characters in their line of work in the rp. Just this over-excited dude picking up positions and then dropping them as if life’s his own picnic… It’s definitely going to rub some people the wrong way and I’m here to see it happen!

*∆* - The hardest of hearts:  … I’m intrigued by Tomas’ deep resentment of Roman Montague. His bio implies that it’s his acting experience which primes him to look at Romeo as if he’s also an actor, playing a part he doesn’t deserve. But I think it goes deeper than that. I think canonically, even, Tomas’ character seems to have a lot in common with Romeo from Shakespeare’s original, or at least, the earliest version of Romeo that we see. Lovelorn and lackadaisical, an innate predisposition for goodness, and yet undoubtedly leaving lovers a little carelessly in his pursuit of love, etc. So the way I see it, beyond his judgment of Roman as being unfit to rule, I think Tomas doesn’t like him bc he sees in Roman all of the same flaws he recognizes subconsciously in himself. It’s always easier to see our flaws through a mirror. I’m interested in seeing how far Tomas would go to spite Roman in order to avoid having to confront himself. The fact that Celeste is still tied to the Montagues would also be a continuous dilemma for Tomas, who dislikes both mobs. Depending on what plots come up, I might even entertain the thought of getting Tomas tied up in Capulet business, with the singular goal of bringing down Roman Montague.

*∆* - … Destroys itself in the end: In his bio, it’s alluded that Tomas took from both his parents when it came to his nature. He loved as frequently and as persistently as his mother, but destroyed those in his wake as surely as his father; leaving his path littered with broken hearts. I want to see that side of Tomas again. Except this time, instead of it being an accident of youth and of too much ignorance, I want it to be intentional. I feel like heart-break would leave him hollow and hungry, and I want to experience that side of him. I think his capacity for hurt is almost equally potent to his capacity for love, and that’s what makes him such a compelling character in my eyes.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Through a well-developed plot, yes.

In Depth

These interview chairs are always so stiff that Tomas has to wonder whether it’s intentional. Maybe it’s to keep him from falling asleep, but he’d never do that. He likes giving interviews for the most part. Of course, it was easier in his early twenties; when he had very little in the ways of a filter but was blessed with the circumstances in life that permitted him to get away with it. Oh, and an adoring audience. That always helped of course. These days, as a married man in a new city, he has to be more careful with his tongue.

That doesn’t make him any more careful with his smiles, however. And right now he’s aiming one of his most brilliant at the interviewer who’s already started asking him questions. They’re three minutes in, but she hasn’t returned any of his good cheer so far, and that’s uncommon. He’s remembered all his pleasantries, he’s been considerate enough in opening doors and waiting to be seated - but still, nary a smile. He doesn’t mind too much, but it makes his job so much more enjoyable when they do. And as a result, Isabella Gagliano is both a damper and a challenge. But before Tomas can engage her into lowering her defenses, she’s presented him with the next in a series of fan-chosen questions.

“What is your favorite place in Verona?”

”The Two Gentlemen. Certainly the best bottle of pinot grigio that I’ve ever had.” Tomas tells her, lips pressing together as sweetly as the juice from those sticky wine grapes. “You wouldn’t be remiss either if you tried the risotto al tastasal. That’s a real recommendation, you know?” He stage-whispers with a grin, “Off-the record.” But if Isabella takes note, he can’t tell.

The truth is, it’s a lie. A white lie, he consoles himself, because sometimes, the truth is too heavy a price to pay. The truth is that his favourite place in all of Verona is the recently abandoned Multisala Rivoli. It’s a cliche, he knows, an actor finding his second-home inside of a rundown movie-theatre. But it isn’t for the movies that he goes, nor out of any misplaced vainglory. Rather, it’s the promise of nondescript privacy that draws him like a bee to to honey. There, he can meet his new friends beyond the prying eyes of the media. There, he has a clandestine spot to escape the humdrum of the city for a few hours, alone with his thoughts. But it’s not a truth he’s ready to share, and moreover, the Montagues will like this answer better. It’s a nod to their territory; a little more promotion for their best-boasted restaurant. He refuses to join them, he refuses to share in their cause, but maybe sliding in such harmless tips will convince them to lay off of Celeste’s case and stop pressuring her to pressure him to join. Truth and politics don’t mix. Every time a video begins recording, Tomas is well aware of that. But above all, an actor must always remember his part.

“What does your typical day look like?”

“What, like a twenty-four hour play-by-play?” He asks playfully. “No one’s that interesting,signorina, I promise. I remember I was asked a similar question in an interview two or three years ago. I think it was for Sorrisi e Canzoni? Or maybe GQ…. Either way, it was a much more exciting answer back then. Plays, parties, private jets… ” Tomas reminisces fondly, but not fond enough to want to trade it in for his present. “I hate to disappoint, but it’s not the same anymore. I’m a married man on sabbatical now, remember??” He says, directing the question towards the camera before letting his gaze find Isabella once more. His life is quieter now, but happier too. “Not that it’s boring by any stretch. I’d recommend marriage, actually. I know it’s done wonders for me! But if I start talking about her and all the ways she’s changed my routine everyone will be rolling their eyes and complaining about cavities before this interview’s over.” Tomas chuckles, thinking of the myriad of ways his daily life has become synonymous with Celeste. What time she wakes, what time she leaves, when she comes home or when he gets to persuade her out of the house on little dates… He has a life outside of Celeste to be sure, but it’s only around her that he’s really reminded of what he’s working towards. Like Eros and Psyche, he thinks. He loves, but she sets fire to his love and gives it true sustenance. A future, a family, a very happy ending - That’s all he wants these days.

“What has been your biggest mistake thus far?”

He laughs at that, taken aback by the girl’s directness. “Is that really what it says on your sheet??” He cocks a brow, leaning forward as if to sneak a peek. “Damn… That’s harsh.” Sometimes, his fans seem like tiny mosquitoes; hungry for every teeny-tiny drop of his blood as they submit questions as invasive as these. “I have to think about that one…” Tomas admits with a bemused shake of his head. “I try not to think of my experiences as mistakes. Even the ones that might feel like it initially. Everything happens for a reason, doesn’t it? Don’t you believe that?” He looks to his interviewer as though hoping to coax another answer out of her, but she doesn’t indulge him. He’s always preferred dialogue to monologue, despite his choice of career. It takes an exchange of ideas to see the world through new lenses, and he can’t do that while talking continuously about himself. But another pensive, stolen glance at Isabella tells him that she probably won’t care what his answer is, so long as he gives one. He could make it up right here on the spot - something like ‘I’ve started a third gang in Verona to spite the Mobs‘ or ‘I kicked a dog once’, and she probably wouldn’t bat an eyelash. He wonders why. He wonders why she’s so determinedly expressionless.

“Do you play Poker?” Tomas asks without warning. He hadn’t meant for that to come out of his mouth but somehow it does and it takes another laugh and a wave of his hand to dismiss it. “Sorry. But you could! It’s impressive actually - in a good way. To answer your question, I think I’ll have to keep this one to myself.” It’s apologetic but firm, because his biggest mistake is failing his parents. Of all the roles he’s played thus far, that of ‘son’ has always left him most wanting. He couldn’t fix their marriage. He couldn’t inspire their divorce… To this day, his adulterous mother and destructive, ill-tempered father remain tethered to each other. Two rusting anchors, weighing themselves down to the bottom of the sea-bed… Most days, Tomas tries hard not to think about it. But there are some moments, moments when he’s feeling low, that he wonders if he’s responsible for their unhappiness; wonders if he couldn’t have done more to help them find happiness, along the way. Today is one of the predetermined no-thinkdays though. The days he’s giving interviews always are. “Sorry about that… Got anything else on your nifty list?” He prompts her, hoping to move on to a happier topic.

“What has been the most difficult task asked of you?”

This question too, gives him pause. More than he’d like. There’s the shadow of fleeting suspicion as he steals a glance at Isabella, wondering if they’re posing these questions on purpose to throw him off. But what cause would a reporter have to do that? You’re being silly,he chides himself, mulling over the question. Again, he knows the real answer.

Commitment.

It isn’t easy to choose a single person in this life, Tomas thinks. To narrow his expansive romantic inclinations and promise them to one individual and one individual only. But it’s a choice he reminds himself of every morning when he wakes up, when he cracks an eye open only for his gaze to fall on the familiar comfort of Celeste’s blazing red hair, like a halo around her cherubic face. It’s a choice he must remember when he’s comparing paintings with Juliana and hears the clear-bell tone of her laughter echo in the museum. A choice he must remember when his fingers find the soft, unwritten skin beneath Santino’s wrist as they look for stars in a midnight sky. A choice he recalls even as he listens to Paola recount the tales he’s missed in her life; eyes dancing with ferocious passion and he thinks what if, what if…

… But it’s a struggle he dares not reveal. It would insult his beloved wife, it would make a mockery of the vows they took in front of that altar, all those months ago. Worse still, it would surely garner derision from the audience, especially from his most die-hard fans; some of who still count on the failure of his marriage in order to regain the bachelor fantasy they’d attached to their idol. But idols were effigies of gold and silver. He was not an idol, he was a man of flesh and blood and feeling. Do you understand?… You will never understand me like she has, he wants to rebuke them. But there’s an old fondness that he can’t help when it comes to those who loved him first. And so his countenance softens as he answers the reporter’s question. “The most difficult task for me, has been leaving behind all my loved ones in Rome. My friends, my family, my fans…” He presses his fingertips to his lips for a moment before waving them towards the camera, sending the kiss to those who’ll hope for it most, when the interview airs tomorrow night. “I send my love, and I’m humbled by your continued support.”

“What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?”

“It’s-… It’s insanity.“

Now the Montagues won’t like that. But he feels the answer so strongly, and with so much conviction that he thinks the glassy brightness in his eyes would betray him anyway. Some lies are too big to swallow, even for an actor. “Brutal and unnecessary - do they even remember what they’re fighting for?” He asks Isabella, though he thinks she’s probably no closer to answering that than the other Veronesi. “You know, the stories say that it’s been so many decades now that no one knows any more… Isn’t that silly? To fight over something that you can’t even remember?” But deep down, Tomas knows it’s not that simple. Because mobs don’t need an impetus; not when there’s so much profit to be made in criminality. All the rest is just stories, to play on the sympathies of a winsome public. He should know… He played on that same, guileless sympathy, night after night after night on a front-lit stage. But art is one thing, war is another. And Celeste is tied up in this war, much as he hates to think about it.

“Maybe I’ll go back to Rome one of these days,” Tomas announces abruptly, shifting upright in his chair. There’s an ardent gleam in his eyes because he likes thinking in maybes. They’re so much more satisfying than the limitations of what is or isn’t strictly possible. “I’d like to take my wife with me. She’s never been… Can you believe it?? Never been to Rome… We could start there, then maybe a tour of Europe. Maybe a second honeymoon. I’m sure she’d like that.” He doesn’t know if that’s true, he doesn’t know if he can ever return to Rome, but it has a romantic ring to it nonetheless. And when has Troilus ever been able to deny the sweet-nothing whispers of romance, even as a city tears itself apart around him?….

Never, he thinks… Not even then.

——————————————-

(Thank you for Reading!!)

[rdmfavcpls]

July 16 - Soulmates

July 16th - Soulmates

Category: Pokemon

Pairing: Lonashipping (Moon x Gladion)

Rating: T

Summary: Moon doesn’t see why everyone shuns her because of her soul pokemon tattoo, but Sun finally makes her hide it. Gladion doesn’t understand Moon’s expression when she sees Type:Null or why she’s so kind to him and Type: Null. Trouble arises and that’s where he gets his answers from.

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the franchise.

Author’s Note: 1. I am so sorry that I am so late with getting these uploaded. I tried to get everything done so I would be able to work on these as fast as I could. 2. This is just a little idea I have going on in my head about soul marks being tattoos of a specific animal (or Pokemon). Please enjoy!

~~Story Begins~~

Moon couldn’t understand as to why people looked at her like she was a freak after they saw her soul mark. It was of a four-legged Pokemon that had a Gyarados like the tail fin, the two front paws had talon-like claws, around its neck was an article of clothing that was cut evenly in-between spaces. A caged like helmet had long spikes, almost as if a double edge spear was pushed into the molding to cast from the sides and from the back. The helmet had open spaces for the eyes that we so small, they couldn’t be seen and the mouth. The top of the helmet seemed to be broken up with an ax shape thing sitting on top of its head, but a strap was around it.

She thought her soul mark was cute and adorable, everyone else thought it was ugly, that the pokemon must have been some kind of mistake.

“I will start treating you like my sister again if you start hiding that mark,” Sun said and pointed to Moon’s front left shoulder.

“Yours isn’t any better!” Moon yelled back as she fought back tears. Everyone was isolating her, refusing to socialize with her, and it's all because of her mark, even now her own twin brother was going to isolate her.

“Mine is ten times better than yours and mine is easier to hide,” Sun screamed back.

It was true. Sun’s soul. mark was on his ankle and it was of an insect that had tiny legs with a giant like a bubble surrounding the area where the head is supposed to be.

“But, I don’t want to hide it,” Moon said. “I like it.”

“Than you will be alone,” Sun said.

Moon tried to handle being alone, but it lasted for a week before Moon walked up to Sun wearing a T-shirt that covered her mark.

~~

Years later, both being teenagers now and their parents divorced, the twins moved to a new region with their mother that was as far away as possible from Kanto.

“Sun, please!” Moon said as they got ready for their first day of being in Alola. “It’s a tropical place. Why can’t I wear a tank top?”

“I am not going to have people recognize me as the one who has a sister with a mistake of a soul mark,” Sun said.

“Fine,” Moon said as she put on another shirt over her tank top.

“Moon, I’m doing this for you as well,” Sun said as he tried to get his sister to calm down. He could feel that she was fuming in anger and staying quiet about it.  “I want you to find happiness, but if you show that mark, you are just going to get bullied again.”

“Whatever.”

~~

“Aren’t you going to see the new trainers,” Lillie asked her older brother.

“I’ve already met Hau,” Gladion said back. “I have more important things to do than see if my soulmate arrives.” He walked away from his sister. “Not all of us are as lucky as you.”

“You never know,” Lillie said.

“I don’t deserve to have a soulmate,” Gladion said. “I don’t deserve to be happy.”

~~

“Who are you?” Sun asked Gladion on Route 5. “It is very rude to block someone’s way.”

“Oh, yes,” Moon said with a roll of her eyes. “Let’s lecture someone about blocking a path when you wouldn’t go buy coffee for an old man who was blocking the way.”

“That was then, this is now,” Sun said. “Did you want a coffee?”

“No,” Gladion said. “I’m here to put an end to you causing Team Skull trouble.” He held out his Pokeball and released the Pokemon inside.

“Are you kidding me?” Sun said as Type: Null stood at the ready. “Are you seriously kidding me?” Sun turned to look at Moon. “No. Absolutely not.”

Gladion blinked.

“Sun, look at it! It’s so cute!” Moon said.

That caught the Pokemon’s attention and it tilted its head.

“I’ll be right back,” Sun said as he dragged Moon away back into the city.

“Did she just call you cute?” Gladion asked Type: Null.

~~

Gladion and Type: Null was walking along the beach, not paying any attention to their surroundings. It was one of Gladion’s rare days when he walked barefoot on the beach. The beach was usually clear of anything dangerous since it was so close to a hotel, but they didn’t see the Pyukumuku that had washed up on the shore.

Type: Null let out a howl as Gladion hopped to the cliff to sit down so he could look at his injured foot.

“Arceus, this hurts,” Gladion hissed.

~~

Moon heard the howl and looked towards the direction of the sound. She looked back at her brother who was trying to get Manatine Surfing down.

“He won’t know if I leave,” Moon said as she went to the path and left the beach.

She passed by the hotel and saw Type: Null look around in a panic. Moon walked towards the pokemon slowly so she wouldn’t startle the Pokemon.

“Hey,” Moon said getting the Pokemon’s attention. “Where’s  Gladion?”

Type: Null ran to her and grabbed her shirt with his mouth. This trainer called him cute so she must be a good person.

“Okay, okay, I’ll follow you,” Moon said.

Type: Null took off in a run and Moon followed it. When they came upon Gladion, his foot was bleeding, but one of the Pyukumuku spikes was impaled into his foot.

“Really, Null?” Gladion said as she saw who his Pokemon brought to help him.

“Under the current circumstances, you should be lucky that it was me your pokemon brought,” Moon said as she sat on her knees in front of him. She dumped the contents of her back out onto the ground.

“Okay, that’s weird,” Gladion said. “We have only met once and you can pronounce currently, but I don’t know your name.” He looked at the contents that fell out of her bag. “Okay? Are you trying to start a berry farm?”

“No, though it would be wise,” Moon said as she grabbed one of her Pokeballs. “Rowlet, come on out.”

When Rowlet appeared, it used the top of Type: Null’s as a perch.

“Get your owl off of my pokemon,” Gladion said.

“Rowlet, can you go and get more Enigma Berries,” Moon said.

“Ro~,” Rowlet said before it flew away.

“You are worried about berries at a time like this,” Gladion said with a roll of his eyes.

“Let me see your foot,” Moon said. She didn’t even wait for his response before she grabbed it and had it on her lap. “What happened?”

“I stepped on a Pyukumuku,” Gladion said. He tried to get his foot free when he saw some sort of crystallized blue gel on her fingers.

Type: Null sensed its trainer’s unease and sniffed the gel which Moon allowed.

“Are they poisonous?” Moon said.  Type: Null made a sound and Moon looked at it. “I’ll have to get more berries, but only then will I let you taste it.” She looked back at her patient. “This will numb your pain and skin.”

“No, Pyukumuku is water type only,” Gladion said. He didn’t like the look on her face that she made once he told her. “Why?”

“This spike has poison on it which is slowly seeping into your blood system,” Moon said. “If the Pyukumuku were poisonous than I could have waited for Rowlet to return, but I can’t now.”

“So, what do you plan on doing?” Gladion said.

As if on cue, one of her Pokeballs shook on its own before a Mareanie appeared in front of them.

Gladion’s eyes shifted over to the poison type Pokemon. He’s seen them before, but not as a captive Pokemon. His eyes shifted over to his wrist where a Mareanie tattoo was at before movement caught his eyes.

“Chill,” Moon said sensing Gladion about ready to freak out as Mareanie picked up the scissors off the ground that she always carries. “Sun would abandon me if I ever let my shoulders go uncovered in public.”

Gladion watched as Mareanie started to cut Moon’s shirt. “You trust your Mareanie a lot.”

“If you know anything about my brother is that he’s reckless,” Moon said. She touched the area around the spike. “How did that feel?”

“How does that feel?”

“Good,” Moon said as her Pokemon got done cutting the bottom half of her shirt off. Mareanie than cut that part in half again. “Are you squeamish with blood?”

“No, why?”

Moon pulled the spike out of his foot. Mareanie took the spike as Moon started to wrap his foot up. When it was tight enough, she tied the fabric up.

“Did you really just pull that out of my foot?” Gladion said as Type: Null sniffed his foot.

“Yes, Mareanie, can you go check on the Pyukumuku,” Moon said. “You are going to need to stay off of your foot for a day or two. The enigma berry juice will help heal it faster.”

“Moon!” Sun said.

“I usually would have you drink something that would make you asleep,” Moon said ignoring her brother. “I didn’t realize I was so low on supplies.”

She set his foot down and grabbed an empty Pokeball as her Meleanie let out a cry.

“Ro!” Rowlet said as he held onto three Enigma berries with Sun chasing after the owl. She caught the Pyukumuku before Rowlet sat on her head.

“Thank you, Rowlet,” Moon said taking the berries. She looked at her brother.  “I see you are alive. Good.”

“What are you doing here with him?” Sun asked as he pointed at Gladion.

“He’s injured. Now take this Pokemon to the Pokemon Center and get it healed,” Moon said tossing the Pokeball at Sun’s face. “I’ll put a good word in you for Lana.”

~~

The next time Gladion was alone with Moon was in Aether. Faba had trapped them in his former bedroom.

“As soon as I’m president, I’m firing him,” Gladion said. He turned around to face Moon who looked at him with a concerned expression. “We’ll get out of here, but we need to stay calm, not to panic and -”

“Claustopic? Understood. It’s fine,” Moon said.

“Not me, Null is. If we don’t get out here soon,  it will start attacking,” he said.

“How’s your foot,” Moon said changing the subject.

“My foot is fine, thanks by the way,” Gladion said as he turned back around to try and pick lock the door. “What you did was pretty amazing.”

Moon hid her blush behind her black hair even if she knew he wasn't looking at her. “No, not really. It’s nothing by the way.” She looked around the room. “So, we need to get out of here, right?”

“Yes,” Gladion nodded. Moon went to try the window and found out that it wouldn’t budge. “Don’t bother. Mom bolted the window shut.” He stood up and kicked the door. “Faba did something to the door as well. I can’t get it unlocked.”

Type: Null escaped its Pokeball. It hated it here and the Pokemon wanted to escape. He was in a small room with two people.

“Null, calm down,” Gladion said as Type: Null headbutted a wall. The helmet left an indent on the wall.

“That actually gives me an idea,” Moon said.

Type: Null faced Moon. “No,”  Gladion said, but it was too late.

Type: Null charged at her. Moon reacted a little bit too late in dodging. The ax part of its head cut into her left shoulder. The window didn’t break but Moon’s shoulder was bleeding.

“Gladion, move,” Moon said.

Moon stood in front of the door and dodged Null a lot better this time. When Null ran into the door and broke it open.

“Well, that works,” Moon said as she grabbed her shoulder. “Ow.”

Type: Null was trying to get control of its sense while Gladion focused on Moon.

“Idiot, why did you do that?” Gladion said. He tried to move Moon’s hand away from her wound, but it was already covered in blood.

“I didn’t think that Null would consider me an enemy,” Moon said. “I don’t have any supplies either. Sun commanded me to heal his Pokemon.”

“Why do you let Sun boss you around so much?” Gladion said. He grabbed Moon’s free hand and dragged her out of the room and past Null.

“Where are we going?” Moon said.

“To find a first aid kit, ”Gladion said. “Please answer me.”

“Sun is basically my only friend,” Moon said. “It is either that or be alone.” Type Null caught up to them and looked at Moon with a whine. “I’ll be fine, Null.”

Gladion lead Moon to the infirmary. “Sit on the bed.”

Moon did as she instructed and Null laid his head on her lap, whimpering. She petted Null.

“It’s okay, Null,” she said as she comforted the Pokemon. She looked at Gladion who had the first aid kit out. “I can’t really help you take my shirt off.”

“Your Pokemon can’t help you?” Gladion said.

“Pyukumuku is the only one who hasn’t fainted,” Moon said. “I do  have another shirt on  underneath.”

Gladion took a deep breath. “Okay.”

“Gladion, is there another Type: Null?” Moon said.

“There might be one more. Why?” Gladion said as he lifted her shirt up.

“You’ll find out,” Moon said.

When her shirt was off, Gladion started to clean and bandage her wound only to get distracted by the tattoo on her shoulder that barely escaped her wound.

“Type: Null is your soul mark,” Glaidon said.

Moon nodded. “Sun and everyone in Kanto shunned me until I hid it. I hated hiding it so when we met on Route 5 -”

“That’s why Sun took you away,” Gladion said. He focused on bandaging her shoulder. “Your brother is an idiot. Hau will still be your friend along with everyone in this region. So, was Meleanie your first Pokemon?”

“That is correct, why?”

“Meleanie is on my wrist.”

~~

When the drama ended, Moon was asleep in her bedroom at her mom’s house. She had lost more blood than they imagined and Gladion wouldn’t let no one else take her to a safe place for her to sleep. A Silvaniy and Type: Null were curled up on each side of her with her mom’s Kanto Meowth asleep on top of Moon’s stomach.

Gladion left her room with a smile before leaving the room and the house to talk to everyone that is waiting for him outside.

“Brother,” Lillie said. “Will Moon be okay?”

“Yes. She just had a lot of blood loss,” Gladion said. He patted her head. “So, I found my soulmate.”

“No way,” Hau said. “Someone has Type: Null as their soul pokemon.

“Moon, ”Gladion said. He turned towards Sun. “So, what do you have against Type: Null?”

“Nothing, why? Because I had her cover it up?” Sun said. “You don’t know how bad she got picked on. Professors from Johto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh didn’t know who or what it was.” Sun glared at Gladion. “Just because you two are soulmates does not give you permission to kiss her.”

“As in when she’s awake or asleep?” Gladion said.

“Both!” Sun said.

“Too late,” Gladion said with a shrug. “She was the one who kissed me first when I gave her the other Type: Null.”

Lana and Sun’s mom had to restrain Sun from charging at Gladion who smirked. He walked back inside Sun and Moon’s house. He ignored the screams of Sun as he walked into her room.

Silvanny looked up at Gladion.

“It’s time for us to go,” Gladion said as Silvanny was called back into its Pokeball.

Gladion leaned down and pressed a kiss to Moon’s forehead. “Now,  I  can say that I kissed you while you were asleep,” Gladion whispered with a smirk.

~~The  End~~

[leigh-kelly]

Same Old Lang Syne

Just a little AUish Christmas fic...

The snow blocks your windshield as you make your way to the grocery store. You’d been back in Lima for less than two hours before your mother sent you on an errand for her, and you’d grumbled the whole time she sat writing her list. You’ve traveled all over the world, but there’s nowhere you hate quite like you do Lima. The whole town fills with bad memories each time you drive through, and the idea of going to the grocery store where you might be recognized, where people might pretend they didn’t hate you in high school simply because they want to take an absurd selfie with you to post on their Instagram gets you every time. But she’s your mother, and you’re home for the first Christmas in eight years, so you couldn’t exactly say no to her.

The parking lot is crowded when you pull in, and you grumble some more as you park in the back row. There are six things on your list, but you can tell by the volume of cars that this is going to be an excursion, and you pull your coat tighter around yourself, hoping that your knit cap will serve to hide your face while you race through the store. The cold sends a shiver down your spine as you walk up to the door, but it’s the scent of the entryway that really gets you. It’s not a bad scent, per say, it just brings back those memories you’re trying to avoid, and you shudder, thinking too much about the things you’ve spent the last fifteen years trying to lock away.

You manage to gather most of things your mother asked for in a basket, and you make it to the frozen aisle for concentrated orange juice. You’re looking forward to the mimosas you’ll make in the morning, and you’re almost home free, when you spot a profile across the way. It’s one you’d know anywhere, and though you try to hide yourself, it’s too late. She sees you, and you wish you could disappear beneath the freezers. She’s not the kind of person you can make casual conversation with, she’s not the kind of person you think you can make any conversation with, but before you can drop your things and escape, you find yourself approaching her, touching her sleeve, as if you’re bridging a gap between decades.

“Santana? Is that really you?” She sing-songs, and you feel the ice that’s formed around your heart melting at the sound of her voice. You haven’t found yourself able to love since she left you, your life has been a series of one night stands with groupies, and now here she is, smiling like she never broke your heart.

“Hey, Brittany.” You smile, and you accept the hug she gives you, and when she spills her purse on the tile floor, you bend down to help her. Immediately, you notice the ring on her left finger, and you feel like you might vomit right there. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas!” She chirps. “How have you been?”

“Life is good, you know? Traveling a lot, music sales are still good…” You trail off, not knowing what to say to someone like her, someone who couldn’t handle the idea of you doing what you love. “You?”

“I’m good…still at NYU. I got tenure, so I’m not going anywhere…”

“Good, that’s good.” You force the conversation, torn between not wanting to talk to her, and wanting to hear every single thing that’s happened since the day she packed her bags and moved out of the apartment you’d shared in New York City. You walk her to the register, and you just…stand there, confused about where to go next.

“Hey, I know it’s Christmas Eve, but I’d really love to buy you a drink.” She startles you with the offer, and you fight with yourself, knowing it’s an absolutely terrible idea. “Unless you’re in a rush to get back with your…cranberry sauce.”

“Brittany, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Yeah, I mean…you’re right, it’s probably not. But…you know me, I’ve never been one for the best ideas.” She grins, and you continue to melt, melt, melt, until you’re sure you’re nothing but a puddle on the floor.

“I haven’t known you in fifteen years.”

“All the more reason you let me buy you a drink. For old time’s sake. You know, should old acquaintance be forgot, and all of that.”

“Shouldn’t you be getting home?” You try, though you feel yourself caving.

“Not really in a rush.” She shrugs. “I’m not gonna pressure you though, it’s your call.”

“Santana? Santana Lopez?” The cashier, some girl you vaguely recognize from some study hall in some year of high school giggles, totally unbecoming of someone nearing forty. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Leave her alone, Jenny.” Brittany rolls her eyes. “You think famous people want to be flagged in the grocery store like that? Just ring up her crap, and let her go.”

“Uh, thanks.” You nod in Brittany’s direction, and pay for your things quickly, debating whether you should make a run for the parking lot or not. “One drink?”

“One drink. I’d just like to hear about everything you’ve been up to.”

Because you’ve always been hopeless when it comes to Brittany, you follow her out to the parking lot. She suggests you put your things in your car and get into hers, and you do, figuring your mother will be fine until you get home in an hour or so. Her scent overwhelms you as you get inside, and you immediately regret your decision to do this. You remember the ring on her finger, you remember the fact that she broke your heart into so many pieces you could never pick them all up, you remember that you vowed never to do this again, but yet here you are, in her car, staring at her wedding ring.

You can’t seem to find a bar that’s open—fucking Lima—and she suggests going to the liquor store for a six pack. You’re powerless to argue, now that you’ve gotten into the car with her, and you simply nod, following her like a puppy as she buys the beer and brings it back to the car. She drives back to the grocery store, and she parks next to yours, giving you an out if you want one. She pops open two bottles of Blue Moon, and she hands you one. Her fingers graze yours, and you swallow hard. This is all a lot, and you suddenly wish you had something much stronger than a beer to dull the ache in your stomach.

“Toast?” She asks.

“To what?”

“To innocence? To now?”

“I guess so, since I’m not really sure what there is to toast to.”

“You’re happy, aren’t you?”

“I’m…as happy as I can be, I guess.” You tell her honestly. “Traveling sucks sometimes, but I love my fans, so, I keep it up as best as I can.”

“You always pop up in my iTunes. It’s…a weird experience for me. I hear your songs on the radio sometimes, and it takes me back, I guess, makes me feel some weird kind of regret that I’m not part of your life. I could have broken up with you in a better way.”

“Can we not do this, Britt?” You border on begging, not realty emotionally stable enough to have this kind of conversation. “It’s been fifteen years, you’re married.”

“In the process of getting a divorce, actually.” She corrects you, and you fight the urge to whip your head around. “We’re pretending right now…for my parents’ sake, and for Christmas. I filed for divorce six weeks ago.”

“I’m…sorry to hear that.”

“Are you really? I’m surprised you don’t wish the worst for me. I know you did, at least for a while.”

“How was I not supposed to?” You defend. “I came home from a tour, and you had all of your shit packed up in our apartment. I hated you for that. I felt like you had absolutely no joy in my dream coming true.”

“You were never there, Santana. I was having a relationship with your voicemail. How was that fair to me?”

“I don’t really want to fight about this a decade and a half later.” You roll your eyes. “Don’t you think we hashed it out enough back then?”

“I don’t know…I really don’t. My relationship with you has colored every other experience I’ve ever had. I was with you, one way or another, since I was fifteen.”

“Including with your husband?” You can’t help but ask, though you don’t really want to know the answer.

“Wife.” She corrects you, narrowing her eyes.

“You married a woman?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. I’m bisexual, Santana, there was just enough chance I’d marry a woman than that I’d marry a man.”

“I—I’m.” You don’t finish your sentence, you don’t want to tell her that you’d always expected that the only woman she’d marry would be you. You can’t let her into that vulnerability. It’s mortifying, really.

“She was good to me. She’s an architect, and it kept things really secure for me, when my job was unstable, and I wasn’t sure if I’d get tenure. I...I loved her then, I really truly did, but…”

“But what?” You ask, not really wanting to hear the answer.

“She wasn’t you. She was never you. No one ever could be.”

“It’s been fifteen years, Brittany.”

“I know, and if you tell me I wasn’t the great love of your life, I’d believe you. But that doesn’t mean you weren’t the great love of mine.”

“Jesus.” You chug the rest of your beer, and you open another one, not sure how you can even begin to handle this conversation. Of course she was the great love of your life, that’s the reason you hadn’t ever been in a relationship with anyone else, it’s the reason you’re spending yet another Christmas alone, just you and your mother. It’s the reason nothing has made sense since she walked out and left you scrambling to figure out who you were. But you don’t know how to say all of that. You don’t know if you want to. “You left me.”

“I know. Everything was too much to handle. We were twenty-five, and I missed you every single day.”

“Do you think I didn’t miss you when I was on tour? That I didn’t go to bed in some strange city every night wishing you were next to me? It was hard for me too, Brittany, but I didn’t want to give up on us.”

“It’s easy for you to say though when you weren’t the one left behind. It hurt thinking that maybe you’d get bored of me, while you were off meeting all these interesting people, and I was just…teaching math. I was afraid.”

“So why didn’t you ever tell me that?”

“Because I didn’t think you were going through what I was, and I felt like an idiot.”

“Imagine how I felt when I came back from LA and half of our apartment was packed up. I didn’t see it coming, not for one single second. I never stopped loving you, in all the time we were separated with my tour, and when I came back, it felt like you stopped loving me.”

“I never stopped loving you.” She reaches out and touches your hand, and you jolt, not sure if she means just while you were gone, or ever. “I didn’t leave you because I wasn’t in love with you, I left you because I was.”

“I thought we were having a drink to catch up on everything we missed out on in fifteen years, not to rehash our breakup.” You desperately try to change the subject, though you know it’s futile.

“Didn’t our breakup create the last fifteen years of our lives? Had you asked me then where I’d be, I’d have said that we’d be married, with two or three kids, and we’d be happy.”

“I would have thought that too…” You confess. “Looking at you, your eyes look the same as I remember them, and I’m just wondering now what could have been.”

“We could have been great. We were great. Do you know how many times I’ve regretted the day I left?”

“Probably not as many as I’ve regretted it, to be honest.”

“I don’t know, Santana. Asha tried, she really did, but she could just…never be you, and it’s been hard. I’ve done marriage counseling, we talked about having a baby, but there was just nothing either of us could do to erase my regret over you.”

“Does she know about me?” You chance to ask, and she nods slowly.

“How could she not? The ghost of you…of us has just impacted everything.”

“If it means anything, it’s impacted everything I’ve done too.”

You sit in silence for a long while, finishing your second beer. The air feels heavy around you, her breath feels heavy, and you wonder if you shouldn’t get out of the car. You wonder if you shouldn’t go home and pretend this never happened. But you can’t. You’re here, and she’s told you that your long-gone relationship has affected her marriage to the point that she’s getting divorced. That’s not nothing, and you find yourself hoping, wanting, for something that’s in the past. This isn’t a Hallmark movie where you see the girl you used to love, and suddenly the years disappear and things are the way they once were. This is real life, a life that hasn’t been kind to you in terms of love, and you can’t dare to hope. Christmas miracles aren’t real. They can’t be, because magic isn’t.

“Remember the first Christmas we came back from New York?” She asks suddenly.

“The Christmas I proposed.” You swallow hard at the memory.

“You didn’t really mean it though.”

“I got caught up in Christmas, and we were only nineteen. But…I thought it was practice for the real thing. I had a ring for you, you know, a few years later.”

“You did?” Her eyes widen, and you nod slowly.

“I always planned to marry you. I thought I’d make it, and we’d settle down. I didn’t plan to travel like this forever. Now I do, because I’m…lonely, I guess.”

“You never found anyone?”

“I never wanted to. You know how I am…I don’t let people in. After you, it got worse. I was heartbroken and sick for months. You were my great love, there was never going to be anyone else.”

“It’s weird we ran into each other, isn’t it? After all this time…”

“I’ve only been home for one Christmas since. This whole place is too painful for me. New York was where we lived, but this is where we fell in love, so pretty much every place is a reminder of being sixteen and pretending I wasn’t head over heels for you.”

“I just…can’t even believe with everything that’s gone on in your life, you still have these…feelings about me.”

“You’re not just someone in my past, you’re the person who was supposed to be my future. God, it’s killing me to look at your blue eyes right now, and know they’ve spent the last decade and a half looking at someone else. I’m just…this is really messing me up, okay?”

“You think it’s not messing me up, Santana?” She shakes her head, clearly frustrated with herself. “A month and a half after I filed for divorce, and now I run into you, after all this time…It’s like, some kind of sign or something.”

“I don’t believe in signs.” You tell her. “We’re just two old lovers who met in a grocery store. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“What if I want it to?”

You freeze. These are words you’ve been wishing to hear for years, and here she is saying them. Do they mean what you think they mean? Does she want to give it a second go, after all this time? Do you really want to put your heart on the line like that? She hurt you once, what’s to stop her from doing it again? How can you risk that? You barely survived the first breakup, how could you survive another? You study her face, and you feel like even in all the years you’ve missed, you haven’t lost a moment with her. She’s Brittany. Your first love. Your forever love. And because you don’t know what else to do, you nod slowly.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” She leans in, pressing her hand to your cheek and her lips brush yours. It feels like the last kiss you’ve replayed in your mind a million times. It feels like a new first kiss, it feels like…everything.

“Wow.” It escapes your lips, and you flush.

“Wow.” She repeats. “I missed that.”

“What are we doing?”

“I think we’re kissing.”

“No, I mean…in life. Right now. You’re not even divorced.”

“I will be. I just have to get through Christmas, then I’m telling my parents. I’m not changing my mind about that.”

“But what about us? We’ve seen each other for an hour in fifteen years.”

“That doesn’t make me love you any less. Do you still love me, Santana?”

“I never stopped.” You tell her earnestly. “I probably never will. But…what about everything else?”

“You’re living in New York, aren’t you?”

“Yeah…”

“What if we saw each other again? When things settle down?”

“I’d really like that.” You breathe. All of the hope flares up in your chest, and you find yourself somehow believing in Hallmark movies and Christmas magic, and the stupid snow keeps coating the windshield of her car, isolating you inside. “I really should go home…”

“I know. So should I. It’s late, and everyone’s waiting.”

“But we’ll see each other again?”

“In New York.” She nods, telling you everything you need to hear with those words. Telling you it’s not over, that it’s never been over. “My number is still the same.”

“Then I still remember it by heart.”

“So, you’ll call me?” She asks, leaning in to kiss you again.

“How could I not?” You kiss her more deeply this time, before you reach for the car door, half wishing you could cancel everything else and just stay right here, in her car, forever. “Merry Christmas, Brittany.”

“Merry Christmas, Santana.”

[blogwritetheworld]

The Write Place: ‘Tis the Season - My December

by Lisa Hiton

Looking for the right advice on pursuing the writer’s life? You’ve come to the write place!

My family is Jewish. We don’t celebrate Christmas. And yet, isn’t going to a movie and eating Chinese food while the rest of the world closes down for a day a kind of ritual—its own kind of made-up holiday? I’m sure that these details seem usual as well. But, dear writers, a lot more is there than meets the eye. Your family’s traditions, rituals, and habits—no matter how ordinary they seem—can be made extraordinary by turning them into words.

Family Hanukkah with multiple Hannukiahs! These are different than menorahs as they hold nine candles instead of seven.

PANNING FOR GOLD

An easy way to describe your holiday season to someone else (and kickstart your writing process) is to make a list of traditions and rituals that you think of when this time of year comes around. Mine looks something like this:

Tuesday before Thanksgiving

take a train into the city

to go to the Art Institute with my mom

followed by shopping for new art supplies

and a nice dinner

and train ride home

Thanksgiving Eve and Day

prepare spinach balls

set table

cook cook cook

eat eat eat

play games with cousins

Christmas Eve and Christmas Day

hang Hanukkah stockings

attend Cathy Nathan’s x-mas party

cook a big breakfast including eggs, fresh squeezed OJ, and bacon

open stockings

hang out

go to a movie at the theatre

cook a nice dinner (Chinese food takes too long in my hometown since we live in a pretty Jewish part of Chicagoland)

watch holiday movies with mom and brother, especially The Family Stone

Winters in Chicago can be brutal; there’s no better antidote than playing in the snow! Here I am enjoying the snow with my first friend, Rebel.

Are you bored yet? This isn’t even counting Hanukkah since it doesn’t always fall near Christmas! All of these things may seem pretty usual. That might be true if you make your list of traditions as well. You might decorate a tree, hang twinkle lights, go caroling, go to the same person’s house every year to celebrate, leave out cookies for Santa, etc. Most neighborhoods and cultures have their usual lists of traditions. Part of your goal as a writer is to pan for gold among them.

Looking at this list, I began to ask myself, Why is it that my mom, brother, and I do these same things every single year? Some of it seems like the larger culture, but some of it was made by us. As I think about why, it’s clear that a lot of these rituals are in some way related to my parent’s divorce. Through that lens, I might start panning for my own gold—to sift through this litany to find something that might be worth more than meets the eye. Each of these seemingly usual bullet points, in fact, triggers different memories for me. In that field of memories, where might I find a scene that begins a longer story? How might I organize these scenes and memories into something cohesive for myself and my readers? I’ll begin with my freshman year.

My freshman year of high school marked the first year of spending winter break with divorced parents. While breakfast time was never particularly special in my house, Christmas day posed a dilemma: what would my mom, brother, and I do in this new situation, just the three of us? Especially since nearly everything is closed on Christmas day and people are with their families, filling the time posed some anxiety for my mother and me, especially with my young, shy brother.

To be sure, I already had thrown one tantrum about adjusting to these new circumstances. It was the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. In elementary school and middle school, I normally had that day off as part of my holiday break. In high school though, this was not the case. It was second period when I received a pink slip during chorus to report to my advisor’s office. As a self-proclaimed academic, I was not used to be in trouble. With a room full of eyes on me as I left the choir room, my angst only increased.

It seemed my senior leaders had gone to my advisor worried about my general sadness. In my humiliation that anyone had noticed such negative energy, I proceeded to have the first of many tearful conversations with my advisor about adjusting: to high school, to a new home situation, and more. My mom came and picked me up from school so we could play hooky and keep our one ritual of going to the Art Institute of Chicago. I knew it was a temporary solution to a larger problem, and that this was just one of many adjustments I’d have to make. Yet, the gesture helped me persevere despite my pain.

That choir room would continue to serve as a literary backdrop for growth and tough love throughout high school. It was also a common community I kept throughout high school while everything else changed. For our annual fundraiser, we sold grapefruits and oranges by the box. When the trucks pulled up to the high school, we passed the boxes one by one down the line, just like the who’s down in Whoville, singing all the while in the face of another frigid Chicagoland winter.

While I’m more of a night owl than a morning person, and certainly not a big breakfast eater, this introduction to ripe grapefruits became my exception. Cut in half with a little bit of sugar was all I needed to jump-start my day with a jolt of Vitamin C. And so when the week of Christmas came around, my mom picked up a citrus juicer. The morning of Christmas. My brother and I sat on the island in our kitchen cutting oranges in half. We took turns pressing oranges onto the machine as it whirred and whirred. In an absolute mess of pulp, we finally squeezed enough halves for three cups of juice, just as our bacon was coming out of the oven. It was a new tradition, mundane as it may seem now, and a way of lightening the day and passing the time on a holiday that is not ours.

Christmas may not be our holiday, but it would be a boring day without our own tradition of “Hanukkah stockings”. My brother, Merrick, and I still give each other socks and chapstick as a ritual!

AMONG THESE ROCKS

Among the rocks in the river, there are some that are worth spending time with as a writer, and others that probably don’t add much to the larger story. The larger story in a personal essay is not always about a narrative arc. In the passage I just wrote about making orange juice, the larger story is about recasting the family unit as three instead of four, connecting to my younger brother, and trying to lift my spirit despite how hard it was to start high school with divorce at the forefront of my thinking and feeling. While all of that may not have come out precisely, writing this little passage is a signal that with time and effort, I could write that longer essay. Now as a writer, it will be up to me to describe these anecdotes as scenes, make characters out of my self and my family members, and reflect on the meaning. If this can all be done well—the showing and the telling—then it’s likely the reader will feel a similar sense of nostalgia.

The house where I grew up is on a hill whose swale leads to the north fork of the Chicago River. My fondest memories of winter are sledding down that hill and walking on the frozen river. Here I am teaching a new friend, Miriam, about these prairie-land games.

That is, perhaps, the most important way to approach material. If something is significant, memorable, or worthy of reflection to your own sense of self or personal narrative, there is probably a way to translate that to your reader in writing. Take for example Vani Dadoo’s My December piece from last year, “December in Delhi”, about waiting for the train:

Winter is not good for a polluted city like mine. December, being the main month of winter in India, is always the coldest.

All things in nature huddle together in winter, trying to find, or steal, some warmth from the other.

The clouds creep towards the ground. The fog and the smoke meet and embrace, and together try to steal the little sunlight before it touches the earth. The smog becomes denser, trying to wrap the earth in a heavier, grayish blanket, like the people sleeping in woolen quilts in their homes.  Evening darkness approaches faster than before, as if the smog did succeed in robbing the sunlight. Even after twilight, the smog refuses to diffuse. The air becomes thicker, but the world puts on an old, dull, sweater and wraps a muffler around its neck and walks on.

Some evenings, it coughs and some mornings, it can see its breath. But most days, it can’t peer into the distance.

This year, my father decided to travel to escape the harsh winters. “Migration over hibernation,” he called it, and, “better to get the sun somewhere than get closer to that old, rusty heater at home,” is what he said. We decide to journey to the western coast around Mumbai by train. Indian Railways was a part of family, as all cross-country trips; from Himalayan foothills to the Rajasthani deserts, were made by train.

As we take a cab to the New Delhi railway station, the moon is rising. The moon is a blurred piece of white in the black sky, clouds and smog. The street lights, though, filter through this, illuminating every speck of dust. The cars zoom past on the highway.

One can rarely see stars in my city.

Dadoo wavers between a present-tense meditation on December, and a swell of memory related to waiting for a train in Delhi. While these may be ordinary in another context—waiting for a late train or reflecting on the season—Dadoo weaves these two threads together, a double helix, to arrive at grand statements of the human condition: that like waiting for a train, we wait for a season’s end so that we may be carried into a new one.

Dadoo also brings us Delhi in her sensory details. From the opening passage about all things in nature “huddling together”, Dadoo mirrors her descriptions to match the crowded and polluted city around her. Just as Dadoo was able to give the details of December in Delhi while waiting for a train, you can give your own details as you think about your family—their traditions and rituals, the personalities of each member, and the things that make you nostalgic.

A reader gets a clear sense of a train station in Mumbai from this piece. If you’re familiar with such a place, you will get swept up in a shared nostalgia. If you’re unfamiliar with this land, you may find these descriptions to be exotic. In both cases, the very things that are both familiar and new bring the reader into a shared sense of the human condition with the writer herself. That shared humanness is the the entire point of sharing stories! And all of that came from writing about waiting for the train!

So, dear writers, as you think of Decembers past and enjoy your current December, what memories and rituals are for keeps? What gold will you find in waiting for the train, cooking with your grandmother, visiting a museum, playing in the snow? Show us your favorite places, traditions, and people at this time of year by tagging your stories and images with #MyDecember on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram.

About Lisa

Lisa Hiton is an editorial associate at Write the World. She writes two series on our blog: The Write Place where she comments on life as a writer, and Reading like a Writer where she recommends books about writing in different genres. She’s also the interviews editor of Cosmonauts Avenue and the poetry editor of the Adroit Journal.