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keelywolfe · 4 years

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FIC: Welcome to Backwater ch.11 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Stretch finally has Edge's address, but as always seems to happen in this town, answering one question only makes two more spring up to take its place.

Read ‘Unconventional Wisdom’ on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

The dog spent all morning napping behind the counter, not rising for broom bristles nudging him nor Stretch stepping over him awkwardly so he could grab a few boxes from the top shelf to fill up the front racks. He did snore loud enough to be heard over the radio, but eh, so did Red so Stretch was used to it.

It wasn’t until the jangling cowbell over the door heralded the arrival of a group of kids that the pup gave up on his snoring and wandering out to inspect the new arrivals, tail already happily wagging. Predictably, the kiddos were enamored of their newest employee, although guard dog might be overstating things a bit. Okay, maybe a lot; it looked like Red hadn’t been able to get back to sleep last night because the once-filthy dog with a mess of tangled fur was now freshly washed and brushed, and he smelled a lot like the shower gel from Red’s bathroom. Cleaned up, he was a handsome dog, looking as fluffy as an enormous toasted marshmallow. Not exactly threatening, fluffykins here was probably gonna spend most of his shift on moral support duty.

The little girl who was currently the main recipient of the dog’s enthusiastic face licking giggled and asked, “What’s his name?”

“uh.” That gave Stretch a pause. He shrugged. “doesn’t have a name yet, i’ll have to ask red what he thinks.”

“Should name him Rover,” one boy put in helpfully.

Another boy chimed in, “Or Bingo!”

“Cheeseburger!” A little gal firmly declared as though no other name would do and Stretch couldn’t help laughing.

“is that a name suggestion or a lunch request?” he teased. All the kids giggled, including the one who’d suggested the name and Stretch gave one of her pigtails a gentle tug. “tell you what, here.” He pulled out a pad of paper from under the counter, flipped past the pages filled with inventory lists and cribbage scores to a blank one and wrote carefully at the top, ‘Name Our Dog’. He set it in one corner of the counter triumphantly, “there! now anyone can suggest a name and red can choose the best one.”

All the kids seemed in agreement that this was the best course of action, each taking a turn to scribble their suggestion on the sheet. He wouldn’t be at all surprised if ‘Cheeseburger’ was at the top of Red’s picks.

The kids eventually abandoned the dog and started a round of intense negotiations over what penny treats to buy today. Stretch left them to it, settling to sit on the stool to wait for them to bring up their selections to the register. His mind wandered idly back to newest side quest: getting to 637 Wood’s End Drive.

He’d already tried to look the address up on his phone’s GPS and wasn’t too surprised to see that it didn’t come up, naw, that would be too easy. So, first was figuring out how to get there and second would be figuring out how to get there. Not like he had a car and somehow, he doubted that Backwater had a thriving Uber economy. Maybe he could hitch a lift with someone? People were always coming into town in those big ol’ pickup trucks and the folks around here were pretty friendly, plus Edge seemed to be pretty well known. They all probably knew exactly where Edge lived and stopped by for pie and tea all the time. Surely someone would be delighted to help out, particularly if they were one of the lookie-loos from Mama’s who wanted to see Stretch and Edge on another man date, thank-you-but-no-thank-you.

That would probably be the easiest way to go about it, but Stretch found he was strangely reluctant to take that route. It felt a little like cheating, considering the roundabout way Edge went about handed out his address.

Anyway, if he’d wanted to go down that path, he could’ve simply asked Red days ago, but that right there was an entirely different can of worms that he didn’t want to share with any of the early birds. Red never forbade him from hanging out with Edge, but he’d been pretty clear time and again that he wasn’t too keen on it, either. Might be best if he kept any mentions of Edge to a minimum unless Red brought him up first.

He’d just figure it out himself, thanks, and he wasn’t any puzzle master, not like his bro was, but he had a little pride buried around here somewhere. Edge set him a challenge, damn it, and he was gonna see it through.

His absent gaze strayed down to the pile of bicycles outside the store, kid-sized, sure, but hey, wait a second—

“hey, guys,” Stretch said slowly, and the debate on whether to get two packs of everlasting gobstoppers or three paused as a half-dozen heads perked up like prairie dogs from a sugary plain. “if i wanted to buy a bicycle around here, where would i go?”

Heads ducked down again in a hastily whispered conversation, then the spokeskid popped up again and said, decisively, “Try over at the thrift shop. Miss Maggie always has old bikes for sale.”

“thanks.” He should’ve known. The only other option right in town was the tractor supply shop and while driving up on a John Deere would make a hell of an impression, it was probably well out of his price range. The kids crowded over with their handfuls of spoils and Stretch dutifully rang them up and if he tossed in a dime of his own to cover them, eh, wasn’t like they’d ever know. He handed over a paper sack of treats to a chorus of thank yous and the divvying began before the kiddos even got out of the shop.

“Oh, Edgar Allen said to tell you hi!” One little girl called back to him. She was gone out of the door before he could even think of a reply, all of them clamoring onto their bikes, their faces chipmunk-cheeked with their spoils.

Edgar Allen, shit, yeah, that was right. He’d pretty much been the first stop on this questline and Stretch’d been meaning to do something for him. He’d already rethought the magazine idea; what if it turned out that scarecrows couldn’t read, kinda insensitive there. He’d have to think of something, though, owing someone didn’t sit well with him even if that person didn’t qualify for traditionally alive.

In the meantime, the dog, bereft of childish companionship, wandered back behind the counter and flopped down with a huff, sighing deeply.

“yeah, go on and take a break,” Stretch told him, “you were working pretty hard there.” He stretched out a leg to pet the dog carefully with his foot and wasn’t too surprised that it didn’t care one bit about his shoe, only pliantly rolled over to give him better access to the belly region.

Stretch obediently kept petting, hell, he obeyed better than the dog. But his thoughts were still on the upcoming journey to 637 Wood’s End Drive.

~~*~~

Red relieved him in the shop a little later than normal, looking a lot like he’d just hauled ass out of bed. His shirt was the same one as earlier, only with a fresh crop of wrinkles and his eye lights were still bleary with exhaustion.

Almost, Stretch offered to stay later and let Red get a little more sleep, considering it was his fault Red got woken up in the middle of night. But the baleful glare Red sent his way was an unspoken warning that such an offer probably wasn’t gonna go over well. He kept his jaw shut tight and took the paper sandwich bag Red handed over before heading out the door. Time to get this side quest rolling, literally, he hoped.

The few times he’d met Magdalen May he’d figured right from the get-go that she, like Red, was a partaker of the Sheriff’s son’s prize cannabis crop. Not only because of her dreamy demeanor but also whenever she came into the store, she was surrounded by an almost visible cloud of pot stank so strong that Stretch got a contact buzz while she was shopping through the meagre selection of yarn that Red kept. By the time she left, Stretch would have a craving for Cheetos so strong he’d be ready to start gnawing on his fingerbones for a cronch.

Stepping into the thrift shop was a little like hot boxing in a hoarder’s closet but Stretch soldiered on, squinting as his vision adjusted from the bright light of day to a dimness barely above attic-levels. He went past shelves of gewgaws and boxes of dusty records, old clothes hanging from racks that looked like they’d been commandeered from a lot of remaindered furniture. There were tables piled high with ancient radios, cameras, electronics that Stretch didn’t know the name of and surely didn’t work, existing only to be parted out by an amateur scientist or an electrician in search of cheap parts. Antique glass was set high on the shelves, catching dusty light and sending a kaleidoscope of color to scatter over the room, freckling it in greens, reds, and yellows.

The entire store radiated a glorious sort of chaos and if it weren’t for the fact that he already felt a little woozy, he would’ve stayed for a while and poked through some of the wares. Maybe even find a new book for Red buried in the nearby piles, see if he’d be willing branch out into cowboy romance for a change.

He heading to the back of the shop where Miss Maggie was sitting in a rocking chair surrounded by boxes and shelves, knitting with flashing speed despite the foggy miasma hanging in the air. Her long white hair was smoothly braided and pinned up on top of her head, her weathered skin tanned dark and leathery. The weave of bright yellow yarn trailing from her needles was spread across her lap in an incongruous contrast to her dark, billowing skirt and the light sweater she wore against the chill of the air conditioning.

“Hello, Papyrus,” she greeted him with the sort of rough, croaky voice made over the years by a thousand packs of Marlboros. She didn’t look up, her attention completely focused on her knit and purl.

That gave him one hell of a pause. “how did you—” Stretch stopped. Great, he was in the soothsayer chapter and hadn’t even had time to prep. Yeah, okay, he didn’t really have any room in his life for another side quest, maybe let this one go. He didn’t actually want to know where she got her intel, not really, especially not with his head already spinning a little. He stuck his hands in his pockets to hide the way they wanted to curl into fists, rocking back and forth on his heels. “heya. i haven’t gone by papyrus in years, it’s stretch, thanks.”

“A wise choice,” Miss Maggie said. She sounded…different, somehow. He’d talked to her a few times now and strangely, today he couldn’t seem to place her accent. It wasn’t like the other townsfolk, all of them had a certain warm, down-homey charm, and usually so did she. Her words today were crisp, sharp-edged, nothing like the dreamy peace he was familiar with when she came into the store for coffee creamer and vanilla wafers. She glanced up at him over the wire rims of her glasses, her gaze as sharp as her tongue. “Names have power. A wise man keeps his true name to himself.”

“um. sure,” Stretch couldn’t stop himself from giving the door a longing glance. This was starting to seem like a bad idea, Miss Maggie seemed to be having a personality crisis, maybe he should come back after lunch. “that’s some very handy wisdom, but i’m here about a bike?”

She ignored that. “You have issues with names,” Miss Maggie told him. She kept knitting, needles flashing furiously in a rhythmic clickity-clack as steady as a metronome. “don’t you.”

“huh?” Stretch didn’t exactly have any flesh to get goosebumps with, but he felt a chill nonetheless, prickling maddeningly over his bones. His head was whirling, everything around him seemed to blur except the old woman in front of him. His tongue felt strangely thick as he whispered a question he didn’t want to ask, “i don’t…what do you mean?”

“Mmm, yes,” Miss Maggie sighed out, “so many names you’ve had and rejected. Had and left behind when you ran away, far, far away.”

“stop,” Stretch said weakly. His soul was starting to pulse with aching intensity behind his breastbone. The room filled with an electric heaviness like a coming storm, the rich green smell filling the room suddenly nauseating. “please, don’t.”

“Brother, lover, yes, but never father, not even once.”

“shut up,” Stretch said thickly. Or tried to, the words seemed to clot and stick at the back of his throat, refusing to travel over his useless tongue.

“And now you’re taking on new names,” she raised her head, and here in the dim, her eyes seemed like dark pools of pure blackness that reflected nothing of the flickering overhead lights. Her grin seemed unpleasant and wide, showing pale pink gums in an endless maw. “Is it friend you seek or something else, I wonder?”

As she turned towards him, her sleeve caught on the sugar bowl set on the table next to her, sending it tumbling to the floor. The burst of sound as it shattered pushed through his dazed distance like the snap of dry twig broken over a knee. Stretch jerked, blinking hard, and all the nebulous emotion in him surged forward, gathering and coalescing into real anger. He was starting to get sick of this shit, if everyone in town wanted to act like this place was Sleepy Hollow’s second-cousin, that was fine by him. He was happy to play along, but not if they were gonna keep sticking their shovels into his past to see what other skeletons they could dig up.

“look, fuck you,” Stretch snapped out. He turned back to the door, tossing over his shoulder. “never mind, i’ll figure out something else!”

“Wait!” And he didn’t want to wait, he wanted to push on through the door, but his stubborn feet suddenly refused to move. Miss Maggie clumsily thrust aside her knitting, hardly noticing her teacup wobbling, spilling tea and leaves out into her saucer in a wild splash. That funky weird woman vibe abruptly eased and so did some of the stench in the air, flavored instead with lavender tea. She waddled over to him, her long skirt dragging on the floor. Even bent over with age, she was impressively tall, hardly shorter than Stretch was, and he was a mini-skyscraper to most Humans. She looked up at him, her eyes a watery, pale blue, surrounded by a sea of wrinkles, how could he ever have imagined they were anything else?

Miss Maggie reached up to touch his cheekbone with fingers nearly as thin as his own.

“Oh, sweet child,” she said with mournful gentleness, and her voice was the smoky-sweet, grandmotherly one he recalled. “S’all right. Ain’t nothing wrong with setting aside a name you’ve outgrown, nor in taking on a new one.”

All his bright, burning anger collapsed inwardly, a card house with the center support removed, and hurt welled in him instead. He was crying, he realized distantly, tears stinging in his sockets, running down his cheekbones to gather on wetly his chin. He didn’t realize he was going to speak until he did, choking out, “it feels wrong.”

“How you feel and how things are don’t always match,” she agreed. She held out her arms, her gnarled hands open to him and Stretch leaned into them, burying his face in the soft, knitted shawl draped over her shoulder. She smelled like weed and lavender, a strange, exotic mixture. “i’ll get you all wet,” Stretch mumbled, muffled into the cloth.

She petted his skull gently, “It’s all right, child. I’ll dry.”

He held on tightly for a long time and when she finally drew back, she lightly touched his forehead with the tips of two dry fingers.

“You can get to his home through the forest,” she said, and it seemed to Stretch he could almost see it, clear as a picture someplace behind his sight. “Follow the exchange down about a mile, you’ll see a turnoff on the left. Don’t you stray from the path, you hear me, sonny?” Those pale, rheumy eyes searched his face for understanding. “Easy to get lost out there.”

“i won’t.”

“Good.” She let him go and shuffled back to her chair to picked up her knitting again. “Now, you mentioned something about a bike.”

For a moment, Stretch stood there, practically wobbling on his feet. He felt like he’d woken up from an unexpected nap, still floating in between the sleeping and waking worlds. Then he blinked, snapping awake, and looked around almost wildly. Until his gaze snagging on one of the shelves, or more specifically, something sitting on it, and held.

“a bike, i did.” Stretch walked over to the shelf where a bandana was sitting, a bright turkey-red plaid, and picked it up, holding it out for Miss Maggie to see. “how much for this, too?”

By the time he left the shop, he was in a fine mood despite his savings being a little lighter. He was pushing a rattly old bike with a squeaky chain and a horn that let loose with a hoarse ‘awhooga’ when the dusty rubber bulb was squeezed. The bandana was stuffed into his short’s pocket and the first thing he was gonna do was deal with that, then he’d worry about some maintenance. Probably better to find out if his new bike was streetworthy before taking his act on the road.

He used the walk back to the store to draw in a few deep, refreshing breaths of the heat-smoggy air, letting it clear his head.

“miss maggie sure smokes some strong shit,” Stretch muttered to himself. He left the bike leaning against the porch around back and headed over to the main road, taking his normal walking route down towards the corn. There were no kids on the makeshift baseball diamond today, looked like they’d headed off somewhere else to enjoy their penny candy.

The grass was yellowed and dying under his sneakers as he went off the beaten path, heading towards the rustling corn. Was it his imagination, or did those whispers get louder as he approached, even eager? The corn got lonely sometimes, Edgar Allen had said, but it didn’t mean any harm.

Somehow, he didn’t think the skeleton they’d found in the fields back in Doris’s day would agree.

“um, hi?” Stretch tried. There was no one around to see him and he still felt ridiculous, talking to the damn corn. “look, i dunno if you can understand me, but if you do, could you see that edgar allen gets this? i wanted to thank him for helping me out and i thought it’d look good on him.”

Carefully, he laid the bandana over a crux of green leaves and stalk, tugging to make sure it wouldn’t simply blow away. He left it there and turned back to town, hoping that the scarecrow got the message; as much as he wanted to thank the guy, he really didn’t feel like taking a second go in the corn maze to do it. He didn’t look back until he got back to the side of the road and there he paused, frowning. The splash of red should’ve been vivid against the sea of green but there was nothing, not so much as a glimpse.

He craned his neck, searching, but it hadn’t fallen to the ground and the wind wasn’t strong enough to carry it off. Maybe the corn had gotten the message after all? Yeah, he was going with that, and he headed back to take a look at his new bike, hands in his pockets and whistling cheerfully, which was a heck of a trick for someone without lips.

Yeah, he felt pretty good today and why not? He had a place to stay, a job, someone looking after him, and a dog. And now he had a bike. Things were looking up, Stretch decided.

Things were looking up.

~~*~~

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #welcome to backwater

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spookygator · 4 years

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Riddler, Hatter and Scarecrow HCs.

Ed and Jonathan can’t typically work together cause Ed tends to become the dominant force in his own Riddleboi projects, but I have them as friends who play Resident Evil together. Jervis doesn't like the game very much, insists it is too scary for him, squeaks at everything. But Jervis and Jonathan unironically love taxidermy and creepy stop motion that makes Ed leap 60 ft in the air like a latent fucking kryptonian in terror. Jervis seems like the safest of the three then he like, brings home the most cursed fucking item from the antiques shop imaginable. Jonathan is enamored and Ed is regretting life choices. However! Jervis ALSO has an ongoing furby phase much to the discomfort of literally everyone around him. Jonathan comes into the hideaway house/lair he is to meet Jervis in and sees all these lovingly hand made Wonderland ass Furbs with glow in the dark eyes doing discordant overlapping book quotes and lowkey shits cause it is 3 am and he was not ready to see this.

#jonathan crane #jervis tetch #edward nygma #riddler #mad hatter #scarecrow

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myaekingheart · 4 years

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131. Say Yes to the Dress

read the scarecrow and the bell on ao3 index | from the beginning | < previous | next >

Rei opened and closed her fist as she made her way to the bookshop. It was a beautiful morning but not even the weather could quell her relentless panic. She only wished Toshio could be with her to ground her and remind her that everything would be okay. Even he seemed displeased that he could not join her, watching her curiously as she made her way to the front door to leave. He leapt to his feet, eager to accompany her, spotted tongue lopping out of the side of his mouth. He didn’t quite seem to understand when she lifted her palm and told him stay, tilting his head curiously as she backed up and promised him she would be home soon. As much as it pained her to leave him, it only made sense. Bridal shops were never very welcoming of dogs.

Still, a part of her would’ve loved to see the inevitable chaos unfold. Toshio would be like a bull in a china shop, making a mess of everything. It would serve as a rare bright spot in an otherwise unappealing day.

And truly, it wasn’t that Rei was against trying on wedding dresses. She knew it needed to happen and besides, wasn’t she desperate for the relief? Hadn’t she been manic with all that still needed to be done? With fears that she was running out of time? And really, what was more important to a wedding than a dress?

The child in her revered the thought with starry eyes, envisioning herself decked out like a fairytale princess. Within that excitement, however, was a very adult sense of fear. Shopping was never her forte and trying on clothes was dull and excessive. She remembered the shopping sprees that Naru would drag her on, the way she would encourage Rei to give every single garment a test-run. How can you know whether or not you’ll love it if you don’t actually wear it? She would ask. While Naru always enjoyed the glamour of it, posing in front of the mirror and playing with different skirt and shirt combinations, Rei always left exhausted and unfulfilled. Nothing ever looked as good on her body as it did on a hanger, or even worse on a picture-perfect mannequin.

Unfortunately, this sentiment could not be truer than it was now. Rei chewed her bottom lip, discretely smoothed her tunic over her stomach. She had skipped breakfast that morning just to be safe.

The chaos of the bookshop had significantly dwindled down over the past few days—a fact that Rei was grateful for now. The plan was simple: she would retrieve her mother and then they would both meet up with Sekkachi at the bridal shop for a two hour appointment of drowning in chiffon. Or at least Rei hoped they would meet Sekkachi. A part of her wouldn’t be surprised to find her bail. Lucky bitch, Rei thought to herself.

Hana looked up form the register as the little bell above the door chimed to signal Rei’s arrival. A young girl poked her head out from behind the sparse shelves and watched curiously. “There you are!” Hana exclaimed. She slipped out of her apron and tossed it on the stool behind the counter. “I was starting to fear that you weren’t going to show.”

“Why?” Rei asked, cocking a brow. She checked the clock on the adjacent wall. “We’ve still got fifteen more minutes.”

Hana shook her head in amused disdain as she slung her purse over her shoulder. “You never show up any later than thirty minutes early to these sorts of things” she corrected. Rei frowned. What was the point in showing up so early if you were bound to just wait around anyway? She didn’t see the point. If she had to spend even five more minutes than necessary in that bridal shop, she was definitely going to strangle herself with a lace garter.

As they approached the bookshop’s exit, the young girl hiding behind the bookshelves poked her head out expectantly. “Leaving already, Mrs. Natsuki?” she asked.

Hana nodded. “Now Yuzu, dear, are you sure you’ll be alright here on your own for a few hours?” she asked.

Yuzu? Rei thought to herself. She watched the girl grin and nod with utmost confidence—far more than appropriate for someone her age. She was a toothy kid, surely no older than twelve, with sandy blonde hair and thick fuschia glasses—the lenses of which magnified her sea-blue eyes much like the man at the antiques shop. She must’ve been legally blind, a sentiment only further enforced by her fashion sense. Her outfit was an obnoxious amalgamation of bright colors and mismatched patterns, childish and almost even clownish. Rei recognized the texts hugged to her chest as political memoirs.

“Don’t you worry, Mrs. Natsuki!” Yuzu replied. “I’ll make sure to keep everything running nice and smooth while you’re gone! And if anyone tries to start trouble, I’ll remind them that the real enemy is not me but the oppressive military establishment of capitalist Konoha as a whole! I think that should set them straight.” Here, she winked and Rei’s face suddenly felt hot and tense.

Hana nodded absently and waved her off as she exited the store, completely unaffected by this young girl’s words. Rei blinked, frozen for a solid ten seconds, before rushing off after her mother.

“So, uh, who’s the kid?” Rei asked as they turned the corner.

“Oh, just some extra help around the store!” Hana chirped. “Your father decided we needed an extra hand and Yuzu seemed bright and capable so we hired her!”

Yet again, Rei caught herself blinking in disbelief. “You know, if you guys needed a hand around the shop, you could’ve just asked me” she replied. “I’m still willing to come in and help out on my days off.” After all, wasn’t this a family business? That little kid was in no way family. Or at least no family of Rei’s.

Hana hummed and shook her head. “Well, now that you’re a captain, I figured you wouldn’t have any time for us. We all know how busy you must be” she said. She glanced to Rei with an ambiguous expression—something bordering ingenuity, or pity, or perhaps fullblown condescension. Either way, it made Rei’s blood boil.

Pursing her lips, Rei wrapped her arms tight around her waist and quickened her pace. After all, they didn’t want to be late, did they? As she sped toward the bridal shop, she muttered sourly under her breath, “Yeah, well I think she needs to get some sense knocked into her.” She couldn’t imagine her father taking very kindly to his new employee’s stances, but that wasn’t Rei’s problem. She wasn’t responsible for ironing out the consequences of her parents’ decisions—even if Yuzu’s personal politics felt like a slap in the face to the ANBU captain.

Much to Rei’s relief, Sekkachi was waiting dutifully for them outside the shop. A cigarette clenched between her teeth, she leaned against the otherwise spotless display window, smoke encircling her head like an ironic halo. “Well, I’m not used to being the early one around here” she jested, flicking some ash onto the ground. “Looks like Kakashi has finally rubbed off on you, huh, Rei?”

“We’re not that late” Rei grumbled under her breath, pushing past Sekkachi and into the shop. The blue-haired kunoichi cocked a brow in surprise, eyeing Hana before a sly smile spread across her lips. Pehraps this was going to be more fun than she had expected.

The shop itself was stark white inside and not just because of the dresses. The walls—or what was visible of them—were painted white, the carpet was white, every single piece of furniture was white. Rei felt herself begin to dissociate the moment she stepped into that godawful, colorless hell. And the entire place reeked like roses—nauseatingly so. Rei scanned the room but couldn’t find any logical source for the smell. It had to be a genjutsu—Rose Scented Give Me All Your Money no Jutsu. It seemed fitting enough.

As Hana approached the counter, Rei began to wonder if this was place was even real, if it had ever been touched by the gritty hands of the outside world. She imagined a fullblwoon battle breaking out right in the center of the showroom: a war between two high-strung brides over the same dress. They would claw one another’s eyes out and fling their bodies against the wall like ragdolls. Blood would splatter across the inventory. At least the puffy skirts, wide and pastry-shaped, would help cushion the impact. Probably.

Sekkachi rested a hand on Rei’s shoulder then, snapping her from her existential crisis. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as she nodded toward Hana, motioning for them to follow her into the belly of the beast. “I swear to fuck” Sekkachi whispered, half-joking, “I have never felt more butch in my entire life.”

Rei clenched her fist around the hem of her shirt as they approached one of many seating areas in the boutique. Somehow the shop seemed to expand even further back than she could’ve imagined, the room stretching out in front of her with every step forward. Or perhaps in her dissociation, she was only imagining it all. Simply descending down the esophagus of a rather large beast who had no intention of ever spitting her back out. She would be stuck here forever, tangled in the delicate lace and pearly strings of a million and one wedding gowns. Not even hell itself could serve a darker fate.

Their host was a rather angular woman in a black pencil skirt and black blazer. She was exactly what Rei would’ve expected to find in a place like this: polished and professional with an eternally robotic smile. Her name tag read Michiru.

“I’m so delighted that that you decided to help us plan your special day!” she chirped in greeting. Rei choked back the vomit rising in the back of her throat. “So, which one of you is the blushing bride?”

“Here she is!” Hana exclaimed. She paid no mind to her daughter’s resistance, her heels digging into the carpet, as she tugged Rei nearer. “This is my daughter, Rei! She’ll be getting married!”

Sekkachi rolled her eyes, grumbling under her breath, “No shit, why else would we be here?” Neither Michiru nor Hana seemed to hear her—or if they did, they did not acknowledge it.

“Wonderful to meet you, Rei” Michiru greeted. Her tone was polite but artificial. It was clear that she was eyeing Rei like a poisonous bug, looking her up and down and scrutinizing her every flaw. The scar across the bridge of Rei’s nose tingled. “So, tell me all about yourself, Rei. Let’s get acquainted!”

“Well, I’m a shinobi” Rei began. “I do a lot of, uh…domestic work. I’ve been at this for about twenty years now, I guess? Or at least if you count the academy, but that—”

“Oh, no, none of that!” Michiru interrupted, scrunching her face up as if someone had just released toxic gas throughout the entire building. She swatted the air with a manicured hand as if to wave off the stench of honesty. “I mean tell me the important things. When is the wedding? Who’s the lucky man? What kind of dress are we looking for? What is our budget?”

“Oh…” Rei murmured. She wasn’t quite sure why she felt so dejected—it made sense that Michiru only be interested in matters pertaining to the wedding. Yet still, that familiar sting returned to the back of her throat. Her mother’s remark bounced around in her head. It was becoming evidently clear to her now that there was a very narrow avenue of her existence that anyone ever seemed to care about. Everything else was just a detour.

Before Rei could formulate an answer, Sekkachi cleared her throat and raised her hand. Michiru slowly turned to her, cocking a brow in curiosity. “Yo, quick question: how do you know it’s a guy?” Sekkachi asked.

Michiru blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You know” Sekkachi replied, making a circular motion with her hand, “how do you know Rei isn’t gay? She could just as well be marrying a chick. You don’t know. Hell, she could be marrying me.”

“Sekkachi, please” Hana whispered, her face turning bright red.

“What?! It’s a valid question!” Sekkachi argued.

Rei sighed and shook her head, recentering Michiru’s attention. “Don’t listen to her, she was dropped on her head as a baby” she excused. Sekkachi gasped in mock shock, restraining laughter. “Alright, so the wedding date is March 14th” Rei finally replied, eyes squeezed shut in concentration.

“Oh, a wedding on White Day!” Michiru swooned. “A classic choice!” The gears in her head were already turning, filtering through their entire stock to mentally dress Rei in the perfect gown. “And what about your, erm…significant other?” she then asked.

“It’s a guy” Rei assured. Her cheeks burned red at the thought of having to describe her fiancé. Her gaze dropped to the ground and she rubbed the back of her neck anxiously. “Well, there’s really not much to tell. He’s a jonin leader so he’s great with kids. We’ve, uh…we’ve known each other practically our entire lives. He’s sweet and talented and—”

“And fucking famous!” Sekkachi interrupted. “You can’t forget that part, Rei.”

“Oh?” Michiru grinned. This was one interjection that she was actually delighted with. “How famous, exactly?”—a sudden gasp— “Might this be a celebrity wedding?”

Rei’s eyes widened as she raised her hands in surrender. “Oh god, no! Absolutely not!” she argued. “No, we’re just two very much normal shinobi looking to plan a very normal wedding.” She shot Sekkachi a fierce glare, as if threatening her to say one more word on the subject. She did not want to make a big deal out of this.

Sekkachi flopped down on the clamshell couch in the center of the room, sprawling her legs out in front of her. “I don’t see what the big deal is” she countered. “I mean, if I was marrying Kakashi Hatake—”

“Kakashi Hatake?!” Michiru exclaimed, her voice rising an octave. She quickly took Rei by the shoulders, narrowed her eyes in suspicious desperation. “Do you mean to tell me that your are marrying the infamous Copy Ninja, Kakashi Hatake of the Sharingan?”

“Y-Yeah…why?” Rei asked, taken aback.

Michiru squealed and clapped her hands together. “Oh, this is perfect!” she exclaimed. “I had heard rumors that Kakashi was engaged but I didn’t really think they were true. After all, up until a few months ago, it felt like no one even really knew he was taken but now! Now I have the honor of outfitting the bride in the wedding of the century! This will do wonders for our reputation.”

Rei rubbed her forearms awkwardly and averted her gaze. “I mean, really, it’s not that big of a deal. We—”

“No, no, I won’t hear another word of it!” Michiru interrupted. She grabbed Rei’s arms then and spread them out so as to stick her in a T-pose. “We need to get to work right away! What kind of dress are we looking for?”

“I-I don’t know” Rei admitted. “I never really thought about it.”

“Well, there are plenty of options to choose from!” Michiru grinned, motioning to their inventory with a flourish. And truly, every wall was packed with weding dresses—so much so that the wall itself was barely visible.

Rei chewed her lower lip, surveying the sea of white. “Yeah, maybe too many options” she muttered.

“Well let’s start with the basics” Michiru began. “Do you want something traditional or more modern? What kind of silhouette do you want? Do you like lace or crystals? Pearls would match that engagement ring perfectly! How much cleavage do you want to show? You know, you have great breasts—you should really bank on that!”

Hana cleared her throat, cocking a brow in scrutiny. “Now, now, let’s not get too hasty” she said, stepping between Michiru and her daughter. “As a bride, she ought to look respectable.”

“Eh, I’m gonna side with Cheery McSmilepants over here” Sekkachi countered. “I think Rei ought to flaunt what she’s got. After all, it’s not like anyone other than Kakashi is getting ahold of her. He might as well have something to excite him on the big day.”

“Fucking hell, Sekkachi” Rei muttered under her breath.

Sekkachi merely shrugged and reclined on the couch, propping her feet up on the clean glass coffee table before her. Hana whipped around and frowned, swatting Sekkachi’s forearm in a silent command for her to put her feet down, this was a nice establishment. Sekkachi grumbled but did as she was told.

Furrowing her brows, Rei replied to Michiru, “I mean, I don’t want to look slutty but I am not about to wear something puritanical.”

“Oh, yes, of course not!” Michiru nodded emphatically. Finally she felt as if she was slowly beginning to gain an understanding of what Rei had in mind, even if the vision wasn’t actually very clear in Rei’s head. “I think I know just the thing” Michiru continued, nodding as she raised an index finger in the air. “Something lavish, of course. And on trend! We can’t have Kakashi’s wife walking down the aisle in last year’s fashion.” She made a stinkface here as if the very idea made her sick to her stomach.

“What does that matter?” Sekkachi asked. “It’s not like anyone is going to know the difference.”

“I will know the difference” Michiru replied sharply. Without another word, she turned and began flitting around the shop like an anxious hummingbird, filing through the racks and gathering a handful of dresses into her arms. By the time she was finished, she returned with a stack thick enough to nearly cover her face.

“How much time do you think we have?” Sekkachi jested, leaning forward to poke at the chiffon. “How many dresses did you even grab? Fifty?”

Michiru shook her head. “Only three!” she replied. Without a single moment of hesitation, she grabbed Rei’s arm and drew her back into the dressing room. Rei glanced back at her mother and best friend over her shoulder as they went, and the look on her face was like that of a pig dragged to the slaughter: terrified and desperate.

The thing that Rei was not prepared for when it came to wedding dresses was just how difficult they would be to get into. Michiru commandeered the entire process, reducing Rei to nothing more than a living dress-up doll. She hated the way her body was exposed like this, the way her privacy felt violated, and how she knew Michiru would note every scar and scrape and stretch mark. As Michiru tugged Rei’s shirt up over her head, however, something far more pressing entered Rei’s mind. With a gasp, she immediately clapped her hand over her right shoulder.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Michiru asked, unamused. She craned her neck to try and get a better view of Rei’s blushed, anxious face.

“Uh…can I ask you one thing?” Rei chuckled nervously. Michiru urged her to continue. Her impatience was almost tangible. Grinning sheepishly, Rei asked, “Do any of these dresses, by chance, have sleeves?”

The longer Rei took in the dressing room, the more anxious Hana became. It was no secret that her daughter was not one for shopping sprees. She envisioned Rei giving Michiru a hard time, complaiing about every fluffy dress offered, perhaps even attempting to claw her way out of a window and escape. She glanced to Sekkachi, hoping that perhaps she felt the same, but instead she appeared completely unphased. Bored and unphased.

Hana was familiar enough with Sekkachi, of course, but to say that they were experienced with spending time alone together was vastly inaccurate. Hana only knew Sekkachi in the context of Rei and nothing more. Side by side unsupervised like this was new and unnerving. Twiddling her thumbs awkwardly, Hana finally asked, “So, do you intend to find a bridesmaid dress while you’re here?”

Sekkachi nearly choked on her own spit with laughter. “Oh god, no!” she exclaimed. “If I’m lucky, Rei will let me get by without having to wear a dress at all.” She was certain that Rei knew better than to force her into being traditional. Of all the things Sekkachi was willing to do for Rei, that was not one of them.

Before Hana had a chance to protest, Michiru came bounding out of the dressing room with a satisfied grin upon her face. Hana straightened her back, eyes wide in expectation. And then out came Rei, head drooped and hands clasped demurely. Hana gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears. “Oh, Rei, sweetheart!”

The first dress was, for lack of a better term, a marshmallow. The bodice was heavily bedazzled with blinding rhinestones, the neckline accentuating her breasts perhaps a little too much, and the chiffon skirt was so wide that Rei could barely fit through the doorway. Sekkachi’s face lit up at the ridiculousness of it all.

“So, what do we think?” Michiru asked. It was clear that she was already full to bursting with pride.

“You look so beautiful!” Hana enthused, restraining tears. “Just like a princess.” If she had to envision what her daughter should look like as a bride, this was pretty damn near close to it. Shimmering and shiny and ethereal.

Michiru glanced to Sekkachi, encouraging her to express her own opinion on the gown. “I mean…” Sekkachi started. She tried her hardest not to cringe. She failed. “It’s pretty obvious Rei is uncomfortable as fuck” she admitted. Hana’s eyes widened both at the insult and the blunt delivery. “And really, this thing looks nothing like Rei. Nothing about her says ‘sparkly marshmallow.’ I give it two thumbs down.” Here, she emphasized with the appropriate hand gesture and an accompanying raspberry.

Displeased, Michiru turned to Rei. “Well, you’re the bride. What do you think?”

Rei paused for a moment, surveying her reflection in the mirror. “Do you want me to be honest, or do you want me to lie…?” she asked slowly. Michiru’s face fell. She pointed to the dressing room and Rei immediately gathered her skirts and wobbled back to try on the next dress.

After four more failed attempts, the whole group was beginning to lose faith. Michiru was clearly off the mark in her understanding of Rei’s tastes, and Hana and Sekkachi’s opinions could not be further from one another.

“My god…” Rei muttered under her breath, staring now at herself in the most ridiculous, avant-garde thing she had ever seen. She was trying so hard to find reasons to love it. She kept coming up empty. “This is going to take forever, isn’t it?” she groaned.

Michiru pursed her lips. “Well, so far we’ve tried something flashy, we’ve tried something artistic, we’ve tried the classic and the modern, and none of them have been right” she recounted.

“They just don’t feel like…me” Rei replied. And after all, shouldn’t a wedding gown befit the bride herself? She didn’t want to just get married in anything. It needed to feel right.

“Well, what does feel like you?” Michiru asked.

Rei poked at the short hem of her balloon dress, tugged at the ribbons dangling from the corset front. “I don’t know” she admitted, defeatedly so. “I know what doesn’t feel right, but I can’t put my finger on what does.”

“Well, I think you ought to wear something sweet, like a princess” Hana interjected. “That’s what feels right to me.”

“Oh, give me a break!” Sekkachi groaned. “No, Rei needs something edgy, you know? She’s a modern day woman. She’s a fucking badass. She needs a dress that she can kick a man’s ass in.”

Rei tossed her head back and dug the heels of her hands into her eye sockets. If anything, her mother and Sekkachi’s commentary throughout all of this was just making things ten times worse. She was steadily reaching the end of her rope. Whipping around, she glared at them and then shouted, “Alright, then, if you think you both know me so well then why don’t you guys go pick something?!”

Hana and Sekkachi froze, glanced to one another, turned the thought over in their heads. Before they could say anything on the matter, Michiru stepped forward with a single clap. “Well, I think that’s a stupendous idea!” she exclaimed. She rushed over to the couch, urged Hana and Sekkachi to rise to their feet. “Why don’t you all go and survey the racks and come back with three dresses each for our bride. We’ll wait here until you’re done!”

“Oh, no you don’t” Rei then said, glaring at Michiru. “I’m joining them.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” Michiru argued, her voice unsteady with anxiety. There was a certain fury in Rei’s eyes now that she had never seen before, not even in the most vile of bridezillas. It was a fury far removed from the world of civilians. A shinobi’s fury.

“I’m not going to sit around and let them do all the work for me” Rei insisted. She carefully stepped down from her pedestal and began toddling toward the wall of dresses, her own a little too tight for her to walk properly. “If they get to have a hand in my fate, then I want a say, too. After all, it’s my fucking wedding day and I’m the bride.”

Michiru watched in paralyzed fear as Rei ripped through the racks, eyes hard and focused. She didn’t even know what she was looking for but she didn’t care. She’d find something. And if all else failed, she would be more than happy to just get married naked. She didn’t care. It was no longer worth the trouble.

Sekkachi admittedly found Rei’s frustration amusing, to say the least. It was the exact brand of chaos she needed to make this hellscape a little more tolerable. As they met in the middle of one of the racks, Sekkachi tugged one of the dresses out and grinned maniacally. “Well, doesn’t this look familiar!” she exclaimed, holding it up. The mere sight of it gave Rei post-traumatic stress. The collar was stiff and white and shaped like the plastic cones they put on dogs at the vet’s office. The sleeves were the size of blimps. Lace and tacky fake pearls covered the entire corset and hem. The same exact dress from the antiques shop.

“I think I just threw up in my mouth a little” Rei croaked, shoving it out of the way and suppressing laughter.

“It’s following you, Rei!” Sekkachi laughed. “It’s trying to tell you that this is the dress. It’s fate!”

“That’s not fate, I’m being fucking haunted is what it is” Rei replied, shaking her head. She turned back to the other dresses, trying to refocus.

Sekkachi rolled her eyes and tossed the abysmal gown to the wayside. “At least that dress has some creativity” she mused.

“And this one doesn’t?” Rei asked, motioning to whatever she was currently wearing.

“Hey, poodles and clowns deserve to live happily ever after, too!” Sekkachi jested. “Besides, at least it’s something. I mean, look at this shit.” Here, she pulled two dresses side by side off the racks. Both of them touted a sweetheart neckline, no straps or sleeves, and a fitted body down to a flared hem with iridescent pearl accents. “It’s like they’re not even fucking trying.”

Rei shrugged. “I guess it’s just a popular design?”

Sekkachi poked at the tags in the back, both of which crediting different designs. She shook her head in disdain. “I don’t get what the big deal is: they’re all the same fucking dress.”

“That’s not entirely true!” Michiru interrupted with a restrained, closed-mouth chuckle. God, Rei was really beginning to hate this woman. She stalked nearer, lightly shoving Sekkachi out of the way as she held up both of the dresses herself. “You see, this one is glacier white with akoya pearls, while this one snow white with freshwater pearls. They couldn’t be any more different!”

“Okay” Sekkachi scoffed, bugging her eyes out and pursing her lips incredulously. She fed Rei a look of amused insanity as she skirted around the woman to approach one of the other racks.

By the time they were finished, Rei had a total of 12 more very different dresses to assess. Michiru insisted that Rei try on her own picks first—the styles of which were inconsistent at best and troubling at worst. The bridal consultant had hoped, at least, that this would give her a better sense of which direction she hoped to go toward.

While each dress was beautiful in it’s own right, neither of them felt like Rei. She stared at her reflection with a look of disgust and disappointment at the third one, especially. “I really hoped that maybe this one would be it” she complained.

“Well, what do you like about it?” Michiru asked.

Rei shook her head. “I don’t know” she replied. “I thought maybe it would be a good fit for my body or something, but…I’m just uncomfortable.”

Sekkachi groaned and sprawled out on the couch, shaking her head. “And here I was hoping that this would be quick and easy” she complained. Pursing her lips, she then shifted on the couch to dig around in her back pouch, producing a tiny metal flask. “Guess I’m gonna need this after all” she said, popping off the cap and taking a long swig.

Rei whipped around, narrowing her eyes. “Hey, where the fuck did you get that from?!” she asked.

Sekkachi wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and replied coolly, “I figured if this was going to be as torturous as I expected, I’d need a little pick-me-up.”

Rolling her eyes, Rei turned back around, afforded one more look to the dress, then shook her head and waddled back to the dressing room.

At least all of Hana’s dresses exhibited some sense of consistency, but their lack of variation was perhaps taken too far. Each dress was far too simple with basic ballgown silhouettes and square necklines and capped sleeves. There were no adornments or bedazzling whatsoever—only a modest hint of lace here and there.

“What do we think?” Michiru asked, glancing to Hana. Rei’s mother sat with bated breath, her hands clasped in front of her. She was clearly pleased with her own choices.

“I think she looks beautiful!” Hana exclaimed. “Just how I’d imagine her on her wedding day.”

“I-I don’t know…” Rei murmured. She turned this way and that, studying the drape of the fabric and the texture of the silk. “I mean, they’re pretty but I just…I don’t know, I feel kind of…uninspired.”

Sekkachi nodded. “I think I’m gonna have to side with Rei on this” she mentioned. “They’re just too plain.”

“So we’re thinking something a little more creative then?” Michiru asked.

Sekkachi and Rei nodded in unison. “You know” the blue-haired kunoichi then said, “Whoever said Rei had to wear a white wedding dress, anyway? Maybe that’s the big issue here.”

“Why wouldn’t she wear white?” Hana countered. “She’s getting married, not going to a cocktail party. All brides wear white.”

“I mean, for what it’s worth” Sekkachi chuckled, “Do you really think she can even get away with wearing white on her wedding day? We all know her and Kakashi have fucked.”

Hana’s face immediately went pale at the prospect. She had never considered her daughter a sexual being up until now, regardless of her enthusiasm for grandchildren. Frankly, it was something she never wanted to consider. The thought of Kakashi’s hands on her daughter’s body, naked and sweaty and writhing together…it was just too much. In one fluid motion, Hana reached across the couch and stole the flask from Sekkachi’s hands to take a long, desperate swig herself. Rei’s eyes widened in shock. She had never seen her mother drink alcohol so enthusiastically before.

Sighing, Michiru straightened her blazer. “Well, then! If it’s creativity we want, I think I have just the thing.” She motioned for Rei to follow her and together they departed for the dressing room yet again.

It only took one of Michiru’s options to convince Rei that this woman was completely unqualified to dress her. This one was more garish than the last with indescribable pompoms and a short, poofy skirt that, yet again, resembled a marshmallow. Ribbons hung down sloppily from the bodice and skirt’s hem like some sort of warped, second-grade school project jellyfish. It also, unfortunately, came with a terrible wide-brimmed hat lined with the same puffy pompoms and draped with poorly-cut tulle.

‘Now, this dress is a couture design straight from Yumegakure” Michiru explained, motioning to Rei with an expert flourish. “It might be a little out of your price range, but I’d say it’s worth it for such a high-end brand!”

Sekkachi nearly gagged at the sight of it, restraining ridiculous laughter. “Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t have started drinking after all” she choked out. She fished around in her back pouch for her medication, the bottle reading in large bold letters do not take with alcohol. “Just the sight of that thing I giving me indigestion” she muttered. She would just have to brave the overwhelming disgust.

Frowning, Rei tore the hat off her head and tossed it across the room. It landed squarely atop one of the many nondescript mannequins, spinning around the head before settling crooked. “Alright, that’s it!” she shouted. She threw her hands up in surrender and grabbed Michiru’s clipboard. “I will try on one more dress, and only one more dress, and if that one doesn’t spark anything then fuck it, I’m getting married naked.” With a firm grip still on the clipboard, she dragged Michiru back to the dressing room with furious purpose. The woman chuckled at Hana and Sekkachi over her shoulder, silently certain she was about to meet her end.

All of Sekkachi’s choices were far edgier and less traditional—a jumpsuit with a chiffon train, a form-fitting dress with a cowl-neck and thigh-high slit. The one that Rei picked out of all of them, however, was perhaps the most promising option of them all.

After fifteen agonizing minutes, Michiru trudged out of the dressing room frazzled and fatigued and collapsed onto the couch beside Hana. “I think we’ve finally done it” she sighed. “I don’t know how, but we have.” With a lazy flourish of her hand, she signaled for Rei to step out into the light.

The dress she wore now was simple but not plain, sexy but not slutty. It hugged Rei’s curves in all the right places and the deep sweetheart neckline accentuated her assets. It even had simple, long sleeves to perfectly mask her tattoo. Pearls dripped subtly down the bodice, flaring out into a loose, high-low skirt that was feminine but not unmanageable. For all intents and purposes, it was perfect.

“Well?” Michiru asked anxiously. “How do you feel? Is it the one?”

“It’s beautiful” Rei said, studying her figure in the mirror, “but…I don’t know.”

“I think you look stunning” Hana cooed, an affectionate expression painting her face. It was not what she had dreamed of for her little girl, but she could tell that Rei wore this one well.

Sekkachi smirked and whistled, adding, “I bet it’ll take all of Kakashi’s strength not to rip that right off of you.” Hana tried to ignore the snidely sexual remark, regardless of how uncomfortable it left her. Beaming with satisfaction, Sekkachi nudged Hana on the arm and jested, “See? I told you I knew her sense of style better than anyone else.” Hana pursed her lips and nodded slowly. If anything, perhaps this just proved how little she really did know about her daughter’s tastes. Or rather, about her daughter in general.

Michiru seemed pleased with the positive feedback, as if she took all the credit for finding the perfect dress. “So?” she asked, turning to Rei. “Have we been successful here today? Are you saying yes to this dress?”

Rei lingered on her reflection for a moment longer. It truly was a beautiful dress but…

“I just…don’t feel that magic” Rei confessed slowly, sadly. Her shoulders drooped in defeat. “It’s a beautiful dress, and I love it, but…I don’t know, I just don’t have that feeling in the pit of my chest. I don’t feel like I’m going to cry. I don’t feel that magic.”

Sekkachi cocked a brow, leaning forward. “Are you supposed to?” she asked. “Like, is that one of the requirements for this? I didn’t there was any big emotional investment involved here, just find the dress you like best and be done with it. Right?”

“I don’t know” Rei sighed in defeat. “I always hear people talk about how they just, like, break down in tears when they find ‘the one’, you know? I thought it was supposed to be this amazing, magical moment where everything suddenly feels just right. I don’t know, maybe I’m just romanticizing everything or something, I just—”

“No, no, you’re not romanticizing anything” Michiru interrupted. “I have outfitted thousands of brides in my career and they always find the perfect dress. Maybe you just need to try it with a veil? I’ll go get one and we’ll see what you think then!” Before Rei could protest, Michiru had ducked around a corner to ruffle through their stock of accessories. When she returned, she fixed a simple veil right at the base of Rei’s ponytail. The chiffon laid awkwardly over the fluff of her hair, trailing down the small of her back. “How about now? Do you feel anything?” Michiru asked, recoiling and motioning for Rei to view her reflection.

Tears pricked at the back of her eyes at the sight of herself, but not out of understanding or acceptance. She still didn’t feel anything. By now, she must have exhausted the entire boutique’s stock. A sinking feeling lodged itself in the pit of her chest—this was all for nothing. Her dress, the dress she was destined for, was not here. It couldn’t be. But Rei could sense the disappointment in the air. It hung heavy, almost palpable, and a wave of guilt washed over her. She turned this way and that, shifting in the dress—which was far too tight around the waist, anyway, but she didn’t dare mention this. She was running out of options. She could settle. She could learn to love it. She could learn to fall in love with it.

Shaking her head, Rei turned back around to her entourage and whispered, “I think I can see myself getting married in this. I think this would work just fine.” She forced a smile, smoothing the dress out over her stomach and toying with the featured pearls.

Michiru beamed, clapping her hands together in delight. “I knew the veil would fix things! It always does!” she exclaimed, glancing to Hana and Sekkachi over her shoulder. Turning back to Rei, then, she asked with glorious purpose, “So, Rei, have you made your final decision? Are you finally saying yes to this dress?”

Chewing her lower lip, Rei nodded slowly. “I think I am.” Her audience collectively sighed in relief, cheering at having finally found the dress. And really, if nothing else, it felt good to have finally made a decision. This was one last thing for her to worry about. The dress, a true icon of any wedding, had finally been chosen.

Hana rose to her feet, extending her arms out for a hug from her daughter. Smiling, Rei carefully stepped down off the pedestal but as she bent down to gather her skirts, she was paralyzed. A sudden tearing sound echoed through the room. Hana’s face fell. Michiru paled. Sekkachi suppressed hysterical laughter.

“Oh, god…” Rei whispered in horror. Her hand slowly shifted to her back, feeling for the rip in the fabric. Maybe it wasn’t that bad. Maybe it was only a little tear. Maybe it was easily fixable. Certainly this wasn’t the first time this had happened to a bride, nor would it be the last. As her fingers traced the back of her dress, however, it became all too clear that this was not fine. The dress had practically ripped apart all the way from the nape of her neck to the small of her back. Rei’s face turned beet red. Smiling sheepishly, she turnd to Michiru and croaked out, “How much did this one cost again…?”

Michiru blinked, replying with a weak, “Seven thousand dollars.” In that exact moment, Rei immediately felt like she was going to be sick. Without a moment of hesitation, she surged forward and stole the flask from Sekkachi’s hand, knocking back the rest of her booze.

By the time they left, the shop was already preparing to close for the day. The setting sun painted the sky in rich red and orange and pink. Mothers called their children, sweaty and red-faced, inside after a long day of play. What began as a mere two-hour appointment transformed into a five-hour catastrophe. Rei, Hana, and Sekkachi were tired and hungry and defeated. And more importantly, they did not leave with a wedding dress.

“That’s it!”Rei exclaimed as they slipped back into Kaminoki. Yuzu had since gone home. Standing behind the register instead was none other than Grandma Teiko. The old woman arched a brow curiously as Rei fell back against one of the bookshelves and lamented, “I’m officially getting married ass naked!”

“Rough day?” Teiko chuckled.

Sekkachi trudged past her and made a beeline straight for the shop’s bathroom, muttering as she went, “You have no fucking clue.”

Hana sighed and shook her head, rubbing her temples as she approached the counter. “We must have tried on every dress in Konoha and still, none of them were right” she complained. Rei had to admit her overexaggeration was not appreciated.

“Oh?” Teiko asked. “Is that so?”

“You know, I blame modern wedding traditions” Rei replied, a sour expression on her face. “Everyone these days either wants to look like a big, fat pastry or like a slinky lounge singer. It’s like every ounce of class has just gone right out the fucking window!”

Sekkachi propped the bathroom door open for only a moment to shout back, “As if you know anything about class!”

Frustrated, Rei yelled in response, “As if you do!”

“Girls, please try to calm down” Hana begged. All of this was giving her a migraine. That sip of alcohol from earlier was not helping her case. For a moment, she even regretted ever doing this but then felt immensely guilty at the thought. She had only wanted to do something nice for her daughter. To create a bonding experience. Instead, all she received was an absolute disaster.

Teiko hummed softly as she hobbled around the counter, reaching for Rei’s hand. Despite her confusion, Rei did not protest. “Come on, I think I have an idea” Teiko murmured. A sly smile touched her lips, a knowing twinkle glinting in her eye, as she guided Rei upstairs.

Rei followed Teiko into her bedroom, struck by an immediate sense of nostalgia. The faint scent of lavender, the floral duvet, the various perfume bottles on the antique dresser; they all warped Rei straight back to childhood days curling up in her grandmother’s lap as she read her bedtime stories and quelled anxiety and depression alike. She watched as Teiko struggled to pull a large trunk out from under her bed. Rei knew better than to interfere and try to help. Before she unlocked it, however, Teiko glared up at Rei and commanded, “Cover your eyes, girl.” Rei hesitated for only a moment and then did as she was told.

“Grandma, what is all of this about?” she asked. She listened close to the snap of the lock, the swish of fabrics and knock of knick-knacks as the old woman rustled around inside the case.

Teiko pursed her lips as she worked dutifully. “Do you remember when you were a little girl, and you went to Konoha Matsuri with Kakashi?” she asked. Rei furrowed her brows as the memories came to her in hazy splotches. She was only three years old, but she remembered the colorful lights and the boom of fireworks in her chest. She remembered the little dog figurine that Kakashi had won her and the way she kept dropping her gyoza on the ground. Kakashi went back to order more dumplings for her each time, ultimately resorting to feeding her himself in an effort to prevent even more disaster. He sacrificed so that she would not miss out on her favorite food, even at the expense of his own growing cold. And then Rei remembered the dress.

That afternoon, after lamenting that she had nothing to wear, Rei was presented with a lavish kimono, an heirloom, straight from Grandma Teiko’s trunk. The ornate fabric was sleek and soft, the colors vibrant and cool. Nostalgia aside, Teiko did not hesitate to resize the dress to perfectly fit Rei’s tiny toddler body.

A sudden fear washed over Rei as she suddenly understood the situation at hand. “Grandma, wait, no—” she protested, nearly peeking through her fingers. Grandma Teiko caught her in an instant, slapping her forearm with her cane.

“Not yet, girl” she snapped. “You’ll open your eyes when I tell you to.” Rei muttered a soft, despondent sorry as she tried to maintain composure. She couldn’t possibly imagine the specifics but mch like the way a rain cloud rolls across the sky, she could feel something large and unbearable growing ever nearer. Something she knew she would not be able to accept.

And then Grandma Teiko was finished. Rei heard her slide the curtains back, saw the array of fresh light from behind her eyelids. The tapping of the old woman’s cane echoed as she stepped nearer. Grandma Teiko wrapped her shaky, wrinkled old hands around Rei’s wrists then and gently moved her hands away from her face. “Now you can open your eyes” she said.

Rei blinked, taking a moment to adjust to the light, before comprehending what lay before her. Srpawled across the bed was a stunning white kimono, sleek and satin. Beautiful pink camellias, dainty baby’s breath, and delicate cherry blossoms danced across the fabric. It was not nearly as ornate as what the noble clans wore but what it lacked in extravagance, it made up for in both grace and sentimentality.

“This was the kimono that I got married in so many years ago” Teiko explained. Rei gently caressed the fabric, gentle and tender as if she was afraid it might crumble beneath her touch. Teiko paused for only a moment to watch, her heart swelling. And then, smiling softly, she said, “I want you to try it on.”

Rei’s head snapped up, eyes wide with disbelief. She searched her grandmother’s face for even the slightest hint of disingenuity, that this was all just some sick joke. When she found none, she glanced back to the kimono and shook her head. “Grandma, I can’t. That’s just…I can’t do that” she protested. She couldn’t quite understand why, but the prospect terrified her.

Grandma Teiko, however, would not hear a word of it. “Of course you can, girl” she countered. Before Rei could say anything more, the old woman began helping her get changed. She gently tugged Rei’s shirt over her head, smoothing it out across the bed beside the kimono. She encouraged Rei to remove her pants, and she did so slowly, methodically. Procrastinating.

Exposed before the old woman, Rei felt much like she had earlier in the dressing room with Michiru. But Teiko was not a stranger. She knew Rei deeply, knew of her scars and her struggles alike. Within that knowing came a very different sense of fear. Her stomach growled softly. Teiko arched a brow but said nothing of it. Rei wrapped her arms around her waist, attempted to shrink herself. She refused to look at herself in the mirror. The thick, anxious air weighed heavily on her shoulders.

Grandma Teiko seemed completely unphased by all of this. She simply moved Rei’s arms out of the way here and there, as if yet again Rei was nothing more than a dress-up doll. In a way, the entire act felt almost nostalgic. She thought of when Rei was a child, too young to dress herself, and Teiko would take up the responsibility. Rei always knew exactly what she wanted to wear, or rather what she was comfortable wearing. When Hana suggested a dress, Rei chose pants and an old t-shirt. Something she could move in, something unisex and uninhibiting. Funny how even back then, Teiko saw so much of herself reflected in Rei. And that could not have been truer now.

Time crept by slowly as Hana waited in the shop below. She needed answers. She needed to know what was going on, and that Rei had not spiralled even further into her own insanity. The toilet flushed and Sekkachi trudged out of the bathroom, face dewy with sweat. She froze when she noticed Hana, eyes manic and desperate. “What…? What is it?” Sekkachi asked.

Hana merely wrung her hands together, glanced this way and that, and then grabbed Sekkachi’s hands and pulled her upstairs with her. Sekkachi grumbled under her breath, muttering something about how she hadn’t even washed her hands yet.

Unsure and anxious, Hana crept steadily up the stairs to peer into the old woman’s room. It was then that Sekkachi understood the true weight of the situation. She followed suit and then they saw it: Rei.

She stood there in the center of the room, hands clasped in front of her and head downcast. The evening sunlight poured through the windows and bathed her in an ethereal glow. Rei bit the inside of her cheek as she slowly turned to the doorway, lifted her gaze, and asked, “Well? What do you think?”

Hana immediately clapped her hands over her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes. Of all the dresses her daughter had tried on thus far, this was in an entire league of it’s own. If her ideal vision of her daughter as a bride was hazy before, seeing her now had clarified that image tenfold. “You look beautiful” Hana choked, trying to restrain herself. “Like a true bride.”

Even Sekkachi could hardly wipe the smile off her face. “Now that looks fitting for Kakashi’s wife.”

“You really think so?” Rei asked, tucking her long bangs back behind her ear. She glanced to Grandma Teiko for reassurance.

The old woman gave a single nod before motioning to the full-length mirror on the other wall. “See for yourself” she said.

As Rei turned to view her reflection, her breath hitched in her throat. She immediately clapped a hand over her mouth, muttering a muffled, “Oh my god…” Her eyes grew glossy and an incredulous little laugh bubbled up from deep within her chest. For the longest time, Rei had never considered herself bridal material. She yearned to be a wife, yes, but when she tried to envision her wedding day, when she tried to imagine herself walking down the aisle, she couldn’t see it. She couldn’t picture herself amid the flowers and lace, embodying such a traditional role. It didn’t feel fitting. She had consequently assumed that perhaps she was never really meant to be someone’s wife at all. That she had just romanticized the idea, envisioned someone else’s path rather than her own. The distance between her and Kakashi over the years only further cemented this idea in her head.

And yet now here she was. Now her and Kakashi were in love. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, he yearned for her to become his wife. Looking at herself now, she finally saw everything slowly come together. She could see herself walking down that aisle, taking Kakashi’s hand in hers, and vowing to love one another until the end of their days. Without a doubt, this was the dress.

Yuruganai huffed and adjusted his glasses on his face as he stepped out of his office for the first time all afternoon. The sight of Hana and Sekkachi idling in the doorway only further irked him. The hallway was far too narrow for people to loiter like this. Frustrated, he stalked forward and asked, “What’s going on here?”

Hana simply looked back at him over her shoulder, a soft smile on her teary face. She could not restrain herself any longer. She took her husband’s hand in hers and, confused as he was, pulled him nearer. “We’ve found the dress” she croaked.

Yuruganai arched a brow, leaning into the room to look for himself. The moment he saw his daughter, it all became clear to him. His eyes widened, his mouth slightly agape. Rei was like he had never seen her before. He was, undeniably, speechless. Teiko grinned back at him knowingly as she caught his eyes welling up, but the fear of being known was far too much for him to handle. He quickly wiped his eyes and shook away the emotion. “Well, a hand-me-down dress is going to save me lots of money on this wedding, anyway” he muttered before turning and retreating back to his office. He slammed the door rather loudly and Hana could tell that deep down, he was losing it. Perhaps he had a heart, after all.

Teiko hobbled up behind her granddaughter and placed her hands firmly on her shoulders. “If you like it so much, Rei, then it’s yours” she smiled.

“Oh god, Grandma, b-but I can’t!” Rei protested, turning to face the old woman. Marrying in her old wedding dress just didn’t feel right, like she was stealing a part of Teiko’s past. She could never live with the hole it would leave in her history.

Teiko swatted at the air and made a sour face. “Nonsense, girl!” she countered. “Do I look like I have any use for it now?” She motioned to her body, old and hunched and fat, then patted Rei on the shoulder. “You wear it better than I ever could, anyway.”

Rei afforded her reflection one last glance, smoothing the dress out over her stomach and adjusting the sleeves. Another sob caught in her throat as the reality of the situation truly settled in. A tender smile touched her lips as se reached back to take Grandma Teiko’s hand in hers, squeezing it tightly. This was it. The first day of the rest of her life was rapidly approaching. She was getting married, and she was going to be Kakashi Hatake’s wife. A soft smile touched her lips as she whispered softly, “Thank you, Grandma. For everything.”

#rei natsuki #kakashi hatake #kakashi x oc #the scarecrow and the bell #naruto #naruto oc #fanfiction

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scaryscarecrows · 4 years

Text

Gaslights Cast

EVERYONE’S HERE GOOD GOD.

Penguin

Oswald Cobblepot/the Penguin: local crime lord. If asked, he’s been lucky with his nightclub and dabbles in imports and exports. This is true. The I&E is, like, 95% illegal. Oswald also has a tight grip on several of the local street gangs, and he absolutely has his fingers in a lot of pies. Rats don’t cross the street without him knowing, but he’s an easygoing sort. Usually. Oswald is a second-gen immigrant from Russia; Mama Penguin speaks very little English and her son spends at minimum one weekend a month making sure her bills are settled and all that. (Usually more. Oswald has no qualms about stabbing a man ten times, but he adores his mother.)

Dove Marquis: on paper, Oswald’s personal secretary. In practice, manages half the business. This is intentional; it’s 1895, in the event that he gets arrested, literally nobody is going to suspect a woman of managing a whole-ass crime syndicate. She can keep things from going up in smoke until he bribes his way out of jail. Dove is also occasionally the Beard; she has a red wig so things don’t get awkward. She is a third-gen immigrant from France.

Olga Bykov: Oswald’s housekeeper on paper and his at-home bodyguard in reality. Do not fuck with her. She has a meat cleaver on her person 90% of the time and will just, like, body slam you otherwise. (He’s scared of her. He should be.) Olga is a first-gen immigrant from Russia-she came over when she was about five-and spent her teenage years robbing graves for the medical students.

Edward Nygma: Technically he works with rather than for; Eddie runs an antiques shop that Oswald’s, er, interestingly acquired goods frequently go through. He’s got buyers all over the place and his own random connections, including a very nice professor interested in chemistry. :p Edward is a Gotham native.

The Cranes

General: They work as a pair; you don’t see one without the other very often, and even then, they’re not far. Scarecrow likes to hear himself talk, while the Grey Lady is dead silent. Both of them work on horseback-easier to run down victims that way-and communicate over long distances via whistles. They don’t come out in the daytime hardly ever.

Jonathan Crane/the Scarecrow: Psychology professor at Gotham University, specializing in phobias. Dabbles in chemistry from time to time. While his modern-day counterpart doesn’t care who gets caught up in his experiments, Gaslights!Scarecrow has a taste for churchgoers on account of his...unfortunate...upbringing. His fear toxin was created by accident, but that started giving him ideas. He is technically local, but after his parents died when he was small, his great-grandmother took him in and as such, he was raised in Georgia. Unfortunate, that, given the war and all.

Scarecrow’s horse is a Friesian; a black mare named Carmilla. He usually paints her up with phosphorus, a la The Hound of the Baskervilles, to give her a more frightening appearance. Apart from his chemical weaponry, he carries a scythe.

Kitty Crane/the Grey Lady: Modern Kitty is not enamored with the alter ego thing. Gaslights!Kitty has dressed up like a Ring Wraith for women’s rights. I’m not even kidding. Jack the Ripper-or, more accurately, the polices’ failure to handle Jack-pissed her off. The public’s lack of care did not help. Kitty is British, though her parents moved to Georgia when she was small; she and Jonathan are childhood friends.

Kitty’s horse is an early relative of the modern-day Thoroughbred; she values speed and agility over pants-browning terror. He is grey and named Verne. She carries a sword and she is good with it, both on and off the horse.

The Robins

General: As kids, they went from being under Penguin’s wing (hahahahaha) to working with Batman. Then Jason died and that was the end of that. :/ As adults, they work as a group, and their methods are closer to the modern-day Red Hood than Batman would like. Jason and Tim are local, Dick is, as he puts it, ‘a citizen of the world’; he was literally born on the circus train.

Dick Grayson/Bluebird: The oldest. Dick considers it his job to take care of the other two whether they want it or not, and Heaven help you if one of them gets hurt and it’s your fault. He’s been the older brother since he was nine, y’all, he’ll destroy you. That said, he’s the charmer of the lot-Olga adores him, which is saying something-and usually the spokesbird when it comes down to it. He retains his circus background, and calling their little trio the Cock Robins was his idea. His current name is actually from the Asian Fairy-bluebird. Look it up. It’s a little birdified Nightwing, I swear. Costume-wise, he’s his usual black and blue (WITH FINGERSTRIPES GODDAMMIT), with multiple nasty surprises included; he does carry batons, but he also carries a crap-ton of throwing knives, studded brass knuckles, and a garrote. He’s not as lethal as Jason can be-usually, anyway-but he is the most unsettling to watch, if only because he’s a fast, flexible bastard. Half the underworld’s convinced he’s not human. Adorable Baby Dickie was a big fan of ‘circus’, which consisted of him screaming, ‘GET READY!’ and hurling himself over the balcony to (hopefully) be caught by whomever was passing by. Dove lost ten years from that. Olga and Bruce usually just snatched him out of the air.

Jason Todd/Shrike: The middle child. Died. Got better. Jason runs a little more supernatural than sometimes; he has a white streak in his bangs, he’s sensitive to ghosts (he hates this) and he’s got two scars from his untimely demise; a roundish one on his ribs from being impaled, and an autopsy scar. Ra’s found him quite by accident post-resurrection, but keeping him proved to be. Futile. He’s furious with Bruce for leaving his brothers to do the right thing (kill the clown) and is, by far, the one you don’t want to meet in a dark alley. He doesn’t prefer guns, because they’re unreliable; instead, he favors the kris blade he stole from Ra’s on his way out. As per usual, he grew up in shoddy circumstances-Catherine died of lung cancer-but he’s got a knack for languages...barring French. He sucks at French. He turns everything into something very inappropriate no matter how hard he tries not to. Costume-wise, he’s dressed in a soldier’s uniform that he’s dyed black (’good soldier’, my ass, Bruce, HERE YOU GO) and while he did attempt to go with a red helmet at first, it was metal, it dented, and he ended up going with a rudimentary gas mask and red goggles instead.

Tim Drake/Finch: The baby. His brothers call him Baby Bird to piss him off. He wonders why he loves them. Tim comes from money; his parents died under mysterious circumstances and his uncle essentially went, ‘fuck this’ and, ah, disappeared him. It was an outright murder attempt, but even though it failed, the public thought otherwise. Good luck proving anything in the 1800s. (Penguin knows. Bruce has his suspicions.) Tim’s the more technical-minded of his siblings, which can lead to bad times for criminals. He has the Sherlock Scan down pat, which means he can and will find weak spots to exploit...and has the knowledge of how to make that excruciating, yet survivable. Costume-wise, Tim’s gone with a variant of the plague doctor look; the nose of his mask is shorter, for practicality, but he carries a staff and wears a long coat (all the better to conceal gadgets in!). He’s the least chatty of the lot, but he has a knack for spouting creative threats. (Usually these are directed at his brothers, because they’re awful.) Interestingly, he’s Penguin’s favorite, though not just because he’s quiet; Tim is honestly good Crime Lord material, and it’s not totally unlikely that he’d end up running the empire.

#gaslights 'verse #Oswald Cobblepot #Dove Marquis #Jonathan Crane #Kitty Richardson #Dick Grayson #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #character list #mostly for me because I NEED IT #but you can look at it

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thefivecalls · 4 years

Text

Things I associate with each of the sides for no reason

Logan:

I understand he's supposed to be dark blue or indigo. Regardless, he will always be teal. This teal:

For some reason when I got detention that one time I got a Logan vibe so yeah theres that

"Space... The final frontier..." But uhhh just the opening has his vibes

Why is he always whereing a neck tie and not a bow tie? If anyone has necktie vibes its Janus not Logan

Logan also has chaos incarnate vibes that are only in check because of his last shreds of humanity one of these days he'll break and when he does thomas can and will set something on fire using bill nye the science guy tactics

He is waking up early and going to bed late

He is framing posters

He is dancing in your bedroom to awesome music that has never been such a vibe before that moment and will never be again.

Broken clocks

Beaker from the muppets? I don't quite get it but yeah

Rock of ages

Getting a pitcher of soda or tea or whatever and setting it on his desk, then getting 23 straws and taping them together so he can lay in bed on his phone and safely drink it without spilling

Grilled cheese

Kahoot music

Remus:

Death waltz. Not the synthesia no the one that takes 14 people to play.

Canoeing

Obviously he has close combat weapons but have you thought about giving him a bow and arrow? I have and yes thats a vibe because he is one of three people I've ever met with those vibes ok

Portable speakers

He is bonfires and fireworks.

He is hyperfixating on something and writing a story until 4 in the morning.

Potions!

The fact that witches ingredients are actually just named strange things but are edible somethings? Like mustard seeds being newts eyes and the like

Acid

In my human anatomy class we dissected deer hearts and when we found the blood clots we called them the Forbidden Jellies.

The county fair

The circus that comes around at fall festival time

Homecoming game in football/rugby

I feel like if he played an instrument he'd be a baritone

The lime green smoke Disney villians have

Roman:

Zootopia the movie

Hopping. Or bouncing in place.

My family's crest?? I think its because of his crest but he had those vibes before the outift upgrade???? Idk

The ponytail thing that give you a unicorn horn when you've got short hair but bangs that are beginning to grow out

He is picnics at the park

He is also going shopping

He is also dancing in the rain at four in the morning with the outside lights on and the music blaring but its ok the neigbors are four acres away and they sleep like the dead.

When I went to my first metal concert and I saw the mosh pit? The exhilaration that comes with wanting to join but not wanting to get crushed is a Roman thing.

Pancakes

Cold pizza at midnight

Succulents!

Fire and cane whiskey

The warm smiles that the bearer never gets to see because they don't get the chance to see it in a reflection

Butterscotch

Janus:

Springtime showers that makes snowmelt rivers

Prom. Dont ask this is just a him vibe ok

He seems like the guy that would make a blanket cacoon/nest when his bedsheets are in the wash and can I say mood

Sunlight

Looking off my back porch and seeing the feilds of corn beginning to dry out in late fall every three years.

Pumpkin soup

Apple cider

Lemonade

Not only is he snowmelt rivers he is also the first thunderstorm of summertime

Sun tea. Not the brand the stuff that you make via harnessing the suns power

Cucumber facemasks

Wildflower honey

The person who youd never guess goes to comic con but is actually the one who wins first place in the costume contest every year

Oversized sweaters

German Sheppards and yellow labs sunbathing after playing for hours

Antique mirrors

Burlap canvas bags

Oil paint

Espressos at ten at night

Late night chinese food runs

Dragons

Spice. Not the average spice either I'm talking could eat a carolina reaper and yes he'll be more red but he could still talk and thats more than I can say for myself

Virgil:

The red rubber balls from kick ball in elementary. By god I can smell the plastic just thinking about it

Flappy stims! Almost every time I flap he comes to mind I never really questioned it

The weighted blanket my dad got that I steal from him all the time

'He's a Mary poppins in a world of hasselhoffs" my friend once said that not even talking about Virgil but like. Come on.

Basically all of Star Lord's vibes are Virgils

Deadpool

Jack Skellington (kinda obvs)

Sample perfumes that are like the size of a pinky

Telescopes

Not writing an essay but instead learning all about world history or astronomy or psychology

Earings. Specifically hoops

Black pearls

Boardwalks that have tiny shops along them with a bunch of food.

Going to a club or a party with flashing lights and even though you're kinda nervous you have fun and live like tomorrow is still a dream away.

Ripped movie posters that the theater is selling

Tying ropes together to make nets.

Fairy lights

Taping movie theater tickets to your wall after you've gone and seen it

Scarecrows sitting on bales of hay at sunset next to my willow tree and the cicadas are on their 13th year so they're the loudest they'll ve until another 13 years have passed

The glint in someone's eye when they think of something mischievous

Bang by AJR

The corpse bride's tale/song

Patton:

The lazer eye meme. This one

Graham Crackers. Not smores, not candy crack-just the cracker ok

Pep rallies

The pet store??

Sugar sculptures

Corn pits (strictly midwestern thing)

Driving for hours upon hours and seeing the strange statues some towns have as you pass them by

Silver sparkles

Art herpes glitter

Photo booths

Riding in the back of a pickup truck on the county's main road

Wedding crystals cabinet where you put the fancy china you're going to give to your children that never gets used once but is probably worth half your house

The chubby bunny challenge

The moment when you tip your chair back too far and you know it but you can't do anything because you'll be on the floor in a second anyway

The thing maya did from Girl Meets World when she slammed lockers closed and caused the chalkboard to let its dust fly

Dusk.

That moment when everything is going by so quickly so you step back and watch the world go by for only a few seconds but then you're back in the present laughing with your friends

Snow cones melting and getting the syrup all over your hands

Orange Side:

All things citrus but especially lemons no not oranges lemons

Sunglasses

Men in black 1 not the rest just the first

Pineapple too hes got a lot of pineapple vibes

Combat boots but with spikes

Also lace?

And tea. Like, all kinds of tea but especially the really expensive stuff that I've only tasted like twice thats imported from Ireland

Himalayan salt lamps.

Sensies. the wax melting things

Candles too

Once we meet him I'll have more but this is it for him for now

Thats it! If this gets notes I might do emile remy and thomas but I think I'll leave this be for the moment. Have a great day y'all!

#sanders sides #logan sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders

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wackygoofball · 5 years

Note

Love the positively because it's all we have sometimes. I just have one request could do a howl moving castle mood board for Jaime and Brienne. I love the book and movie think Jaime fits Howl perfectly while Brienne fits Sopie. It would make my day.

Hi anon, sorry it took me a while to get back to you with the awesome suggestion, but since I never watched the movie as a whole (I know, shame on me), I had to do some more research before I could get it done. I hope this helps you stay as positive as I am. :D

The plot bunnies to go along with it look like as follows:

Brienne of Tarth lives an ordinary life, well, howeverordinary a life one can have as one of the few female smiths King’s Landing hasever seen. However, it was her late father’s dying wish that she would continuethe family business in his spirit. When the ongoing war between King’s Landingand Winterfell drove many people out of her father’s company, Brienne foundherself more often working in the forge herself. And so, she became a smith,producing materials for the military as well as finest metalwork she sells toeager customers.

Born ugly and mannish, Brienne resigned herself to herfate long time ago, only ever keeping her long braid as her father always lovedthe look on her, as he said.

Rumors start to spread that the mysterious movingcastle of the sorcerer Jaime was seen around the area of King’s Landing. Thehandsome wizard is rumored to steal the hearts of young, beautiful women, whichis why Brienne gives nothing much on the rumors. He certainly wouldn’t want tosteal her heart!

After hours of labor on a special request, Briennemakes her way to Lady Olenna, who ordered a brooch from her to wear to hergranddaughter’s engagement party. As she makes her way through the city, sheruns into a group of soldiers, and not of the honorable kind like her fatherused to be back in the day. First they address her as a man, and once theyrealize that she is, in fact, a woman, they laugh so hard they nearly toppleover. Brienne wants to brush past them, but they won’t let her. It is duringmoments such as these that she wished she had been born a man, because then shewould be a soldier, too, and could roughen them up without having to fear forconsequences otherwise sure to await her since the soldiers are underprotection of the Queen. Just as they provoke her enough to make her lash out,Brienne suddenly feels a strong hand on her shoulder. A wickedly handsome manbeams at her, acting as though they were a couple, arguing that he’s beenlooking for her everywhere.

Before Brienne knows what’s happening, she comes torealize that the man is no one other than the sorcerer Jaime, who, with the aidof his magic, makes sure that the soldiers get lost fast.

“I didn’t need your help.”

“Which does not hinder you from thanking me for myservices regardless of the fact.”

“Why did you help me?”

“I only rescue maidens.”

Brienne and he are on the verge of getting into anargument when they are suddenly chased by a bunch of shadowy creatures. Theyoung woman is shocked when the wizard just grabs her and flies with her overthe city. Just what is happening? Why does he care about her? Why is he here?What would he want with a woman like her?

But before Brienne can ask any questions, he drops heroff at Olenna’s, telling her that it’s not safe for her anymore. He wishes herfarewell before disappearing without a trace. A very excited Margaery andOlenna welcome Brienne, on their balcony no less, poking her for all kinds ofinformation about the ominous man who must have been the infamous JaimeLannister. Brienne plays it all down, arguing that even if it was him by somewink of fate, he certainly wasn’t there to steal her heart.

No one wants to steal that thing because no one wantsto keep it. She learned that lesson long time ago during a party, after all.

Brienne delivers the brooch and is quick to excuseherself before Olenna and Margaery manage to force her to attend the party. Briennereturns to the shop, deciding she may work on her secret passion, forgingswords, to put her heart at ease. Late at night, someone enters the shop.Brienne is irritated when an elegant woman in a black dress comes inside,demanding her services, all the while complaining about the poor conditions ofthe shop. Politely, the young woman informs her that the shop is closed andthat she will have to return tomorrow to place her order. The older woman doesnot take no for an answer, though, and instead continues to venture throughBrienne’s shop.

Frustration gets the better of her and she curses atthe woman to leave her shop. Infuriated, the woman with short hair walks up toher – and then right through Brienne. She gasps, only now starting tounderstand that this is not an ordinary woman but a witch. However, that shockis shortlived as she soon has to realize that the witch did something to her.With horror Brienne observes as her hands turn wrinkly and her bones start toache. A look into the mirror reveals the horrid truth: she was turned into anold woman!

“That’s what you get for daring to speak like that tothe Witch of the Waste.”

“Witch of the Waste… you invaded my shop! I didn’t doanything! Turn me back! What did you do to me?! Take it back!”

“I can’t take it back. I can only curse not undo it…sorry about that, I suppose. I will be on my way.”

“You can’t just leave me like this!”

But the woman is gone before Brienne can demandanother thing. Brienne is petrified. How is she supposed to keep her father’spromise if she is suddenly of old age? How is she supposed to work the forge?How is any of this possible? Brienne breaks down in tears and falls asleepeventually, only to be roused by Margaery’s voice echoing through her workshop.Brienne hides behind the forge since she doesn’t want to be seen like this.Margaery wants to pick up the diadem she had ordered. Brienne quickly tells herwhere to find it. Margaery is overjoyed at the jewel’s beauty, but Brienne isquick to send her out of the shop, telling her that she must have caught a coldand wouldn’t want the future bride to get sick.

Once the young, beautiful woman is gone to find herluck, Brienne realizes that she cannot stay in King’s Landing. Thus, she packsher things and leaves everything behind – until she found a way to break thewitch’s curse. She travels the outskirts of the city, only to run into a mutebut alive scarecrow. At first she is scared, but Brienne realizes that thedark-clad figure means her no harm and in fact shows her a way through theworld she yet has to get to know.

She is shocked to discover that the scarecrow leadsher to the moving castle the people talked about so much. Brienne enters whenno one answers the door, only to run into a dark-haired boy who can transformhimself at will. He introduces himself as Jaime’s apprentice, Podrick, or Podas he prefers to be called. Brienne also gets to meet a talking flame namedTyrion who is the source of the castle’s magic.

The fire reveals itself as quite clever, sensinginstantly that Brienne is under the influence of a curse, though Tyrion notesthat it will be tough to dispel.

“And can you lift the curse?”

“Only if you make a deal with me. I lift your curseand for that you let me be free.”

“And you are sure you can keep such a promise?”

“I know for a fact that I don’t. I am an evil thing,after all.”

“Well, then I certainly won’t be making any deals withyou.”

“You should, though. Because I always pay my debtsonce they are due. So if you break me free, I shall break the curse for you.”

“What would I have to do?”

“Find out and say aloud the secret behind Jaime andme.”

“You… don’t know?”

“I seem to have forgotten. It is tough to remember thefuture.”

“Remember the future? What?”

“He’s cryptic like that a lot, m’lady.”

“You know what? Fine, deal.”

What does she have to lose, right? Brienne alreadylost everything and that means, in fact, that she has everything to gain.

Though Brienne must say, adapting to this new lifewon’t be easy. The magic castle is truly… magical. Doors may lead just outsidethe countryside she came from one time, but with the twist of a knob, it maylead right into the heart of King’s Landing, only a few miles away from whereher shop is… or used to be. Stranger things keep occurring as people come tothe house again and again, requesting “the Kingslayer” here or “the goldenlion” elsewhere, though always with the same message which they give to Pod,namely that he is to be of “service” to a King here, a Queen there.

Once that show is done, silence starts to spread inthe house, and Brienne dares to venture around and ask some necessaryquestions, such as the sorcery behind the door. Pod tells her that there is onefield painted black on the navigation that only Master Jaime knows to where itleads and that they are forbidden from travelling there.

Brienne busies herself around the house, reckoning shehas to make herself appear useful somehow, starts to clean, surprised to findmany antique weapons around the house, though most are rusty and blunt,something that nearly makes her mad. Who dares to leave such fine weaponry insuch poor condition? Once she is done with the look around the house, Briennefixes up breakfast for the inhabitants, though she is soon dissatisfied withthe poor condition of the stove, too. And if there is one thing she learned asa smith, then it is to keep your fire going. If she can’t fix the weapons, thestove should be within her capacities.

“Leave that alone! I don’t want to labor that hard.Not until you have given me some wine.”

“Since when do fires need wine?”

“I’m a magical flame. I need wine!”

“You need no such thing. You need to focus and getworking. You are complacent, are you not?”

“Pod, make her stop!”

“I don’t think I can, Master Tyrion.”

“Ugh.”

As Brienne is in the middle of sparking up biggerflames in the stove, someone enters, and it is the same man she ran into in thestreets the other day. Shocked, she scrambles to her feet.

“Welcome back, Master Jaime! You got a letter from theQueen. And the Kingslayer got one from the King!”

“How wonderful!” Jaime huffs, rolling his eyes as hewalks inside. He looks at Tyrion in the stove. “Since when do you burn so much?You didn’t even have any wine just yet to fuel the flames.”

“I was forced into action by this lady here. Shebullies me!”

“Not many can do that now. Quite impressive. Who areyou?” he looks at Brienne curiously, obviously not recognizing the woman hehelped out in King’s Landing.

“My name is Brienne. I am… I’m the new maid.”

“Who decided that we needed a maid and that you wouldget the job?”

“… I did. By myself. And you won’t find anyone morehardworking than me, rest assured, Master Jaime.”

“Jaime, just Jaime,” he tells her in a soft voice thatbrings heat to Brienne’s wrinkly cheeks, though she is quick to gather herself.“… Jaime. The point is… I alsocouldn’t help but notice that you have a great deal of blunt weapons lyingaround.”

“Memories of many other lives, yes. Why is that ofinterest to you?”

“I can fix them for you. And I bet no other maid youmay find to do the duty can do that for you, too.”

“I mean no offense, m’lady, but aren’t you past theage to be a smith?” he argues.

“… give me the weapon you love the least and give me afire worth a forge and you can see for yourself.”

“I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“I’m not afraid of pain. I’m not afraid of anything!”she insists.

He laughs. “You seem quite serious.”

“I keep my promises. Do you?”

“Is that a challenge? I quite like that. Fine, youshall have it, Miss Brienne.”

Before she knows what’s happening, the stovetransforms into a fully heated forge. Tyrion jumps into a metal bin beside it,succumbing to the small flame the alcohol in the wine within with a satisfiedsigh.

Jaime hands Brienne a rusty blade. “If you break it,it won’t be a great loss. This one was never quite my favorite, actually.”

Brienne only now notices that the handsome man wears agolden hand on his right as he nervously stuffs it away with a forced smile.She takes the blade from him and sets out to work, finding all that she needslying beside the forge. She is irritated that the handsome man keeps watchingher, though he insists he does so for her own safety. He wouldn’t want her todrop the hammer on her head.

“Bad reputation.”

She won’t let that stop her, so Brienne gathers all ofher strengths and starts to labor, no matter how tough it proves to be on hernow old body. However, there is still might in her body and years of work atthe forge taught her the moves her body won’t forget in a lifetime. Jaimewatches intently, all the more shocked when the old woman presents him aperfectly redone arakh, though arguably, she even improved it as she madeembellishments visible again where they had long since faded.

“I am a wizard myself but I never saw such magic.”

“It’s not magic. It’s craft,” Brienne argues, feelingquite embarrassed by his compliments. She had people in awe with her handicraftbefore, but never quite so. The way his eyes beam up… it’s something, well, magical.

“And magic is another kind of craft. This ismarvelous, Brienne, truly. Well, it appears I have to keep my promise to younow, which is why you are now welcome into my castle as our new maid… and mypersonal smith.”

“… Thank you.”

“Oh no, I thank you,” he smiles, carrying the arakhaway to put it back in place.

For a while, Brienne is more than pleased with her newmaster, but he soon reveals himself as quite an arrogant brat. Not only does hespend too much time in the bathroom to fix himself up in her humble opinion,but he goes nearly insane when he ends up using some strange mix of potions,blaming Brienne for messing up the order thanks to her cleaning. Brienne isshocked when the man emerges from the bath with no more than a towel wrappedaround his waist, complaining about how ugly he is now, his blond hair nowshort and he grew a beard, too!

“I might just as well die!” he declares.

“You are being overly dramatic.”

“Last time this happened, he summoned a dark spirit,”Tyrion warns her, which prompts Brienne into action despite her growingdiscomfort for the sake of being so close to a barely clothed handsome man thelikes of this sorcerer. “Jaime, now look. Nothing gets better by doing this.And anyway, you are a wizard, are you not? You can change your hair and beardback, can’t you?”

“Doesn’t matter. It happened.”

“What, by the Seven, even happened to begin with toupset you so?”

“I look like the self I want to forget!” Jaime cries.“I banished that ugly bastard to where he belonged! And now he is back.”

“Ugly? Ugly!You don’t even know what that means, do you? You are as handsome as ever,perchance even more! Look at you! I mean… I mean… what I am trying to say isthat whatever part of your past haunts you, you are living in the present now.And in the present, you are complaining about your beautiful looks, saying youare ugly, when you don’t even know what ugly is. I've never been beautiful forall my life! Do you see me complain all day long?! No! Right, because thisdoesn’t matter! It shouldn’t matter!”

Brienne storms out of the castle as rain starts topour from the sky. She allows the tears to come this time.

“I don’t want to stay here anymore!” she whimpers,surprised when the scarecrow offers her an umbrella as a small consolation,though that shock is nothing compared to Jaime approaching her all of a sudden,though now more properly dressed.

“What do you want?”

“I came to apologize,” he answers, much to hersurprise. “That was… unworthy of me, please forgive me.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“When I looked in the mirror, I didn’t see thesorcerer Jaime, I saw Jaime Lannister, the man who had his hand cut off by adark wizard in times of war.” He points at his golden hand. “And there is no magicto fix that ever again. That part of me is gone. And I swore to myself to buryit. I never wanted to be this man again.”

“Just because you look like that doesn’t mean you are this,”she points out to him.

“I see that now, too.”

Brienne stares at him. “You do?”

She did not expect Jaime to admit to much of anything,let alone show any kind of humbleness.

“… Yes,” he says, looking down at the puddles fed bythe rain. “Because I realized it when I looked at you instead.”

“At me?”

“You look like an old woman but you have the heart andstrength of a knight.”

Brienne blushes furiously at that, not knowing what tomake of any of this. Just what is her heart doing, beating so fast over such acompliment? He means nothing more but to make it up to her, doesn’t he?

“… I am sorry. Can we… can we agree on a truce?”

“You need trust to have a truce.”

“I trust you.”

“… Then… then we have a truce, I suppose.”

He smiles at her. “So you won’t leave?”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go anyway.”

“Then let’s go back home, shall we?” he holds out hishand to her and Brienne allows Jaime to lead her back into his moving castle,no, their home. And for a moment,however brief, Brienne feels like a young girl all of a sudden.

Over time, Brienne finds herself accustoming to thisnew life faster than she ever would have imagined. In fact, she starts to feelhappiness when she thought all was lost the moment she had to run away fromhome. She is shocked when Jaime discovers a secret note the wretched Witch ofthe Waste attached to her.

“Old magic, very powerful, too,” Jaime commentspensively.

“Don’t tell me that’s from her!” Tyrion pouts.

“It appears so.”

“I need more wine.”

“You don’t.”

“What… what is the matter with you and her?” Brienne wantsto know.

“We have a… history going back… an old tale, nearlyforgotten. And now you seem to have a story of your own, do you not, Brienne?”

She says nothing, not knowing how to explain herself.

“He, the one whograsped a shooting star… such a mindless man, your heart shall forever be mine.No one walks away from me… She is still as unoriginal as I remember her tobe,” Jaime scoffs before setting the letter magically on fire.

“You can’t lift her curse either, can you?” Brienneasks hesitantly.

“I’m afraid I can’t. She’s always had a fancy forparticularly wretched curses. And this one, it seems, can only be lifted byyourself, Brienne. Thus, on this, I am afraid, I cannot help you with mymagic.”

“Lift my own curse… well, that means it’s a lostcause,” Brienne mutters to herself, feeling at least ten years older. Sheremains inconsolable for a time, but Pod and Jaime manage to cheer her back upand Brienne starts to feel younger again. Particularly in Jaime’s presence, shetends to forget time and time again that she is an ugly old hag no one couldpossibly enjoy to have in his or her company. Though those moments don’t lastlong, because deep down, Brienne knows that one simple truth, that he may enjoyher company but that he could never fancy or Gods forbid love her. No one evercan, not in that way.

New trouble is not far away as it is revealed that theletters that came to them the first day she came to stay at the moving castlemay force Jaime to help either the King or the Queen who have been at war eversince the Prince that was Promised went missing. Jaime, like any othersorcerer, is obliged to fulfill that duty, though Jaime tended to escape byusing aliases to keep himself hidden.

“It appears we are running out of options, that isunless…,” Jaime ponders.

“Unless…?”Brienne frowns.

“Unless you volunteered to help me.”

“What would you want me to do?”

He smiles. “Oh, since you offered your services, Brienne,you would only have to pretend to be the Kingslayer’s mother and tell the Kingthat his powers are no good and that he would do best searching for someoneelse to do the deed for him.”

“The King?Isn’t he at Winterfell after he took the former stronghold of the Starks fromthe Boltons?”

“No more. He’s travelled to King’s Landing fornegotiations meant to fail. The Dragon Queen won’t budge, that’s for sure, andneither will that stubborn idiot Stannis. All you’d have to do is tell him thatI am no good follower of R’hllor, which is true enough, and that my serviceswould only ever bring him great disadvantage. I’m no longer the fighter I usedto be, tell him that. I lost a hand, after all!”

“You lost that before, Jaime!” Tyrion argues.

“He doesn’t have to know that!”

“You ask me to lie for you?”

“You volunteered!”

“I did not!”

However, in the end, Brienne feels obliged to go asJaime showed kindness to her when likely no one else ever would, consideringthat she is a now old, ugly, mannish woman who struggles working a forge,entirely alone in the world. Thus, she decides to do Jaime the favor and speakto Stannis Baratheon. She is shocked when Jaime puts a ring on her finger,telling her that it’s a magical jewel that will guide her the way back homeeach time.

“Why would you give me that?” she asks.

“To keep you safe, of course.”

Brienne huffs. “I don’t need anyone’s protection.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t use it.” He winks at herbefore they part ways.

Brienne heads out to meet the King’s advisor andJaime’s former mentor, the powerful witch Melisandre of Asshai. Just as she isabout to come face-to-face with the woman, Brienne runs into no one other thanthe Witch of the Waste. Furious, she demands retribution for her act, but thewitch has little care to give, arguing that she has any intention to get toMelisandre before Brienne can to finally gain more power.

“Only power is power, after all,” as the witch tellsher.

The two women start to race, but the closer they cometo Melisandre the older the Witch of the Waste looks. Brienne is in shock. Sheis the one to reach Melisandre first, who seems all the more amused byBrienne’s presence. The sorceress greets her, all the more interested inBrienne posing as the Kingslayer’s mother.

“He was my last apprentice, did you know? So talented,so gifted. I thought about leaving my position to him,” she tells Brienne,nodding at her necklace with a beaming red stone at its center. “I would haveliked for him to continue to teach the next generations about the Red God. Afterall, he once ridded the world of a great evil, the Mad King. He proved himselfworthy that day, even if that meant his reputation was forever ruined. However,his heart was stolen by darkness, and he left before the Lord of Light couldcleanse him of it. Such a pity.”

Jaime’s heart – stolen? What does she mean? Briennehas so many questions, but she doesn’t get to ask them yet again.

When the Witch of the Waste arrives, or rather dragsherself into the room, Melisandre can’t hold back her laughter.

“What happened to her?” Brienne wants to know.

“She got a taste, a taste of the real world. Becauseour dear Witch of the Waste seems to have forgotten.”

“The real world?”

“She is drained of her powers, no more than a harmlessold woman, devoid of all power,” Melisandre explains. The other witch isfurious, but so out of breath and short before passing out that she can’t domuch to protest. “That is what happens to all sorcerers who let themselves beconsumed by selfish desires. She made deals with darkness and that is now thepayback for it. And if your son does not watch it, he’ll end up just like her,as something that is… anything but human, powerless, meaningless. The onlything that may save him would be Lightbringer, then.”

“Lightbringer?”

“The sword of legend that can purge the world ofdarkness.”

“And where would one find that magical sword?” Brienneasks.

“It isn’t found, it’s made, but no one ever did.”

Brienne, despite her misgivings for the witch, findsherself speaking on her behalf as she finds such treatment more than cruel andunjustified. For a moment, she is on the verge of turning young, but onceMelisandre mentions it, Brienne quickly turns back to her old self.

“So… you, Mother of the Kingslayer, came here to tellus what?” Melisandre wants to know.

“That my son is unfit of fighting the King’s war. Helost a hand, you must know, and his belief in the Lord of Light has since beenshaken. He will only cause King Stannis trouble, I am sure.”

“And why couldn’t he come here himself to tell me so?”the witch questions, obviously not really buying it, which makes Brienne feellike failure already, but before she can grow older again, she gathers herself.

She has to do this, for Jaime.

“You ask me?” Brienne huffs, putting on the best actshe can. “I am merely doing what all mothers do, to protect the dear children.”

“Is that so?”

“You say he has no heart, right? I suppose that, in away… that is not entirely untrue. You are right that he can be selfish andarrogant, and sometimes I can’t see what he’s thinking because he is good to dohide his sadness behind his smiles. But of that one thing I am sure: He is notevil and isn’t ever going to be.”

“What gives you that confidence?”

“… I trust him,” Brienne answers resolutely, ifshocked by the apparent force of truth coming with that message.

“The Kingslayer’s Mother… You are in love with him,are you not?”

Brienne blushes, but doesn’t get to ponder the wordsas suddenly the Witch of the Waste means to intervene loudly: “Lies! All lies!”she wheezes all of a sudden.

“Shut your mouth already!” Brienne hisses.

“You are not his mother! That’d make you my mother,too! That can’t be! She’s dead! Dead! Dead!”

“What did I just tell you?!” Brienne curses, only forher eyes to widen once realization dawns on her. “And what was that???”

Brienne doesn’t get to ponder this much as Melisandretells her that Jaime will suffer the same destiny as the Witch of the Waste,being bereft of all power and turned into a shadow of himself, if he does notfollow the call of duty every sorcerer has to abide by. Just as Melisandremeans to question her about her true identity, Jaime appears in disguise andsnatches Brienne away. Melisandre gives them chase, but they manage to escape,though they end up rescuing the Witch of the Waste as well, something Jaime isnot at all pleased about.

“I didn’t recognize you. Otherwise I would have leftyou there,” Jaime scoffs.

“I would have left you there, too, brother dear.”

“Good that we agree on something at last.”

“What is it with you two?” Brienne asks.

“What? I thought you made my sister’s acquaintancealready.”

“Your sister???”

“Twin sister.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me that?” Brienne pouts.

“I didn’t find that detail important.”

“Detail?! This is no detail. Why would I not find thatimportant to your mind?!”

“I walked away from her long time ago,” Jaime explains.

“And yet here we are, brother dear.”

“Thanks to you, not me.”

Cersei narrows her eyes at him. “How’s the littlemonster doing?”

“Better than you, apparently.”

“Pity.”

Jaime is tempted to throw her off the carriage andleave her, but Brienne tells him that it would be without honor to do such athing. However, their escape and Brienne’s safety foremost, takes priority forJaime soon enough, which is why he instructs her to use the ring to guide herback to the castle while he will distract Melisandre’s shadow creaturesfollowing them. Brienne urges him to stay by her side, but Jaime tells her thathe found his courage back thanks to her and it’s time to use it. They part andBrienne alongside Cersei nearly crash into the castle, though Brienne does notcare much as her mind is focused on Jaime, who has not yet returned.

Tyrion and Cersei instantly get into a fight, whichalso reveals that Tyrion is another brother of hers, and Brienne feels all themore tempted to throw them both out of the house, and if Tyrion wasn’tnecessary for the house, she would. However, her frustration ends when she canhear noises upstairs.

“That must be Jaime!” she concludes. Brienne wants torun upstairs to check on him, but when she reaches the staircase, she findsbloodied black feathers spread all around.

“What happened here?” she gasps.

“He transformed into his not-human self, to protectyou,” Pod informs her.

“So… so that is what he would turn into if he went toofar?”

“He can turn back for now, but it gets more difficulteach time. I wouldn’t go up there, though, m’lady,” Pod warns her. “It’sdangerous and Master Jaime wants to be alone when he turns.”

“He needs help,” Brienne argues and proceeds up thestairs, not letting her fright get the better of her. She finds Jaime, and itis just as Pod said, he is a man in bird’s shape with a feral, dark energysurrounding him that she can feel her skin crawl.

“Jaime! You are back! Are you alright? I saw blood.”

“Stay away from me,” he wheezes, trying his best tohide himself from her view. He doesn’t want her to see him like this, no one issupposed to see what he is on the verge of becoming, but he can’t bear thethought to be like this in front of Brienne. He can’t fail her like that.

“But you need help!” she insists. “I want to set youfree from the curse put on you!”

“You should think about your own, Brienne. Why would youtry to do that for a monster like me anyway?”

“Because I… I…,” she stutters. “I… care about you andI don’t want to lose you. We have a truce, don’t you remember?”

“It's too late!”

“It’s not. Just let me help you.”

“Leave me now, Brienne.”

Before she can say anything more, Jaime retreated to apart of the castle she can’t get to. Brienne walks back downstairs to get moreinformation from Pod, Tyrion, and Cersei. While Tyrion in particular cannot saymuch without breaking the magical contract that is part of his and Jaime’sshared curse, he can confirm that this ominous sword named Lightbringer may haveto do with it.

“We spent many, many years searching for it, but nosuch luck. Why do you think do we have that many around the house?” Tyriontells her.

“Melisandre said that you can’t find it but that youhave to make it.”

“So?”

“Well, maybe I can make it?” she suggests uncertainly.“I am a smith, after all.”

“I don’t think it’s that easy,” Cersei scoffs. “Youare just an old hag.”

“Rich coming from you now, sister,” Tyrion huffs. “Andno one asked for your opinion anyway… Why is she here again? I thought we all decidednot to like her, you included, Brienne. She put that curse on you.”

“She’s an old woman and in need of help, that is why,”Brienne answers.

“Ugh. Honorable people all around. Then I rather am anevil fire, fueled by wine. That’s fun at least.”

“Back to the sword… it may not be easy, and perhaps it’sfor nothing, but I have to try at least, don’t you think?” Brienne argues – andTyrion can’t tell her no this time.

The next day, Jaime emerges, looking like his usualself. Brienne is glad to see that he is alright, though she can also spot theworry behind the thin veil of his smile. All the same, the group now has todeal with the fact that the Witch of the Waste, Cersei Lannister, is nowstaying there as she would be absolutely helpless without their support. Tyrionis furious, Jaime is irritated, and Podrick is confused. Brienne, for her part,is only interested in finding out more about the magical sword named Lightbringer.Jaime tells her all that he knows of the blade, that it is made of Valyriansteel, the Song of Ice and Fire. Brienne asks him if he is in possession ofsuch a blade, and he says there is one, the ancestral sword of House Stark.

“Something… my father took without asking, really.”

“Your family is odd. To say the least.”

He snorts, amused. “We are all kinds of terrible, Iknow.”

“What happened between you anyway?” Brienne askscautiously.

“I loved too much, she loved too little, and Tyrion… hesought love he could not get and turned to someone whose love did him littlegood.”

“I suppose you can’t tell me more?”

“Not without ending up dead by breaking my contract, I’mafraid.”

“Be it as it may… will you let me have that sword?”

“You want to forge Lightbringer?” He frowns.

“If I’m not mistaken, this sword is called Ice. If itis exposed to fire… perhaps that will do the trick. This sword is so big, I canmake two out of it. That will give me at least one blade to experiment with tosee what works best. It’s worth the try.”

“I don’t want you to overexert yourself,” Jaime argueswith concern heavy in his voice.

“Nonsense,” she scoffs. “Remember our truce? Now it’stime that you trust me to forge that sword.”

“But Brienne, I really don’t want you to…”

“I will forge that sword… for you.”

“I won’t convince you otherwise, will I?”

“I always keep my promises.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that.”

And so, Brienne begins the difficult task, if notimpossible task, to forge a sword she doesn’t know the shape or exact materialsof, and that as an old woman no less. However, that won’t stop her from trying.She has to give it a shot, at least. Because she can’t bear the thought to loseJaime to the darkness without a fight.

But the clock is ticking as the war comes closer andcloser, and with two monarchs demanding of Jaime to fight their wars, to thepoint of forgetting regret itself and losing his last shreds of humanity,things look more than dire.

And while Brienne focuses all of her efforts onforging that sword to save Jaime, the sorcerer is more concerned with forging ahome for her within the castle.

As much as both try to hold on to those little hopesand big promises of a future, the ongoing war between Queen Daenerys and KingStannis keep raging, forcing Jaime out of the safety of the castle into thedarkness that will consume him soon enough unless Brienne manages to forgeLightbringer.

How this tale concludes, though, only the sorcerersknow the answers…

#jaime x brienne #jaime lannister #brienne of tarth #game of thrones #got moodboard #got aesthetic #moodboard #aesthetic #wacky tries gimp #fanfic #in smol #wacky writes fanfic #anon #thanks anon #this was such a lovely suggestion #weeeeeeeee

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classic-rock-roller · 6 years

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1. You are playing hide and seek with Crue, Kevin, and Randy. You’ve found Vince, Randy, and Kevin, but not anyone else. They’re helping you look for people when you hear a strange banging noise. Tommy rolls out from under the sink; he’d somehow managed to wedge himself into the small metal cupboard under there. You’re slightly confused, and Tommy is breathing heavily. “So…many….chemicals…..Lung cancer….imminent.” How do the 4 of you respond?

Me: “Why were you stupid enough to hide in there?”

Vince: “From your stupidity, you kind of deserve to apparently get your “imminent lung cancer”

Kevin: *Trying to control his snickering and then breaks out into a full out laugh*

Randy: “How did you even fit in there?”

2.You and Duff are going through a corn maze, and after about ten minutes, you are hopelessly lost. You insist you’ll find your way out if you keep going, but Duff says “Fuck that!” and begins crashing through the corn to find the exit. What do you do?

“Hey, stop that! That’s cheating!” I’d run after him and pull him back to the maze, “Don’t you want to prove to Slash and Axl that we did this the right way? No, come on! This maze won’t complete itself.” He’d roll his eyes but follow along.

3. You are running around an abandoned farm with Kevin, Randy, Rudy, and Drew. You chase Kevin around the corner of an outbuilding and you hear someone cry out in pain behind you. Rudy wasn’t looking where he was going and he scraped his leg on a broken fence post. You and Kevin decide he needs to go to the hospital, but Randy is nowhere in sight, and you can’t leave him behind. What do you do?

“Randy, get your ass over here. Rudy got hurt and we’re going to the hospital.” I’d wait for a second and when he didn’t show up, “Unless you want to spend the night with the haunted scarecrow that wanders the farm.” Kevin would look over at me and go, “Haunted scarecrow, really?” I’d just shrug, wait another minute, and go, “Ok, Kevin, start the car.” “What?” Rudy groans in the back seat. “Start. the. car. Can’t you see Rudy’s in pain.” Kevin would start the car and Randy would come running. “I’m here, I’m here. I don’t want to be left with the haunted scarecrow.” He’d pile in the back with Rudy and Drew. I’d get in the front seat and Kevin would look over at me, “I didn’t think that’d work...”

4. You go to a pawn shop with Crue to sell some of your dad’s old tools. After you’re done, you hear, “Aww, wicked.” Nikki found a real antique katana, and he has his heart set on buying it. How do you respond?

“Well, if you want to buy it, sure. But we have some ground rules. First, that is not to be used on Tommy, Mick, Vince, or I AT ALL. Even if just for a joke. Second, it will stay in its sheath AT ALL TIMES. You will not take it out unless absolutely necessary. And third, it must remain on a stand on the wall unless you are showing it to someone. Deal?” Nikki would pout at first but then go, “Deal.”

5. You come home with takeout one day, and when it’s dished, Kevin is eating faster than usual. “Just out of curiosity, when was the last time you ate?” “Dunno, I think a couple days ago. Why?” How do you respond?

“Kevin, Honey, that’s not good. You have to eat every day.” He’d look up at me, “What happened to ‘I eat and sleep when convenient’? You say that all the time.” “I know but I make myself eat at least once a day because it’s not good to go without eating. Please at least eat one meal a day. If not for you then for me, please?”

6. Nikki calls you frantically at work one day. “You’ve got to come home now; somebody drugged Tommy’s coffee at Starbucks and he’s pulling a gun on Vince.” You hear frantic, unintelligible noises before Nikki shouts, “Oh shit!” and hangs up the phone. What happened and what do you do?

Well, first of all. I’d kind of get a jolt of panic going through my body and then I’d ask my boss to leave and try to explain to him what I thought happened. If he doesn’t let me go, I’d quit right there and leave. I’d speed my way home and when I burst through the door I see Nikki and Mick restraining a drugged Tommy and Vince standing off to the side holding his arm. “Are you ok Vince?” “Yeah, I think so. The bullet didn’t hit me. It lodged in the wall.” And he’d point to my kitchen wall. I’d then go over to where Nikki and Mick are holding down Tommy. “Let me see him. I can’t tell but it could be a number of substances that they laced in the coffee. Do you still have the cup?” Nikki points to the trash, “He threw it out.” I’d go over grab a plastic bag and use it as a glove to put the cup in and then seal it. “Well, let’s get him to the hospital. And We’ll have to keep an eye on this. The police might want it.”

7. You are visiting the wax museum with a friend when you see the sculptures of Ratt. You pose for a picture between wax Warren and wax Stephen. Just as your friend says, “Smile!”, the sculptures come to life. Warren grabs you around the shoulders and Stephen shouts out. They are the real thing, pulling pranks at the museum. What happens next?

I’d scream first because I don’t do well with being startled and then Id go, “Oh my god. I love you guys! Your music is amazing!” And most likely ask for their autograph.

8. You’re going to Disney with Crue. Everyone is ready except Vince. When he finally comes downstairs, he’s dressed as Princess Aurora. Do you make him change or can he go as is?

“Vince, you look amazing. Are we ready to go?” We’d get there and they’d most likely try to make him change because “Adults aren’t allowed in the park in costume unless it’s Halloween.” So Vince would be disappointed but I’d convince Disney to let him in any way because everyone deserves to be happy at Disney. (That is an actual rule. Kind of a weird rule if you ask me).

9. You’re walking in a field with Kevin one day when he shouts “Aw, no way!” He runs forward and says “Fort!” It’s a partially fallen tree that makes some sort of tunnel. “Come on, let’s see whats inside!” Do you follow him?

“Ok,” And I’d follow him in because it looks cool and I was smart and packed a flashlight.

10. Your car got towed and you need a ride home from work, so you call Warren. He answers the phone, and when you tell him what happens, he asks what you were wearing when the car got towed. “What? It doesn’t matter, my car got towed! I need your help.” “Oh my God, you’re so bad at sexy phone calls.” How do you respond?

“Warren. This is not a sexy phone call. My car really got towed. And now it’s dark and cold and I’m standing under the bridge in the darkly lit park in the middle of the city. Can you PLEASE come pick me up?” “Sure, Are you sure this isn’t a sexy call.” “No, Warren it’s not. Unless you think me in my grease-stained jeans and polo shirt and apron is sexy.” “Hmmm...I don’t know. I’m trying to picture it.” “WARREN!”

11. When you get home from work, you find Kevin and Randy in the backyard laying tarps and broken down boxes down in an odd shape. You go out to investigate, and Randy says excitedly, “We made a real life-sized board game!” What do you do?

“Awesome! Can we play? What game is it?” “It’s that kidy game shoots and ladders. We wanted to do monopoly but we couldn’t make large sized bills.”

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

1) You leave Randy home with your daughter, while you go to the grocery store for an hour or two. When you get back, the house is completely quiet. You go into your daughter’s bedroom to find both Randy and your daughter in her crib, sleeping. Randy begins to stir. What do you do?

2) You and Randy are in the house when you realize you haven’t seen Kevin in a while. “Hey, where’s Kevin?” you ask. “I don’t know.” Randy answers. A little later you go outside and find Kevin on the flagpole. “How did you end up there?” you ask him. “Does it really matter? Will you help me down?” Do you help him down or do you go get Randy?

3) You’re in a record store with Randy and Kevin and you’re looking through the vinyl. At one point you pull out one of their records from the stack. “Hey, look. It’s you guys. I think I might buy it. Might sound better than the real thing.” And you give them a smirk. How do they react?

4) You’re in a deep sleep when all of a sudden you feel someone shaking your arm. “Come on, wake up, we’re going to go on an adventure!” Randy whispers in your ear. You roll over and look at the clock to see that it’s four in the morning. How do you respond?

5) You and Randy are sitting on the couch when something falls off the end table and you lean over to get it before you know it, you’ve rolled off the couch and are on the floor. How does Randy react?

6) You’re sitting with your boyfriend Warren and Roommate Stephen at your Kitchen table. Both you and Warren look at each other and start uncontrollably giggling. “God you two are nauseating,” Stephen says. How do you and Warren react?

7) Randy is standing on your couch with your son in his arms. When you walk in you ask them what they are doing and they both respond, “The floor is Lava!” How do you react?

8) While at work you get a text from Vince, you don’t look at it right away but maybe about thirty minutes later you do and all it says is, “I didn’t even think of doing this until you said I couldn’t so really you’re the one to blame.” What did you tell him he couldn’t do and what do you do once you get the text?

9) You and Warren are laying in bed one night unable to sleep when you ask him, “What’s your biggest fear?” He looks over at you and says, “you.” “Me?!” you ask as you sit up. “I’m scared that one day you’ll look in the mirror and see yourself as I see you. You will realize just how amazing you are and that you deserve better than me. I’m terrified that you’ll leave.” How do you respond?

10) You and Kevin are sitting at the table when he says, “Sorry to disappoint you. But you do not have a ‘mean look’.” “Oh, please. I’m sure I have a mean look. I’m sure it makes people quiver in their boots.” “If by “people” you mean “adorable baby kittens,” then yes. Before they wobble over and lick your face.” You glare at him to which he responds with, “Aw, look at all the kittens coming over! How adorable!” What do you d next?

11) You had to get up for work one day but when you try to get out of bed Randy grabs you and refuses to let go. When you try to move his grip tightens. You soon realize he's still asleep and you know he didn’t go to bed last night until really late because he was working on a song. What do you do?

@osbournebemydaddy , your move.

#tag game #tag war

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arplis · 5 years

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Arplis - News: 15 cozy things for fall you can find at Home Depot

— Our editors review and recommend products to help you buy the stuff you need. If you make a purchase by clicking one of our links, we may earn a small share of the revenue. However, our picks and opinions are independent from USA TODAY’s newsroom and any business incentives. Fall is finally here—and that means the return of football, hearty comfort food, and, most importantly, all the seasonal decorations. But prepping your home for autumn doesn't have to mean pumpkins and scarecrows. Because while those are great, there are other more subtle—and more sophisticated—ways to turn your home into the coziest fall wonderland. To help you add some festive flair, we've rounded up 15 gorgeous pieces of decor from Home Depot's Home Decorators Collection below, from snuggly blankets to fall-inspired furniture. Happy shopping! 1. The coziest throw you can buy Credit: Home Depot A fall night in has never looked (or felt) so good. There are regular throw blankets—and then there are throw blankets like this one that have the softest, snuggliest sherpa lining imaginable. Choose between a classic plaid or a seasonal solid color to toss over your couch or pile up by the foot of your bed. Get the Oversized Plush Sherpa Throw Blanket for $22.47 2. These string lights to hang outside Credit: Home Depot You can even change the color of these LED bulbs to anything from pink to blue. For the most Pinterest-worthy patio this autumn, you'll need a strand of chunky, globe lights—like these from Home Depot which are impact-resistant so they won't shatter easily and can be used indoors or outdoors. Plus, the warm white light they give off (instead of the harsh cool light that many LEDs emit) will add a welcoming vibe to your home. Get the 12-Light 24 ft. Integrated LED String Light for $49.97 3. This overstuffed arm chair Credit: Home Depot Choose the color and fabric that complements your current decor. "This chair is too comfortable," said no one ever. And since fall is the perfect time for curling up by the fireplace, it's also the perfect time to add a plushy accent chair to your living room. This one from Home Depot comes in a variety of touchable textures, too, from velvet to linen to leather. Get the Gordon Brown Leather Arm Chair for $599 4. This organizer that's festive and functional Credit: Home Depot Made from metallic aluminum, this stand is 15 in. tall. Bring a bit of the outside in with this nature-inspired jewelry stand that will spruce up your dresser or side table. Not only does it have multiple branches to hang your necklaces and bracelets on but it also has a handcrafted nest that's made for holding rings and pins. Get the Aluminum Jewelry Tree and Nest Stand for $19.97 5. This quilt to snuggle up with Credit: Home Depot The Binghamton set comes in 4 colors: gray, ivory, steel blue, and chili. We don't know what we love most about this quilt for fall: its cozy warmth, its soft sateen fabric, or the extra texture (and farmhouse feel) it adds to your bedding in a way that a classic comforter doesn't. Another plus? It's heavy enough that you won't get cold at night yet light enough that it's not overbearing on those rare warm days in September. Get the Binghamton 3-Piece Solid Full/Queen Quilt Set for $59.48 6. This luxurious rug to keep your feet warm Credit: Home Depot The multi-colored stripes make this rug very versatile. Hardwood floors are gorgeous—but they aren't exactly foot-friendly in the fall when you wake up on a crisp morning (a.k.a they're freezing!). The solution? This super soft striped rug, which feels amazing on your feet and adds personality to the room. You can also layer multiple rugs in different prints and patterns for a trendy touch. Get the Shoreline Multi 5 ft. x 7 ft. Striped Area Rug for $109 7. This mirror in the season's hottest color Credit: Home Depot You can also get a matching vanity and cabinets in this sage green shade. There's a reason Behr named "Back to Nature" the 2020 color of the year: It's an earthy neutral that helps us reconnect to nature and inspires feelings of calm and harmony in our homes. While you can paint an entire room in the soft green color, you can also incorporate it in more subtle ways like with this framed poplar wood mirror. Get the Shaelyn Framed Wall Mirror for $111.30 8. These spa-worthy towels Credit: Home Depot Wrap yourself up in one of these plush towels when it's cold outside. While some experts argue you should only buy white towels, a neutral gray or khaki is also a timeless color that's perfect for fall. These towels come in all three colors and, because they're made from 100 percent Turkish cotton, are long-lasting, low-linting, and incredibly soft. Get the Turkish Cotton Ultra Soft Bath Towel for $14.87 9. This hook rack to hold fall coats and hats Credit: Home Depot Choose storage that looks as good as it works, like these hooks. Distressed natural wood never fails to make a room feel more homey and cheerful, especially when you're coming in from the cold. So this rack, with its pine wood and brass hooks, is a must-have addition to your entryway (that will also prevent all those coats and scarves from ending up piled on the floor!). Get the Rustic Pine and Distressed Brass Hook Rack for $31.98 10. These moody floral curtains Credit: Home Deport Bonus: These window treatments will keep your home better insulated, too. When it comes to autumn decor colors, think of the leaves outside: deep red and maroon, rust orange, golden yellow. These curtains incorporate all of those fall foliage-inspired hues. And the earth tones combined with the whimsical pattern of leaves, flowers, and vines adds a touch of country charm to even the most modern of rooms. Get the Floral Cottage Light Filtering Window Panel for $19.98 11. This bar stool with an industrial chic vibe Credit: Home Depot You can adjust the height of the stool up to 31 inches. Now that cooler temperatures are here, gone are the days of lounging outside on the deck. Instead, take the party inside—to your kitchen bar, of course—with these on-trend bar stools. The warm wood seat perfectly balances out the more masculine metal accents. Get the Industrial Mansard Adjustable Height Black Bar Stool for $149 12. This ottoman to add extra comfort Credit: Home Depot The Farrow ottoman is available in leather or linen. Is it a coffee table, a spare seat, or a footrest? The correct answer is all three. An ottoman like this tufted one from Home Depot is a great way to incorporate more comfortable seating (perfect for fall parties!) and make your space feel even cozier, especially if it's paired with an equally plush sofa or a soft throw. Get the Farrow Accent Ottoman for $355 13. These natural baskets if you want more storage Credit: Home Depot Each basket measures 10 in. by 11.5 in. Whether you're looking for a place to keep your ever-growing collection of gloves and scarves or whether you need somewhere to stash the summer gear you're no longer using, these decorative baskets will do just that. And they aren't just practical—the hand-woven seagrass adds a warm, natural element that is a must in the fall. Get the Bin Basket (Set of 3) for $68.97 14. This rustic entertainment center that every living room needs Credit: Home Depot The best part? It comes fully assembled. Reclaimed wood adds instant warmth to any space—which is more than welcome on a chilly autumn day. This weathered entertainment center is giving off serious log cabin vibes and would look even better with a few pumpkins or a plaid table runner artfully arranged on top of it. Get the Holbrook Natural Reclaimed Entertainment Center for $699 15. This modern metallic coffee table Credit: Home Depot The glass shelves lend an elegant touch to the table. Metals are very in right now, especially when they're used as an edgy accent piece. Like with this metal-rimmed coffee table from Home Depot, which comes in your choice of three different finishes (aged gold, aged silver, or antique bronze). We're already imagining a few pumpkin candles burning and a hot cup of tea sitting on the top tier... Get the Bella Coffee Table for $179 The product experts at Reviewed have all your shopping needs covered. Follow Reviewed on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram for the latest deals, product reviews, and more. Prices were accurate at the time this article was published but may change over time.

Arplis - News source https://arplis.com/blogs/news/15-cozy-things-for-fall-you-can-find-at-home-depot-1

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lisascreativedesigns · 9 years

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Disney World Decorated For Halloween and Fall

New At Lisa's... https://www.lisascreativedesigns.com/disney-world-decorated-for-halloween-and-fall/

Disney World Decorated For Halloween and Fall

A Look At How Disney Decorates For Halloween and Fall Through The Eyes Of A Crafter and Designer

We are big Disney World fans. My first trip to Disney World was on my honeymoon back in 1994. Just starting out, we were on a tight budget back then and stayed at an Econo Lodge in Kissimmee. We took the motel’s complimentary bus transportation to and from the parks every day for a week and ate at a flea market next door since we had not rented a car.

I immediately fell in love with the magical feeling you get as soon as you walk through the gates of The Magic Kingdom. All of their parks are wonderful with so much to look at and enjoy but The Magic Kingdom has got to be my favorite, plus it has the most rides!

Since then we have had two beautiful children and have taken many trips to Disney World and have created some wonderful memories that will last a lifetime. One of my favorite times to go to Disney is in the Fall when they are all dressed up for Halloween and there is Autumn flavor in the air.

As you walk up to the entrance to the park you are greeted by a fabulous Fall garland that just makes you feel warm, fuzzy and giddy with excitement all at the same time.

Flanking each side of the entrance are two beautiful Fall wreaths adorned with a Micky Mouse pumpkin. Too cute!

These adorable wreaths are found on inside the park as well. This one dresses up this charming lamp post found on Main Street.

If you have never been to The Magic Kingdom, Main Street USA is at the front of the park and leads you straight to the famous Cinderella Castle. Main Street is my favorite part of the park. It has such charm and is full of quaint shops. They decorate Main Street for Halloween as well. I love the little pumpkin “snowman” and the Jack O’Lanterns perched on top of the roofs.

The orange bunting adds a nice touch too.

This delightful Pumpkin Head Scarecrow welcomes visitors as you walk onto Main Street. She looks as though she loves her job.

I just adore how they decorate their shop windows as well. Here’s Minnie dressed and ready to go trick or treating.

Mickey stands in another window ready to grab some sweet treats as well!

The Fall Garden outside of The Liberty Tree Tavern in Liberty Square is beautiful. Liberty Square is also the home of my all time favorite ride, The Haunted Mansion. I could go on this ride all day and never tire of it. I always see something new. If you love antiques you would love this ride too. It is loaded with cool flea market finds. I always think “Wow, what a cool job!” I would have loved to be on the design team that created the Haunted Mansion.

Last year we attended Mickey’s Not-So-Scary Halloween Party and it was great! They hold these parties after hours to ticket holders only. We dressed up in Disney themed costumes that I threw together. They hold a special Halloween parade that is awesome and we all got to go trick or treating in the park. It was a lot of fun and the lines for the rides were pretty short too. In my opinion paying the extra money to attend the party is worth it.

Speaking of treats, check out these sumptuous looking sweets found in one of the many bakeries throughout Disney World. Candied Apples like you’ve never seen before, spooky cupcakes, candy corn cookies and other delectable goodies. I could feel my clothes shrinking just looking at them!

In a few weeks we will be heading to Disney World again just in time to see it decorated for Christmas which is just as magical. We have long since given up staying at Econo Lodges with leaky bath tubs and green pools. Now we always stay at a Disney resort. They offer perks to their guests that you can’t get anywhere else. I will be taking more pictures when we go and sharing them with you when we get back. For those of us whose passion in life is decorating and decor, Disney is one place that don’t disappoint. Hats off to the crafters, decorators and designers that make this place beautiful. How great would it be to have a creative job in one of the most magical places on earth?!

Happy Decorating!

~Lisa

#Decorating Disney World #Disney World Decorated For Autumn #Disney World Decorated For Fall #Disney's Magic Kingdom Halloween #A Day In The Life #Autumn Decorating Ideas #Cottage Decorating #Halloween Decorating Ideas #Holiday Decorating #Travel and Sightseeing

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randoreviews · 7 years

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OTTAWA REFLECTIONS

Let’s reflect. Where is Ottawa? Just past those three stars in the sky and down the rainbow road a ways. No, if you’re going from New England, you have to go through Buffalo. Buffalo will let you know that you shouldn’t be sad to be leaving America. Even if you like a good wing, you can get that anywhere now, with as much blue cheese as you want. Once you’re in Canada, the land flattens out to reveal power lines and stations stretching on for miles and miles. They look like electric scarecrows. If now you get a faint tinge of homesickness, again think of Buffalo. We went in the summertime, in August, but if you go anytime between November and April, this will be a winter oasis. The swirls of wind and snow will almost seem to be carrying your car along. (I know from going to Quebec City many times in the winter... dear old Quebec.) Take heart in the snow: it’s not cold, it’s comforting. Aren’t you warm in your car? But this was August and no rain, and my friend kept talking about how he could see how the rail system was all connected. (He had just read a book about trains and had a fever for talking about it.) Once you get somewhere abroad, even if it’s on the highway in the middle of nowhere Canada, you start to think you see things with a fresh eye. This may in part be due to the fact that we all leave some baggage behind in our home countries, as soon as we cross the border. I was a little homesick. I always think I want to travel across the world, but as soon as I get ten miles from my house I start to think about my friends and my houseplants, etc. It’s quite the dilemma being a person. We’re all just walking question marks. We got to Ottawa (which I’ll point out, is the capital city) at sunset and I immediately thought I had made a mistake in bringing us here. It seemed small and nondescript. It seemed like something that would hardly be a city in the U.S. Well, we would at least have three days to see how boring it was. Sometimes it’s fun to see just how bored you can get. It’s a fun, fully immersive activity. We met our AirBNB host, who, do I even need to tell you, he was Canadian so he was friendly. (Not as many French Canadians in Ottawa, to my knowledge, so they are apt to be more friendly.) He was a male hairdresser and we were staying behind his salon off of a little gated courtyard with a little fountain, and he made haste to introduce us to his wife, I think to prove to us right away that he wasn’t gay, even though he was a hairdresser. (Still could have been gay... and who cares anyway? Be as gay as you want.) The apartment was a sleek little place, what you would expect from a hairdresser. White everything. We turned on the local news and started to drink some beer. Of course we connected to the WiFi and I responded to a couple friends’ texts telling them that I was in Canada, to make it more real for myself. Aren’t you jealous? I’m in Ottawa. How can you travel and not watch the local news? It really puts you there. If they’re having a pumpkin festival the next day on the outskirts of town, or a lumberjack competition, don’t you want to know? Just for your own edification? Thinking about it, we got the beer in Burlington, where me and my friend went to college. So we didn’t go through Buffalo. I made that up, I guess just to talk some shit about Buffalo. (Sorry all you Sabres fans.) And the beer was strong, and before we knew it we were drunk. I was playing songs on my phone. John Coltrane, Bob Marley. Legendary Americans to remind us of home. (Okay, Bob isn’t American but we’ve basically adopted him.) Once a friend asked how I was doing and I never really know, but I told them I could play any song on my phone, so that was at least something. A stones throw from our place was a bar called Atari. I figured they would have some arcade games — not that I would want to play, I just like looking at them. For aesthetic pleasure. You understand. It was a bit of false advertising because they didn’t have any games, but they did serve strong drinks. We sat on the roof and our server (he was definitely gay... and friendly), he sold us on one, two, three drinks. My friend doesn’t drink very much, but will drink if that’s what we’re doing. We became best friends with our server for that hour or so. He told us that Ottawa was okay but that when he graduated college he wanted to move to Toronto. Toronto is like the LA and New York and Miami of Canada all combined. Ottawa isn’t the Washington D.C. It’s more like... Richmond, Virginia, or some place like that. EXCEPT... ... EXCEPT... where the government buildings are it is beau-tee-full. It’s called Parliament Hill and it’s like all of a sudden you’re in London, without all the smog and the congestion and people throwing acid in your face. It’s real chill. And international! Canada’s immigration policy is more lax than Uncle Sam’s, and if you’ve just moved to Canada from, say, Ethiopia, you want to see the capital with your family. You want to go to Parliament Hill and see the Peace Tower, which is like Big Ben, but again, more chill. I saw some high-class pretty women who, maybe this is my bad but I just assumed they were prostitutes and I thought, politicians DO work here! The Hill is on a river, not too far-fetched of a name, the Ottawa River, and it’s a pretty idyllic scene. I live in a suburb, pretty much all white, so really it was just good to see some black and Middle Eastern and Asian people. We paid for those drinks, I mean the following morning we paid for them, and after we got coffee the following morning, which wasn’t quite strong enough to be a silver bullet, my friend went back to the place to rest more and I sojourned around the main market that’s near The Hill. I saw a picture of Obama from when he visited the market a few years back, shaking someone’s hand, and thought to myself, this place is all right. I stood in front of the U.S. Embassy, took a good long gander at it. It’s not a modest building, I’ll say that. It almost looked more like the real seat of power. It has what looks like a steel spine running down the middle, like a combination of Alien and Predator, like it could get up and shoot lasers and eat the rest of the city. It’s probably the only thing in the city that isn’t chill. If we somehow got in a mishap about some stolen poutine, my friend and I, we would seek refuge in this building. Not only are we Americans, our I.D.s would show them... we’re from Massachusetts, basically the birthplace of the country, if not of all civilization. That second night we didn’t do anything besides to tell ourselves we weren’t drinking. And we didn’t. I can’t drink more than once a week. Thankfully my body revolts. Besides that drinking is fun, it’s almost worth drinking to then not drink the next night and just eat and sleep and watch TV, to remind yourself of the good, quiet life. I’m pretty sure I did some stretching that night too, just in the little corner of the kitchen. Made it my little impromptu yoga. Felt so good. We also happened to get the Lions-Patriots preseason game, because we were close enough to Detroit. Home has a way of finding you wherever you are. Now the THIRD day (technically the second DAY we were there)... the third day was the big day. Hangover... gone! The gay bartender was great people but we hadn’t gotten pulled in by him again. The third day late morning we went to the National Gallery. First we stopped in an antique bookstore and I looked at the spines of all these books about traveling to Antarctica and taking a dogsled across the Yukon. Crazy shit, man. How bad does your wife have to be for you to be like, fuck it, I’m traveling to Antarctica! I may not make it back! Was Ernest Shackleton’s wife just one of the worst people in the world? Or was she lovely and Ernest simply had the exploring bug? Something must have been going on there. Then when we went to the National Gallery we saw all these paintings of people in canoes and dogsleds, and houses in winter, and rivers... lots of rivers. Canada, man. You know what’s north of Canada? The North Pole. That’s how far it goes up. Do you know how cold it is in Canada in the winter? Like, everywhere in Canada in the winter? It’s fucking freezing. Do you know what extreme conditions do to people? It makes them make great art. The most famous group of Canadian artists is the Group of Seven. I only really knew Lawren Harris’s work from this group, but the member probably most central to the group, who drowned in a damn lake, is Tom Thomson. Tom Thomson is one of those artists like Van Gogh who, although not nearly as prolific as Vincent, you just fall in love with him right when you see his paintings. Or you fall in love with his work... but isn’t that the same as loving the man? Trees blowing in the wind. Trees standing stalwart way up on the side of a mountain overlooking a lake. Trees in the deep woods next to a river. From the little I know of his death, I got the impression that some folks have tried to make it more of a mystery, possible foul play, but probably he just drowned and it’s their way of making him more of a legend. I have to get a hamster or something and name him Tom Thomson. Such a strong name. Anyone who knows me knows I’m an art and museum lover, and less the sports bar kind of guy, but you reach a point in a museum where you say, no more, please. Please! You’ll bring the Mona Lisa to me personally right now and I can look at it close up with no one else around? I’ll punch a hole in that bitch’s face. My point is you reach a saturation point. If you don’t reach a saturation point, that means you haven’t been absorbing anything, which probably means you’re a robot. We retired to the AirBNB to sit and look at our phones and stare at the wall and not look at any art of any kind. We then went to a medicinal shop and imbibed some medicine, allowed by the government, and then the art could really blend and distill in me. We walked around The Hill and, jeez, it was one of the most beautiful late afternoons I’ve ever seen. Sun shining, the sunlight twinkling off the water. Real magical travel shit. We walked down by the river and canal and inspected the lock system. My friend has a very curious mind. Maybe in his next life he’ll be an engineer. The big boxing match happened to be the last night we were there, and we went to a pub beforehand and the female bartender sold me on a place to go to. At first I thought she was just being nice to me because maybe she liked me, and then about eight seconds in I was like, nope, she’s selling me on something. I could die in a fiery car crash in a ravine and she would sprinkle down advertising cards to her friend’s club on my dead body. Come to think of it, I’ve never met a female bartender who you could describe as, Oh, she seemed shy and genuine. I get it because they have to deal with so many people, so many assholes, so they have their shtick and their guard up, but it’s never a good feeling when someone treats you like an easy mark. To further perfectly emphasize my relationship with women (not that I was interested in her), we ended up going to her friend’s club, because I told her I would go and I stupidly stupidly have integrity or whatever when it comes to that stuff, and it was at full capacity. A woman who I didn’t even like who I was just trying to be nice to swindled and sold me on something that I was then shut out of. Kind of wish I was a politician so I could just fuck high-class prostitutes and not care. But then do you even have a soul at all? Could you appreciate the Tom Thomson paintings? It’s funny, I have no idea what we ate for breakfast the next morning before we left. Totally gone from my mind. (I am writing this on my phone on a red eye at about three in the morning.) It wasn’t a crepe, I would have remembered a crepe. It wasn’t chicken wings, I don’t eat too many of those. I’m desperate to remember in part because I’m hungry right now. Maybe a chocolate croissant? Chocolate croissant is my best guess. Always my best guess. As we got close to the border and our phones really started working again, we picked up the baggage again that we had sort of kind of left for a few days, back to our regularly-scheduled lives, but with the sunlight flickering on the water in our minds in the late afternoon sun.

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