#they were saying by the time we get out of work the windchill is gonna have it feelin like.-40some °F

[toytulini]

when its -13°F w a windchill realfeel of like-36°F

[jaxteller87]

Snow day

So, there we were, New York City covered in a thick blanket of snow, enough to bring the whole damn city to a standstill. Schools, work—everything shut down tight, and it looked like it would stay that way for a day or two. I was used to the powdery white stuff, but it was Jax’s first time experiencing a significant snowfall.

I couldn’t help but smile when I overheard Jax on the phone with his mom. I had just gotten out of the shower and heard him ask what the temperature was back in Charming.

“Eighty-two degrees?” he scoffed, “Try negative three, Mom. But it’s like— it’s like uh—hold on a minute,” he put his hand over the receiver of the phone. “Hey Amber!” he shouted.

“Yeah?” I casually called out from the bathroom as if I wasn’t listening in on the whole conversation.

“How cold is it with the windchill thing?”

“Negative twenty today, and it’s supposed to be even colder tonight,” I told him.

After he got off the phone, we went to the store to make sure we had enough supplies to ride out the storm. The funniest thing, though, was that Jax had a hard time wrapping his head around the way people were acting like it was the end of the world. But for me, it was just another day of winter in the frigid northeast.

“Are you kidding me?” Jax muttered under his breath.

I glanced at him nervously, knowing what was coming next. “Babe, it’s not a big deal.”

“Hey, lady,” he barked, causing her to jump and drop an armful of bread. “You do realize it’s just a little snow, right? You’re not preparing for the apocalypse! How many loaves do you need?”

The woman stared at him wide-eyed, clutching one remaining loaf to her chest like a shield. “I—I—”

“I what?” Jax bent down, picked up two of the other eight loaves she was hoarding, and handed them to her. “Save some for everyone, huh?”

“But— but the weatherman said it’s gonna be a blizzard!” she stammered.

Jax rolled his eyes dramatically. “So, take an entire shelf worth of bread for a day or two of snow? Trust me, lady,  you don’t need to buy out the entire store.”

He wasn’t wrong, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing. I grabbed his hand and led us to a different aisle. Needless to say, we got what we needed, and we left before Jax went all quantity police on someone I might have known.

When we got home, the temperature was already starting to drop a little. “What the hell are you doing?” Jax barked as I cracked open the backdoor. “It’s colder than a witch’s tit out here, get your ass back inside.” He’d brought home a blowtorch from home, determined to melt away the ice so I wouldn’t slip and break something. We had salt for that here, but I didn’t tell him. He always had to help me; it was his thing. Besides, I didn’t have the heart to tell him he looked like an idiot down on his hands and knees, torching the frozen sidewalk. He was definitely acting like someone who never experienced snow before. So, I did the only thing that seemed right to do at that moment: I hit him in the side of the face with a snowball.

“Oh, it’s on now,” he chuckled, retaliating with a flurry of snowballs. And just like that, we were caught up in a full-blown snowball fight, laughing like a couple of damn kids. It was something we never got to do in Charming. It was one of those memories you wouldn’t think would amount to much, but yet, years later, you look back on it fondly.

After a while, I got out of my wheelchair and flopped down in the snow. In a few seconds, I had created a perfect angel. Jax sat down beside me and seemed to appreciate my artwork. “Nice,” he laughed.

“Hey, what are you laughing at?” I asked.

“You,” he chuckled, “I’m laughing at—”

POP!

I hit him in the face with the handful of snow I had been clutching between my fingers since I got out of the chair. “Got ya!”

“You son of a—”

POP!

“HA!” my laugh cracked so loudly I heard it bounce off the walls of the house. “Got ya again! Sorry to say, Teller, I’m the queen of the snow around these parts, and there’s nothing—”

POP! POP!

I took two snowballs to the dome, one in my right temple and the other square in the center of my face. Before I knew it, we were wrestling in the powdery white stuff- our joined laughter echoing through the frosty air.

After our little impromptu snowball battle, we changed out of our gear and snuggled up on the living room floor, wrapped in each other’s arms. “So, I was thinking—” I started to say, but something came over me, and I suddenly felt nervous.

 “What,” Jax asked, “Tell me?”

I blushed, feeling his hands skimming down my sides, teasingly preparing to tickle me. With a raised eyebrow, he awaited my response. “Okay, okay, just don’t make too much of me— please,” I giggled at the sheer concept of being brought to laughter by his fingers.

“Pinkie promise,” Jax smiled, extending his finger as a token of his word.

 “So, this was always a fantasy of mine— having sex while it’s snowing in front of the fireplace. Even though that’s a fake one,” I admitted, looking at the small heater.

Jax pulled me closer into his arms. “Well, what do you know! That’s a fantasy of mine, too,” he laughed, squeezing me tightly. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Since when?”

“Since you proposed that we have sex right here in front of the fireplace,” he smirked.

“Space heater,” I corrected him.

“Same thing.”

“Is it, though?”

“Sure. The point is, I’m not going to let what the heater wants to identify as ruin our sexy time. Fireplace, heater, campfire, whatever— you had me at sex.”

I rolled my eyes, “Big surprise there,” I joked.

“Aw, come on, I’m just messing with you. This whole experience has been nice, really,” he whispered against my neck. I could feel his lips brushing against my skin. “Like I always tell you, I don’t care what we do or where we go as long as I’m with you.” His whispered words sent shivers down my spine, “So?”

“So what?” I asked. 

“Space heater sex?” He had his begging eyes on. It was a fantasy of mine, after all.

“Well, if you’d look under the blanket, you’d notice my pants are already off. So, waiting on you, big Papa.”

The next day, Jax and I lounged lazily at home. An unexpected call from Mary broke the tranquility but was a very welcome surprise. “Hello, my dear,” she said. “I was just calling to see if you and the badass biker wanted to have dinner with me tonight.”

“Dinner?” Jax perked up, overhearing her.

“I was thinking tacos?” Mary continued.

“We’re in,” Jax whispered to me with a series of nods before sitting back on the couch.

“We’d love to; the roads are clear now,” I responded.

“Perfect! See you around 5,” Mary said.

“We’ll be there!” I hung up the phone, and the two of us got ready.

Later, as we found ourselves in her living room, my loving boyfriend engaged in conversation with Mary. “Hey, that’s a new painting,” I remarked, admiring the delicate strokes of purple and black butterflies surrounding the vibrantly colored flowerbeds.

“Yeah, I saw it the other week; thought it was cute, so I bought it,” Mary explained.

 “So, Teller, how are you liking your first real snow?” Mary crossed her legs and sat back on her chair.

“It’s been an experience, I guess I can say that at least,” he responded. There was nothing I loved more than watching my two besties bonding.

Later, back at home, as we snuggled on the sofa, Teller disappeared momentarily, only to return with a small gift. “Here,” he smiled, handing me a metal rose. “I’ll love you until it weathers away,” he told me with a twinkle in his eye.

“Oh, baby,” I smiled. 

“I wanted it to be your single rose for Valentine’s Day, but it wasn’t done in time.”

“Oh, thank you, sweetheart. I love it, and I love you!”  I was brimming with joy from ear to ear. I reached up, and when he bent down to me, I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him like it was our last hug ever. I sat the metal rose next to the real one he had given me a few days ago.

“The cool thing about that one is you don’t need to water it,” he joked. He always had a way of making me laugh.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

An imagine for adeuce please! They hang out someplace in their hometown during vacation but awkwardly run into crewel. I think treys family bakery would be a nice location but the setting is your choice in case you want to limit the dialogue and number of characters

Ps. I personally feel like the game needs more interactions between the students and teachers. Hopefully we can get more in the new event

Teacher-student interactions are so much fun! We definitely got more from Vargas Camp (which I’m really thankful for), and I hope we keep getting more!

So far, my favorite teacher-student dynamic has been Vargas and Azul. I’d feel bad for octoboi if I wasn’t laughing so hard at his flying fails--

I really liked this prompt, so I wrote more than my usual ~1000 word imagine; please enjoy!

***Mild spoilers for chapter 4!***

Imagine this...

The Rose Kingdom was aptly named for the flowers that bloomed in nearly every corner of its land. In the summer time, they blossomed magnificently, perfuming the warm air with their heady aroma—but in the winter, those delicate rosebuds were banished by a spell of frost. Without fail, a great cold would wash over the region every year, casting their famous red flowers in a thick layer of white.

It was a pattern that the kingdom’s residents had long since grown accustomed to. This was, after all, their beloved home—amid the roses, frozen as they were.

“Oi, Deuce! Hurry it up, will you?!” Ace called, tossing an annoyed glance over his shoulder.

His friend—wearing so many layers that he resembled a moving blueberry more than a human—lagged several paces behind.

Deuce attempted to return the sass, but his words caught in the scarf bound tightly around his mouth, coming out muffled instead. The puffball on his winter hat furiously bobbed up and down, as though communicating his frustration for him.

“If we don’t pick up the pace, they’re gonna sell out of hot chocolate and fresh pastries!” Ace rushed back, grabbed Deuce by the arm, and tugged. “C’mon!! I thought you were in Track and Field Club or something—so let’s get moving!”

Deuce loosened his scarf with his free hand and, glaring at Ace, declared, “No way am I running with the roads this icy. That’s a recipe for disaster.”

“Hah? You serious? I already got wasted enough time waiting for you to dress in your 101 layers of coats,” Ace grumped, gesturing to Deuce’s ridiculous outfit. “It can’t hurt to be a little quicker about it.”

“Mom wanted me to stay warm,” Deuce countered stiffly. “I’m gonna respect that, no matter what.”

Ace rolled his eyes and waves dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, whatever—enough talk, we really gotta get going...!! I’ll be damned if I freeze out here.”

“The Clover Bakery isn’t that far from here, so we don’t need to rush.” Deuce indicated a warm building at the end of the block, which gave off delicious fumes—spun sugar, baked bread, and spices. “Slow and steady wins the race.”

Ace groaned loudly. At this rate, it would take all day for them to waddle on over. He was about to bury his head in his hands when an idea dawned on him.

A mean, but clever, idea.

“Betcha I could make it there faster than you,” Ace chirped, his voice casual.

“It’s not a competition,” Deuce reminded him sternly.

“No one said it was, dummy! I’m just saying I could definitely beat you at your own game.”

“Tough words for someone shaking like a leaf in the cold.”

“Oh yeah?” Ace’s grin was wicked. “Prove me wrong, then.”

“I don’’t have to prove anything. It’d be dangerous to run in this weather, anyway.”

“I bet it’s way more snowy in Pyroxene—and Jack’s probably totally fine with running through it!”

“That’s Jack, and this is me. I said I wasn’t going to rush things, and I meant it.”

“Yeah? Too bad~” The redhead gave an exaggerated sigh and a shrug. “Backing out, huh...? Oh well. Guess if you snooze, you lose...!!”

“Hey, I never said...” Deuce’s voice trailed off, for Ace had shoved by him, darting off in the direction of the bakery. “H-Hey...!! Ace...!! ACE!! GET BACK HERE!!”

He tore after his friend, shouting at him all the while—and Ace, with his (cheating) head start, only laughed in return. Deuce soon caught up (no thanks to his club conditioning), and they were neck-and-neck for first place.

Windchill, knives upon their faces. The biting cold seeped into their lungs, making it hurt to breathe as they hurtled toward their destination. Yet they sailed on, determined to outdo the other.

Both boys launched themselves at the bakery entrance, grasping the handle at the same time.

“EXCUSE US!!” Ace and Deuce yelled in unison, yanking open the door (struggling to cram through the doorway at the same time) and stumbling in.

They were greeted by a blast of warmth and the smells of sweet cakes and toasted breads. The employee manning the counter glanced up, startled at the duo’s sudden appearance. When he saw who it was that had barged in, he sighed and calmly readjusted his glasses.

He looked a little different than usual, wearing a white shirt with green plaid that showed off his broad shoulders. The sleeves were rolled up to reveal thick forearms forged from years of lifting flour sacks and kneading dough. A brown apron was slung over his attire, four-leafed clovers sewn on the pockets.

“If it isn’t Ace and Deuce. How are the two troublemakers of Heartslabyul doing?” Trey asked, his smile lopsided as his underclassmen approached.

“A-Are we really troublemakers in your eyes, Clover-senpai?!”

“I’m just kidding,” he reassured Deuce. “Well, you are troublemakers, but more for Riddle than for me.”

“Geez... thanks for the vote of confidence...” Ace grumbled, casting the third year a cheeky look. “Some senpai you are, huh?”

“Now, now... I’m allowed to have some fun, aren’t I? We’re all ‘off-duty’, so to speak.” Trey said light heartedly. “Anyway, what brings you guys to the Clover Bakery? I’m assuming you’re not dropping by just to say hello.”

“Hehe. Obviously we’re hungry, so we came by for some grub!” Ace held up his index finger. “One large hot chocolate, and a plate of assorted butter cookies for me!”

“I’m okay with a small spiced apple cider,” Deuce chimed in, “please and thank you.”

“Gotcha. I’ll get you your drinks in a bit,” Trey nodded, “but as for the butter cookies, I’m afraid I won’t be able to sell those to you.”

“Huh?” Ace’s face collapsed. “Why not?”

“We’ve only got a few dozen left, and they’re reserved for a client that preordered them. Sorry.” Trey pointed to a neatly wrapped box already set upon the counter, done up in a bright green bow.

Through the plastic window in the box, Ace could see that the cookies had been converted into little sandwiches. Each pair housed a generous dollop of cream, caramelized raisins threaded throughout it.

“What? Who needs that many butter cookies? And why are there gross raisins in them--“

The door to the bakery flung open, summoning a gale of cold once more. A bell suspended above jingled, ringing in a new customer.

“Ah, speak of deville the devil,” Trey said—while his underclassmen balked in terror.

There, in the doorway, was a tall man in black faux leather gloves and a voluminous fur coat—striped, black and white. Beneath that, he boasted a crimson turtle neck and a blazer, half solid white, the other half a black , checkerboard pattern. This, paired with his slicked back hair, steely eyes, and regal face, made him appear as though he had just strutted off the runway, were it not for the leashes he gripped.

Two Dalmatians—one in a blue coat, the other in a red one—stood alert by his feet. They caught Ace and Deuce’s eyes and barked in greeting, but the two boys were far too fixated on the Dalmatians’ owner to gush over dogs.

“Crewel...”

“... Sensei?”

Ace and Deuce glanced to one another, then back at their Alchemy teacher.

“C-CREWEL-SENSEI?!”

“Wh-What’re you doing here?!” Ace demanded, pointing an accusatory finger. “School’s out for winter break...!! You... You didn’t hunt us down to make us do our homework, did you?!”

Crewel snorted. “Spare me your theatrics, Trappola. Your instructors are granted a vacation for the duration of winter break as well. Were you not aware?”

“I-I knew that! I just didn’t know you lived in the Rose Kingdom, too!”

“I thought teachers lived at school...”

“... Seriously, Deuce?!”

“The more you know.” Crewel narrowed his eyes at Ace. “But speaking of homework, I trust you pups are keeping on top of your assignments? Being on break is no excuse to slack on your studies.”

“D-Duh! Of course I haven’t been slacking!” A lie, Ace grimaced, thinking to the piles of homework he had abandoned in his bedroom in favor of hanging out with friends. Whatever, he could just pester his brother for help later. “Right, Deuce? Back me up here!”

“I’ve been diligently studying and working on my homework bit by bit every day, Crewel-sensei!”

“... But have you done it accurately?” Crewel asked, raising an eyebrow. “Simply writing down an answer does not guarantee full marks, Spade.”

“... Errrrrr, okay, maybe I need to work on it a little more.”

“You’ve got your notes and a reliable Science Club member to count on for assistance,” Crewel quipped, gesturing to Trey with a gloved hand. “There is no excuse for why you should not do well. That goes for you as well, Trappola.”

“Y-Yessir!”

“Crewel-sensei, I think that’s enough interrogation,” Trey called, waving for him to come to the counter. Outwardly, he wore a smile, but inwardly, he sighed. For the love of the Great Seven, don’t offer my help for me. “Here, I have your order prepared--oh, but be sure to keep your dogs at the doorway. No pets allowed beyond a certain threshold for health and safety reasons.”

“I am aware, yes.” Crewel’s eyes passed over to the two scared stiff underclassmen. “... Trappola, Spade--come here. Do your professor a favor and tend to my Dalmatians for me.”

“What? You want us to watch your dogs?”

“I’ll do my best, Sensei!!”

“Don’t just blindly agree to it, Deuce!”

“It will only be for a moment,” Crewel insisted, shoving his leashes into Ace and Deuce’s hands. The boys fumbled, but held firm--the Dalmatians eagerly staring up at them.

“... Oi, don’t give me those looks,” Ace grumbled. “You’re... You’re too cute looking and innocent to be Crewel-sensei’s pets.”

The dog in the red coat gave a happy bark, as if pleased with the compliment. Its partner, in the blue coat, panted with delight as Deuce gave it a firm head pat.

Crewel received the box of raisin butter cookies--but allowed his eyes to quickly a scan the glass display case as he strode up. “Do you have dog treats in stock as well?”

“We do.”

“Then add two to my total, please--peanut butter flavor.”

“Alright, you’ve got it.” Trey ducked, retrieved a pair of tongs, and fished out two bone-shaped biscuits. He dropped them into a paper bag and handed them over to his teacher. “That’ll be--”

He was cut off by several bills being fanned out on the counter.

“I’ve ordered enough from your bakery to know the general prices,” Crewel smirked, tucking his wallet away into his massive fur coat. “If there is a discrepancy, you may keep the change.”

“Ah, thanks for that. Hope you and the dogs enjoy--” Trey paused, cut off this time by the sound of several small footsteps from the back room of the bakery. He groaned, already knowing what was coming. “Oh no...”

“Trey-nii!!” A chorus of high-pitched voices piped up, startling Ace and Deuce. “We heard bark-barks!! Did Mr. Fluffy Coat bring back his doggies?”

Three heads of green hair poked above the counter--just barely. One girl and two boys, probably elementary school age, all of them sharing Trey’s mustard yellow eyes.

“Guys, not now. Big bro’s busy with the customers,” Trey warned. He passed an apologetic look to his underclassmen and teacher. “Sorry, my siblings are excitable sometimes.”

“I wanna pet the doggies!”

“I wanna feed’m snackies!”

“I wanna dress them up!”

To the boys’ surprise, Crewel merely chuckled. “No worries. Fellow canine lovers are always welcome.”

“Mr. Fluffy Coat!! Can we feed your doggies?”

“Pretty please with candied violets on top!”

“Please, please, please!!”

Crewel barked with laughter. “Perhaps I can allow it, little ones--permitted that your brother grants his permission.”

All three Clover siblings looked expectantly at their eldest sibling.

Trey heaved a sigh. “... I guess I’ve got no choice. Go ahead.”

Excited squeals filled the interior of the bakery. The Clover siblings nearly tripped over themselves racing over to Crewel’s dogs (they nearly trampled Ace and Deuce’s feet, too).

“Hey, watch it! We’re the ones babysitting these dogs, not you!” Ace cried as the kids descended on the Dalmatians. I’ve only had these dogs for five minutes but if anything happened to them, I’d kill everyone here and then--

“We can share, Ace!”

“Spade is correct. There is plenty of the pups to go around,” Crewel interjected. He produced two dog treats and broke them into smaller pieces, offering them to Ace, Deuce, and the Clover siblings. “Go on, then. One for each of you to feed them.”

The Clovers cheered and eagerly claimed their pieces, holding them out and allowing each Dalmatian to sniff and lick the treats straight out of their palms. As soon as the food was slurped up, the Clovers proceeded to vigorously pet the pups. But the first years hesitated.

“You’re... being awfully nice,” Ace noted, eying him suspiciously. “Are you gonna spring a pop quiz on us as soon as I take the treat?”

“Keep biting the hand that feeds you, and I just might consider it,” Crewel warned with a dark smirk.

“W-We’ll take the treats!” Deuce snatched up two pieces, shoving one into Ace’s hands. “Come on, let’s not worry too much. We’re on winter break, after all. Let’s just relax while we still can.”

“You’re right, you’re right! Let’s not sweat it!”

They exchanged a brief laugh before kneeling and offering up their own dog treat pieces to the Dalmatians. Just as the dogs’ sloppy, wet tongues connected with the boys’ hands, their cell phones went off.

“... Huh? Did you just get a text, Deuce?”

“I think I did. I heard your phone ping too, though. Did you get a text too?”

“I can check. One sec...” With his free hand, Ace fished his phone out of his coat pocket and consulted it. He immediately paled. “Oh, shit.”

(“Hey, language!” Trey shouted--but his protest seemingly went ignored.)

“What’s wrong?” Deuce asked, frowning.

“Check your phone. Check it right now.”

“Is it something seri...” Deuce’s face dropped as soon as he looked at his messages. “Fuck.”

(“I said, language!” Trey tried again, only to be snubbed a second time.)

The distressing text they had received?

SOS SEND HE LP STRAND ED D IN SCAR ABIA CANT GET OUT - Yuu, Grim

Ace and Deuce abruptly stood and bolted toward the exit, much to everyone’s surprise. They paid no mind to the concerned shouts of Trey, nor Crewel, or to the excited barks of Dalmatians no longer held by leashes.

All that remained of where the duo once stood were soggy, half-finished peanut butter dog treats.

[emsemotional]

out of line

Okay so this is a little baby one shot  based on my mental health advocate!mickey headcanon that I posted a little while back. I used to write a lot for various fandoms back in high school, but it’s been a while since I’ve written anything, and even longer since I’ve shared anything I’ve written with anyone other than @lewslew, so please be nice- I definitely have some room to grow with characterization and timing. 

This is taking place post-finale, so I’ve taken some liberties regarding what everyone ends up doing after the series. In my mind, Mickey and Ian buy the Gallagher house themselves, because they’re Southside boys at heart and they need a backyard for their dog (duh). But they’re waiting on their Westside lease to end, so Lip, Tami and Liam are staying in the house while Lip and Debbie fix it up and renovate a little (you can find my whole hc on what everyone’s up to post-series here). I was talking to @iansfreckles a while back about a possible Gallagher/Tamietti family dinner- I’m so interested in how this would go and how the families’ dynamics would interact. SO, this takes place at said Gallagher/Tamietti family cookout, right as Lip and Tami are moving out of the house, and Ian and Mickey are moving in. Cami and Brad’s kids are with Aunt Oopie, I dunno I didn’t want to write them haha. 

Content warning: ignorant/rude comments about individuals with mental illnesses and language akin to that of the show

-

Tami had almost said no when Cory asked to bring her new boyfriend to the Gallagher house. Between the Gallagher and Tamietti families, there were going to be plenty of big personalities under one roof, as is. But Cory had actually asked this time, and she had just babysat Fred during a last minute highlight appointment. Tami had reluctantly agreed and her sister had seemed so happy that she almost forgot her hesitation. 

Looking back, Tami’s decision was questionable. Lip had been able to prepare his family for the rest of the Tamietti’s, explaining the family dynamics and topics to avoid. Chad was a wildcard.

He had burst through the front door laughing loudly beside Brad and Cami, who didn’t seem to think the joke was as funny as Chad did. Cory and Bob followed them in, annoyance clear on Bob’s face. Tami and Lip moved to the door to greet their visitors, Tami depositing Fred in Carl’s lap, where he was sitting on the couch. Carl immediately grabbed the toddler under his arms, grinning at him and lifting him up above his head, making propellor noises on his way down. 

This, this is what Tami had wanted her family to see. The Tamiettis had made it clear that while they tolerated Lip, they thought Tami could do better. They thought he was ill equipped to help raise a family, constantly doubting his ability to provide, and his dedication to his family. Tami had tried to explain Lip’s role in his own family- the patriarch of the Gallagher home, a man who had been taking care of people for his entire life. Perhaps the only way for the other Tamiettis to see the value in the Gallagher side of Fred’s family, was to observe it first hand.

Lip made it to the Tamiettis first, shaking Bob’s hand and taking the handful of bags and jackets that were thrust into his arms. 

“No show Brad!” Tami cheered, hugging her sisters, “You made it!” 

Brad rolled his eyes, lightly clapping Tami on the shoulder, “Yeah, yeah, I’m here.”

Cory turned towards her sister, a wide smile on her face, “Tam, this is Chad, the guy I was telling you about?” 

Tami turned to shake his hand, finally giving him a good look. Truth be told, he looked like every other guy Cory had seriously dated- some tall, brunette, conventionally attractive, straight laced kind of guy. He didn’t seem any different from the other business majors, fraternity boys and bar bouncers that Cory had intruded her to. 

“Tami right? So great to meet you, thanks for inviting me!” 

“Of course, nice to meet you too! Come on in, you guys!” 

The Tamiettis settled into the living room, Cami choosing the seat next to Carl, cooing down to Fred, “There’s my favorite nephew! How are you sweet boy?” 

She ran a gentle hand across Fred’s head before introducing herself to Carl, “I’m Cami, Tami’s sister.” Carl swallowed a smirk at the rhyming names, nodding, “Carl, Lip’s brother.”

“Ah, the one buying the house?” 

“Nah, that’s Ian and Mickey, they’re upstairs somewhere. I’m the cop,” Carl stated proudly.

“Fuck the police!” Mickey’s voice called into the living room in response, as a flash of red and black hair came tumbling down the stairs. All the Tamiettis turned to watch Mickey jog through the living room with Franny on his shoulders, Ian chasing after them. 

“Get him Uncle Mickey!” Franny squealed, “He’s gonna catch us!”

“I’m a little busy running, kid. Hit ‘em or somethin’,” Mickey grunted, scrambling to hand his niece a rubber ball previously balanced on the back of the couch. 

Franny wound up her arm, tossing the ball at Ian’s head with all her six year old might, “Take that, Uncle Ian! You’re dead!”

Ian groaned dramatically, clutching his face and sliding onto the ground. He let out a theatrical sign and closed his eyes, finally defeated. 

Franny cheered as Mickey lifted her off his shoulders, “We did it! We killed him!” Franny dropped down to the ground to check that Ian had accepted his defeat, poking him in the back with the toe of her shoe.

Mickey gave her a crinkly grin, the kind he reserved for Franny and Ian alone- unguarded and childlike. “Sure did! Pretty badass if you ask me.” 

Ian got to his feet, tickling Franny’s stomach as he addressed the room, “Hey, sorry we were in the middle of… a game.” 

“Liquor store robbery!” Franny cheerfully announced. 

 Franny began introducing herself to the unfamiliar faces, sharing that she was in the first grade, enjoyed playing with guns, and wanted to be a welder like her mommy when she grew up. As Liam and Debbie descended the stairs, and the rest of the Gallaghers and Tamiettis introduced themselves, Tami marveled at how smoothly things seemed to be going. No one was yelling, or aggressively drunk, or making a thinly veiled classist comment- yet. 

The two families quickly settled into a comfortable chatter of introductions and the conversation, surprisingly, continued to flow without a hitch. They soon made their way outside, where Debbie and Bob chatted while manning the grill. The other family members scattered across the yard- Liam sat in a lawn chair typing on a laptop, occasionally asking Lip for grammar advice. Ian, in the middle of telling some wild story from his EMT days, was fully emerged in conversation with the rest of the Tamietti family while Mickey and Carl considered how many crimes Carl could theoretically arrest him for, arguing over how many years Mickey would have to serve. 

Everything was great- until Chad decided to open his mouth. They had finished dinner and were crammed into the living room, escaping the Chicago windchill. Chad was sharing one of his own work stories from the construction site he worked on, describing a man who had wandered onto the site and started yelling at Chad and some of his coworkers that week.

“Totally off his rocker,” Chad commented, “He kept telling us about how we were tearing down his house, and that he didn’t give us permission to do this. Just screaming at us, swearing, and he wouldn’t listen when we kept telling him that he trespassing, y’know? Just super crazy- needed a fucking Xanax or something.” 

Ian tensed, fiddling with the ring on his left hand while the other Gallaghers exchanged pointed glances. Tami began to interrupt, clearly in attempt to change the subject, but Chad continued. 

“The next day,” he explained, “the very next day, he came up to us and was asking to bum a smoke, like he didn’t fucking flip his crazy ass on us yesterday, I swear he must’ve been like bipolar or something, acting like we were old pals. Must’ve gotten carted off or killed or something, haven’t seen him since.” 

While the Tamiettis offered a polite chuckle, the Gallaghers remained silent. 

Mickey, who had been sitting on the couch next to Ian, looked up from his folded hands. “So you got something against bipolar people? It’s a fucking mental illness man.” 

Chad smiled, backtracking, “Hey, nah, calm down. He’s just some crazy homeless dude, who cares?” 

“He’s not just some crazy guy, he’s a person with a disease, the fuck’s wrong with you?” Mickey asked. 

Ian placed a hand on his husband’s shoulder shaking his head. “Mick, it’s fine. It doesn’t matter.”

Eyebrows raised comically high, Mickey stood and crossed his arms. “Um, fuck that, it does matter! You’re not a fucking punchline Ian. This is our house, yours and mine, and no one’s going to be talking like that in my house. Obviously no one else is going to say something, and you shouldn’t have to, so I will. I won’t stand for that shit.”

The Tamiettis exchanged horrified looks as the Gallaghers mostly just looked at the floor. Finally Lip spoke up from where he was standing by the TV, “Mental health is uh… a sensitive subject around here. We just… we take it seriously, y’know? First hand experiences and shit.” 

Cory opened her mouth to speak but she quickly stopped when she saw Tami swiftly shake her head in her direction, suggesting she stay out of it. 

Mickey lightly rubbed his eyebrow, “Yo, douchebag, apologize or get the hell out of my house.”

Chad raised his hands in surrender, “I didn’t realize it was such a big deal man, sorry.”

Mickey rolled his eyes with a huff, turning on his heel to walk towards the back of the house. Wordlessly, Ian followed him out the back door, leaving the living room in a heavy silence.

After a moment, Chad breaks the silence, “Look, I really didn’t mean to start something, I was just telling a story. Should I go out and apologize again, try to talk about it?”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Liam replied, “You should give Mickey some time to cool off.” 

“Yeah,” Lip agreed, “I wouldn’t follow them out. Mickey… he gets protective? Always has been, of Ian. Our mom was bipolar, and so’s Ian. He’s stable, doing great, but he’s, uh, he’s been through a lot. It’s just not good joke material around here.”

Chad nodded, silence overtaking the room again. Franny looked up from her coloring book, clearly bored with the turn the night had taken.

“I’m gonna go play with Uncle Mickey and cheer him up!” 

Debbie chuckled from her seat across the room, “Yeah, go bring them some beers Franny.” 

“Okay!” Franny chirped, hopping to her feet and skipping into the kitchen. Debbie gave a soft smile as she watched her daughter, on the way to hang out with her favorite uncles. 

-

From his seat on the back stairs, Ian watched Mickey pace through the yard, grumbling about “Fucking Northside yuppies… and their ignorant bigoted asses… what the fuck is wrong with people?” He glanced over at Ian, his expression softening when he noticed the defeated look on Ian’s face. Mickey paused his pacing, coming to sit next to Ian on the steps. 

“I’m sorry, I know I prolly embarrassed you. Was I out of line man? I just got so fucking mad,” Mickey quietly mumbled, looking down at his hands in his lap. 

Ian gently shook his head, “Don’t apologize. You weren’t out of line… I think I’m just disappointed, y’know? That comments like that still get to me? I should be over it by now, every reminder that I’m sick or different shouldn’t still sting like that. And why do I have to be the one that the conflict and the drama revolves around? Why not fucking Carl or Liam or god… anyone else just for once?

Mickey’s expression softened even further. He nudged his knee into Ian’s leg, “What’s that shit you told me when Terry died? Trauma doesn’t always make fucking sense and recovery isn’t… oh shit, what’s the word? Linear! Recovery isn’t linear. Doesn’t make you fucking weak, just means you’ve been through some shit.”

“Yeah. I guess it was easier to tell you that than it is to tell myself.” 

Mickey hummed in agreement and the two sat in silence for a moment before the back door creaked open. A tiny red head shoved her way through the doorway, arms wrapped tightly around two bottles, frosty with condensation. Franny sat down on the steps between them, silently handing her uncles their beers. Ian accepted his with a dry chuckle, thanking her. Mickey ruffled her hair, offering a small smile. The voices from inside had faded and the night was relatively calm, other than the occasional siren or dog barking. 

Franny, not looking particularly concerned, looked up at them to ask, “Uncle Mickey, why’d you get mad at that guy?”

Mickey rubbed at his eyebrow and let out a sigh. He looked towards Ian, a silent request for him to take the lead on this conversation. He was confident in his ability to discuss the stupidity of princesses or the importance of wearing gloves during a legitimate liquor store robbery with his niece. He knew how to play, and joke, and how to be there when she woke up from a bad dream, stumbling down the stairs with bedhead and snotty tears. Mickey had grown into his role as an uncle, but he still doubted his ability to talk about the tough stuff with anyone other than Ian. 

Ian cleared his throat, taking a second before asking, “Franny, do you know what it means to make a joke at someone else’s expense?” 

Franny’s eyebrows scrunched together and she shook her head. 

“It’s when you make a joke to kind of make fun of someone else. Like to tease them. Y’know how we make cop jokes around Uncle Carl because he’s a cop?”

She nodded, and Ian continued, “That guy… Aunt Tami’s sister’s boyfriend, was making a joke and it ended up being at my expense. That’s what made Uncle Mickey mad. He didn’t mean to make fun of me, but he kind of did. That’s all. Uncle Mickey was just sticking up for me.”

Franny sat for a moment, deep in thought. “I didn’t know he was talking about you.”

“No, he wasn’t. Not directly. He was telling a story about someone else. But he made a comment about him being bipolar. D’you remember when we talked about that? That I have bipolar disorder?” 

Franny nodded, “That’s why you take your special medicine.”

Ian continued, “A lot of people don’t really understand what that means, and sometimes they make jokes about it that aren’t really funny. They’re just kind of… mean. So that’s why we got upset.”

Franny considered this for a minute and asked, “Do you want me to go tell mommy? She says I should tell her if someone’s being mean. She can fix it.” 

Ian smiled a little, patting her little back and shaking his head, “Nah, mommy already knows, she heard. And I think Uncle Mickey did a pretty good job telling him that what he said was wrong.” 

Mickey let out a sarcastic laugh, “And I got more to say to that piece of shit if I ever see his Northside yuppy fucking face again.”

“I think he got the point Mick,” Ian sighed, “Don’t waste your time.” 

Franny shrugged “Mommy and Uncle Lip and Aunt Tami were all still talking in there when I left. Mommy told me it was a good idea for me to come out here.” 

Mickey grabbed Ian’s hand, bumping their shoulders together. “Whatcha wanna do, man? We can head back to the apartment, go to the Alibi and get tanked, I don’t care, it’s up to you.”

“Don’t know, I’m tired of running from things. And you were right Mick, it’s our fucking house. Could we just sit out here for a little while?” Mickey ran a thumb across Ian’s hand and mumbles so quietly, in that voice he only uses with Ian- “‘Course we can”

Having completed her task of delivering beers, Franny stood up and put her hands on her hips, “I’m going to go inside, I won’t let anyone be mean to you Uncle Ian.”

Ian looked up to lock eyes with his niece, “I appreciate it Fran, thanks.” 

She stood up and gave Ian a kiss on the top of his head, no doubt a gesture she’d picked up from some other family member, likely Mickey or Fiona. Ian smiled as she turned away to walk back into the kitchen.

After a few minutes Ian jerked his head towards the door, “Y’ready?” 

Mickey hummed in agreement, standing and offering back his hand to help Ian up. They walked over the threshold of the kitchen into a conversation clearly about Mickey’s exchange with Chad. The Tamiettis were all sitting down in the living room, with the Gallaghers mostly standing, leaning against the various remaining surfaces. Lip’s hands were in his hair, a plain indication of his frustration and exhaustion. Tami abruptly stopped talking, in the middle of what seemed like an impassioned rant. She seemed unsure of how to continue now that Ian and Mickey had reentered the house. Debbie, sat on the couch with Franny in her lap, was scowling, while Liam absently stared at the wall, clearly wishing he were anywhere else. Carl quickly walked into the kitchen from where he had been leaning up against the living room door frame, clapping Ian on the shoulder.

“Hey, why don’t you guys go take a walk or something for a sec- I think Lip and Tami have it handled.”

Lip spoke up from the living room, “Yeah, it’s okay.”

Mickey tensed, bracing himself. “No, it’s not fucking okay Phillip-“

Lip grumbled something about that not being what he meant, shaking his head, while Ian quietly interrupted his husband, forcing him to make eye contact. 

“No, it’s not, but I don’t want to just keep going over it, Mick. I’m not in the mood to educate him. I’m not saying it’s okay, but I want to move on. Lip can handle it.”

Carl nodded and repeated himself, “Go take a walk, come back in ten. Lip and Tami got it.” 

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a joint and pressing it into Ian’s palm with a smirk. 

“Rolled this for later, you guys take it.”

Ian raised an eyebrow at Mickey, who let out a sigh with a slouch, “Fine. Be back in ten.”

-

The two of them return to the backyard, Tami’s yelling resumed, her voice carrying all the way outside. 

 “M’sorry, I know I keep talkin’ when you just want it to be over with,” Mickey mumbled, looking down at the dead grass in the vacant lot beside the house.

 Ian grabbed him by the back of his neck, fingers brushing through Mickey’s short hair, “Hey, no. I… I appreciate you sticking up for me- seriously. I’m just tired… tonight’s not supposed to be about me y’know? It’s supposed to be about Lip and Tami, and Fred, not me. I just wanted to be Lip’s brother tonight, not the crazy brother, the sick brother. I just don’t wanna be the one that causes the issues anymore.” 

“You didn’t cause this Ian. You being bipolar didn’t fucking cause this- that asshole, opening his mouth and not knowing when to shut it- that’s what caused it. I get that you just wanna let it go, and I will, but if he say’s something else-“

“If he says something else you can beat the shit out of him.”

Mickey grinned, looking up to meet Ian’s gaze. “Fucking fantastic. You wanna smoke this bitch?” 

He grabbed the joint out of Ian’s hand and pulled a lighter from his flannel’s front pocket.

Ian finally cracked a smile, one that actually reaches his eyes, “Free weed? Fuck yeah.”

Mickey tossed the lighter to Ian, who caught it and lit the joint with a practiced flick. He took a couple hits and closed his eyes, smiling again as he exhaled the smoke. He handed the lit joint over to Mickey, along with his lighter and jerked his head in the direction of the van in the backyard, “Wanna go sit?” 

Mickey nodded and breathed in a sharp inhale, heading in the direction of the passenger seat door. 

Ian climbed up into the drivers seat, letting out a deep sigh, “Feel like I’m in high school again- sneaking around with you, trying to find somewhere to be alone.” Mickey chuckled and passed the joint back over.

 They smoked in silence for a while, Ian nudging Mickey with his elbow as the ember approaches the filter, “You want the last hit?” 

“Nah man, that’s yours,” Mickey shakes his head.

Ian took it, stubbing out the butt on the van’s dashboard and tossing it onto the floor. 

“Still wanna kick his ass?” He asked, lazily turning his head towards Mickey with a grin.

Mickey rolled his eyes, “I think I can contain myself.”

“Yeah?” Ian breathed, inching his face closer to his husband’s. The moon, freshly risen, highlighted Ian’s face, illuminating the dash of freckles across his nose.

Mickey didn’t answer, opting to close the distance between them, pressing a soft kiss to Ian’s lips. Ian’s hand came up to cradle Mickey’s face, thumb gently brushing his cheek.

And if they didn’t make it back inside for a while, so be it. 

[cloudshapedpatch]

sing me a lullaby (don’t tell your boss what to do)

a super indulgent, tooth-rotting fluffy Julie and the Phantoms one shot.

julie can’t sleep so she goes to her boys for comfort. no plot. just sugar.

or! read on ao3 here

* * * *

Some nights, Julie could sleep like a rock. The band had found she was a surprisingly heavy sleeper, and could fall into a deep REM cycle within minutes. She was notorious for being able to fall asleep anywhere if she was tired enough. 

Tonight was not one of those nights. 

After many hours of tossing and turning, 3 relaxing YouTube videos and maybe a few too many melatonin gummies, Julie gave up on sleep. 

Her go-to solution to any problem nowadays was to see her boys, so without much thought, she slipped into her favorite funky monster slippers and made her way out the front door. 

The cold night air slapped her cheeks with a little alertness, and a little sense. If she went out to the studio, she was sure to stay up all night. Alas, it was still 2 in the morning, and her better judgement had set with the sun. She didn’t have anything really important to do tomorrow, right? 

She opened one of the studio doors and squinted against the lights, too bright in contrast to the darkness of the house.

“Jules! What are you doing up?” Reggie was the first to notice her arrival, standing up to guide her to the couch (giving up his own seat and opting to sit on the floor in front of her; she failed to notice in her fatigued state). 

“Couldn’t sleep,” Julie mumbled, rubbing her eyes. 

“Jeez, you’re shivering,” Luke was always quick to worry about her, “Why didn’t you grab a coat?” 

Alex had already taken off his pink sweatshirt and laid it in her lap before she could answer. As she slipped it on, she noted that while it was not warm like a living teen boy’s sweater should be, it was still warmer than she was expecting, and she was glad to have a little bit of extra heat. 

After having taken a couple of moments to recover from being outside (she’d admit, it was colder than she was expecting), she went to answer the boys’ questions, but giggled at the sight of them. Alex and Reggie had sat themselves down right at her feet and Luke was seated on the armchair next to her, all looking like curious puppies waiting for a treat. 

“Well??” They said at the same time, only filling Julie with more mirth. 

“Nothing, I just knew coming in here would make me feel better.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew she should have changed her wording. Luke stood up and was demanding she tell him who hurt her feelings, Reggie had attached himself to her legs, resting his cheek on her bare knees comfortingly, and Alex was halfway out the door, saying he’d figure out how to make a cup of tea. 

A fit of giggles later, Julie explained she just couldn’t sleep and was doing fine emotionally. It was only after the boys had sat back down that Julie asked what they had been doing before. 

“Just a little bit of lyric writing. Can’t play with the melody until everyone leaves for the day tomorrow, but it works for us.” Luke shrugged, looking toward his abandoned notebook on the piano. 

“Ooh, let me help!” 

“Uhh…” Reg and Alex said together, in their usual harmonised way, looking anywhere but at her.

“Look, Julie,” Luke started, and she already knew what he was gonna say, “You got school in the morning. You shouldn’t be writing.”

“No no no, it’s fine! Writing will tire my brain out, you know?” They didn’t look convinced, so she continued, “My thoughts are running a mile a minute, let me get ‘em out on paper. Please?”

All three boys looked away from her then, mumbling about how difficult it was to say no when she pouted. Finally they gave in, and they led her to the piano to pore over the notebook. 

Of course, they only got a few lines down before Reggie was throwing wads of paper at Alex, and Julie played Never Gonna Give You Up as softly as she could while simultaneously keeping her laughter down (the boys were fascinated that she knew the song since it had come out when they were young, which prompted a short lesson on memes and Rick Rolling. Reggie was especially enthralled by this). 

Luke gave up writing and went to the dart board, where Julie had hopped off the piano bench and challenged him. Not being one to back down, he and Julie played while Reg and Alex cheered them on. Alex humored her while Reggie was convinced no one could beat Luke at darts. He was right, but Julie didn’t mind so much, especially after Julie got to over-exaggerate her pity party and receive a nice long hug from her opponent, sharing an amused look with Alex while Luke rocked them back and forth. 

“I could go for some nachos right now.”

“You always want nachos, Reg.”

“Again, Reginald?”

It took Julie a moment to think through his statement (hey, it was past 3am, she had brain fog to wade through). Ever since the night they opened at the Orpheum, the boys found they could do other small things besides touch Julie, like eat, and much to Reggie's delight, take showers. 

She just giggled and grabbed Reggie by the hand, starting the short trek to the house, knowing the other two would follow. For a moment, she had forgotten what she was wearing, but stepping back into the cold night reminded her. She had walked out of the house wearing her pajama shorts and a short-sleeved crop top, and she was drowning in Alex’s hoodie. Her face heated at the thought of all the boys seeing her in nearly nothing but the large pink sweatshirt, playing off the color in her cheeks as windchill.

But she should have known the boys wouldn't have behaved.

Because while nothing the boys said would be able to be heard by her father or brother, the results of their actions were definitely audible. Alex was trying to heat the queso, but he spent too much effort trying not to drop the jar that he forgot about the spoon, which clattered loudly to the ground. All four froze in terror until Luke burst into laughter because some cheese had splattered into Julie’s hair, and she replied by smudging some cheese onto his nose. And after the ensuing cheese-throwing war, the kitchen was not a pretty sight. The mere thought of her dad coming down to see his daughter covered in cheese, alone, in the middle of the night, in their equally messy kitchen brought shivers. She’d surely be back to seeing Dr. Turner three days a week. 

The boys did their best to clean, but mostly entertained Julie while she wiped up the mess and carried the plate of nachos back to the studio (how long does it take a band of three dead teen boys to make a plate of nachos? apparently, 38 minutes) before they flopped on the ground in a big pile. Julie laid with her head on Luke’s chest, who had his head on Alex’s lap. Reggie laid on Julie’s legs and she ran her hands through his surprisingly soft hair as they slowly worked through the plate. 

“Hey Julie? Will you sing me a lullaby?”

“Are you serious?” Julie turned her head slightly to see him more clearly. She almost laughed, but then saw the look in his eyes, and couldn’t tell if he was serious or about to tease her. “Luke, you guys don’t even sleep.”

“Aw, c’mon Jules,” Reg begged, “You have such a nice voice.”

“The voice of an angel.” Luke added. Julie pushed all thoughts of the song she never let herself write down, yet constantly played in her dreams, and hoped that they couldn’t see the flush creeping down her neck.

“Fine. But only because I love y’all.”

Alex wiggled excitedly from under her as she cleared her throat and started to sing A Thousand Years (Julie was sort of glad they had died 25 years ago. She would virtually never run out of new material to impress them with, and Christina Perri was a classic). At some point Alex had laid down too, and Reggie had closed his eyes as Julie kept scratching his scalp as she sang. Luke ran his fingers over her shoulder as if he were strumming his guitar. And everything was alright.

A large yawn took over Julie’s voice just as she finished the song.

“Alright, time for bed, little miss.” Alex joked, poking her tongue as her mouth opened in another yawn. 

She swatted his hand away yet made no effort to get up, instead choosing to nestle further into Luke’s neck. “Sorry, can’t, Reggie fell asleep on me.”

Reggie cracked one eye open. “Nice try. We don’t sleep, remember?” Reggie climbed off her and grabbed her hands, pulling her to a stand. 

The blood rushed from her head down to her toes, causing her vision to turn dark and her balance swayed. Before she could catch herself, Luke had scooped her up into his arms. 

“Come on boys. We got a girl to tuck in.”

“Yes sir.”

“At your service.”

Julie played off her wheeze as a snort of amusement, burying her face into her hands. A few moments passed and they didn’t move, so she peeked out from between her fingers, only to see all three boys looking over her like she was exactly what they asked for for their birthday.

She yelped in surprise which only caused the boys to laugh. Julie huffed and crossed her arms, pursing her lips to keep from smiling.

“Oh, lighten up, boss. We’re going now.”

And then he was smiling that smile that he usually reserved for when they were alone or on stage. She snorted (for real this time, but still in an effort to keep her composure) and poked his cheek. 

For the fourth time that night, the cold night air whipped at her legs and face as Luke and the boys carried her to her bedroom. Reggie made an offhand comment on how absurd it would look if Ray woke up and saw his daughter floating around the house, and Julie had to slap her hand to her mouth to keep from laughing aloud; the boys all laughing loudly without restraint didn’t help.

And finally, once they were in the safety of her bedroom, they did exactly what they said they would. Alex tucked the pink hood inside the sweater so she could lay on it more comfortably (“You look all cozy, you can sleep in it for tonight.”), Reggie pulled back the covers and fluffed the pillows. 

Julie felt like a princess, being pampered by these boys who had crashed into her life and nestled their way into her heart. Luke even laid her down, hand supporting her neck, and all three of them literally tucked her in. 

“Hey guys? Will you sing me a lullaby?”

They groaned, mumbling together about karma, payback, and song recommendations. Eventually they settled themselves on her bed and sang her a song she didn’t recognize, one that must have been vaguely popular in the 90’s. It was soothing, and she felt the tugs of sleep start to take her under.

She must have dozed off, because she awoke to some shuffling, opening her eyes to see the boys tip-toeing out of her room.

“Luke,” 

She hadn’t meant to say it out loud. She had been thinking of him (and the fuzzy lingerings of a dream lined the edges of her mind, one with Luke and a magical dance and that sweet smile of his). But all three boys stopped, before Alex pushed Reggie through the door with a wink.

“You okay? Need anything?”

Her words failed her, heart full and eyes nearly brimming with tears. She scooted over and pulled back the covers, patting the sheets next to her and avoiding his eyes.

Just like she knew he would, he made no comment but slid into the bed and let Julie resume her earlier position on his chest. With a flick of his wrist, he pulled the covers back over them both and wrapped his arms around her back, keeping her close. 

Idly, she noted how much she liked laying on the boys (and especially him) because they were the perfect cuddling temperature. Not too hot, but not cold. Plus, she reasoned with herself, if he was nervous, at least he wouldn’t overheat the bed. 

Wait. Nervousness. She was sure Luke could feel her pounding heart, beating like thunder against his too-quiet chest. He didn’t say anything, just rolled her curls between his fingers as they laid in comfortable silence. 

Her thoughts began to wander, instead of relishing in the moment like she longed to do, but thoughts of all the boys had done for her, not just tonight, but in all the months she had known them. 

And then his thumbs were running over her cheeks, whispering soothing words and lifting her face, locking their eyes. Her cheeks were wet. She must have started crying.

“Happy tears, don’t worry about it.” 

He looked back at her quizzically.

“I was just thinking about how grateful I am that you guys are in my life.” She bit back the ‘especially you’ that fought to escape.

“We’ll always be here, Julie. You’re okay. Just go to sleep. I’ll wake you around 6? You’ll need to take a shower.” Luke took his hands out of her hair to show her a bit of cheese he picked out. 

Julie covered a laugh again, resting her head back on his chest, relishing in his company and willingness to do whatever she asked. And she fell asleep, for real this time, with his fingers in her hair and soft hums pulling her into the best sleep she’d had in a while. 

And never had she felt happier than that morning, Luke softly singing her into consciousness while Reggie brought her a cup of hot coffee and Alex picking her outfit for the day. 

Bonus:

Julie came home from school later that day exhausted but overjoyed. Flynn had teased her endlessly, but she was too happy to care.

Like she did every day, she said hello to her family before going into the studio to do her homework.

But her brain short circuited as she opened the door and found all three boys jumping up from their seats to greet her, Luke wearing Alex’s pink hoodie. It was a little small for him around the arms, not leaving much to be imagined. Julie felt her eyes grow wide, her brows climbing higher, but unable to fix her face or look away.

Alex, never one to miss a cue, nodded his chin towards Luke. “He insisted on wearing it today cause it smelled like you.”

Luke sidestepped to him and whacked him with the back of his hand, but the message had been received. She’d think about that later. For now, she had math homework and a cuddle pile with her ghosts to continue. 

[master-sass-blast]

Winter Stay-cation.

*insert pithy quip here*

Summary: A massive squall hits New York City. The snow, combined with a deep freeze, brings the city that never sleeps to a standstill once the police issue travel bans. Fortunately, you and Piotr know how to keep yourselves entertained during your impromptu stay-cation.

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader, Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson, and Ellie Phimister x Yukio.

Rating: G for fluff.

Word Count: 3.4k.

Set after “It’s Truly Magical.”

A/N: The movie quote from Day Five is from Alfred Hitchcock’s “Rear Window.”

Taglist:  @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @super-darkcloudstudent, @dandyqueen, @leo-writer

“—continuing into the middle of next week, if not longer. Expect heavy snowfall and temperatures below freezing, with windchill taking things below zero over the weekend.”

“Good grief.” You shake your head as you watch the weather report on the morning news. “It doesn’t get that cold when I fly full speed.”

Piotr, your husband, hands you a cup of coffee and shrugs. “January is ugly month.”

You smirk into your mug. “Bet this doesn’t compare to Siberian winters.”

“Not really,” he admits with a chuckle.

“The Chief of New York City’s Fire Department has issued a statement reminding residents to be careful when using their fireplaces and to monitor children and pets.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you quip, “Don’t use fireworks as kindling, we got it.”

Piotr snorts.

“In addition, the Police Department has issued a travel advisory in light of the predicted precipitation and sub-zero temperatures. All none-essential travel is restricted until the cold snap passes.”

“Groovy. Tell that to half the city.”

Piotr grins, shakes his head again, then turns the TV off. “Looks like we will have to keep ourselves occupied here this week.”

You cast a disparaging glance outside –where the snow is already up to Piotr’s knees—then say, “Like we were going anywhere else.”

 ***

 Day One

 There’s an upside to when the “deep freeze” hits. It’s already winter break, meaning there’s no coordinating classes, figuring out how to pick up students that don’t live at the mansion, or having to get up at the balls-ugly hours of the early morning in the stupid, frigid cold.

The two of you wake up at your leisure, around nine o’clock. You laze around in bed for a bit, snuggling and chatting and smooching, then head downstairs for breakfast. You wind up setting up shop at the dining room table, catching up on grading and filling out end of the semester report cards.

“Can you check these for me?” Piotr asks, handing you a stack of essays from his art classes. “I already made content-based marks; I am just not sure about English grammar.”

“Fun fact: most native English speakers aren’t sure about their grammar, either,” you joke with a smirk.

Piotr snorts, then checks his computer clock before standing. “Is about lunchtime. I was thinking soup and sandwiches?”

You nod. “Sounds tasty.”

“Would you like anything in particular?”

“Surprise me.” You make a contented hum when Piotr leans over the table to kiss you, then smile as you watch him head to the kitchen.

You really are the world’s luckiest woman (a sentiment you feel even more keenly when he comes back with a fresh cup of hot cider for you).

 ***

 Day Two

 “We should clean.”

The two of you are sitting on the couch. Your laptops sit on the coffee table, displaying the completed efforts of uploading grades to the online gradebook that the school uses. Two mugs that once contained coffee sit next to either laptop.

You look up at Piotr. You’re tucked against his side, head leaning on his shoulder while his fingers trace designs on the sleeve of your sweater (which is technically his sweater, but that’s neither here nor there). “Huh?”

“We should clean,” he repeats as he scrubs at his face with his free hand. “House could use it.”

You crane your neck to look over his shoulder. “We don’t really have that many dirty dishes.”

Piotr snorts, then raises an eyebrow at you. “When was last time we vacuumed? Or deep cleaned bathrooms? Or washed windows?”

“We can see out the windows just fine!”

Piotr grins and shakes his head. He stands, holding his hand out to you. “Come on, myshka. Clean home, clean mind.”

“I’ll have you know that my mind is nothing but dirty, and I’m offended that you would dare insinuate otherwise.”

Piotr laughs and helps you up. “We can start upstairs and work our way down.”

 ***

 Cleaning with Piotr isn’t so bad. He carries his fair share of the workload, does things to their proper doneness, and is a firm supporter of blasting tunes while cleaning.

“Take! Me! On!” You bounce up and down in time with the beat while you clean the sliding glass doors in your bedroom that lead out to the balcony. “I’ll… be… gone! In a day or two!”

Behind you, Piotr laughs. He’s hauling out a trashbag from the bathroom –no doubt filled with the sheer amount of crumpled paper towels it takes to get the place sanitary again. “I see you are enjoying yourself.”

“Absolutely not. I’m suffering endlessly. I’m going to die any minute now.” And then, to prove you point, you flop to the floor dramatically (taking care to use your powers to cushion your landing).

Piotr lets out a choked gasp, then clutches at his chest. “You keep scared me!”

You look up at him and laugh. “You know I can catch myself! You’ve seen me do that before!”

“Changes nothing!” He lets out a ragged breath, hand still pressed over his heart. “I could have heart attack.”

You giggle, then lift yourself off the floor with a swirl of wind. You land nimbly on your toes before him and wrap your arms around his waist. “Aw, now who’s being dramatic?”

“I fail to see how concern for your well-being is dramatic!”

You suppress a grin, opting to pop up on the balls of your feet and kiss him instead. “I’m very sorry I scared you, baby.”

“Is okay.” He kisses you gently, then gazes down at you with a rueful smile on his lips. “What am I going to do with you, myshka?”

“Dance with me?” You flash him an impish smile, then start bouncing in time to the music again.

Piotr chuckles, then takes your hands in his and bops along with you.

The two of you dance around the room –well, as much as what you’re doing can be called dancing. You sing the lyrics of the song to each other, not sticking to any particular key or tempo.

You laugh when Piotr lifts you into his arms, bridal style, then squeal in delight when he spins the two of you around.

It’s perfect.

 ***

 Day Three

 You wake up to the sound of Piotr’s phone chirping –because, even on vacation, he still keeps a daily morning alarm.

He groans as he comes to, then laughs when you roll over him and shut off his alarm for him. “Well, good morning to you, too.”

You set his phone back on his nightstand, then straddle his hips and plant your hands against his brawny chest. “You’re not making me clean today.”

Piotr smirks up at you, bushy eyebrow raising in challenge. “Oh?”

“We’re spending today in this bed,” you continue. “Just you” –you tap his chest—“and me, and as few clothes as possible. Sound good?”

He pretends to mull it over, even has he takes off the shirt he’d been sleeping in. “Are we allowed bathroom and meal breaks?”

“I’ll allow it.”

“Ah, very generous. Thank you, benevolent myshka.”

“You’re very welcome.” You giggle when he grins –then let out a delighted yelp when he rolls suddenly, pinning you between him and the bed. You sigh as he kisses you, eyes fluttering shut. You arms wind around his neck, holding him against you while his hands smooth down your body.

 ***

 Day Four

 Cabin fever starts setting in between the third and fourth day. There’s only so many chores you can do, only so many papers you can grade (and you’re out of papers to grade, which doesn’t help your case), only so much sex you can have before you’re gonna start losing your mind.

Fortunately, Piotr is well-attuned to you and your mental states –meaning he notices that you’re getting twitchy before you dip into pyromania to keep yourself entertained.

“We should do something fun today,” he says during breakfast. He spreads some sour cream over his plate of blinis, then adds cottage cheese and sausage meat. “Perhaps play some video games. Ellie has been pestering me to play some multi-people games with her and Yukio.”

“Could be fun,” you say before stuffing your mouth full with Nutella-covered blini. You swallow, then ask, “What did she want to play?”

“Ah… she had two. I think… Falling Guys and Among Us?”

A slow, wicked grin stretches across your place. Fuck yeah. “Let her know we’re in.”

 ***

 Piotr, unfortunately, turns out to be none too good at Fall Guys.

“No!” He wails, then flops back against the couch when he gets thrown off a platform and into the slime. “I could not run away!”

“You have to anticipate the enemy’s movements,” Ellie says over Discord. She’s already qualified and is spectating you and Yukio. “Predict their strategy, then counter.”

“I think it is less strategy and more ‘giant hands do not play nice with tiny controller,’” Piotr grumbles good-naturedly.

“Or maybe you got your butt kicked like a scrub,” Ellie fires back.

“I never contested that,” Piotr chuckles.

“Alright,” you say, eyes glued on your pink and yellow striped player. “I’m almost there, there’s plenty of slots left –no, you fucking pigeon! Let me go!”

“Language,” Piotr murmurs between bouts of laughter.

“It’s always a pigeon!” Ellie groans. “Fucking skyrats.”

“Language, NTW.”

You qualify for the next round (no thanks to the damn pigeon, who qualifies, too). Egg Scramble is next, and you wind up facing off against Ellie and Yukio for the win.

“Damn it!” There’s the sound of something hitting the floor –most likely Ellie throwing her controller—when she and Yukio get booted out. “Yellow always loses!”

“Is that it?” you ask while the loading screen plays. “Are we at the final round yet?”

“There’ll be one more,” Yukio says. “To finish whittling down the competitors.”

Sure enough, there’s a round of Tip-Toe –which you get through by the skin of your teeth—and then you and eight other players are sent to the finale.

“Okay, Hex-A-Gone. You’ll want to just hop from tile to tile,” Ellie advises you while the level loads. “It makes the tiles last longer.”

“Don’t be afraid to drop a couple levels at first,” Yukio adds. “You can carve out one of the lower levels, meaning anyone that falls above you will have further to go and will be more likely to get out.”

“I appreciate it, but don’t expect any miracles,” you say, laughing self-deprecatingly.

Piotr kisses the top of your head. “You can do this, myshka.”

You follow the girls’ advice; you let yourself drop down two levels, then start hopping from tile to tile to start carving out the platform.

“One guy’s already out!” Ellie announces. “You’ve got this!”

“Shit! I fell!”

“That’s okay,” Yukio reassures you. “Find a decent mass of tiles and hop, don’t run. Make them last.”

“The pigeon grabbed another player,” Piotr marvels, shaking his head.

“Yeah, well, they both died, so fat lot of good it did them,” Ellie mutters.

You keep going, bounce from brightly colored hexagon to brightly colored hexagon.

“Only four left!” Ellie lets out a whoop. “Holy shit, you’re gonna make it!”

“Don’t jinx me!” you laugh as you dodge another player’s attempt to grab you. “Don’t jinx me!”

“Three left –two! It’s just you and one other guy!”

“You’ve got this, Y/N!” Yukio cheers.

You dive for a clump of tiles –and miss. “No!” You groan, then laugh as your character plummets into the pink slime. “Damn. I’m never going to do that good ever again.”

Piotr wraps an arm around your shoulders in a conciliatory hug. “You did wonderful job, myshka.”

“He’s right. That was really good. The winner fell a few seconds after you, so it was basically a coin toss as to who was gonna get the crown,” Ellie says while the winner’s animation plays on screen.

“Yeah! Great job!” Yukio congratulates you.

“Wanna do another round?” Ellie asks as she flicks between skins and accessories for her avatar.

Yukio laughs lightly. “Baby, we were going to get lunch.”

“Oh, right.”

“Perhaps we can try other game after lunch,” Piotr suggests. “‘Fall Guys’ is okay, but makes me too dizzy.”

“Yeah, sure. Text me when you guys are done eating.”

***

 Among Us doesn’t go much better for Piotr, if only because he doesn’t adhere to the strategy of the game. He does his tasks without fail –which usually leaves him alone, and thus a prime target for killing or pinning a murder on. He’s also a terrible liar, which makes it easy to tell when he is the impostor.

You laugh as Piotr’s little red spaceman goes floating into space. “I honestly feel bad.”

“I don’t,” Wade says (he and Nate hopped on the Discord call when Yukio sent them an invite). “Pay for some acting classes, Chrome Dome! Give us a challenge, at least.”

Piotr starts grumbling in Russian, but it gets cut off when the round starts up again.

(You all still wind up losing because Nate’s the other impostor and racks up bodies like nobody’s business.)

“I’m still waiting for when Ellie and Dad get the impostor role together,” you comment as the defeat screen flashes on your laptop screen.

“What, so we all die in five minutes?” Wade grumbles. “So we can suffer the agony of betrayal and not honoring trust again?”

“It’s just a game, Wade,” Nate sighs. “And I apologized already.”

“Is our relationship ‘just a game’ to you, Natey? I gave you an alibi –and then you shanked me in the shower like rejected prison bitch!”

“Language, Wade,” your husband pipes up, voice world-weary. “Please.”

You all start another round once Wade calms down –which, admittedly, takes a while and a great deal of coaxing from Nathan. You grin when you see that you’re an impostor alongside Yukio –then giggle to yourself when a plan pops into your mind.

You start stalking Piotr around the map. You fake doing tasks alongside him, acting as his shadow as he treks around the map. On the corner of your screen, you watch your kill timer wind down, then wait for the right moment once it runs out, and—

Downstairs, in his art studio, your husband lets out an indignant scream when your character murders his.

You fall back onto the bed and cackle.

 ***

 Day Five

 The squall rages on outside. The world is practically buried in snow. It’s a sea of white outside your bedroom windows, blinding and sterile.

You peer at the swaths of snow blanketing every inch of ground, every tree branch, and every shrub, then nestle further under the blankets. “Ugh. I don’t even want to get out of bed today.”

Piotr chuckles, then wraps an arm around your waist. “How come?”

“Have you seen what it’s like outside? It’s disgusting!”

“I thought you liked snow.”

“I do. That’s how you know it’s bad.” You sigh as you eye the fat, fluffy flakes falling from the sky. “I wish I could, like, go outside. Go to a store or something. Leave the house.”

“Is not safe to drive yet.”

“I know, I know.” You sigh. “Is it bad that I miss the color green?”

“Nyet. Is normal.”

You smile, just a little, when Piotr kisses the back of your head. You roll over to face him. “Can we build a blanket fort today?”

He raises an eyebrow. “What… here? In bedroom?”

“Yeah. We can make it look all pretty, and snuggle in bed, and watch movies, and have sex…”

“Bozhe ty moi.” Piotr snorts, then takes a moment to study your face, your eyes. “You really want blanket fort?”

“Kind of, yeah. I just… I want something new to look at.”

The corner of his mouth turns up in a soft smile. He presses his lips against your forehead. “Alright, myshka. Let’s make fort.”

***

 “When a man and a woman see each other and like each other, they ought to come together. Wham. Like a couple of taxis on Broadway.”

You let out a content, relaxed sigh, then wriggle closer to Piotr.

The fort, admittedly, is simple –but you don’t mind. While you were taking a shower, Piotr assembled the whole thing, just to give you a little surprise.

He’d brought up a couple floor lamps from the main floor, then clipped some fairy lights to them before draping the largest quilt in the house over top to make the room. He’d pinned some throw blankets to either side of the quilt to make the sides, then made the bed and assembled the pillows so the two of you could have a nice, cozy, comfy den to watch movies in.

The recurring, delighted thought of ‘he made it for me; he made it for me because he knew I wanted one’ loops around in your brain like a bumblebee drunk on fermented crab apples. You grin, then loop your arms around Piotr’s neck and kiss his cheek.

He grins, cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “What was that for?”

“You made me a blanket fort.”

“You asked for one.”

“Yeah, but you made it for me. You could’ve just waited until we could both work on it.”

He shrugs, lips curving into a soft, pleased smile. “I wanted to see look on face. You were very happy.”

“Correction: I am very happy.” You kiss the tip of his nose, then his lips. “I love you, Piotr.”

“And I love you, Y/N.”

 ***

 Day Six

 You know it’s bad when you wake up before Piotr.

You look over at your husband, who’s still slumbering away next to you –and sawing some logs, no less—then out at the winter hellscape outside, and decide there’s only one thing for it.

You’re channeling your inner Great British Bake Off contestant and demolishing the kitchen.

***

 Piotr comes downstairs around ten in the morning –which is a miraculous amount of sleep in time for him—but by then, the damage has already been done.

There’s a cake cooling on the counter (you’d found a box of cake mix in the back of the pantry and decided to use it as a warm-up. The mixer is working overtime on a double batch of sugar cookies –plus there’s already chocolate chip cookie dough chilling in the fridge.

You look up from the cookbook you’d been perusing –you were thinking pie next—and flash your husband a slightly sheepish grin as he gapes at the kitchen. “Uh… good morning?”

“Myshka…”

“I made cake.”

“I can see that.” Piotr drops his heads into his hands and makes a noise somewhere between a groan and a laugh. “Why?”

“Because being trapped inside is stressing me out and I want to cope by eating my weight in desserts.”

Piotr sighs, then lifts his head. He eyes the mixer, then the increasingly sheepish expression on your face. “How much is that?”

“In the bowl or in the fridge?”

“Bozhe ty moi.”

“Look, the way I see it, we can share—”

“You have that much correct. We do not need five million cookies.”

“Excuse you, I’m only making three million. Also, do you know where the lard is?”

Piotr’s face scrunches up. “Lard? Why—”

“I wanna make pie.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “We already have cake. And goodness knows how many kinds of cookies.”

“But those aren’t pie.” You smile impishly at him. “Plus, like, pie has fruit, so it’s good for you. You like fruit. Think about how good it’ll be to eat something with fruit after all the cake, and the cookies…”

“Or I could just eat fruit.” He sighs, resigned and slightly frustrated, when you bat your eyelashes at him. “I will check pantry.”

***

 Day Seven

 “—as of today, authorities are lifting the ban on nonessential travel—”

“Yes!” You launch yourself into the air, twirling around and pumping your fists before landing lightly on the couch once more. “Finally!”

Piotr laughs and shakes his head. “What, is staying inside with me so terrible?”

“Absolutely not.” You crawl across the couch and into his lap, then give him a loud smooch. “I have enjoyed every single day of your company. However, you’ve got about fifteen minutes before I start repainting the walls out of sheer boredom.”

Piotr bursts into raucous guffaws. He puts a hand over his eyes, shoulders and stomach shaking with each laugh. He sighs, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes as minute giggles slip past his lips. “Well, we do need to restock on food. And flour and butter, since someone decided to open bakery yesterday.”

You pointedly ignore the pies and full cookie jar sitting on the kitchen counter. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He snorts, then pats your thigh. “Get dressed, myshka. We will go shopping.”

“Fuck yeah!” You zip up the stairs.

Downstairs, you can hear Piotr start laughing again.

[haileyyanneupton]

🚨 fire alarm 🚨

JAY HALSTEAD X HAILEY UPTON

warnings: swearing, fluff

prompt: it’s three am, in the dead of winter, some motherfucker pulled/set off the fire alarm and i am being very vocal about how i’m gonna make that fucker pay (college/university au)

masterlist

After a long day with back to back classes that left her completely wrecked, Hailey was ready to collapse into her bed the second she finished finalising her her notes for the evening — which is exactly what she did. Changing into pyjamas, the girl dove beneath her covers and was sound asleep by 11pm — that was until a shrill ringing awoke her from her slumber.

It was the fire alarm.

Panic struck through her for a moment as she sat up in her bed, her mind foggy as she threw the covers off of her with a groan. It wasn’t long before Hailey’s roommate Vanessa pushed her door open tiredly to make sure she was awake before the two girls walked out and to the emergency evacuation point. As the chill that came with being outside in the dead of winter hit Hailey, who was only wearing a thin tank top and a pathetic excuse for pyjama pants, she very quickly became very pissed off.

At first — when she thought there was a real emergency — Hailey was patient, if not a little annoyed at whatever idiot had managed to set a fire in their dorm at three in the morning. But after being informed that it was in fact the work of a group of frat boys who pulled the alarm solely to be a nuisance, Hailey was about to knock somebody out. Her urge to knock somebody out rose to committing straight up homicide when she found out that the campus security team was keeping them outside in the snow while they gave the building ‘one last sweep.’ One last sweep that so far, had lasted an hour and a half.

“This is bullshit!” Hailey exclaimed, pacing back and forth with her arms crossed over her chest in an attempt to try and keep herself warm. “They’ve made us stand out here in the middle of winter for almost two hours already, the windchill has bought the temperature down to -20, and —“

“Oh my god, will someone just shut her up already?”

Hailey pivoted on her foot, coming face to face with the person who had spoken behind her.

“Excuse me? What right do you have you pathetic little —“

“Hail, calm down,” Vanessa placed a hand on her best friend’s shoulder as she pulled her back slightly, not wanting to have to watch her roommate get arrested at almost 5am. “He’s not worth it.”

“It’s ridiculous, V! Half of us are barely dressed and are freezing our assess off — it can’t be good for us! I swear when I find out who those frat boys are — and I totally will — I’m going to —“

“Hey.”

Hailey found herself being interrupted by a green eyed, freckled boy who stood before her in nothing but a t-shirt which left his goosebump-ridden skin exposed — Jay Halstead, a boy she had known since she was in high school. They were close, but with finals fast approaching, Hailey had shut herself out from everybody while she studied day and night. Jay held a sympathetic look in his eyes as he frowned over at the girl, her teeth chattering and lips tinged blue from the elements.

“Hails, take this,” he spoke gently, holding a hoodie out to her that had previously been hanging off of his arm. “You look cold.”

“No, Jay. Thank you, but no,” Hailey shook her head. “You need it. We all need it. It shouldn’t take this long to do a sweep of a building with three-hundred students after establishing that there was no fire in the first place. And what’s worse is that we’re all going to be expected to go to class in four hours!”

The boy standing there with the hoodie couldn’t help but smirk as he caught sight of Vanessa facepalming behind Hailey. He had to stile a laugh when she looked back up at him however, the girl pivoting on her foot once again to face Vanessa with furrowed brows.

“Vanessa! This isn’t funny!”

“You’re like an angry velociraptor, Hail. It’s fucking hilarious.”

Hailey only tutted in response, mumbling something under her breath about angry velociraptors before turning back to Jay. A sudden blast of wind came at the same very moment that she turned towards the boy, causing her to shiver all over again as the chill burnt against her skin — she was definitely going to have a pretty severe case of windburn the next day.

“I’m so fucking done,” Hailey crossed her arms over her chest once again. “This is —“

Hailey fell silent once again, but this time it was due to the shock of warmth covering her body all of a sudden. It seemed that Jay had gone against her wishes and pulled his hoodie over Hailey’s head anyway, silence falling in the immediate area for the first time in at least an hour. Jay felt a sense of relief wash over him as he watched the blonde finally accept his gesture — even though she was making her presence known as a force to be reckoned with, she still seemed so tiny in comparison to the weather they were enduring. There was snow intertwined through her hair and despite the dirty looks he would get — he had no choice but to agree with what she was saying.

“You’re right, you know,” Jay said gently, not mentioning the hoodie which was hanging down to her knees and extending well past where her fingers ended. “We shouldn’t still be out here. But we are, so — I guess there’s not much we can do.”

Hailey’s eyes fell to the ground as she sighed. “I guess.”

As Vanessa disappeared off to find her boyfriend Kevin, Jay and Hailey were left standing beside each other awkwardly. Hailey had never been so tired and stressed in her life; the fire alarm had been enough to send her into a complete rampage that was sure to haunt her for the rest of eternity. Though she had appreciated Jay’s kind gesture, her mind was simply too foggy to properly verbalise her thanks — no thanks to the icy cold weather they were enduring. The sound of the wind whistling was the only thing breaking the silence, each of their eyes wandering around the courtyard as Jay finally cleared his throat to speak.

“You’re okay, right?” Jay asked, genuine concern laced through his words as he looked over at Hailey whose eyes had suddenly become rimmed red. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the cold or because she was about to cry — either way, she didn’t look happy, and that meant that Jay too was unhappy.

“Yeah,” Hailey’s words came out as more of a forced exhale if anything. “I-I. . .”

The second Jay saw a tear roll down her cheek, he immediately pulled his friend into his chest as he rubbed circles on her back in an attempt to offer up some comfort. Even though Hailey wasn’t much of a hugger, she welcomed the embrace of her long time friend — a bit more than she probably should have if she was being honest with herself.

“What do you need? Do you need me to go yell at these security guys until they let us back in? Do you need me to go and wake up Kim from the other building? What if I go and find Vanessa and —“

“I’m just exhausted and stressed and everything just caught up with me all at once.”

Jay nodded lightly, his chin resting atop Hailey’s head. “I get it. I’m here, yeah?”

Hailey nodded tiredly against Jay’s chest and before either of them knew it, she had somehow managed to fall asleep. Jay would never know how she did it — falling asleep standing up wasn’t something he had ever witnessed before — but he didn’t mind. As soon as their building opened up again, Jay found himself delicately picking up Hailey, who was still swimming in his dark navy blue hoodie, carrying the sleeping girl through the courtyard and back to her dorm. He made sure to place all of the blankets that were laying on her bed over the top of her neatly before tip-toeing out as quietly as he could, leaving behind nothing but his hoodie and his scent for when Hailey eventually woke up once more.

tags: @ruzek-halstead @lissethsrojas @justanotheronechicagofan @onechicago-upsteadrhekker @lumosian545 @detective-buttercup @yournameisyours @upstead4ever @littlesliceofg 

a/n: sorry if this is terrible :( i really tried :(

[bimboamyrose]

Unfamiliar - A Metamy Fanfic (Ch. 5)

Ch. 5: The Right Thing

First two chapters

Previous (Ch. 4)

The afternoon was better described as crisp than frosty. Signs that spring was approaching appeared in the cloudless sky and dissolving frost. The sun sat high up in the sky, indicative of the slowly lengthening days. Amy would have insisted on taking the scenic route to reach Tails’ lab, but feared the tape holding Metal Sonic’s foot in place wouldn’t hold up in the sloshing snow. Flying up the hill appeared to be the safest option.

The pair repeated yesterday’s maneuver of having Amy attach herself to Metal’s back. This time, however, there was the added challenge of navigating as the cold wind stung her eyes. The windchill they experienced in the significantly colder air blew through the lighter coat she’d chosen to wear due to the lack of frost. Amy began shivering.

Less than a minute later, she could begin to feel the warmth building up in Metal’s body again. He also slowed down to walking speed in the air to allow her to open her eyes. Metal’s back felt toasty against her and she could feel her tense shoulders relax a bit. She sighed in relief. “Hey, are you doing this on purpose?” she wondered aloud.

Metal sort of shrugged his shoulder, not wanting to disturb Amy’s grip around his neck. It did take a bit more energy and the warming feature was probably reserved for times much more frigid than this, but the trip was short. After all, she had given him some comfort, so why not return the favor?

“Well, thanks.” Amy leaned her head over his back, resting a cheek on his satin-clad shoulder to get a better look at the landscape. They were far higher off the ground that was necessary by the time she noticed. “Head down there,” she pointed. They descended much slower this time, and by the time they landed near the entrance, it had taken longer than if they’d just walked. The view as they approached, however, trumped that of even her regular scenic route. 

Amy and Metal walked toward the entrance, but the door swung wide open before she could get near the doorbell. “What are you doing?” Tails peeked his head out the door to take a nervous look around. “Get inside.”

Amy scoffed. “Nice to see you, too.”

The door slammed shut behind them automatically. Tails was already most of the way down the hall when he took a sharp turn into a door to the left. 

What’s eating him? Amy followed the boy with Metal Sonic limping close behind. They turned into his sprawling laboratory, where Tails stood behind a series of screens. “Tails? You alright?”

He looked up from his command center nervously. “Did anyone see you?”

“How should I know?”

“Amy, if anyone finds out-”

“What, Tails? They’re gonna reprimand me?” she rolled her eyes.

Tails grumbled. He didn’t want to say too much in front of Metal Sonic for fear of jogging its memory. But what if Eggman had spotted them? Surely he must be looking for his weapon by now. And if anyone else on the team had seen the two of them flying around it could have been mistaken for another hostage situation. Tails pointed directly at the robot. “Go sit on that table over there.”

Amy followed Metal as he sat on the cold bench. It looked like an operating table, surrounded by a tangled web of wires and machinery. She was nervous for him. Amy trusted that Tails would know what to do but worried that his fear of Metal Sonic would cloud his intentions. 

Tails mashed the keys on his computer aggressively with his one functioning hand. “Amy, I need you to come over here.”

She looked back at her steely companion. Amy flashed a smile and placed her hand briefly on Metal’s shoulder. “You’ll be fixed in no time,” she reassured before joining Tails behind his small command center.

A few keystrokes later, a sheer green forcefield appeared like a bubble around the table, encapsulating Metal Sonic and several of the nearby machines inside. He looked up at the glowing shield curiously. 

Amy gasped at the sudden appearance of it. “Tails, what’s the shield for?”

“So he can't hear us, or get out.” He turned to his teammate with a huff. “Have you thought this plan out at all? How do you think Sonic is gonna react when he finds out?”

Amy shuffled on her feet nervously. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But look, Cream and I spent some time with him-”

“You got Cream involved?” Tails was raising his voice indignantly.

“She came over and saw him, okay! And it went fine. It’s like they became friends.”

Tails scoffed harshly. “Look, Amy, I know you always want to see the good in everything, but this is dangerous. Even if we get that thing on our side, who’s to say Eggman won’t just capture Metal Sonic and reprogram it again? He’s done it before.”

“We’ll just have to leave a lasting impression, then,” Amy responded matter-of-factly. 

“You can’t be serious…”

“I am! Look, we don’t have to reprogram Metal, he can learn this stuff on his own.” Amy reasoned. “He has real emotions and stuff. I don’t know how to explain it.” She looked through the glowing bubble and met eyes with Metal, who was looking to her inquisitively. He held his severed arm out, turning his head. Amy waved back with a kind smile. “He just needs some friends. I think he’s capable of being good.”

Tails watched their interaction with fascination. It was almost upsetting to see Metal Sonic sitting innocently in his lab after all the strife and injury his team had suffered at the robot’s hands over the years. He looked down at his own broken wrist, ears drooping. “So your plan is to just become roommates with that thing? After everything that’s happened?”

“Look, he needs to decide for himself what he wants. You have to restore his memory.”

Tails glared back at her. “You want him to remember? 

“It doesn’t count if we force him.” Amy gazed at Tails wet eyes, a soft pout spread across her lips. “Wouldn’t you want a second chance?” 

Tails could feel his face becoming hot. “And what if I refuse?”

“Tails, you’re the smartest person I know. You could deactivate Metal if he became a real threat.” Amy’s sweet eyes narrowed.  “But if you don’t help me with this, I’ll find someone who will.”

She could be convincing when she wanted to be- or maybe “manipulative” was the better word. Tails more than understood that Amy was capable of putting herself in harm’s way if she thought it was the right thing to do. “I don’t know how long it’ll take to fix. It could be weeks.” He hesitantly clicked some keys and the forcefield fell away. “I’ll do it, but we have to tell the team. We couldn’t keep it a secret, anyway.”

Amy nodded in agreement. “Thank you. It’ll work, you’ll see.” She turned and jogged back over to Metal, who was irately chiming something at her. “Sorry! Just had to take care of some business first. Relax, we’re gonna fix you now.”

Tails couldn’t believe how nonchalant Amy was being about everything. Metal Sonic had probably caused her the most tauma out of the team, having kidnapped her at a young age. But for however fierce she could be, Amy was pure and forgiving in nature. Tails always thought that was admirable- if a little stupid. He took a deep breath in preparation for what he was about to embark on. 

The boy awkwardly approached Metal Sonic, walking past him to pull some wires from a nearby machine. “So, I guess we’re gonna fix you and try to get your memory back.” He remembered what Amy said about being friendly and struggled to say something polite. “Nice-uh- jacket? Wait, isn’t that Amy’s?”

“It’s Metal’s now. He looks better in it,” she smiled.

“Right. ‘He.’” Tails turned to address Metal Sonic directly. “I’m gonna fix you, but I also want to copy your memory so I can figure out how to restore it. We have to turn you off for that. Understand?”

Metal Sonic looked to Amy for guidance. She seemed to know the boy well, but Metal was unsure that Tails was comfortable repairing him. The boy seemed hesitant. “Don’t worry, you’re in good hands. If anyone can fix you, it’s Tails,” she reassured.  Metal turned back to Tails and nodded.

“Okay. You should lie back, and you can put the arm down for now.”

Metal Sonic complied. Tails stuck several electromagnetic wires on his head and core. He could see Amy standing back, flashing him a nervous smile. He listened as Tails brought out the same remote he was holding when they met the day before. Metal wasn’t able to catch what he was saying before the lights in his eyes scrambled and went out.

“Metal? Are you awake?” Amy shook his shoulder but the robot didn’t respond. It was eerie seeing him so lifeless now.

“He’s off. Don’t worry about us, I’m going to run some scans and see what I can learn. It’ll take a few hours, so I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

Amy nodded confidently. She knew Tails would do the right thing - and hoped that in the end, Metal Sonic would, too. 

-------

Amy took her time for the rest of the afternoon to run errands. She did some shopping in town and picked up groceries, returning home past sunset. She waited a few more hours for a call back from Tails but was beginning to think he’d keep making repairs overnight. It was nearly 11 PM before she received the call and had to brave the frigid night.

Tails didn’t answer the door personally- it opened on its own by his command. Amy hurried inside to warm up. She found her teammate at the workstation in his lab, magnifying goggles over his eyes. Metal was in the same spot- still off. 

“Hey Amy.” Tails didn’t look up from whatever he was fiddling with.

“Hey. How did it go?” Amy approached the workbench, peering over Tail’s shoulder. He was screwing one of the panels of Metal’s hand shut with the help of a vice to hold it in place. 

“Well, I was able to take a look around his head, but…” Tails flipped up his goggles and met Amy’s eyes. “There’s this sort of firewall there blocking access to a lot of whatever’s in there. And apparently there’s a failsafe, like a protocol in case Metal Sonic lost his memory, but it didn’t work.” He shrugged and scrunched his eyebrows at the mystery.

“Really? What was the protocol?”

“Seems like it was meant to help him navigate back to Eggman’s base for repairs, but his GPS isn’t working either. And that’s another thing- if I fix it, he’ll be trackable.”

“So he’s not right now?”

“Nope. And I don’t think we don’t want him to be.” Tails swiveled his chair to face the robot behind them. “But that doesn’t mean Eggman won’t still come looking…”

Amy scoffed. “He’s left him to rot for months before. He won’t look unless he’s planning something.”

“Let’s he doesn't,” Tails sighed, picking the mechanical hand from the vice and walking it over to Metal’s body. “I’m gonna keep trying to access the memory. It’ll take a while. Oh, and I removed all his weapons for now- just in case.” He fastened Metal’s hand to his forearm, screwing it in place.

“You shouldn’t mess with him like that,” Amy frowned.

“Don’t start- it’s for our own good. Especially if you plan on keeping him around your place.”

“I guess…” Amy was avoiding having to think about it. She wanted to help Metal, but having a long-term house guest in her little home wasn’t exactly in her plans. She struggled to think of another solution. 

Tails finished his work. “Well, what do you think? Not too shabby for one hand, especially considering the number we did on him,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, we really hit him hard, huh? He looks great, though.” Tails had removed the jacket Metal was wearing in order to work on his whole body. The jagged edges around where his left arm had torn off were now smooth and polished. His foot was reattached properly at the ankle. There remained scratches in his paint at the head and other areas he’d sustained damage, but all of his missing pieces were reattached neatly.

“You don’t know the half of it! I need to make more internal repairs. And what was with all the duct tape?”

Amy blushed. “I thought it would help,” she mumbled.

“Well, taking it off was a nightmare. Just leave the repairs to me, okay?”

Amy rolled her eyes. “Fine.” 

“Anyway, before I wake him, I think we should agree on something…” Tails rubbed his arm awkwardly.

“What is it?”

“Are you gonna tell him anything about his past? Do you think it’s a good idea?”

Amy peered down at Metal’s body. It didn’t feel right to keep things from him, but if they told him too much he might decide to look for his master. She didn’t want to lose the opportunity, but felt conflicted about hiding the truth. “I’m not gonna tell him, but I can’t lie if he asks,” she decided.

Tails nodded. “Fair, enough, I guess.” He knew he wouldn’t be able to convince her otherwise. “Let’s get it going then.” 

Tails fetched the remote from his desk and stood by Amy. He pressed three buttons in sequence with his thumb. A loud mechanical buzzing filled the otherwise quiet lab before dying down to a whisper. After a few seconds, Metal Sonic’s eyes illuminated. He peered around, spotting Tails first, then shifting his gaze to Amy. His eyes lingered on her.

“Hey, Metal. How do you feel?” Her warm smile and kind eyes shone. Metal was pleasantly surprised to see her looking joyful.

“Can you get up?” he heard Tails ask. Metal Sonic sat up, shifting his legs over the side of the bench with his back to them. Tails circled around to face him, pulling a stand toward him with an attached clipboard. “Great! Try that arm out.” Metal looked to his left. His arm appeared just the same as his right one- no barbed edges or exposed circuitry. He rotated his shoulder backwards, meeting no resistance. Tails took notes, instructing Metal Sonic to bend his arm and each of his fingers, then to rotate his ankle and point his foot. He stood on it without issue and had no problem balancing himself. Everything was operating correctly.

Tails pointed to Metal’s left arm with his pen. “Can you extend it?”

Metal tried to lengthen the telescoping wire, but struggled. After a few seconds, the arm jutted out and fell to the floor limply. He heard Amy’s soft gasp from behind him before she scuttered around front and stood next to Tails.

“Hmm. Thought that might happen. Sorry, I don’t have enough experience with that tech. You’ll have to give me more time.” He scribbled more on his notepad before returning to his computer

Metal was able to reel his arm back into place slowly. He watched it snake on the ground before it reached all the way back into its socket. At that moment, he felt a hand on his and turned upward to meet Amy’s gaze. “I’m sorry that didn’t work, but I’m happy you’re in one piece.” Metal glanced down at his hand. She felt warm. He then looked back to her and did the best impression of a “thank you” that could be sung with mechanical chimes.

“You’re welcome.” They were each surprised to hear her say that. Could she understand him? Amy excitedly laced her fingers with his, giggling at the thought. 

Tails cleared his throat from his desk. “I don’t know what you’re saying thank you for when I fixed him single handedly,” Tails teased.

Amy let go of Metal abruptly, crossing her arms. “I could've helped if you’d let me!”

Tails snickered at this before Amy’s snarl intensified and he found it best to change the subject . “Well if you two are done, I still have to talk to Metal about something. C’mere.”

Amy sauntered behind the multitude of screens with Metal on her heels. What appeared to be x-rays lined the monitors. “This is Metal’s core,” Tails explained. “There’s a huge crack in the armature here. It’ll need welding.”

Amy raised a hand over her mouth at the realization. Her eyebrows curled in guilt. She knew that the damage was from their battle two days earlier; and she had helped Sonic deal the finishing blow. The beam that ran up and down Metal’s head and torso like a spine was cracked in two places. 

“I don’t think I can do it with this cast, so you’ll have to wait a few weeks. II’ll let you know when I’m ready. Oh, and avoid water for now- some snow must have seeped into your system from the cracks and damaged a few things.” Tails explained it all very indifferently. “You’ll be pretty waterproof once I fix it.”

Tails spoke a bit more about the repairs he’d made and what still needed to be done. With his memory, with his body, how he’d refueled the robot and other upkeep. Amy found herself panicking as she listened to the extensive list of things that needed to be done, knowing much of it was on her conscience. Metal noticed her panic, looking from her back to the black and white screen. 

She had to take a deep breath to avoid losing her composure. “Thank you, Tails. I think we should head home.”

Tails let out a yawn and looked at the time. It was close to midnight. He’d spent the day focused on everything but himself, and realized suddenly how hungry and tired he was. “Alright. The jacket’s by the lab door.”

“Hey, make sure you get some rest.” Amy pleaded. Tails had a habit of overworking himself.

He stretched out his arms. “I will.”

Amy went in for a side hug that Tails returned. “I mean it, go to sleep this time,” she smiled.

“Alright, don’t worry,” he chuckled. 

Amy and metal saw themselves out, picking his jacket up from a coat hook by the door. Metal was able to slip it on himself. He thought it felt weird to put on clothes, but was pleased he could do it himself. The pair strode out the front door, Amy bracing herself before crossing the threshold. The opening snapped closed behind them and they took off down the hill. The night was cold but clear. Amy shoved her hands deep into her pockets for warmth. “Let’s take the long way,” she suggested. Metal emulated her by slipping his own hands into the pockets of his thin jacket and nodded. The two strode the short way home quietly, under a dark sky dotted with lustrous stars.

.................................................

Notes: I’m going to start adding the tag “metamy unfamiliar” in case anyone wants to follow it (but I would greatly appreciate a blog follow, too ❤️)

[identityexcavationstation]

The High Fidelity Remake is Good and my Identity is Irreversibly Linked to Music Consumption

Hi! So, I’m kinda insane about playlists.

This year I’ve made a lot of them. They’ve been short and snappy on index cards, scanned and pasted in a book and uploaded to the internet. (I’ve really fallen in love with index card playlists and they’re my thing now and I think everyone should do them always and forever.) They were easy to churn out as a retrospective exercise because the music I listened to as a teenager really defined my high school experience. Also, I have most of my favorite songs from that period in a very dramatic playlist I started in 2014 so it was really a game of copy-and-paste. 

Making these smol boys in batches has been a really peculiar experience because for years now, I’ve only made one playlist at a time. In my second semester of college, I’d officially burned myself out listening to only CHVRCHES for three months and began venturing elsewhere. (Don’t get me wrong, CHVRCHES absolutely bangs, but you can only listen to “Never Ending Circles” so many times before getting seasick.) All of the random songs I was listening to made me feel kinda hazy and purple, like I’d done all of this before. So I made a playlist full of them and called it “Deja Vu.”

I added to it all semester, and then suddenly it was summer and I didn’t feel purple and hazy anymore⁠—everything was blue and crisp on the way to South Haven as my friend blasted “Settle Down” by Kimbra in her beat-up Honda. So I started a new playlist and named it the first word that popped into my head: “Roots.”

Using Deja Vu as a rubric, I developed some ground rules for the playlists I would go on to create. They are pretty nonsensical but also exceedingly firm because if I don’t make rules for every area of my life I feel like I’m falling into a deep and limitless void. Health! Anyway, the rules are:

The playlist’s title has to be a short noun (seven letters maximum).

This has since transformed into a noun that is also a verb.

To generate a title, I ask myself what short word I would use to describe the phase of life I’m currently in. The answer comes quickly and reflexively, and I choose the very first word I think of.

One song per artist, no repeats!

Exceptions are made for artists who are featured on a track.

There have been times when I’ve obsessively listened to a whole album or an artist’s entire discography, so I have to choose just one song that represents the very best of that album or artist.

Tracks are added chronologically, based on when I first hear them and/or start listening to them compulsively.

The playlist has to contain an amount of tracks that is divisible by five.

If a song in a playlist is deleted from Spotify, I have to find a replacement asap that is accurate to what I was listening to when that playlist was being created.

and, most importantly, 

I can’t make a new playlist until I feel I’m finished with the current one.

These playlists represent seasons of my life, cycles in which I change and evolve and stagnate and fuck up and try again. The only rule I have for beginning a new playlist is that I feel done with the current one—those songs are a little stale and don’t represent me anymore. These “seasons” don’t have any set length, and I can never predict when I’ll feel like a new being who needs new songs to define her. So far, my life has looked like this:

Deja Vu - 176 days (12.03.16 - 05.28.17) Most common lyrics: now, love, time, need, take

snow that covers ivy that covers bricks, towers made from dining hall dishes, smiling at the bus stop without knowing, sheet masks in the dorm bathroom at 2am, pink string lights and pink crocheted blankets and pink shag carpeting, cheap beer behind tarps and walking everyone home

Roots - 111 days (05.28.17 - 09.16.17)  Most common lyrics: love, one, give, wanna, know

t-shirt tan lines, mozzarella and tomato and basil and singed spaghetti, sunset walks around abandoned high schools, green leaves outlined in watercolor, the smell of mildew and old paper in banker’s boxes, sweat-soaked french braids, the knife twist of eye contact, tarot readings under lamplight

Walls - 110 days (09.16.17 - 01.04.18)   Most common lyrics: wanna, know, baby, take, feel

crying in the gender-neutral restroom, pretty boys holding guitars or rolling rock, photos in the forest, blue carpeting and lofted bedframes, pitch-black bonfires, sitting in the dining hall to just watch the people pass, snow on eyelashes in large wet clumps, laughing at lies

Bite - 78 days (01.04.18 - 03.23.18)    Most common lyrics: know, love, stay, come, need

impatience at the airport, texting on the laundry room floor, nervous night drives, five grilled cheese sandwiches, acne like freckles, ceiling photos taken in secret, watercolor lines and paper houses, broken glass on the sidewalk, ink-stained forearms, notebook paper comics, writing small on basement walls

Windows - 131 days (03.23.18 - 08.01.18)   Most common lyrics: love, now, know, baby, fall

books piled up by the bed, rum and coke and orange juice and vodka and cheap white wine, rainy day night walks, streetlights turning the leaves orange, echoes from the party upstairs, solo trips to the grocery store, always leaving the blinds open, aperol and chai lattes and smørrebrød, never coming home

Grip - 136 days (08.01.18 - 12.15.18)    Most common lyrics: know, boy, lost, girl, night

read receipts, the creaking of an empty house, sand and bricks and traffic cones, sitting on the curb and shaking, applause at dinner, bubble tea, bike rides in torn jeans, mr brightside blasting at 10am, doodles during lectures, embroidery at the kitchen table, blue bus panic attacks, half an apple for lunch

Wait - 117 days (12.15.18 - 04.11.19)  Most common lyrics: heart, want, one, back, know

crying in the lobby, measuring oats by the quarter cup, drunken voice memos, shoes on power lines, another bowl of granola, reading all the lyrics, photos taken with the flash on, sleeping on strange couches, shoeboxes full of photographs, wire catching the sunlight, fifteen minutes of windchill

Wave - 108 days (04.11.19 - 07.28.19)  Most common lyrics: wanna, know, now, love, come

dancing on the porch, reading on the roof, tipsy trips to the corner store, silent heavy parlor air, chocolate cake with peanut butter frosting, barred windows and string lights and exit signs, highlighting the important parts, nails tapping on wooden tables, wet wind before the storm, biking straight into the smoke

Home - 178 days (07.28.19 - 01.22.20)   Most common lyrics: down, know, now, wanna, think

steep downhill walks, fingertips covered in graphite and lead, blank faces on green walls, forest walkways, hands gripping thighs too tightly, light leaks in darkrooms, the handwriting of strangers, chains trapped between teeth, white words left unread, twirling at the tennis court, yellow becoming blue

Hand - 63 days (01.22.20 - 03.25.20)   Most common lyrics: know, time, love, die, back

masking tape messages, laughing four shots in, BiC .07mm HB mechanical pencils slipped into coat cuffs, cheeks blushed with red ink, green floodlights and kissed knuckles, windows fogged from the inside, falling asleep with earbuds in, finger guns and everything in boxes, wedging open locked doors

_______________________________________________________________________

It’s interesting to look back at these playlists altogether, see them as self-contained units, little stories I tell about myself, about the people I used to be. Adding a song to one of these playlists was like making a vow, entering a relationship with a collection of sounds. It’s like I was saying “this song is now a part of me.” I constructed this little world for myself in the space between my ears, and it, in turn, created me.

I really mean it when I say that the first word that floats to the front of my mind becomes the title of whatever playlist I’m making. I never question what the word means, and its meaning always ends up describing that season of my life. 

“Roots” became a period of reconnecting with essential pieces of myself I thought I had abandoned. 

During “Grip,” I was holding on so tightly to things that had left me ages ago, and I think I knew that, even if I was unable to admit it to myself. 

“Wait” revealed itself in two ways: it was a time in which 1.) I felt stagnant and restless, unable to be patient, and 2.) I was forced to grasp with a physical and emotional weight that had been bearing down on me. 

The mind is a magical thing—it processes what we refuse to recognize. 

Speaking of which, these playlist covers have been driving me up the wall for ages. They’re like nails on a freaking chalkboard for my synesthesia. Is “Bite” a heavily blue playlist? Sure. But is “Home” purple? Is “Grip” pink??? I think the fuck not! 

(I could do a whole goddamn blog post on synesthesia, and I might.)

Now that I know how to switch out playlist cover art (can you believe it’s taken me this long to figure out how to do that?), I have decided to issue myself a challenge/project/way to procrastinate actual work I have to do. 

I’d like to make a piece of cover art for all of the above playlists. And because I am, to reiterate, insane, I’m setting up some Rules For Creation:

All works must be the same size, on the same type of paper using similar materials (tbd but probably graphite, colored pencil, watercolor, fineliners, and/or collage).

The preliminary sketch for each cover must be created while listening to the playlist.

Each piece can (must?) incorporate the five most common lyrics as listed above because goddammit I did not spend four hours compiling lyrics in a web-based word cloud generator for nothing.

If I’m not having fun, I won’t make myself do it because this is literally just for laffs. 

Anyway, I’m looking forward to creating some fun weird art! I know nobody is gonna read this and nobody is gonna comment but if, by some miracle, you feel like it, comment a playlist you’ve made that you’re really proud of! Or comment if you have some weird playlist rules! Or cyberbully me! Anything’s fair game. 

TL;DR playlists are fun and I’m a maniac :)

[littlelovelymemes]

(    *    & .    ---    ‘   YOU   ’   (   NOVEL   )   SENTENCE  STARTERS .

*   starters  from  the  2014  novel  ‘   you   ’   by  caroline  kepnes .   warnings  for  sex ,   violence ,   stalking ,   &   swearing .

‘  you  blush  and  i  could  love  you .  ’

‘  most  people  would  say  i’m  the  fuckup .  ’

‘  it’s  no  secret  that  most  people  are  fucking  idiots .  ’

‘  he’s  a  pretentious  fuck  and  a  liar .  ’

‘  you  need  an  escort ,  especially  if  you  want  to  dress  like  a  fucking  whore .  ’

‘  i  like  that  you  take  care  of  yourself  instead  of  filling  your  home  and your  pussy  with  a  string  of  inadequate  men .  ’

‘  you’re  a  sweetheart .  you  see  the  best  in  people .  you  complement  me .  ’

‘  who  can  sleep  with  you  in  the  world ?  ’

‘  i  will  take  that  balloon  and  tie  it  around  their  neck  because  who  the  fuck  can  cunt  out  over  a  balloon ?!  ’

‘  the  assholes  are  always  puzzled  when  the  order  of  the  universe  is  restored ,  when  they  are  held  accountable  for  their  cowardly ,  pretentious ,  loveless  ways .  ’

‘  some  guys  are  assholes  and  you  have  to  accept  that .  ’

‘  the  problem  with  books  is  that  they  end .  ’

‘  the  only  thing  crueler  than  a  cage  so  small  that  a  bird  can’t  fly  is  a  cage  so  large  that  a  bird  thinks  it  can  fly .  ’

‘  you  are  not  easily  rescued .  ’

‘  yeah , i  don’t  have  a  yale  degree ,  but  my  bullshit  detector  is  excellent .  top  drawer ,  even .  ’

‘  the  world  fell  out  of  love  with  love  at  some  point .  ’

‘  your  lips  were  made  for  mine .  you  are  the  reason  i  have  a  mouth ,  a  heart .  ’

‘  if  we  were  teenagers ,  i  could  kiss  you .  ’

‘  you  ooze  joy  and  she  is  an  open  wound ,  shrill  and  wan ,  unfucked  and  unloved .  ’

‘  she  knew  she  was  killing  me  and  she  knew  that  i  was  not  the  type  to  go  down  without  a  fight .  ’

‘  i  know  the  power  of  silence .  i  remember  my  dad  saying  nothing  and  i  remember  his  silences  more  vividly  than  i  remember  the  things  he  said .  ’

‘  happiness  is  believing  that  you’re  gonna  be  happy .  it’s  hope .  ’

‘  but  did  you  read  them ,  fuckface ?  ’

‘  if  people  could  handle  their  self - loathing ,  customer  service  would  be  smoother .  ’

‘  the  trouble  with  society  is  that  if  the  average  person  knew  about  us  --  you ,  alone ,  orgasming  three  times  a  night ,  and  me ,  across  the  street ,  watching  you  orgasm ,  alone  --  most  people  would  say  i’m  the  fuckup .  ’

‘  you  are  a  woman  and  i  am  a  man  and  we  belong  in  the  dark  together .  ’

‘  talking  to  you  is  like  traveling  through  time .  ’

‘  the  most  important  thing  i  know  is  that  i  want  the  possibility  of  you  more  than  the  reality  of  her .  ’

‘  my  middle  school  health  teacher  told  us  you  can  only  hold  eye  contact  for  ten  seconds  before  scaring  or  seducing  someone .  ’

‘  eye  contact  is  what  keeps  us  civilized .  ’

‘  love’s  a  marathon ,  not  a  sprint .  ’

‘  well ,  sometimes  you  just  want  to  go  where  it’s  dark ,  you  know ?  ’

‘  some  people ,  it’s  like  they  care  more  about  their  status  updates  than  their  actual  lives .  ’

‘  some  people  on  this  earth  receive  love ,  get  married ,  and  honeymoon  in  cabo .  others  do  not .  some  people  read  alone  on  the  sofa  and  some  people  read  together ,  in  bed .  that’s  life .  ’

‘  don’t  make  a  baby  if  you’re  not  capable  of  unconditional  love .  ’

‘  when  i’m  nervous ,  i  get  nasty .  it’s  a  problem .  ’

‘  that’s  because  every  day  is  the  only  day .  ’

‘  she’s  dead  inside ,  like  a  corpse .  she  instagrams  methodically ,  clinically ,  as  if  she’s  gathering  evidence  for  defense ,  like  her  entire  life  is  dedicated  to  proving  that  she  has a  life .  ’

‘  we’re  too  old  to  be  young .  ’

‘  full  of  disclaimers ,  you’re  like  a  warning  label  on  a  pack  of  cigarettes .  ’

‘  if  you  knew  what  i  went  through  to  get  into  your  home ,  that  i  messed  up  my  back  trying  to  know  you ,  inside  and  out ,  you’d  judge  me  for  it .  ’

‘  when  a  girl  likes  talking  about  you  more  than  talking  to  you ,  well ,  in  my  experience ,  that’s  the  end .  ’

‘  you  grow  through  love .  you  don’t  postpone  love  until  you  stop  growing .  ’

‘  you  know  they’re  all  pussies ,  each  and  every  one  of  ‘em .  ’

‘  most  kids  are  assholes ,  just  like  most  adults .  ’

‘  it’s  like  they  can  smell  the  public  school  on  me .  ’

‘  who  can  sleep  with  you  in  the  world ?  ’

‘  he’s  been  to  rehab ,  which  is  a  travesty  ;  you  can  tell  by  his  smug  face  that  he’s  not  capable  of  genuine  addiction .  ’

‘  there’s  emptiness  in  him  that  can  never  be  filled ,  emptiness  that  dressed  up  well  at  prep  school ,  where  a  lack  of  willpower  is  called  creativity .  ’

‘  what  a  shame  to  be  so  angered  by  what  you  don’t  have  that  you  treat  what  you  do  have  like  it’s  nothing .  ’

‘  i  think  that  all  children  do  better  with  happy  parents  than  married  parents .  ’

‘  brunch ,  a  meal  invented  by  rich  white  chicks  to  rationalize  day  drinking  and  bingeing  on  french  toast .  ’

‘  you  are  a  monster ,  deathly ,  solipsistic  to  the  bone  and  you’re  blasphemous  because  all  you  want  is  you .  ’

‘  is  your  twitter  bio  your  subtle  way  of  announcing  that  you’re  an  attention  whore  who  has  no  standards  and  will  give  an  audience  to  any  poor  schmuck  who  says  hello ?  ’

‘  you  miss  me .  and  i  miss  you .  ’

‘  i  cry  and  watch  pitch  perfect  and  sing  along  with  the  barden  bellas .  i  don’t  want  to  be  a person  who  knows  the  name  of  a  fictional  a  cappella  group  in  a  chick  flick  but  that’s  what  love  has  done  to  me .  ’

‘  it’s  amazing  how  good  50  and  sunny  feels  after  you’ve  been  bleeding  in  12  with a  windchill  of  go  fuck  yourself .  ’

‘  you  want  to  know  what  i  know  and  hear  what  i  like  to  hear .  ’

‘  you  relax  your  arms  and  lower  your  legs  and  when  animals  open  up  like  that ,  they  want  to  fuck .  ’

‘  i’ll  fucking  kill  hugh  grant .  ’

‘  life  isn’t  always  ideal ,  not  for  most  people .  ’

‘  what  makes  us  become  us ?  what  fucks  us  up  and  why ?  ’

‘  i  want  life  to  move  slowly  because  i  want  to  anticipate  you  with  all  my  heart ,  greet  you  with  all  my  heart ,  fuck  you  with  all  my  heart ,  and  miss  you  with  all  my  heart .  ’

‘  i  have  to  laugh  because  i  sound  like  a  greeting  card  but  i  deserve  this ,  you ,  joy .  ’

‘  i  hope  you’ll  ask  me  to  eat  you  out  in  the  bathroom  at  starbucks .  ’

‘  he  cheats  on  you .  a  lot .  compulsively .  ’

‘  it  means  you  covet  me .  maybe  even  more  than  i  realize  since  right  now  your  hand  is  heading  to  your  cunt  yet  again .  ’

‘  you’re  so  clean  that  you’re  dirty .  ’

‘  they’re  in  their  own  world ,  where  good  things  happen ,  a  quarter  mile  and  a  million  light  years  away .  ’

‘  night  moves  don’t  work  in  the  morning .  ’

‘  you  don’t  want  to  be  spanked .  you  want  love .  ’

‘  dear  girl ,  you’re  not  an  island .  be  populated .  be  welcoming  to  love .  ’

[foccaccia]

it never ceases to be hilarious when people around the world find out just what kind of weather we live in, up in my neck of the american midwest.

like, winters regularly hit -20 degrees fahrenheit (-28C), and thats not including windchill. of course, around here, where the winds are usually 7-15 mph (11-24 kph) on an average day and can go into 40 or even 50 mph (64-80 kph) on the worse days, you really fucking need to include windchill. with that, the 'real feel' some fun winter days can be -40 to -60 degrees fahrenheit(-40 - -51C), and often hover at -20F on the nice pretty days where walking across campus just means you probably need gloves and cant get away with just sticking your hands in your pockets.

snow? we average about 50 inches (1.3m) of snow per year, and once winter is in earnest a lot of that doesnt melt for a good long time. its always fun seeing some snowpiles, after the roads are plowed, as tall as two-story houses. i particularly love walking to the bus stop to get to class the day after a blizzard and struggling over the 7 foot (2.1m) snowbanks, because the roads are plowed but the sidewalks arent yet but they didnt cancel class, why would they??? its not blizzarding anymore.

its always fun to do the rounds of 'whos car is actually working in the cold right now because its the kind of cold where if youre not covered up you can get frostbite in a minute and no one should be leaving the apartment at all, but we really want pizza rolls and alcohol so its time to go to the corner store'.

theres so many little things we do and think about. how to keep the pipes from freezing. how do we layer up but like, not fuck up our hair, still look cute. keep the roofs and the apartment balconies from collapsing under the weight of snow. wool, salt, three layers of socks, and shoes with treads, the little shuffle you do across the ice because theres no actual sidewalk anymore. just ice as far as the eye can see. how to park, how to drop off the people on the passenger side a bit early because heres a good place to get out of the car, otherwise youre climbing into snow. rotating street parking for the snowplows. what to do when you hit black ice - because you will hit black ice, honey, youre never gonna see it coming.

and damn, but youve never seen anyone as happy as a bunch of midwesterners when it hits 30 degrees fahrenheit (-1C) in '''spring'''. its a genuine heat wave.

and honestly, as im typing this, i cannot imagine people who find any of this weird or unusual. i know most of the world lives in far warmer climates. but like... i cant imagine living somewhere where half an inch of snow means anything at all, where 40 degrees (4C) is considered genuinely cold and glasses dont fog up when you come inside. when i was a kid at my tiny shitty elementary school, we didnt have a playground, we had a parking lot, and winters were the best because if you brought snow pants and other necessary accoutrements you got to play on the huge fuckin snow pile during recess.

okay, you might say. okay, youre a fuckin polar bear, cool.

well yknow it also hits like, 90-100 degrees fahrenheit (32-37C) here in the summer too, right? maybe we're not as muggy as some of yall southerners, and our summers are w a y shorter, but it does get hot here too.

and dont even get me STARTED on tornado season. lime green skies and sirens, baby, and years of drills in school where kids huddle in lines of hundreds, crouched on knees against the wall with hands over their necks and heads. first wednesday of every month we hear that test siren go off.

like... this is all normal. apparently according to a lot of yall this is super weird, and its kind of hilarious seeing people flip out, but its... just life.

[thetriggeredhappy]

15 for speeding bullet cause I’m a sucker for the way you write them

hell yea man!! (warnings for cuddling and sappy shit)

15.) “When I’m with you, I’m home.”

Coldfront was, speaking completely objectively, the worst place on earth.

Now, Scout knew cold. He was better off than most of the team when it came to cold, beaten only by Heavy (three steps away from a literal actual bear) and Pyro (who Scout wasn’t even completely convinced felt pain, let alone things like temperature). Growing up in Boston, so close to the seaboard, family unable to pay the heating bill every other year and with hole-filled hand-me-downs as his only option for clothing, it made him get used to feeling cold really quickly. He knew when to start pulling on two pairs of socks and a second t-shirt under his jacket to keep warm, knew to eat a hot meal whenever possible and keep out of the wind and to only start worrying about his extremities the moment they stopped aching with cold. He knew cold.

But Coldfront, in the dead of winter, was cold cold. Frostbite-after-twenty-minutes-of-exposure kinds of cold. Negative-twenty-windchill-in-the-height-of-day kinds of cold. Heavy-putting-on-gloves kinds of cold.

The fact that they almost always got stationed in Coldfront for at least part of the winter every year was what started to convince him that their boss straight up hated them.

He always felt especially bad for Sniper when they were stationed in Coldfront. He didn’t know how to stand to best hold in body heat or to take off your jacket to thermoregulate when indoors, and didn’t ever really have major cold to deal with anyways. He was born and bred and built for raw, sweltering, pavement-boiling heat, and couldn’t do cold. The first year they ended up in Coldfront, the first night ended with Respawn firing up at one in the morning and Sniper stumbling out of it, having frozen to death in his camper while he slept. He was left cold and miserable from the weather, and horribly stressed since he could no longer sleep in his camper and instead had to bunk with everyone else, something he was very much not used to.

A necessity of the cold was having the mercs pair up and share rooms during the worst of the cold half the time, as only some rooms had heating or stoves or fireplaces, and there weren’t enough for everyone to have one room for each of them, and they needed the additional bodies to heat rooms even that much more.

Once Scout and Sniper became… best buddies, it was unspoken that if everyone was going to be rooming together, they’d pair up to share, an immediate improvement of the previous arrangement of Demo and Soldier and Scout sharing a room, with Soldier and Scout getting in fistfights frequently enough for Engie to stick a dispenser in the hall outside and Demo being enabled to drink even more than usual once he had people who were willing to drink with him on hand at all times.

The room had two twin beds, but right up front, the two of them pushed the twins together to make one large bed, already knowing they would end up sharing.

Scout finished off his nightly routine by shoving more wood into the stove that stood inconveniently in the middle of one wall, then moving to get under the three quilts they’d piled on the bed to join Sniper. Sniper didn’t hesitate to pull Scout over, as he was growing used to. Sniper was faintly shivering, even under the blankets, and had informed Scout on more than one occasion that he was like if a hot water bottle was a person. Scout was okay with dealing with Sniper’s cold hands for the sake of cuddles, not that he’d ever say it out loud. He had a reputation to keep.

With their combined body heat, the cold of the room was chased away fairly quickly from under their multiple blankets, and soon they were left feeling toasty for the first time since the previous night. Sniper’s shivering faded away, and he slowly started untensing, Scout helping him along by kneading at his shoulders idly. He gave a soft noise of approval, well and truly sinking into Scout.

“Y’know the one good thing about this awful place?” Sniper murmured, voice muffled by the pillow he’d buried his face in.

Scout hummed in question.

“Get the excuse to hold you like this all the time,” he said. Scout’s heart swelled in his chest, and he felt a goofy smile pull at his cheeks despite his best efforts.

“Sappy,” he chided quietly, holding him a bit tighter for a second.

“Maybe.”

Scout chewed on a thought for a few seconds, considering whether he would be laughed at if he said it. Given how cheesy Sniper had just been, he doubted he would, but he did think about it for a minute regardless.

“Y’know,” Scout finally said, making up his mind, “I remember when I was a kid, we, uh, there were some years when we didn’t have heating. There was this one winter when I was little—like little little—when we didn’t have heat an’ it got real cold at night, and so one night I just, went into Ma’s room and asked to share with her for the night because it was so freakin’ cold. A few of my brothers—we, uh, shared a room, y’know?—wanted to know where I ran off to when I didn’t come back, an’ they ended up sharin’ too. We ended up with like, the four youngest an’ Ma all piled on a queen-sized for the night. It was, uh…” He realized all at once that he probably sounded ridiculous. “…It was nice.”

Sniper hummed, and it was quiet for a second. “Did somethin’ similar as a tyke. M’dad hated it. Thought it’d make me soft, headed to share the bed with my mum every time I heard the dogs barkin’ outside tryin’ to send up the alarm about some predator or another wandering too close.” A short pause again. “And maybe it did. Dunno. Did help at the time, though.”

“I just had my brothers for that sorta thing,” Scout hummed. “I ever woke up from a nightmare, I’d just be in a room with like at least five dudes who all could and practically have scalped a guy for pickin’ on me. Upside of bein’ the youngest. And if I ever did call in Ma on someone, that’s, uh, yikes. She takes no hostages.”

“Your mum sounds pretty great,” Sniper said.

“So’s yours,” Scout replied.

A pause. “Yeah. Most’a the time,” he agreed carefully.

Scout tilted his head a bit. “What’s the hesitation?”

Another pause, longer. “Just… she did… her best,” he said, just as carefully. “She couldn’t help… the, the fact that I was… fact that I am, just…”

Scout tilted his head a bit further, but Sniper pulled him closer, keeping his face out of sight.

“She couldn’t help that there’s somethin’ not right with me, and she tried to help me work around it,” he finally settled on. “Did what she could. Didn’t kick me out. Still… talks to me an’ all, even though I ran off.”

Scout frowned. “Not right with you?”

Sniper shook his head lightly, exhaling. “It’s a lot. I’ll… explain later,” he said. “I just wanna enjoy this.”

Scout was still grappling with the concept of not being unconditionally fond of one’s family. His brothers pissed him off, sure, and he sometimes went a good week or so being mad at them, but he would never hesitate to say that they were good overall (except to their faces). No matter how annoyed he was with them, he would never waste a second jumping into a fight to defend their honor, just as they always did for him. The thought of not having that was…

It made his chest hurt to think about. He didn’t get it.

“Don’t you miss them?” he asked quietly. “Don’t you miss being home, and… and goin’ around town seeing what all’s the same, what’s different, and… and talkin’ about what all the neighbors have gotten up to, and what the latest drama is, and…”

Sniper shrugged lightly, careful not to dislodge Scout. The motion did move the blankets just slightly, and a tiny burst of air flooded into their haven under the blankets, surprisingly refreshing. “Never really had that,” he said quietly. “Town was a while away from the farm. A good few miles’ walk got me to school if I cut through the brush, but town was always a drive. And the house was… the house was work, usually, shepherding, takin’ care of the land, the few non-sheep we had. I suppose I have the van, but that was always just me, and I was always moving.”

“But what was home?” Scout insisted, a grief sinking into his chest at the prospect Sniper was explaining.

Sniper was quiet for a few moments, thinking, and just that pause made his chest ache even worse. “Dunno what makes somethin’ count as one,” he admitted, voice gravelly.

Scout thought for a second. “Just… somewhere safe, somewhere that makes you… feel good. Like, like you’re allowed to relax, like you can just… be, like nothin’s gonna go wrong, and… like you’re…” He took another second. “Like you can just recharge there, and if somethin’ does go wrong, that’s where you can go to recover. It’s… a place you know, and it’s reliable, and it’s safe.”

Sniper was silent. Contemplating. Scout counted a good dozen heartbeats before he spoke again.

“When I’m with you, I’m home,” Sniper finally said, voice quieter than ever before, and all at once Scout was paralyzed. He tried to pull back enough to look at Sniper, but Sniper wouldn’t budge.

“Hey. Look at me,” Scout requested, hand stroking over Sniper’s back in what he hoped was a soothing motion. Sniper did pull back after a second, and Scout cupped his cheek cautiously, aware that suddenly this moment became fragile, that breaking it might just be irreparable. He chose his words carefully. “I’m gonna be the kinda home you’ve got for a long time, alright?” he said softly.

Sniper had to break eye contact, blinking a few times, stubbornly holding back the wetness in his eyes, swallowing hard. “Thank you,” he said, voice thick despite his best efforts.

“Hey. I mean it,” Scout said, tilting his head to get back in Sniper’s line of sight. He tried for a smile. “You’re stuck with me.”

That got him a smile and eye contact, at least for a moment, before Sniper pulled him back into an embrace. “I hope so,” he said. He took a breath, exhaled shakily. “God, I hope so.”

[kidblink-182]

the lightning thief tour

i saw the lightning thief last night and hOLY SHIT! JUST HOLY SHIT! click the read more for my notes n stagedoor experience n shit. obvi SPOILERS

ACT ONE

-so the show starts off with a quite literal BANG i’m talking bright white light and thunder noises so chirren b careful if you go to see it -i almost screamed when james went onstage and THATS when i knew this was real -hooray for grungy dancing our parents suck -they tore down the lightning bolt curtains and chris slid out and i lost my mind -“their father kronos-” “KRONOOOOOSSSSSS” -“please see me by the sphynx” (glass display turns around from pyramid to sphynx) -“i was on this field trip, and the x-rated art they had there? crazy.” -percy is literally so flamboyant and so sarcastic i was cracking up the whole two hours -james as gabe oh so help me gods -he sounded so desperate/afraid the whole time -“BEAN. DIP.” on the literal verge of tears -i loved sally so much. she can riff like it’s nobody’s business, and i can never get enough of it. i love carrie but jalynn... oh, jalynn. -“oh look. a goat in a trash can.” -classic “you’re a furry” joke. classic 10/10 -“i’m half goat!” “i’m sorry, this is just a lot to take in right now, okay?” -they did sally’s “death” in slow motion, which made it even more hard to watch. -also BIG FUCKING SEIZURE WARNING FOR THE MINOTAUR SCENE THAT SHIT IS INTENSE -i.... don’t know how to feel about poseidon. ryan literally goes to the bottom of his vocal range for poseidon and it’s the funniest shit (my mom loved it), and he’s like... he’s like a demon surfer. lowkey like jonathan raviv’s poseidon a lil better but ryan? oh gods he’s incredible. he’s the only man who can pull off hawaiian shirts. -annabeth comes in one of those wheel cart things you use to haul heavy shit -“another terrible day” in E minor? oddly needed and very refreshing. -chiron’s “reveal” scene was... interesting to say the least. -their sign :( my fave song of the show. so emotional. chiron puts his hand on percy’s shoulder at one point, percy shows so much emotion, and ryan can sing like an ANGEL i love his vibrato -when luke came on stage i literally whooped so loudly -oh gods there was this one scene luke: welcome to the dysfunctional family! oh, there’s someone who wants to see you grover: percy, i’m so sorry. satyrs are supposed to be protectors. i’m the worst satyr in the world. percy: grover, i’m so glad you’re here right now. then they hug and i sob -“it’s not a lightsaber” -oh btw jorrel is SO DAMN CUTE -clarisse’s battlecry is my energy -RYAN IS IN DRAG THIS ISN’T A DRILL RYAN IS IN DRAG AND IT’S SO EASY TO RECOGNIZE HIM BUT IT’S THE BEST THING TO WATCH -HE LITERALLY “HITS” HIS CROTCH WITH HIS AXE BY ACCIDENT -percy wheels himself in on the toilet. QT. -“she could’ve killed me!” “the plan would have worked either way.” -grover did a cute lil tap dance in “i’m the child of pan” -while crying you just hear grover go I DON’T LIKE THIS SONG ANYMORE then just keeps fucking dancing -“as long as you are here with me puts arm around percy” -“mr d wants to kill you- i mean, talk to you” -“it’s not just some silly lightning bolt on a traveling musical tour!” -“look at the boy! he’s hardly a thief!” “oh, i suppose, unless you’re a good actor, and OHOHOHOHO, i’m the god of drama, and i can say HE’S NOT.” -mr d’s obsession with dolphins is my will to live -the oracle is actually really fucking silly bc of everyone hiding under her dress -“AND YOU SHALL FAIL” “spirit fingers FAIIILLLLLLLLLL” -oh god good kid was making me feel things. the emotion, the lighting, the fog, the music, i was on the verge of tears. chris is so talented. -“if you’re the son of poseidon and you wanna be alone, don’t go to the lake. it’s the first place they look. don’t worry, i won’t tell chiron you’re here.” -“and i’ll be the second first! :D” -annabeth does a riff on her high note of QUEST and we don’t talk about it enough

ACT TWO

-RYAN AS AUNTIE EM IS THE REASON I GET OUT OF BED IN THE MORNING. -“i had a boyfriend... deep voice ONCE.” -he kept moving his hips and dropping into a deep voice and moving his hips and i was sure i was gonna die -“nemesis... nemesees.... nemisisises... WE DON’T LIKE EACH OTHER.” -perc+grov literally pulled a dirty dancing so percy could chop off her head. -“but it wasn’t your fault.” “you’re right, it’s yours.” -kristen’s vocals were stellar as usual and they used this badass lighting to make it look like sunlight was pokin out through windows as lil disco lights. -oh btw i was blinded like 3214732148904722 times but idgaf -“i know a way to get our parents to notice us HELP ME BOX THIS HEAD” -“care of: ~perseus jackson~ and ANNABETH C H A S E.” -was ares wearing a tracksuit? what the literal- -HKJFDSALK grover pulled his hair up during the slomo part and it stuck upright -percy’s like “i swallowed a bug” -“i’m gonna pass out... pass out... p a s s  o u t.” -KRONOS MADE ME ALMOST PISS MYSELF IT’S SO CREEPY WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK -grover shakes him awake like “you really do drool in your sleep,,,,” -in tree on the hill jorrel was actually sobbing and chris got up at one point to go to him and it was so touching -the scene above them made my heart ache too, especially the freezeframe during “maybe if i’d been a little bit braver” where thalia’s collapsed and luke and annabeth are holding each other i just... a h -charon as the elevator woman is GREAT -her riffs made me want to get up and start boogie-ing -“like? the fish sauce?” -ARGUABLY THE BEST PART OF THE SHOW WAS HADES -HE’S FUCKING GAY -LIKE FLAMINGLY FLAMBOYANT. I’M NOT EVEN KIND OF JOKING. LISP AND EVERYTHING. THERE WERE T E A R S. -ares wears a tank top in son of poseidon and i died -sally and poseidon flirted like hell and POSEIDON SHOT FINGER GUNS AND POOR PERCY WAS SO AWKAWRDHFALHFJDASFJHK -in last day of summer percy tried reaching out for luke early but luke just walked away b4 mr d came on stage -luke grabs percy by the shirt when he says “good!” and shoves him back -gods i can’t get over james’ vocals. so good. SO GOOD. -luke took the banner w him when he stabbed percy and ran -bring on the monsters was actually a huge bop and i didn’t cry like i thought i would :0 -all in all i re-lost my voice screaming over this shit and i’m so grateful i got to see it

STAGEDOOR

-so the stagedoor was super vague @ first bc i heard they weren’t doing it from a parent, but not even the staff were sure -so mom let me hang out by the stagedoor to see if ppl came out -chris came out first & i didn’t even recognize him til he was right in front of me (dramatic ass all bundled up like an eskimo) and he felt bad bc he couldn’t stay long and didn’t have a pen to sign anything but i couldn’ stop saying oH MY GOD OH MY GOD -then jorrel came out and was like “i can’t sign anything either but pics would be much quicker if you wanted them” and igOT TWO PICS WITH JORREL GUYS THIS IS NOT A DRILL -he was like “it’s so cold (findlay ohio) how do y’all live here?” and i was like “we don’t know” his dramatic southern californian ASS i loved him -i got a signature from sarah, and she was super sweet (she took the pic for me bc my fingers were numb from the cold. NEGATIVE WINDCHILL GUYS. WELCOME TO OHIO. -i asked jalynn to adopt me and shes like YALL ARE TOO SWEET and i got her signature too -i ALSO met kristen and got her signature+picture as well, idk how i wasn’t panicking but i was so flustered -someone told kristen they’d take a bullet for her and she went DON’T DO THAT -everyone else walked past and couldn’t bc of the cold but we cheered for them anyway -so yeah by the time i got in the car my fingers were literally burning and i couldn’t feel my legs but I GOT SIGNATURES AND PICTURES AND THAT’S WHAT MATTERS -i also got a t-shirt -who’s hardcore? me. i’m hardcore.

hope you guys enjoyed these notes lol

[douxreviews]

American Gods - ‘Head Full of Snow’ Review

"You believe in nothing, so you have nothing."

American Gods goes on a bank heist, in an episode that neatly balances touching sidebar stories with Shadow finally getting some empowerment, both figuratively and literally. Maybe.

The more you dig into an episode of American Gods, the more impressive it becomes just how densely layered the whole thing is. How exactly would one quickly describe this episode? Is it 'The One Where Mr. Wednesday and Shadow Rob a Bank?' Is it 'The One That Separately Introduces Salim and Anubis?' Or maybe 'The One Where Shadow (Possibly) Gets Superpowers'? The answer of course is, 'yes'. It's all of those, deftly interwoven with a number of thoughtful pauses where we contemplate the cultural meaning of Jesus(es), get a glimpse of the afterlife, and discover that Mad Sweeney should keep a better eye on his things.

That's a lot going on, and yet somehow the episode doesn't feel overcrowded, which is as neat a trick as Mr. Wednesday has ever pulled.

So, let's pull it a part a little bit and see how the pieces work. To begin with, we start where we ended last week, with Shadow having lost his head, literally, in a checkers match. Since the beginning of the series Shadow has been a victim of the various forces around him that are influencing his life, and has only been able to roll with the punches as they come at him. But that all changes in the opening sequences here through his dream encounter on the roof with Zorya Polunochnaya, the Midnight Star. Neil Gaiman has always written dream dialogue well, no pun intended, and most of the conversation they have here is lifted directly from the book to great effect. One of the most necessary skills for anyone adapting a written text into visual media is knowing what they need to change to make it work and what they should leave unchanged. Fuller, Green and company made the right call in this case.

The midnight star, a virgin as she herself points out, is about rebirth and renewal, and in that spirit she absolutely gives Shadow the fresh re-start he needs. After this he's able to outwit Czernobog by playing on his vanity and his fear of growing weak into playing a second game of checkers and beats him. Czernobog still gets to bash in his brain with his hammer, but not until after Czernobog comes along with them on Mr. Wednesday's journey. So, there's that hanging over our heads until later on in the story, then.

This metaphorical empowerment then gets a little more literal when Mr. Wednesday repeatedly urges Shadow to make it snow by thinking about snow, and then it snows. Metaphorically, structurally, and possibly literally, Shadow is learning how to affect the world around him, and there's something more than a little insidious about how Wednesday seems to be manipulating things around them to make it happen. It was nice though that both the show and Wednesday chose to leave it an open question as to whether Shadow had really made the snow or whether is was a coincidence. It's about your personal choice as to what you believe, both of them seem to be saying, and as Wednesday explicitly points out, 'First you don't believe and then you do believe, and the world changes because you do.' It's admittedly a little precious as ruminations on belief go, but the show is really drilling down into the way belief affects the shape of the world, so it works in this case. Let's just all agree not to push things by cross stitching it on a pillow.

As for the bank robbery itself, well, robbery is probably a bit of an overstatement. Although I'm sure that would technically by the charge were they arrested for it. Realistically, it's more a case of conning people out of their overnight deposits when they come to put them in the ATM. The sequence works for what it's setting out to do for a couple of reasons. First, it demonstrates that Mr. Wednesday really is a devious and manipulative con artist who's good at playing people. Second, and more surprisingly, it shows us just how smoothly and easily Shadow can roll with a situation and con people himself. What it doesn't do however is show us a way of feasibly robbing a bank, as the plan we see wouldn't have worked, even at the time of the book being published, for three major reasons. 1: Night deposits in bags like that don't go in ATMs, they go in night deposit drop slots. Or they did at the time, I confess to having been out of retail for a long time, but I think that's still the same situation. 2: Even when closed, banks have security guards, particularly a bank in Chicago on a busy street like that. At the very least they would have video monitoring that would have investigated the guy sitting in front of their ATM. 3: Most importantly, in that situation the police would call the bank, not the number on a business card they were handed by the man they were suspicious of. I'm just saying; good scene for the purposes of plot and drama, bad scene if you're trying to teach yourself how to rob banks.

We hadn't seen Mad Sweeney since the first episode, and it turns out the reason why is that he's been passed out in a public toilet all this time. We've all been there. What's more interesting is that we gradually learn that his luck appears to have left him with the gold coin he gave Shadow back in that episode. His escalating bad luck while he works that out is pretty amusing, but it's hard not to feel a little bad for guest star Scott Thompson, who takes a pipe first through his windshield and then his face solely for having tried to help out someone staggering down the road. And for a guy with that much bad luck, Sweeney certainly puts on some miles here. He starts at the Crocodile bar somewhere in Missouri-ish, gets to Chicago to find Shadow, and then has to get all the way back to Indiana. That's a lot of travel for a guy who seems to be doing most of it on foot. Did he leave behind a trail of Scott Thompson's, all ghoulishly killed in one manner of bad luck traffic accident or another?

Then we have the Somewhere in America sequences, both of which are beautiful in their own way. Mrs. Fadil, dying alone only to have Anubis stop by and kindly taste her dinner before escorting her to a gorgeously filmed afterlife was just lovely. But the longer sequence of Salim, the lonely salesman and an equally lonely Jinn who unexpectedly find a loving connection to one another was one of the most profoundly moving love stories I've ever seen in film or television. Also, wow that was a lot of graphic sex. I appreciated that the way it was filmed was neither exploitative nor apologetic about it being a same sex couple. The beauty of the interactions between Sadim and the Jinn, two beings so lonely that they've given up on even the concept of finding a connection or love, can be summed up in one exchange:

Sadim: "I wish you could see what I see." Jinn: "I do not grant wishes." Sadim: "But you do."

Just beautiful.

Quotes:

Anubis: "Your Assaf will marry in a year and name his daughter for you." Mrs. Fadil: "A Bullshit middle name?" Anubis: "A bullshit middle name."

Zorya Polunochnaya: "Kissing is disgusting, but it a nice way. Like Blue Cheese, or Brandy."

Czernobog: "All right, I’ll go with Wotan to his Wisconsin. Then I’m gonna kill you. Is good?" Shadow: "Is good."

Shadow: "Storm died." Wednesday: "No it hasn’t. We’re gonna rob a bank. Want some coffee?"

Jinn: "You try and sell shit?" Salesman: "I sell Shit yes." Jinn: "And they will not buy it?" Salesman: "No." Jinn: "Strange. Cause when you look in the stores here, that’s all they sell."

Jinn: "They know nothing about my people here. They think all we do is grant wishes. If I could grant a wish, do you think I’d be driving a cab?"

Wednesday: "Come on, learn. It’ll be fun."

Bits and Pieces:

-- If you are reading this later on, or are not from the Midwest, we just spent a week at thirty below zero. Before the windchill. This was not a great week to think 'snow'.

-- I'm not very clear whether Mrs. Fadil's skinless cat was actually Bast, or if Bast is just part of all cats and so that's why the cat got to go with to the afterlife's foyer.

-- Lots of climbing up balconies this week.

-- Zorya Polunochnaya is entirely a creation of Neil Gaiman's. I'm fairly certain she's the only instance of that in the entire book, but I might be wrong. Feel free to correct me in the comments if so, it's the only way I'll learn.

-- When Zorya P. referred to the constellation as 'Odin's Wain', I misheard it as 'Odin's Wang.' That's a very different constellation.

-- I could watch Ian McShane seduce Cloris Leachman all day. Now there's a sentence I didn't expect to be typing today.

-- I have a great anecdote about Scott Thompson, but it's not relevant to the show, so I'll throw it in the comments if anyone's interested.

-- Despite the fact that Mr. Wednesday uses them interchangeably, hot chocolate and hot cocoa are categorically not the exact same thing. This is important.

-- What was the deal with the wolf they almost hit?

-- So apparently the inference is that Mad Sweeney's lucky coin brought Laura back to life, and that's how she ended up in Shadow's motel room at the end. The bigger question to me is how did she get out of her grave without disturbing the ground? And is that the most poorly monitored cemetery in the world, or what?

-- No sign this week of Media, Technical Boy, or Bilquis. Also, three episodes in and still no sign of Crispin Glover's Mr. World

-- This week's amusing behind the scenes story; Both the actor who plays Salim and the actor who plays the Jinn are heterosexual.  As, apparently, was all of the film crew in the unit that recorded their love scene.  This, the legend goes, led to Bryan Fuller receiving the rushes for their love scene and having to tell everyone involved, 'Yeah... That's not how that works...'  After which they had to stage a remount.  That last part was not intended to be a joke, but I can't bring myself to erase it.  Let's all just be adults and move on.

A solid episode with a lot of good stuff in it, but it still suffers a bit from feeling like it's all setup for more important stuff later on.

Three out of four ATM deposits

Mikey Heinrich is, among other things, a freelance writer, volunteer firefighter, and roughly 78% water.

[verdigrisprowl]

Feb 11 Dancitron Movie Night - Venom

Due to the fact that rabb.it has fucked up its interface, it’s now impossible to copy/paste the chat more than a few lines at a time, AND it requires messing with the code to even copy/paste the names. Because I had to go the fuck to bed, @slenderwave compiled the log instead of me tonight. Thank u slendy.

Also we probably ain’t gonna have any more movie nights until we find a site without a fucked up interface.

Prowl liked the movie more than he indicated; while actually at the movie, though, he was mainly busy being shaken by the uncomfortable parallels between being Venomed and being Bombshelled/Devastatored. He probably said more to Soundwave tonight about what being under Bombshell was like than he has sum total to anyone else so far.

Specs– ((rabbit is such a shit)) Soundwave– *Soundwave–’s so on time this week it hurts. Everything’s set up, everything’s laid out, and he not only has himself parked at the edge of his couch seat, but he’s already nibbling a little silver ingot - one of several snacks on a small tray on his lap.* ((oh GOD the color)) Prowl– ((… fuck. FUCK.)) Specs– ((I had to manually type in the goddamn URL because trying to paste it in is apparently fucking illegal)) Prowl– ((you can’t copy/paste names anymore.)) SCProwl– ((ah fuck Soundwave– ((oh FUCK)) Prowl– ((it only copies the text, not the names. this is going to make logs impossible)) SCProwl– ((oh for fucks’ sake Specs– ((rabbit fucks up everything the movie)) Soundwave– ((i’ll take the logs tonight and look into how to make this work later in the week. don’t worry about it)) SCProwl– ((it looks like a text screen on a phone and i hate it Specs– ((I KNOW RIGHT)) ((oh and it doesn’t autoscroll at least for me so)) Soundwave– *Anyway, bad site design choices nobody asked for and possible future transfers to other sites if any of them are sufficient aside, here we are, and there he is, as ready as ready can be.* Swerve– //that was ridiculous and way more efort than needed rabbit Soundwave– ((deffo looking for another site before next monday. gotta see if anyone else got their shit together or if this is as good as it gets)) SCProwl– *i suppose that means she’s here as well despite rabb.it’s attempts to make that as annoying as possible* Swerve– //smokey mentioned cytube last week as an alternative? but i don’t know if they checked it out to see how it works yet Soundwave– ((noted)) *Soundwave– absently waves the little bar of silver in Prowl–’s direction as a greeting… then remembers WHICH Prowl– that is and pings her a proper Hello instead.* SCProwl– *nods and pings back before finding a place to sit* Twincast– ((*aggressively changes icon* Specs– *enter dragon! it is Palentine’s day, so she’s brought heart-shaped snacks with the Cybertronian word for “friend” carved, iced, and just generally placed on the centers. Other than the fun shape, it’s the same selection as usual. No magnets today.* Hello, Soundwave–! Windchill– (( Jesus H Crust you guys I leave for a few months and Rabbit goes to poop. More than usual. )) Twincast– ((ikr. I’m just glad the text wrap is apparently only broken on my desktop Swerve– //from what i’ve seen text wrap is more broken on firefox than chrome but seems to vary in general Soundwave– [[Greetings, dragon. Feeling filled with friendship today?]] Twincast– ((ah, yeah. I use FF exclusively, so : ’) RIP my soul *quietly enters room as if he doesn’t randomly disappear for months on end* Specs– Isn’t that human friendship holiday coming up? I don’t know if you theme for that one like you do for the human scaring holiday, but just in case, I thought I’d make them thematic. Soundwave– *Soundwave– glances at Twincast–, back to the screen, and then RIGHT back to Twincast–. Well that’s a sight for sore optics right there, isn’t it.* [[Greetings. Rumble is not in attendance tonight, if you have brought your… friends.]] Blaster– ((WHAT THE FRESH FUCK RABBIT!? Twincast– Nah, just me tonight. Though, I’m sure Rewind would be disappointed to hear that, if he was Soundwave– [[Frenzy requested he theme to this human holiday, yes. Said this one was perfect for it.]] ((rabbit is a pile of butts, i’ll be looking for alternatives as soon as i can after tonight)) Blaster– ((It went…badly, trying to get here Twincast– ((same. clicking the link kept redirecting me so I ??? had to pull some copy+paste black magic Windchill– (( It used to be a good livestream alternative, I don’t understand why they’d make it so hard to actually get into a room. ‘Cept it didn’t even ask for a name when I typed the url in, it just bypassed it so as best as I can tell the whole vetting process is entirely ineffective. )) Swerve– //same Blaster– ((ditto, kept redirecting me SCProwl– Which human holiday are we not observing this time? Specs– ((I had to type it in manually)) Windchill– (( Yup. )) Blaster– ((yeah Swerve– //i like how their 'this is the new rabbit’ window too was all like 'people asked for this!!’ no. no we didnt Specs– I’m glad I themed, then! I hope the snacks meet with Frenzy’s approval. Twincast– ((I think we’re perma invited to this group now, though? At least that’s how it worked for the subgroup I made the other day Blaster– ((literally did not ask for this, I liked the old one damnit Swerve– //seems so based on how i’m still in smokey’s from sat night Tarantulas (( is here ooc for the Good Goo Content and hopes rabbit doesn’t ruin the fun Soundwave– [[Valentines’ Day, as far as he knows. It is when humans consume large amounts of chocolate and appreciate their closest friends and companions. He is told the beings in this film adore chocolate as well and have very close relationships.]] Swoop– ((AHA!)) Twincast– ((WELCOME Windchill– (( YOU MADE IT )) Swoop– ((Dude. Fuck rabbit forever. I shouldn’t have to type the damn URL by hand.)) SCProwl– Chocolate is a type of food, right? Swoop– ((Thanks for coming to the rescue man 😮 )) Windchill– (( Ur welcome. )) Blaster– -don’t mind Blaster– making his way in, for once NOT looking half asleep/dead on his feet- Swoop– ((Wow. This update seriously sucks. It doesn’t scroll down when I send something to the chat. I’m manually scrolling. No way that’s going to get old. Bleh!)) Windchill– (( Gonna go grab a drink that fiasco has got me SWEATING brb. Or maybe it’s this houserobe but you know what. I’m gonna blame rabbit anyway. )) Soundwave– ((stop taking the remote, it may bug out and i can’t get it back)) ((not you, just a general thing)) Windchill– (( I was about to ask I didn’t even notice. )) Prowl– ((I fucked around with a rabbit style and got a way to copy/paste everything again)) SCProwl– ((it gave it to me automatically when i first jumped in, think it’s another issue with this new look Windchill– (( Could be, maybe they’ll get rid of the issue because I can’t imagine that it’s intentional. )) ((Or, don’t want to imagine. )) Specs– ((bots suck enough without having them able to control the remote)) Prowl– ((so we’re back in business, except now I’m fucking pissed off)) Soundwave– [[Yes, chocolate is a human fuel. It is easily melted and not of much value to their internal systems, but they seem to like it.]] Specs– It probably tastes good to them. SCProwl– Not unlike some of the things Cybertronians consume. Soundwave– ((i mistimed by two minutes but whatever - GRAB YOUR SNACKS AND USE YOUR BATHROOMS here are your warnings we start at 8)) ((VENOM // Violence, blood, and death, exposed broken bone, scientific/medical abuse, animal death, body horror, the general grossness of the unbonded symbiotes, seriously bad flashing lights (after eddie fucks with the keypad), moderately bad flashing lights (during a fight scene), I don’t know what you’d call eating out of the garbage but definitely that, vomit, misogynist language, people being in other people’s minds.)) Twincast– *finally slides into seated position–because guess who just realised they were still standing?–and waves at the other Blaster–!* Swoop– ((Dear god. Is everyone having to scroll to keep up with the chat or is it just me?)) Twincast– ((scroll is working… ok for me? my posts get slightly swallowed into the void tho Windchill– (( Mine is automatic, it seems to be affecting everyone differently. )) Swerve– //i’ve noticed that i only hae to anually scroll if i change tabs; as long as i stay in rabbit it auto scrolls Swoop– ((It doesn’t move at all when someone says something new. I’d refresh the page but I might never make it back here.)) Windchill– (( Sorry to hear it’s being an Extra Butt though. )) Blaster– -blinks at the other, waving slightly in confusion- Hi? Prowl– ((mine’s autoscrolling)) Windchill– *He’s here, uglier than ever and wearing one (1) more accessory than usual.*

Swerve– //are you using FF? from what i’ve seen people using firefox have more issues than people using chrome Soundwave– ((everyone. and because i really don’t want to spend all night on a good movie complaining about stuff none of us can change: - yes i will be looking for alternatives but i can’t promise they exist - yes the chat probably will not autoscroll for most of us - this update is a trashfire - i don’t know how to fix it and i’m sorry, i only found out about it an hour ago - let’s just do what we can with what there is tonight all right)) Swoop– ((chrome)) Specs– (mine isn’t autoscrolling even on the tab- and I’m using chrome)) Blaster– ((mine throws my replies into the void Specs– ((yessir slendymun)) Blaster– ((kaaay Swerve– //rip Twincast– @boom Sup? *he is reasonably sure you’re one of Nocturne’s… things. gotta say hi!* Windchill– (( Thank for subs. )) Swoop– *scampers in, oblivious to any theme or upcoming holiday* Windchill– *Ignorance is bliss.* Blaster– Um…. Swoop– HI : > Soundwave– ((no prob, i use them myself so i get it)) Windchill– *Will stop blocking the door with his butt maybe.* Blaster– Do….do I know you? Soundwave– *Soundwave– kicks back. It’s time. He’s been looking forward to this ever since it first appeared on his human datanet feed.* Swoop– *waves at said butt* Windchill– *His butt would reciprocate but that would be weird, so he waves with his hand instead.* Twincast– Maybe not, but–think you know'a friend of mine. Looks a lil bit like our host *kind of. Slendy is a unique beast* Windchill– Swoop–. Swoop– hi Blaster– …………….. Windchill– Hi, you Swoop–. Soundwave– *Glances to Twincast–. Now who’s he talking about over there?* Swoop– HI! Keheheh. You a bad door. No moving. Windchill– You know. I could make all sorts of inappropriate jokes about openings with that…but I won’t. Blaster– I’m…yeah, we met Swoop– Me Swoop– like jokes : > Windchill– *He’s gonna find a spot on the floor to sit instead.* Who knows, maybe you’ll hear some other jokes. Swoop– *scampers in and begins his Bird hunt* Blaster– …………….. Windchill– Ah, yes, the poison movie. Blaster– Hey, uh, Soundwave–? Twincast– Hope he didn’t traumatise you too much – Twincast–. Blaster– formerly Windchill– About poison. Soundwave– *There is no Bird tonight. There is enough trouble keeping up as is. Soundwave– wants to enjoy this his own lone self.* [[Yes, Blaster–?]] Windchill– Wait, no. *Has to cup his chin and recheck the definition of poison versus venom.* Eh. Swoop– *is CRUSHED by the lack of Bird and SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHHHS* Blaster– That…thing. Did it just posses the woman? Windchill– *Snickers.* Blaster– And no, he didn’t Soundwave– [[An investigative journalist breaking into scandals and coverups? He approves of such nosiness.]] Smokescreen– ((OH THERE WE GO Blaster– Just…um…wait Soundwave– [[And yes. It does seem it did.]] Blaster– You used to be named Blaster–? Smokescreen– /Smokescreen–’s running in and is hopping onto the couch./ Soundwave–! Soundwave–, how are you? Twincast– Yeah, changed it post-war 'n got this fancy, blue paint scheme to boot. Blaster– Ah. Thanks. Swoop– ((I was getting bacon what’d I miss)) Soundwave– *Soundwave– startles and automatically flips Smokescreen– overhead and down onto the floor. DON’T DO THAT TO HIM.* [[…He apologizes.]] Swoop– *climbs Windchill– to perch* This a GOOD movie? Smokescreen– /OW- Smokescreen–’s staying on the floor for a few minutes, but gives a thumbs up. That was pretty cool, actually!/ Soundwave– ((eddie brock is an investigative journalist, he’s picking up a big report with the guy at the head of the Life Foundation and doesn’t really want it cause fluff piece but has to do it)) Windchill– Dunno, Swoop–. We’re gonna find out. Swoop– ((thx)) Someone DIE? Soundwave– [[He is fine. A little surprised. Obviously.]] *Pause. Lean forward.* [[…Are you injured?]] Blaster– ….so, okay then… Windchill– I guess there was a rocket crash with dead people and a mention of some kind of murder, so yes. Someone died. Smokescreen– Haha, sorry, Soundwave–. Didn’t mean to surprise you! … I’m fine, probably. Just lemme lie down for a little more. Swoop– Crash and die means proooooobably good movie : > Smokescreen– … Can you show me how to do that, Soundwave–? Blaster– …. Windchill– It’s a great start. Prowl– ((as the child of a journalist I am personally offended by how shitty and immoral an investigative reporter he is)) Soundwave– [[All right.]] *He pauses again, then offers a small orange crystal.* [[…Snack? While you’re down there.]] Blaster– Okay, on the grounds that I used to be a reporter, don’t do that. Windchill– Earth is already in space. Everything is in space. Swoop– Them kissy facing. That gross. Windchill– You Swoop– gross. Soundwave– [[And he can show you how, yes. Not tonight.]] Prowl– ((to be fair: it is ENTIRELY valid for an Eddie Brock to be written as a shitty immoral investigative reporter.)) Swoop– Me Swoop– not in space. Me Swoop– on shoulder. YOU gross Windchill– I am gross, thank you for noticing. Soundwave– *Soundwave– would do that. … Not to Prowl–. He wouldn’t break Prowl–’s trust. But he’d totally do it to another bot.* Prowl– ((but the movie acts like we’re like… supposed to side with him for it.)) Blaster– ((Blaster– is just a lil offended. Not much, but just miffed at him Swoop– *points at Windchill–* Ew Windchill– *Sticks his gross glossa out at Swoop–. Likewise.* Smokescreen– Thanks, Soundwave–, that’d be a cool thing to know! And- and yeah. /Smokescreen–’s taking the crystal and is plopping it directly into his mouth./ Soundwave– ((i got the impression we weren’t supposed to like that he did it? everything points out he was a jackass)) Windchill– (( Yes, it bites him in the butt later. )) (( But I’ve seen this a few times so I’ll be quiet. )) Swoop– *blows raspberries* Soundwave– [[Hmph. No surprises regarding Drake’s reaction.]] Windchill– What a delightful sound. Right in my ear. I love it. Blaster– -sighs- Swoop– Kehehh! *points* No eaaar! Ear a human thing. ((eddie looks so shocked)) Prowl– ((so have i; i still feel like we’re supposed to feel bad for him. he doesn’t, like, change.)) Soundwave– *…Takes notes. DEFINITELY don’t do this to Prowl–.* Smokescreen– … Why is she giving him her ring? Windchill– I have audio receptors and they serve the same function as ears. Guess which one is easier to say? Blaster– ….. SCProwl– To end their courtship is my guess. Swoop– EeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeearrrrrUH Blaster– Oh. That really DID come back to bite him Prowl– ((see up here he’s getting consequences. that’s good, that’s valid. but it’s only at the start)) Twincast– Huh Smokescreen– Huh. So is that a ring he lent her or something? Windchill– Everything out of your mouth is an earful. You Swoop– noisy. Swoop– *licks Windchill–’s audio* *extra slobber just for you* Windchill– *SHUDDERS, complete with an ugly face.* Specs– She grabbed a… fish? With her bare hands? SCProwl– Courtship gifts are gifts. Meant to be kept by the receiver. Returning it is a clear gesture of rejection. Swoop– *chirps* Soundwave– [[The ooze creature is so…]] *Hand motion. What’s a word.* [[Oozy.]] Windchill– *Isn’t even going to try to wipe his ear off. Gross.* SCProwl– *not sure the ring was a courtship gift was but it seems like the most likely guess* Swoop– Booger Windchill– My thoughts exactly. A booger transplant. Swoop– Ewwwwwww *grins* Windchill– That’s quite an assumption but okay. Soundwave– [[…They have used precisely one animal. That is insufficient data.]] Smokescreen– He’s… Not a very good scientist, is he? Swoop– Me Swoop– an animal : > Blaster– -shudders- Soundwave– [[Not at all.]] Specs– Clearly not. How many people did he apparently kill? SCProwl– Impatient for the results he wants. Windchill– Are you Swoop– a wild animal? Blaster– That’s disturbing Soundwave– [[At least three.]] Swoop– *is so damn helpful tonight, it’s a shame Bird isn’t here to be helped* Me Swoop– VERY wild! Windchill– *Ear cleaning is so helpful.* I thought so. Swoop– *would lick Bird* Windchill– I’m empty, too. Swoop– Empty? Windchill– It’s a joke. I made it just for you. I thought you liked them. Swoop– ((Wow. He didn’t jump in and make it worse. I’m kind of surprised. I don’t know I’ve ever seen that in a movie before.)) Me do! :V Windchill– So, there’s a joke for you. First one. Swoop– Do it again Windchill– So soon? Swoop– Yah Windchill– These things take time… I’m not ready. Swoop– Slow keheh Windchill– Maybe so. Blaster– ….ow Windchill– Maybe…slow. Swoop– Slow *pokes* poke Twincast– *may be guilty of being that neighbor once or twice* Windchill– Excuse me sir that is my person that you are poking. Swoop– *bobbles his head in a nod* Soundwave– [[…Does he not know what he is there for?]] Smokescreen– Man, Eddie makes me look like I’m doing amazing in comparison Windchill– You making fun of me for being slow? Is that how it is? Blaster– He’s about to find out Swoop– *continued bobbling* Windchill– This man is very dramatic. Prowl– *arrives belatedly and reluctantly* Soundwave– [][][] I? [][][] Windchill– That’s the word I’m using because the others aren’t so polite. Soundwave– *Soundwave– glances at Prowl–’s late arrival. … Well, this isn’t the best scene to come in on, is it.* Prowl– *stops and stares at the screen* Windchill– Maybe you Swoop– slow. Swoop– No no no. Me Swoop– FAST!!! Blaster– -covers face- Windchill– Faster than I am? Prowl– *… tiredly closes optics. he chose a hell of a time to arrive.* Twincast– Mmm, no, that ain’t healthy Smokescreen– Is… Is that normal for humans Swoop– YAH! Me Swoop– waaaaaaaaaaaay faster. Fastest Best Windchill– Eh, you’re probably right. For now, anyway. Smokescreen– /Smokescreen–’s finally starting to get up from the floor to sit down on one of the arms of the couch away from Soundwave– Oh no Swoop– You Windchill– going to be faster later? Soundwave– *You know what, he’s just. He’s just going to make his greeting to Prowl– very subdued and start it with a mark of apology.* Windchill– When I can transform again? Yeah. Now I have to walk everywhere so I do it as slowly as possible out of spite. Swoop– Spite? Who you mad walking at? Windchill– Me probably. Swoop– *slow blinks his confusion out* Windchill– *Just smiles.* *Points* Cat. Blaster– ….huh Windchill– That’s not creepy at all! Blaster– That explains a few things Swoop– This movie so TALK. When Us do crash DEAD again? Blaster– -mostly about his own career, and the 'side-effects’ of it- Windchill– Uh, maybe later? Swoop– Fastforward Smokescreen– Hey! Cats have people they like Soundwave– [[That is a blatant lie. That cats do not like anyone.]] Smokescreen– Yeah! There’s a Ravage that adopted me! Soundwave– *…Cautiously invites Prowl– to come sit down? At least if he’s going to dislike the movie he can be seated comfortably while he’s uncomfortable with everything else.* Swoop– Sometime, uh, sometime Us watch COMP-i-lation videos. For fights and guts and stuff. That more fun than talk movie. Prowl– *starts. right, yeah, he hasn’t sat yet.* *sits stiffly.* Windchill– Then go watch one of those instead of complaining about what we’re watching now, Swoop–. Swoop– Nooo. *holds onto Windchill–’s helm* Us ALL do. Together. Fun. Soundwave– @P: [[If there is anything you need while you are here - /anything/ - …please, be certain to tell him.]] Smokescreen– … Eddie, Aliens are real Specs– Cats simply have standards about who they /do/ like. Blaster– …..wouldn’t this place have cameras? Windchill– Not when the plot demands it. Swoop– ((This seems like a talk y'all should have had in the car)) Smokescreen– Man, secret walls are always a bad sign, aren’t they? Swoop– Plot 😛 Smokescreen– Like, it was like that in Gotham too Soundwave– [[Always and ever, Smokescreen–.]] Windchill– Maybe we’ll see more goo. Prowl– ((they talked about the weather and how the LA angels were doing all the way here and then she was like “oh right shoulda mentioned the aliens”)) Smokescreen– … I guess no walls are secret for me, though, haha. Swoop– Goo is okay : > Windchill– Killer goo. Blaster– …….. Soundwave– [[…He assumes the goo motionless on the floor is de– oh, it’s the homeless human.]] Smokescreen– oh no Windchill– Why is she frozen? Blaster– ………. Swoop– ((omfg did he really just randomly mash buttons)) Prowl– *grimaces at the noise and lights* Blaster– -covers face again- Soundwave– *Of course they’re preying on those with no alternatives. Of course they are.* *Ugh, the lights.* Swoop– Her choke : V Prowl– *grimaces even harder at the living thing oozing over and under his skin* Smokescreen– Is… Is she gonna be okay Windchill– Dead people. Are you happy now? Swoop– *bounces a little at finally getting some fights* KEHEHH Yah! SCProwl– I sincerely doubt it, Smokescreen–. Smokescreen– He was like “I’ve never climbed a fence THAT high before” And then he woke up at home Windchill– What. Smokescreen– Oh… /Sad, Sad, doorwing droop/ Swoop– Kehaha! Him KILL tree. Soundwave– ((lmfao smokey)) Blaster– That’s…most humans should’t be able to do that Swoop– ((omfg)) SCProwl– ((lol smokey Prowl– ((lol)) Swoop– ((he is the most confused koala)) Soundwave– [[…He is going to go out on a limb and assume that none of this athletic ability is normal for Brock.]] Swoop– *immediately busts up* Out on limb Windchill– *Brows furrow.* Swoop–. Smokescreen– This is a mood Swoop– HI Windchill– *Shakes head.* Blaster– Um…. Smokescreen– … This is extremely relatable Windchill– Why are we being made to hear these gross eating sounds. Blaster– UM Swoop– Him Slag eat like that Smokescreen– oh … He’s kinda weak, huh? Blaster– Ah, there we go Soundwave– *Shudders. Disgustin– WELL THEN* Windchill– I mean, I eat off the floor and out of the trash sometimes. Blaster– !!! Prowl– *shudders at the voice* Swoop– *loses it again at the high pitched scream and KO* Smokescreen– Same! Sometimes, you just gotta have floor food SCProwl– Ugh. Windchill– Extra flavour. Floor flavour. Sometimes tastes oddly of feet. Smokescreen– I can’t say I know what feet taste like! Swoop– *holds his footsie up for Windchill–’s inspection* Windchill– They’re nothing spectacular. Swoop– *wiggles his borby toes* Soundwave– *Watching date Prowl– out of the corner of his optics. Part of him wishes Prowl– hadn’t put himself through this if it was going to be this tough. Another part of him appreciates the glimpse into what it must be like for Prowl– based on his reactions. Mostly, he just wishes it hadn’t ever needed to be a problem.* Windchil *Is immediately distracted by the foot in his face. You know he’s gotta do it.* Swoop– ((Lola, go fuck 'em up!)) Prowl– … That’s another one, isn’t it? Smokescreen– … /Watching Windchill–. Is he gonna do it??/ Windchill– *His glossa snakes out and strikes like a viper in case Swoop– tries to change his mind.* *Gotta lick fast.* Blaster– …… Soundwave– [[Yes. There is one that broke loose during the crash of the Life Foundation ship that brought them to Earth. It is that one.]] Swoop– *SQUEAKS but doesn’t pull away because he isn’t a putz* Blaster– I…what….what is going on here? Smokescreen– …… I’d do this Primus Windchill– *Is watching the debacle on screen with exactly one eye.* Swoop– ((omg I have never seen such a fantastic embodiment of the munchies)) Windchill– Your foot tastes exactly like a foot. Congratulations. Swoop– Good : > Windchill– What happens if you fart in a lobster tank? Smokescreen– /Oh dang he thought Windchill– was gonna bite Swoop–’s feet off or something./ Blaster– ….um… Windchill– Do they die? Well, that one’s dead. Blaster– Is……is he…. Swoop– Bubble Prowl– *it’s just a sustained grimace* Windchill– You can put your foot down, now. Unless you want me to lick it again. Which would be weird. Swoop– ((I’ve seen lots of characters called trash over the years but this man is the first one who is actual literal trash)) Windchill– *points* Dog. SCProwl– ((garbage man, dumpster fire trash loser Prowl– ((they do real good at making him look like absolute garbage)) Swoop– You Windchill– weird kehhehhh! *sets his foot on Windchill– for the grossest footprint* Windchill– You’re the one who wanted your foot licked. You think I lick things for fun? Swoop– Yes Windchill– You’d be right. Swoop– Kehehehheh Soundwave– [[…Is it the magnetic fields or sound?]] *Pity neither would work. He thinks. He hasn’t tried the sound, but Devastator’s a whole different thing.* [[Ah. Sound.]] Smokescreen– Liver failure? SCProwl– Fascinating. Prowl– *that was an amazing visual representation of what it feels like to have a monster in your head. and, of course, Prowl– hated it* Specs– I think human livers are also slightly mandatory, yes. Blaster– -he could do it- Smokescreen– What do they do? Swoop– ((this voice is a hair too close to Audrey II. It’s making me expect a song.)) Smokescreen– Do you have a liver, Specs–? Windchill– I leap up and act weird when I get hungry, too. SCProwl– ((feeeeeeed meeee, eddieeeeee Prowl– ((“does it have to be fresh? does it have to be mine?!” “actually lobster will do”)) Swoop– Weird how? Keheh Smokescreen– ((PFHPFHF Specs– I do! It processes methanol into formic acid, amongst other things. I don’t think human livers need to do that, though. SCProwl– ((bwahaha Windchill– Apparently eating garbage is weird. Blaster– ((HAH Smokescreen– Really? Why? Swoop– Me Swoop– BOMBER. Me do lots lots of flying and stuff. Soooo. *pats his belly* Weigh stuff for right amount things. : > Specs– Humans typically don’t have methanol in their bloodstream, right? Smokescreen– … Methanol? I have no idea, Specs–. Soundwave– *Slooooooowly tries to close his mouth as tight as possible.* Windchill– Because…nobody else wants to eat it? Are you implying that you poop on people, Swoop–? Windchill– It’s a biological antifreeze, for my species! But humans don’t live in the snow all the time. Swoop– *cackles* BOMB poops Soundwave– [[He is up to something. His voice suggests it.]] Smokescreen– Don’t trust him Prowl– His lab full of human experimentation suggests it. Smokescreen– oh no Windchill– Burnt. Swoop– Me : > Smokescreen– EDDIE Windchill– Some people never listen. Soundwave– [[The lab as well, yes. But he meant without seeing evidence of intention at the time.]] Swoop– *LOSES it* *this comedy is on his level* Windchill– Um excuse me that’s not a bug. Rude. Smokescreen– I wish I had goo Swoop– *stares, wide opticed and delighted* Prowl– *… Prowl– figures Soundwave– is probably dying of curiosity by this point, so…* @S «Devastator doesn’t talk to me.» Soundwave– *Lets go of the tray on his lap and pulls his feelers back in. Those will just be staying in his chest all night, yes.* Swoop– *in awe* Wicked! Windchill– I’m not even going to comment on goo right now. Smokescreen– Soundwave–, any idea where a bot can get some goo? Windchill– Just eat them. Swoop– *clacks his jaws together to let everyone know where he stands on the biting off heads discussion* Soundwave– *The tiniest blip of surprise. He wasn’t expecting that. He was wondering that, but he wasn’t expecting it.* @P: [[But you have reacted to architecturally destructive visuals before. Is it emotional instead of verbal, or…?]] Swoop– *is glued to the scrreen, loving this* Soundwave– [[He does not know where to find goo. He would not tell anyone here if he did.]] *That’s the last thing any of them need.* Swoop– *taps his heels against Windchill– as he chirps to himself* Smokescreen– Like- it doesn’t have to be that goo. Windchill– *Tolerates this.* Smokescreen– Just some goo to touch, 'cause it looks pretty cool. Prowl– @S «Emotional. Sometimes he makes… something like noises. But he doesn’t talk.» @S «… Bombshell talked.» Swoop– *claps* Windchill– *Could make jokes about lubricants…but is saving the dirty jokes for later.* Swoop– WHOOOOOO! Windchill– You like the explosions? Swoop– DUH! Windchill– I like the colour, it’s very fancy. Swoop– Me Swoop– could blue fire with some copper : > Windchill– Yeah, like how they make fireworks with different colours. Swoop– FACE fireworks! Soundwave– @P: [[Noises. Like screaming or growling, then?]] *That made sense. Maybe he needed everyone to have a coherent mind? No, Devastator had called him through Prowl– before. Someone not in control, then.* [[…Did he talk like this? Like the creature does to the Brock human.]] Windchill– Uh, yeah. Swoop– DEAD KAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA DEEEEEEEEEAD Soundwave– *…THAT is certainly one advantage of having one of these symbiotes.* Blaster– ….that oh wow Prowl– @S «LIKE that. It’s not actual audible sounds, but it /feels/ like roaring.» *he considers the question for a long moment.* «… No. It was a lot worse than this.» Windchill– That’s a lot of teeth. I approve. Swoop– KAH! BITE! Windchill– *Nods.* *He has a certain appreciation for biting the heads off of enemies.* Soundwave– *oh, it’s got Soundwave–’s teeth* Blaster– -actually squeaks this time- Windchill– I like this goo guy. Prowl– *shudders at venom’s little speech* Smokescreen– Rude! Swoop– ((Was that a NOSE BOOP?)) Smokescreen– ((YES Blaster– Yep, okay, no Soundwave– @P: [[He imagines there was never a 'we’.]] *Oh, did it HAVE to say it was in his head? Really?* Prowl– @S «… That was closer to what it was like.» Blaster– The CHILD SCProwl– That’s why this is called Venom? *Disappointed. There’s nothing venomous about the symbiote.* Smokescreen– Renal? Swoop– Gots Windchill– Hey no looking at your phone while driving, lady. Prowl– @P: [[That is - obviously you did not want a 'we’. He is trying to say, he doubts Bombshell spoke to you in any manner other than ordering.]] Windchill– I’m calling the police. Soundwave– *points to the police for Windchill–* Windchill– *He appreciates the assistance but refuses to look.* Prowl– @S «You’re correct. Nearly everything Venom said to him could have been something Bombshell said.» Swoop– ((WE <3 )) Smokescreen– ((WE SCProwl– Could they be poisoning their hosts? Would a compatible human even exist then? Blaster– -ohprimusheightsno- Windchill– Most things are less ugly from a distance. Blaster– Stop looking DOWN Windchill– Defeated by a plane. Smokescreen– Awww. Man, that is the nastiest sweatshirt ever Twincast– ((asfgh Prowl– ((i fucking love)) Swoop– ((are they fucking flirting)) Smokescreen– ((Yes Prowl– ((you know it)) Blaster– ((AWESOME Swoop– Whoaaaaaaa *starry optics* Swerve– //i know it’s canon in the comics that they;re like, married but sometimes i’m surprised that they allowed that much implied flirting in the movie Windchill– Oh, nice. Prowl– ((married with a BABY)) Swerve– //yea lmao Swoop– *in awe* Me Swoop– wanna do that….! : V Prowl– ((… multiple babies but like only the latest one counts)) Windchill– How did she get in? Soundwave– ((y'all ain’t wondered why i said venomtines day lmao)) Prowl– ((they weren’t ready to be parents before)) Windchill– You Swoop– do what? Smash people with other people? Swoop– *Snickers.* Yah! Soundwave– @P: [[He is sorry. That it was what it was. … And thankful that he can speak to you as he does. He often wondered, but - this is very - it is clarifying.]] *Oh, the scared and needing help bit tugs his spark. Damn it.* Swoop– ((And thus Eddie learns that it’s best to just listen to someone else because he has no goddamn sense)) Blaster– Oh, he’d /hate/ me Prowl– @S «This really doesn’t give a very good glimpse of it.» Soundwave– *Kind of glad she’s trying to help, at least.* @P: [[It was more than this?]] Swoop– ((Omg Venom and Annie fuckin got each other’s backs)) Swerve– //venom a+ wingman? Swoop– ((dealing with this terrible garbage man they love)) Prowl– @S «God, yes.» Windchill– Fantastic. Prowl– ((see that there is kind of the beginning and end of his entire self-reflection on the fact that he screwed things up royally)) ((and it came with prompting and didn’t really indicate that he has any understanding that everything ELSE he did was wrong)) Windchill– Gross. Swoop– Punch it Prowl– ((the rest of the movie is like “oh… yeah… this dude really IS a villain… eddie was good for standing up for him, probably, and isn’t it sad that he doesn’t have a job.”)) ((like he’s explicitly characterized as a “loser.” as a person who failed. not as, for instance, an “asshole.” losers are victims of circumstance, not the architects of their own failure.)) Blaster– ((DOGGO Windchill– Oh joy, this is gonna be an interrogation scene, isn’t it. Swerve– //i love the movie but yeah in this case he’s only seen as a loser because he was an asshole in the first place and didn’t really seem to grasp that entirely Swoop– Whoo! Swerve– //still love that doggo tho Prowl– ((that’s why I said i’m disappointed at how we’re expected to sympathize with him. they started off strong–making everything his fault, having him say everything is drake’s fault and annie calling him out on it–that was great stuff)) ((but by the end it’s Poor Eddie The Loser Was Right All Along)) Soundwave– @P: [[Is it permitted for him to ask for more explanation? He knows you do not like to discuss this business in detail, and would ask the alternates of his that were controlled, but he has not encountered any in person. He would like to understand more - understand you. If you are able at this point in time.]] Windchill– *Smacks lips at villainous monologue.* Swoop– *leans over to see what the smacking is about* Windchill– *Smacks more.* Prowl– ((and maybe symby sees him as a loser because he sees himself as a loser, rather than as an asshole–but the more the movie goes on, the more that “eddie is the jerk here” narrative fades away)) Swoop– *mimics the smacking* Soundwave– *Starts at Riot’s appearance* Blaster– …….. Swoop– ((gay)) Windchill– *It’s a chorus of smacking with no snacks to smack on. Tragedy.* Smokescreen– Is… Is that where they’re stored Swoop– *doesn’t know what we’re doing but it’s a team sport now* Windchill– *Smack smack smack.* Prowl– @S «… For starters, Bombshell didn’t let me copilot.» Windchill– *Stops smacking.* Blaster– HOLY-! Windchill– Wow, boobies. *Resumes smacking.* Twincast– ((weakass ladyvenom design Blaster– Um…. Swoop– ((does this count as a threesome)) Prowl– ((i choose to believe that kiss was entirely symby)) Windchill– WHAT. *Fluffs up.* Swoop– King Blaster– I’m… Okay… Windchill– *Grunts in displeasure.* Blaster– Not going to ask Swerve– //i think i like the comic version of klyntar’s more tho than the mcu version Windchill– Awkward, but I’m going to laugh at this. Yes. Smokescreen– ((awwww Prowl– ((i prefer comic venom entirely)) Swoop– Laugh at what? Windchill– My mate’s name is Riot. Prowl– ((the movie version is fun but it’s not my preference)) Swoop– Sweet : V Swerve– //i havent read enough of the venom comics to know him outside the mcu but i do at least know the klyntar in the comics enough to prefer them to mcu’s SCProwl– ((this isn’t mcu. it’s its own thing Prowl– ((~*venomverse*~)) Blaster– ….-muffled snicker- Swerve– //gfhbg yeah i just. refer to all of the live action superhero movies mcu at this point lmao Windchill– …My Riot isn’t that goopy, though. Swoop– You suuure? Windchill– Not usually. Maybe sometimes. Prowl– ((*sees a new batman movie* “grimdark mcu is at it again”)) Windchill– Can’t fight for shit either. Swoop– Whoa! Him get BUTT kicked! Blaster– ….. Swerve– //lmfao i mean Windchill– What a mess. Blaster– What the heck? Windchill– Well, that didn’t last long. Blaster– Annie! Swoop– You Soundwave– can beat up EVERYONE in this movie. Prowl– ((two nerds pathetically smacking each other is the best part of the fight)) Soundwave– @P: [[You have great willpower; the amount of control he would have to have taken - what he’d have to exert to keep you held in–]] *He’s thinking about how much it would take from himself.* [[…You saw Unicron’s control of Megatron. Could you speak to - or at - him as Megatron did? Or were you denied even that?]] Swoop– ((is it just me or is everyone else waiting for venom to get all hot and bothered by his host beating up someone elses’ host?)) Windchill– Dead. Soundwave– [[Perhaps. He’s never encountered a symbiote.]] *And he didn’t do so well against the Unicron up close.* Swoop– D E A D Windchill– Is… Is the sound of the rocket not enough? Prowl– @S «Willpower shmillpower. He didn’t have to exert anything. That’s not how the mechanics of it works.» Swoop– KA BOOM! Windchill– Double dead. Blaster– -covers face- Swoop– drown dead pretty boring dead Soundwave– @P: [[Hm. Closer to a virus?]] Windchill– If you say so. Swoop– Do Do say so Windchill– Not enough explosions? Swoop– Drowning boring. Blub blub fish nibbles. Windchill– Okay. Why are his lips so big Prowl– @S «He severed the connection between my brain and my body.» Soundwave– *Sits up straight.* Tarantulas (( OOPS SORRY (( didnt mean to take remote Smokescreen– ((theif,, Tarantulas (( stealin spide Swoop– ((venom omg buddy)) Smokescreen– ((sneaky spide Soundwave– @P: [[…That is more horrifying than anything he had imagined it was.]] Swoop– ((this is a real romcom good god)) Windchill– Dog. Blaster– ((STAN LEEEE Windchill– *Gasps.* Swoop– Nom nom bite Windchill– There are rules about eating people? That’s news to me. Swoop– Me Swoop– bite LOTS of people Not eat tho Windchill– Luckily, I don’t care much for rules so like, whatever. Just bite? Why? Are you mean? Swoop– ((I hope that writing job pays well because his food budget just went through the damn roof)) Yah, mean : > Windchill– Cool. All of my friends are mean. Smokescreen– “I have a parasite” Man, what an excuse Blaster– ((not hungry anymore Prowl– *mutters* I’m calling Devastator a parasite from now on. *it’s not a term of endearment.* Swoop– ((Wait wait… that was the line from the trailer that they made all ominous.)) Prowl– ((the trailer was so misleading)) Swoop– ((no kidding)) Windchill��� (( Oh yeah I’ve had discussions about that one. Marketing at its finest, as usual.)) Blaster– ((it was Prowl– ((venom is menacing toward eddie for all of five minutes and then immediately starts falling in love with him)) Swerve– //yeah when i went to see it originally i expected that scene way way earlier Specs– ((that’s the power of tom hardy)) Soundwave– *Approval ping after the parasite Devastator comment.* Windchill– Edgy. Swerve– //this def sets up for a sequel tho so i’m curious if they’re gonna follow thru on it Swoop– Him not very red ((little on the nose but I’m okay with it)) Prowl– ((i’m disappointed that eddie wasn’t a beefy mulleted blond, but tom hardy is just SO GOOD at being gross in that hoodie, i’ll take him too)) Blaster– ((HAH Swerve– //lmao Windchill– *Stretches exactly one leg.* Smokescreen– ((im still so glad the lobster tank scene was unscripted and he just did that Windchill– That sure was gooey. Prowl– ((I KNOW it was brilliant)) Swoop– ((Tom Hardy did a good job for sure. Normally, when people say “you look terrible” to someone in a movie, it’s a cue on how we should be reading things. In this movie, he actually looked fucking awful.)) Prowl– ((he did. he looked nasty the whole movie)) Swoop– ((Was it really? That is beautiful)) Swerve– //im so glad it was god Specs– *the dragon stretches* Thank you for having me, Soundwave–! Swoop– It pretty good fights : > OH! Us do Mad Max now : V That good fight movie : > Windchill– Had some explosions. Soundwave– [[You are welcome, dragon.]] Swerve– //is this a deleted scene //also wow rabbit did u need to cut off the last post of the chat Soundwave– ((yes)) Prowl– ((this is a great scene and i’m so upset they took it out)) Blaster– ((pffff Swoop– ((So damn good)) SCProwl– ((Venom is gonna make Eddie a better person via cannibalism and tater tots Swoop– ((I saw pics of Eddie getting carried away fro mthe lobster tank too)) Soundwave– ((public stream end marker: 10:00)) Windchill– *Rolls his shoulders. Will this dislodge the dinobot?* Smokescreen– So, uh, Soundwave— you up to maybe dance again sometime? Swoop– *has stayed on a bucking T-rex trying to dislodge him, this is nothing* Windchill– *Sways from side to side.* Soundwave– [[Another time, Smokescreen–. Not tonight.]] *And not to this, for sure.* Swoop– What you dancing for? Windchill– Excuse me? Dance? How dare you suggest such a thing. I’m trying to get you off. Swoop– yuh HUH dance Windchill– Ineffectively. Swoop– Oh Then you suck at doing keheheh Smokescreen– Aww, okay. I’d be up to meet up with you to dance sometime, then! It’d be fun. Windchill– *Grunts his agreement.* Soundwave– [[Perhaps after a movie that is actually fun.]] Twincast– *staaaands. maybe he wasn’t so chatty tonight, but he’d be rude to not give their host a ping goodbye. Maybe next time~* Windchill– You’ll have to get off sometime. Soundwave– *Perhaps next time indeed. Farewell, Twincast–.* Twincast– ((I was so engrossed I forgot to RP. It was fun!! Thanks for streaming : D Swoop– ((I know the movie might have MEANT to imply that Annie was lying about the kiss being Venom’s idea but Venom literally never missed a chance to try to smash them together like Barbie dolls so I 10/10 believe her.)) Nuh uh Smokescreen– … I thought that was fun Windchill– Yuh-huh. Swoop– Not if us DIE here Soundwave– ((you’re welcome!)) Windchill– Oh. Well, sure, but why would we die here? Smokescreen– Oh! Oh, I know a good dance song for us, later. Have you ever heard of Cascada, Soundwave–? Swopp *is joking but he’s got a back full of missiles if we want to end it all* Blaster– ….-yawns and stretches- Swoop– so BORED from these songs us DIE Windchill– *Snorts.* I like them. Swoop– no Windchill– Yes. Blaster– Anyway, thanks for that, but I have to go now. Hopefully to sleep. Swoop– nO Windchill– I’m not having this argument with you. Blaster– Goodnight. Swoop– yes Soundwave– [[Goodnight, those leaving.]] Swerve– //nini friendos Windchill– No. Soundwave– [[And of course he has heard of that. Again, though: another night.]] Swoop– *squeaks* YES Smokescreen– Cool! I’m looking forward to it. Thanks for the crystal- and I still REALLY want you to show me how to knock bots down like you did earlier! Windchill– No, you can’t make me. *Squints at the squeaking next to his head.* Swoop– Can too Smokescreen– /Smokescreen–’s finally getting himself up, and is dropping by the bar to grab a drink before he finally goes home!/ Windchill– No. I have a date later and you, *he points over his shoulder at the Swoop– in question,* want no part of it, so you have to get off and like, not waste my time. *Stands up, Swoop– or no Swoop–.* Swoop– a DATE? :V Windchill– That’s what I said. Swoop– *PERKS UP* TOP GUN Soundwave–, us watch Top Gun? *bounces right off Windchill–* Windchill– *Oh, thank god.* Soundwave– [[No, not right now. Now it is time to leave.]] Swoop– : < But Top Gun good movie, Soundwave– Soundwave– [[Then go home and watch it with your brothers.]] Swoop– Them LAME No flying Windchill– Goodnight, thanks for goo movie, have fun telling Swoop– no for the next several minutes. Swoop– : > Soundwave– [[Goodnight, you are welcome, and he absolutely won’t.]] Swoop– Howwww about a LITTLE top gun : > Just flying parts! Windchill– I guess it’s not for everyone. Bye Swoop–, I’m leaving you here. Sucker. Swoop– *clearly has better taste than Windchill– since he is fighting for TOP GUN* Windchill– *Clearly.* *Waves, and backs for the exit.* Soundwave– [[On your way, now, Swoop–. There is no Top Gun here.]] Swoop– *gives the BIGGEST SIGH IN THE WORLD* fine Windchill– *Normally picks up straggler children to deposit home, but is apparently choosing to be irresponsible and leave it for Soundwave– to deal with.* Swoop– You Soundwave– boring boring Windchill– *And he’s gone before that can change.* Soundwave– [[Yes. What a terrible bot he is. Best you go and leave him to do dull paperwork and listen to people talking for hours without any fighting.]] Swoop– *knows he’s being teased but doesn’t NOT believe that’s what’s going to happen so he blows raspberries all the way out the door* Soundwave– *What do you know? That worked.* Prowl– *gives Soundwave– an expectant look* Soundwave– *Looks back and then around. He’s… he’s not actually sure what to do now. This was a Bad Night, movie-wise.* [[Do - would you like to clean, like the last time, or -]] *Twitchy fingers.* [[We could walk through the settlement nearby, or - anything else you would prefer to do. Actual paperwork, even. He does not know.]] Prowl– You mean doing paperwork and listening to people talking for hours WASN’T the explicit plan? Soundwave– [[Oh. He said that mostly to be rid of Swoop– in a timely fashion, but he has nothing against it if you would actually like that. He has plenty of the first, and the second could be either of us. Or someone else, if you had them in mind.]] Prowl– *… humor ping* Soundwave– *Oh, a joke. Okay, he’s got it now.* [[Ah. His apologies. That actually IS how he likes to spend his nights sometimes.]] *He forgets himself and smiles the teensiest bit.* Prowl– Me too. Sans talking, usually. Soundwave– [[He sees. … Do you have paperwork with you? We could work on that together. Sitting together, that is. Obviously, he is not entitled to type up your reports for you.]] *Pause.* [[Though he could do so with extreme speed.]] *Shakes his head.* [[A good and comfortable shared silence is never to be taken for granted.]] [[…Unless you meant you prefer someone else to do the talking, in which case he has plenty of tales he could tell you.]] Prowl– No, I don’t have paperwork with me. I—don’t know what I want to do. *it’s partially untrue. he does know what he wants to do—go home and be alone for a while—but he can’t have that. he’s never going to be alone again.* Soundwave– *Considers this.* [[You could do nothing, in a sense.]] *Small hand gesture.* [[Sitting and resting, sleeping, doing something unimportant for no reason other than it is fun. That sort of thing.]] Prowl– So, the usual movie night options. *beat.* … The usual besides interfacing. Soundwave– [[A fair point, if an important one. Such moments tend to be good for us both. Though he would like to clarify that he was not thinking of interfacing. He may not have the ability to sing, but he is not tone deaf.]] [[He will clean before it is much later. Experiment with what you care to do at the moment as you like; all he asks is that if you decide what you wish to do is something away from him, you interrupt to bid him goodnight first instead of simply popping away. An acceptable deal?]] Prowl– Mm. I’ll help clean. *that’s something productive he can latch onto. he doesn’t want to just sit and stare around* Soundwave– *Nods and motions toward the couches. Bridge away!* [[…He doesn’t suppose he could get you to help with the upstairs, the Kangaskhan, and the outer walls as well? Being away for a week tends to inspire his deployers to leave things undone.]] *Humor ping.* Prowl– Sure. Maybe not the—the Genghis Khan. I’d rather not have to worry about stepping on organics. Soundwave– [[Oh, they’re very sharp when it comes to not being stepped on - but better to err on the side of caution, yes. Still. He should introduce you to them some time, now that they have air masks.]] Prowl– Another time.]] Soundwave– ((aw man you can’t edit now? booooo)) [[Another time. Not now. Very well, here and the upper floors - and perhaps, if you still feel up to it and are not afraid of heights, he will show you how the deployers scrub the outer walls. And how he does. Both very entertaining.]] *Another small smile, because the first wasn’t as much of a problem as he’d expected. He’s trying to be a distraction. Primus only knows if it works.* [[Come, come. Everything to its place, now.]] *Affection, times three.* Prowl– I’d hardly call that “heights.” It’s only a few stories. *height’s relative and his universe’s Cybertronians are durable. he gets to work bridging the couches back where they belong; there’s a moment of hesitation before he remembers to return the three pings.* Soundwave– [[You’ve never met Blades, have you.]] *Soft huff.* Prowl– Sure. I’ve known him since before the war, we were in Security Services under Sentinel Prime. Starscream forced him into a combiner recently. Soundwave– *Puts the snacks he was crating back on the bar and turns to look at Prowl–, mouth in a small o and everything.* [[…Were it anyone else talking, he would suspect that of being a joke.]] *Shakes his head and goes back to packing.* [[Another reason to see Starscream deposed, he supposes. And he is sorry to hear of your - friend’s? - fate.]] [[He did mean his own, however. Grounder turned extremely unwilling helicopter turned grounder again. He would be surprised if Blades is even capable of jumping anymore. Poor mech.]] [[…Perhaps there’s a link somewhere in this misfortune of theirs. He’ll note it on the map.]] Prowl– I’ve never heard of mine ever being anything but a helicopter. And since I’ve known him since before extensive body mods were allowed, I suspect that’s his original shape. *all the couches are in place, he’s going to find something else to clean.* Not friend. Just longtime acquaintance. Soundwave– [[Longtime acquaintance, then. Still - he would not have wished that on him.]] *Mopping behind the bar while he’s there.* [[Do the two of you speak now?]] Prowl– He and his team have a standing invitation to contact me if they—need anything. They haven’t utilized it recently. Soundwave– [[Disappointing.]] *Maybe it would be good for Prowl– to have someone who Really, Really Gets It he could talk about it with, instead of Soundwave–’s fumbling attempts? Then again, that means someone else had to go through it. He doesn’t know. Unpleasant and sticky situations he never gave much thought to before the war ended.* [[But understandable, in a way. Some pains are too personal to share so easily.]] [[…Thank you for trying to explain it to him earlier, while he is thinking about it. He knows he does not fully grasp all of your situation, but he will continue to try. He would like to always be someone you can rely on to listen to and hear you when you speak about it. You deserve that.]] [[Enough of this room. Let us go clean upstairs. It needs it more anyway.]] Prowl– *a jerky nod* Thanks. For listening. *it sounds hollow right now, when he’s tired of thinking about it; but he knows that later on when he’s less exhausted he’ll be grateful for it.* Lead the way. *and up they shall go.*

[squarelight]

Tonsillectomy: Surgery and Day 1

Im 22, so tonsilectomy is a lot different from when one is a child. Children bouce back in less than a week. Ive been cleared off work for 2 weeks.

Pre-Op and check in was 6:30 this morning. The operation was at 8. Surgery is my biggest fears but for the checkin and start only one person was allowed back with me. I was scared they were gonna say no one cuz I was close to crying all night the night before so I would've lost it.

But one was allowed so my father let my fiancé go back. Once I did all the check ins I got to get my sweet outfit on. Fiancé's face was covered with a jacket and his eyes closed while I changed into nothing but a really comfy gown and grippy socks.

The nurse for the preOp came by and said she was gonna put my IV in. I prepped my arm, then she said it was going in my hand. I thiught she meant finger so naturally I was a bit panicked since Ive had to have a stint in my finger before and almost passed out. Ive also had tests down drawung blood from my finger and almost passed out. Ive never had issues with the above 50 times in my life I've had it go in my arm, so it was understandable. My fiancé went and grabbed my hand and i bit him to make sure my hand she was putting it in would be slack and not jerk. It went in fine amd so I kissed it better. This was the start of him being the best tropper out there.

With the IV in I was they let my father come back too. We chatted a bit and I was starting to get nervous again. The IV felt nice though, no drugs in it just fluids to keep my hydrated for the operation since I hadnt eaten or drank anything (including water) in over 10 hours.

The head nurse of the hospital came to check up and calm everyone's nerves and give us a rundown. She was super chill and her voice made me feel better by a bit. She had had her daughter's tonsils just taken out by my ENT too. She left us once we had no questions.

My anesthesiologist came by next and said she'd give me a "morning margarita" mix to put in my IV sometime before the surgery. She was hilarious and further set my nerves at ease as she cracked other jokes and left us all a bit better.

One of the Op nurses introduced herself (name was Athens-how cool is that name?! Too cool) and then Dr Saman (my ENT) came in. He gave us a thourough rundown and said the whole thing would take 15-w0 minutes for the entire operation. Whats impressive is thats half the industry average. Neat guy too, cracked some jokes and answered all the questions too. I was still nervous but unfortunately with him introducing himself that meant I was next.

The Op nurse Athens and the anesthesiologist came amd wheeled my be to the op room. They got me on a new bed, and put another blanket on me. The windchill was 8°F outside and the OP room was very chilly so they made sure I was warm. Then the anesthesiologist gave me that "margarita." I blacked out after 2 seconds of it emptying into my tube and into my arm.

I woke up and the procedure was over. It was 10:10, and they said that they had difficulty bringing me out of it so they had to counter the pain meds and everything in the IV as well as take out my IV. I was completely sober and for a few minutes on an 8 painof the pain scale. But the nurse was super chill and he gave me my next dose of pain meds as soon as he got my vitals. Almost instantly I was down to a 1 or 2 pain.

The nurse was also super cool cuz anytime I had to speak he saw it and got super close so i just had to use a low voice, cuz I was ginna be mute in a bit. He had an awesome bedside manner and honestly was our fave nurse out of the day. Which is hard cuz everyone was amazing.

Now that I was fully awake from anesthesia and I wasn't having complications, they brought my father and fiancé back.

With no pain meds(they gave me Tylenol-Codeine, which is basically the lowest they could give), I had been crying from pain. When the pain was under control, and I had no influencers in my system.

I cried freshly because I saw my fiancé. I cried from all the passionate love I felt. The nurse probably thought it was pain lol.

I told my fiancé why I was crying and he almost cried too. It was super emotional and awesome.

Then they waited a but to make sure I was still okay and released me.

They had a post-Op nurse come by and help me get dressed. I wore loose clothes luckily and they let me keep the hospital grippy socks. Theyre thick and super comfy.

Once dressed my fiancé came back while my father brought the car. The dude nurse got me in a wheelchair and then out amd into the car. My fiancé sat next to me amd we were off!

It was all over. I am sad I didnt get any fun high stories though. Both this surgery and my wisdom teeth I had hopes but it didn't end up that way. Oh well.